Life and letters of Mandell Creighton : D. D., Oxon. and Cam., sometime bishop of London Volume 2

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UL, AAAin er

J Sham
Me, as

LIFE AND LETTERS

OF

MANDELL CREIGHTON, D.D.

Vou, IT.

WORKS BY MANDELL CREIGHTON, D.D.

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‘LIFE AND LETTERS

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MANDELL CREIGHTON

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*I determined to know nothing among you save Jesus Christ’

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SHAFTER

I.

Il.

Ill,

iv.

VI.

CONTENTS

OF

THE SECOND VOLUME

BEGINNING OF EPISCOPAL LIFE : ;
Consecration—Death of Dr. Magee—Enthronement—
Life at Peterborough —Church Restoration.

LETTERS . . . > s e > = & +

EPISCOPAL ADMINISTRATION. 2 ; ‘

Church Extension—Leicester and Northampton—Ordina-
tions—Relations with Clergy—Religious Education—
Diocesan Organisation—Clerical Problems.

LIFE AT PETERBOROUGH .

Literary Work — Social life — Travels — Birmingham
Church Congress—‘ History of the Papacy,’ vol. v.—The
Hulsean Lectures—Primary Charge.

LETTERS . ‘ i : a ; : .

THE STRIKE IN THE BOOT AND SHOE TRADE

Relations with working-men—Strike in the shoe trade—
Lectures to working-men.

THE CORONATION AT Moscow.

Travels—Sermons— Norwich Church Congress—Life of
Queen Elizabeth—Journey to Russia—The Romanes
Lecture—Death of James Creighton—Shrewsbury Church
Congress—The validity of Anglican orders.

LETTERS . : : : ; : ; é 4 ‘

APPOINTMENT TO LONDON

Congratulations on appointment—Farewell to Peter-
borough—Confirmation.

PAGE

19

23

7O

IOI

113

133

182

[97

vi

CHAPTER

VIL.

VIII.

IX.

XI.

XII.

XIII.

XIV

CONTENTS OF THE SECOND VOLUME

BEGINNINGS OF LONDON LIFE. . . .
Life at Fulham—Lecture on the Situresctie in His-
tory—Society—The Log of the ‘ Mayflower’—The House
of Lords—The Jubilee—The Lambeth Conference—
Travels—Ruridecanal Conferences.

LETTERS . : : “ ;. . S i E ;

THE BISHOP AND HIS CLERGY.
Church diticaiasd Appointments Corning: Pratik
—Religious Communities—Business capacities—Clerical
problems.

RITUAL DIFFICULTIES : R : > : ° .
Church opinions—St. Ethelburga’s—St. Cuthbert’s—
Speech in the House of Lords;Additional Services—
St. Albans—Reservation—The position of the Church of
England.

LONDON LIFE, 1898 . : . °

The Co-operative Congress— Mr. Ciadueeenis peat
Divorce—Travels—Relations with his Sons—Religious
Education— Peace Meeting—London University Com-
mission.

LETTERS . . ; ‘ ‘ , ‘ bs ‘

THE LAMBETH HEARING .
The Holborn Meeting—Speech in the spate of ict
Confession—-The Diocesan Conference—The Arch-
bishop’s Hearing—Opinions about his decision—The
Bishop’s letter to the Rural Deans—His efforts to secure
obedience.

THE LONDON CHURCH CONGRESS .

Lectures—Lucerne—The Diocesan er a ew
—The Church Congress—The War in South Africa—
Visits to Windsor and Sandringham.

LETTERS . j : ; ‘ ‘ ‘ : .

THE LAST YEAR.
The Bishop’s New Yeast atedeesé-—Vidietion =
Charge—Letters on Church questions—Committees on
Bishops’ Registries and Local Records—Holiday— Illness
—Round Table Conference—Attempted prosecution by
Colonel Porcelli—The Biarritz Chaplaincy—lIllness and
death—Funeral

LETTERS . . . ° > ’ ° . . °

CHARACTERISTICS AND SAYINGS ‘ : ; ‘. ‘

PAGE
217

250

261

284

316

341
351

385

406

421

466
479

CONTENTS OF THE SECOND VOLUME vil

APPENDICES
PAGE
PRAYER AT MR. GLADSTONE’S FUNERAL . ° : ‘ 509
LETTER ON RELIGIOUS EDUCATION . ; ° . : » 509
POEMS . Ae ee : : : ° eee” : . S¥2
BIBLIOGRAPHY . . . e . : . ; : ° - 517
INDEX : ‘ a e ” . ° ° a « « » 523

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

PHOTOGRAVURE PLATES

FULL-LENGTH PORTRAIT IN ROBES. . Frontispiece
From a Photograph by Russell & Sons, 17 Baker Street, W.
PORTRAIT, e@éaz. 55 ; ; . Zo face p. 284
From a Photograph by Russell & Sons, 17 Baker Street, W.
PORTRAIT, IN THE PALACE GARDEN, PET ERBOROUGH,
' ’ t a > > » 83

1893 ° . . ’

LI rk

OF

MANDELL CREIGHTON

CHAPTER I

BEGINNING OF EPISCOPAL LIFE

CREIGHTON’S consecration as Bishop of Peterborough was
fixed for St. Mark’s day. After Easter, as he was badly
in want of rest, we went to Devonshire. But on the first
night of our holiday, he was seized with a severe attack of
muscular rheumatism, and we had to return to Worcester
after only two days’ absence. He soon recovered sufficiently
to go and stay with the Humphry Wards at Haslemere,
whilst the necessary arrangements were being made for our
move to Peterborough, and he found the refreshment he needed
in rambling amongst the Surrey hills. He went up to London
for his Confirmation in the Church of St. Mary-le-Bow on
April 23, and stayed with his old college friend Mr. H. J.
Hood, whose house he was allowed to use as if it were his
own during the years that he was Bishop of Peterborough.
He never at any time had to go to a hotel, but always found
an affectionate welcome from Mr. and Mrs, Hood whenever
he had to go to London.

He was consecrated in Westrainstied Abbey, together with
Dr. Randall Davidson, who then became Bishop of Rochester.
Creighton was presented by the Bishops of Carlisle and
Lichfield. The sermon was preached by Dr. Butler, Master
of Trinity College, Dr. Davidson’s former head- master, who
spoke of the new Bishop of Peterborough as ‘the loyal son

VOL. II. B

2 BEGINNING OF EPISCOPAL LIFE 1891

of two great Universities, who had won for himself in no
common degree the regard and confidence of both,’ and
went on to say, ‘He has thought and written much on the
history of the Church at not a few of its most momentous
crises. On such high subjects he ranks, by common consent,
among our leading authorities. Further, to all this contact
with the world of learning and of so-called leisure, he has
added the much valued cure of a country parish. This
experience, so large and so varied, should surely also bea
discipline.’

The evening after his Consecration the Bishop had tn go
to Cambridge, where he was engaged to preach the University
Sermon on the following day. An immense congregation
gathered to hear him, amongst them many who seldom
entered a church. He took as his subject the training of
character, and spoke of what life in a University could do to
train the scholar, the man of high moral principle, the
philanthropist, but showed that none of these ideals in
themselves were able to give that large outlook on life which
could only come from religion, ‘the one reconciler of human
activities, the one vivifying power of life” His choice of
subject was determined by his observation of University life,
which had led him to conclude that the very existence of the
high standard which there prevailed was almost a hindrance
to true spiritual religion; when all surrounding influences
made for a worthy and dignified life, some men seemed to
slip gradually out of any sense of the need of religion for their
own soul’s life. His last message to the University, on
severing his direct connexion with it, was to assert that the
life which shut out God must grow narrower day by day, and
that infinite possibilities were alone opened out to man by
‘the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus our
Lord.’ }

The next few days were spent in London at Convocation.
The Bishop’s first public appearance in his diocese was fixed
for May 5, when he was to consecrate a new church at Leicester.
It proved to be a melancholy and trying day; for as he
entered the church he was told of the sudden death of his

1 This sermon is printed in Zhe Heritage o7 the Spirit, under the title ‘The
Christian Character.’

1891 DEATH OF DR. MAGEE 3

predecessor, the Archbishop of York. Gloom settled upon all
those present. Dr. Magee had been deeply interested in the
church, and had himself said to his successor, ‘1 hope that
your first act will be to consecrate St. Hilda’s Church in
Leicester.” In his sermon at the Consecration, the Bishop
said that, as a stranger, he could not venture to speak to them
of one whom they had known so long, but he asked them, as
they took possession that day of their new church, to
associate it with the memory of one who would always be
known as ‘the great Bishop of Peterborough.’ Afterwards,
at the public lunch, he said that, though it would be unseemly
for him to speak much about himself, he must thank them
warmly for their reception and for the loyal co-operation
which they had promised him ; what little work he might be
enabled to do must be done entirely through: the clergy.
His main business must be to go from one place to another,
and use the experience gained in one part of the diocese for
the benefit of the whole; upon the readiness of the clergy to
co-operate with him and give him their advice and support
any fruitful results of his episcopate must depend.

The vigorous administration of Dr. Magee during his
episcopate of twenty-two years had left the Diocese in
excellent order. The special gifts of the two men were so
different as hardly to suggest comparison between them, but
the fact that both were noted for epigram and wit, though
the nature of their humour was very different, led to a
frequent confusion of their smart sayings, and, in this respect
at least, the distinction between the two Bishops of Peter-
borough was not always kept clear, and probably never will
be. The character of Dr. Creighton’s preaching and speak-
ing, though absolutely different from the splendid oratory
which had delighted the diocese of Peterborough, was still so
full of interest and attraction of another kind as seldom to
disappoint even audiences accustomed to his predecessor.
Dr. Bigg writes :

‘ As a speaker, he was amazingly ready ; all his knowledge,

all his powers were instantaneously at command. He did

not care for eloquence, indeed he despised it; what he aimed

at was instruction, and for this he always looked more to

principles than to facts. He was not moving or pathetic, but
, B2

4 BEGINNING OF EPISCOPAL LIFE 1891

stimulating and persuasive. His voice filled the largest
building without an effort, and yet did not raise an echo.
People, especially men, flocked to hear him both at Worcester
and Peterborough. He was never rhetorical or sensational,
but you carried away the impression of a man who had given
not his heart only, but a fine intelligence, to the cause which
he preached.’

Mr. W. M. Heygate, a prominent Leicestershire layman,
wrote:

‘I shall never forget the wonderful success of his presi-
dential address at his first Diocesan Conference. After the
well-known eloquence of his predecessor, to which we had
been long accustomed, it was*a matter of astonishment to
find that our new Bishop could be almost as eloquent, and the
general remark was “ We've got another Magee.”’

Everyone was struck with his rapid and yet lucid speaking,
and his epigrammatic style. He was always ready to speak
or preach wherever he was needed, and could do so with very
little special preparation, if necessary with no preparation at
all. He was determined to go everywhere and see everything
for himself. His frankness, his easy manner, his apparently
unguarded conversation at first surprised and puzzled people
A Bishop so accessible to everybody was a novelty to them ;
but it was not long before his invariable brightness and kindli-
ness won all hearts. Dr. Magee’s age and delicate health had
made it impossible for him to go about the diocese as freely
as Dr. Creighton was able to do. The difference between
the two men is shown in the following story recorded by one
of the clergy :

‘His [Dr. Creighton’s] relation to the younger clergy could
not be better illustrated than by hisown transposition of the
mot which his predecessor once uttered at an Academy
dinner. Dr. Magee had said that a certain picture in his
possession inspired him with such kindly feelings that “I do
assure you, gentlemen, a curate could play with me.” “Now
I,” said Dr. Creighton (in relating the story) “should have
felt more inclined to play with the curate.” ’

The first public appearance of the Bishop in his Cathedral
was on the occasion of Dr. Magee’s funeral on May 9.

1891 ENTHRONEMENT 5

To the Rev. Canon Melville ‘May 10, 1891.

‘Dear Melville-—Of course the death of the Archbishop
has cast a cloud over everything. I apprehend that never
before did a new bishop enter on his episcopate just when his
predecessor died and was buried in his Cathedral, where my
first appearance was at his funeral. The position of his
family was most melancholy: recovering from influenza,
summoned hastily to a London hotel, having a huge house all
in confusion and no home, and nowhere to go to, from the
sad change. I could only imagine what would be the con-
dition of my own family if I had died just now; works of all
kinds begun, expenses incurred, everything upside down,
and all for nothing. Itismost deplorable. I cannot imagine
a sadder state of things. And of course it is an anomalous
circumstance that the clergy were summoned yesterday to my
predecessor’s funeral, and next Saturday to my enthrone-
ment. I am only glad to hear that Saturday is an awkward
day.

vy am summoned to do homage to-morrow. I shall be
glad when formalities are over and I can settle to humdrum
work,’

The next week, after doing homage at Windsor on Monday
and attending a Bishops’ meeting at Lambeth on Tuesday, he
was already in full work, holding four Confirmations, and return-
ing to Peterborough to be enthroned on Saturday, May 19.
Amongst the large concourse of clergy who assembled in the
Cathedral was the Bishop’s former head-master at Durham,
Dr. Holden, now the incumbent of a small country living in
the diocese, and delighted to welcome his old pupil as his
diocesan,

The Bishop gave no address at his enthronement, and
preached for the first time in the Cathedral on the following
Sunday, when the Mayor and Corporation attended in state.
He made no personal allusions in his sermon, but spoke of
the power that came through the gift of the Holy Spirit.

The next week the Ordination candidates were to arrive
at the Palace, in preparation for the Ordination on the
following Sunday. The workmen were not yet out of the
house, and everything was still in confusion, when, in the
midst of all the demands made upon him by his new work,
the Bishop was taken ill with influenza. He had to hold
many business interviews in bed, and was so weak and

6 BEGINNING OF EPISCOPAL LIFE 1891

depressed that he was unable to give a Charge to the candi-
dates, though he managed to see them individually and to
hold his Ordination. He soon regained strength and energy.
On the following Tuesday, having a spare hour, he spent it
over his ‘ History of the Papacy,’ and the rest of the week was
taken up by a Confirmation tour.

In such spare moments as he had, he helped to super-
intend the arrangements of his house, and himself worked
hard at hanging pictures. The Palace at Peterborough is a
rambling and somewhat inconvenient house, which has grown
up round the old Abbot’s Hall. The additions made to it at
different times had not always increased its beauty, and, with
some interesting features, thereavas much about the house to
grieve anyone with a feeling for architecture. The Bishop at
once began to consider how it might be improved, and planned
some work to be carried out in the autumn. The plaster
which covered the stonework of the front of the house, the
wall of the Abbot’s Hall, was removed, and revealed an in-
teresting lancet window. The square sashes of the windows
on the first floor were replaced by stone mullions, and
a few years later the same improvement was effected in
another wing which looked towards the garden. The chapel,
a plain modern building, had so far received little decoration.
Here the Bishop called in the aid of Mr. C. E. Kempe, who
painted the roof, lined the apse with decorated wooden panels,
and adorned the altar with a wooden reredos with figures
carved at Ober-Ammergau.'

These improvements were carried out in successive years,
as the Bishop was able to afford them. He regarded the
Palace as a building held in trust by him, which he was
bound to care for and improve as much as he could. The
portraits of his predecessors, belonging to the Palace, were
cleaned, restored and rehung in chronological order, and
he tried to obtain engravings or other portraits of those
bishops of whom there was no picture. He instituted a log-
book at the Palace, in which all changes made in his day
were recorded, and hoped that his successors would keep it
up, so that a continuous history of the place might be
secured. Very soon after his coming, he began to collect

1 This reredos was afterwards taken to Futham.

1891 LIFE AT PETERBOROUGH 7

books and pictures relating to the history of the Diocese.
He arranged them in a bookcase in the hall, and it was his
wish that anyone should feel at liberty to come and consult
them. It was a constant interest to him to add to this
collection, which, on his departure, he left behind as a gift to
the Palace.

Much was also done to improve the garden. New lawns
and flower borders were laid out, but it was a work of diffi-
culty, for the poor soil and the smoke from the brickfields
and the railways made gardening a constant disappointment.
The Bishop’s desire was to make the Palace useful to the
whole Diocese, a comfortable house where all might find a
welcome. He had no wish to change his own simple ways
of living. He kept no carriage, because, living so near to a
station, it was not necessary for his work. He always
travelled without a servant, and tried not to let his visits
disturb even the humblest vicarage. The only change he
made in his personal habits was to travel first class so as to
save himself fatigue, and more often secure solitude. Of
course the large house and the many guests entailed a
considerable number of servants, but he constantly en-
deavoured to remind his children that it was only his office
that made him live on a large scale, and that he wished
their habits to be as simple as possible. He felt acutely the
disadvantage to children of growing up in the surroundings
of an important official position. Writing to his son’s head-
master he said :

‘The thing that weighs upon me is the difficulty, and the
absolute necessity, of aman who holds a dignified official posi-
tion making his children understand that they have to make
their own way in the world. You may tell them so, and they
assent, but they come home and find things comfortable, and
intend in the future to do the same. Hence my desperate
desire to have things perfectly understood on my side.’

But combined with personal simplicity went a strong
sense of the dignity of his office. It was that, as well as his
historical sense, which led him to accept the cope and mitre
which his friend Mr. Offley Wakeman presented to him. Of
course he was attacked by some for appearing in cope and
mitre, but on the whole it made little disturbance, for he only

8 BEGINNING OF EPISCOPAL LIFE 1891

wore them in the Cathedral at great functions or in parishes
where the incumbents desired it.

Surrounded as it is on more than two sides by great
stretches of reclaimed fenland, Peterborough has not perhaps
much to recommend it asa place of residence. Indeed its
inhabitants are wont to say that its great advantage is the
excellent railway service which makes it such an easy place to
get away from. But the Bishop was determined to like it and
to see all the beauty that could be found in his new surround-
ings. It was an abiding source of joy to him to live under the
shadow of the Cathedral, which formed the background to
his garden. He soon knew and loved every stone of the
mighty Norman church, and was actively interested in the
successive schemes of restoration by which, of late, its beauty
and security have been so much increased. As at Worcester,
he loved to take his friends and others round the Cathedral,
and would spend hours in showing them every corner inside
and out, taking them over the roof and up the towers, and
explaining the history of the building, as he pointed out the
rich variety of its beauty. One ofa party from Toynbee Hall
taken round by him writes :

‘He began his explanation by saying, “ Whenever you try
to understand an old Cathedral, your first question should
be: When did the middle of it tumble down? because it
always did atsome time. In many cases the centre gave way
before the building was finished.” He took us on to the
roof and made us notice the difference between the western
towers, saying it was always so in Gothic work; there was
never slavish imitation, always freshness and character.
Below in the Cathedral he gave us one of his wonderful
historical sketches of the times and the circumstances when
the work was done, carrying us from the Norman invasion to
the destructive work of Cromwell’s army.’

In every possible way the Bishop used the Cathedral as
a centre of diocesan life. As he said in a paper read before
the Exeter Church Congress in 1894:

‘The Bishop’s church must rank as the chief church, and
is the natural meeting place for every branch of diocesan
organisation. The usefulness of such gatherings for impressing
the need of unity and co-operation is incalculable... . It is
through the sense of diocesan unity that the larger unity of

1891 THE COUNTRY ROUND PETERBOROUGH 9

the Church can best be realised. Every opportunity should
be taken to bring people from all parts of the Diocese to
their Cathedral. The mere sight of its splendid fabric
produces an impression that is not easily forgotten.’

It is sometimes considered a possible source of friction
that a bishop should live in his Cathedral city, but the happy
relations which existed from the first between Dr. Creighton
and his Chapter were never marred by disagreement. He
found it a great help to have a body of advisers close at hand
whose experience of the Diocese was longer than his own.
As he said in the Church Congress paper already quoted, ‘ The
Cathedral still provides helpers and counsellors for the Bishop.
Deans and Canons are in my experience most ready to help
him with their knowledge and advice, to represent him when
necessary in the Diocese, to undertake delicate commissions.

The Chapter Library, which, though small, contained many
curious books, soon attracted his interest. There was no
regular librarian, and the Bishop found the books in a rather
dirty and neglected condition. At his suggestion the Canons’
wives set to work and dusted them, and when he had time he
would hunt out the treasures of the library and select some
of the more damaged volumes to be repaired or rebound at
his expense.

As always, he began at once to study the country round his
new home. Every free afternoon was spent in taking a walk
till he knew every inch of the neighbourhood. On these walks
he was often accompanied by all his children, and the long
procession of parents and children, as they passed through the
streets of Peterborough and along the neighbouring lanes and
footpaths, afforded much interest and amusement to the
inhabitants. A frequent walk was along the great dyke made
by Bishop Morton in the fifteenth century to keep out the
floods, which runs into the fen for many miles. The Bishop
loved the great sweep of sky and the varying effects of light
over the wide stretches of the fen. His other favourite walk
was amongst the beautiful trees and great thornbushes of
Milton, Mr. Fitzwilliam’s park, near Peterborough. On all
the roads along which he went, he learnt to know the children,
and would stop and speak to them as they opened a gate for
him, or as he met them coming out of school.

10 BEGINNING OF EPISCOPAL LIFE 1891

But the days at home were few; the greater part of his
life was spent in travelling about his diocese. At his first
public speech in Northampton he said that his experience
of a bishop’s life was that it was like that of a commercial
traveller, because he was always going somewhere with a bag
in his hand. Peterborough seems at first sight to be situated
in a most inconvenient position for the residence of the Bishop.
It lies on what Bishop Jeune called the stalk of a pear-shaped
diocese. The inconveniences of this situation are to some
extent compensated for by the railway communications. The
diocese consists of the three counties of Leicester, North-
ampton and Rutland. The two great centres of popula-
tion, Leicester and Northampton, have little communication
with one another, though both can be easily reached from
Peterborough. But the journeys took a great deal of time,
as all the trains about the diocese were slow. The Bishop
did not much object to this, for he could prepare sermons
and speeches and do a great deal of reading in the train.
But he had to spend many nights away from home. Asa
rule, he tried to be at Peterborough on Sunday, but he was
constantly away for three or four days together during the
week. He generally stayed with the clergy, and valued the
opportunity of getting to know them and their families in
their home life. He was also a welcome guest in most of
the great houses of the diocese. Wherever he went, he made
friends with the children. They were his delight and his
recreation, and he would come home full of stories of the new
child friends he had made. There was always a long list of
special friends amongst the children of the clergy to whom
books and other presents had to be sent at Christmas; and
it was often said that he would certainly be known as ‘the
children’s bishop.’

In a certain sense, he was quite new to his work. He had
never mixed in church politics, he had very little personal
acquaintance with leading ecclesiastics. I think that the only
bishop whom he had ever visited, except his own diocesans
in Durham, Newcastle and Worcester, was Bishop Stubbs,
with whom his relations were literary rather than ecclesiastical.
He had never been a member of Convocation, or attended
church meetings in London. It is true that his work in the

1891 EPISCOPAL ACTIVITY II

diocese of Newcastle had given him experience in the details
of diocesan administration, and he had seen a good deal of
church life at Worcester, through going aboutto many different
parishes to preach, and through his work as examining chap-
lain. But he was a stranger to the larger world of church
affairs, and was himself little known to church dignitaries,
except through his occasional appearances at church con-
gresses. He did not begin his new life with any formu-
lated policy or definite scheme of work in his mind. Per-
haps the leading ideas at the bottom of his episcopal
activity, though he never stated them or formulated them,
and they were in truth nothing more than the expression
of his whole life and character, were the effort to promote
unity and co-operation amongst all sorts and conditions of
men, the constant wish to stimulate everywhere the pursuit and
love of knowledge, and so to be true to the spirit of the Church
of England, which rests its claim on sound learning, and, as
regards his own conduct, the constraining desire to show
kindliness and sympathy to all men. This was from no
wish for popularity. He cared nothing for that, nor for what
men thought of him. He never read newspapers to see how
his utterances were taken ; indeed none of the local newspapers
published in the diocese were taken in at the Palace. But
he was animated by an ever-growing sense of the necessity
to love those with whom he was brought into contact. This
told most specially in his relations with the young. If, at first,
he sometimes puzzled the older clergy, the younger clergy
loved him at once. His look, his hand on their shoulder, a
few words, were enough to make them feel that he was to
them a real Father in God. The absolute sincerity of his
interest was manifest at once, no one could suspect it of being
official. It was the consciousness that his work brought him
into contact with so many human souls, and that his position
gave him opportunity to say words of encouragement or
comfort which would be remembered, that cheered him
through all the weary toil of administrative detail.

His clear head and admirable business capacities made it
easy for him to grasp the formal duties of his new position.
He wrote on June 13, 1891: ‘I am struck with the capacity
one possesses to develop new activities when called upon to

12 BEGINNING OF EPISCOPAL LIFE 1891

do so.” His chief object was to see and observe. In one of
his first speeches he said: ‘I have no scheme of episcopal
activity : I only wish to watch and see what can best be done.
I do not wish to be over-anxious, over-active, or over-cautious.’
He described himself as ‘a man wandering about the world to
pick up any information which might be of use to him.’ When-
ever he spoke in either of his big towns—Leicester or North-
ampton—he tried to make his hearers feel that he belonged
to them and was in no sense apart from any of their interests.
Speaking in Northampton once, he said that he should not
be content till, as he passed men in the street, they said :
‘There goes our Bishop,’ and then he hoped they would go
on to say, ‘ There goes my Bishep.’

The rapidity with which he got to know his Diocese
was surprising. Dr. A. T. Lyttelton (the late Bishop of South-
ampton) writes :

‘What chiefly struck me about his diocesan work was his
grasp. At Peterborough he seemed to obtain with apparently
great ease and rapidity a knowledge of the clergy, and of the
different parishes which I have never seen equalled. More
than most bishops, he relied on personal and informal inter-
course with his clergy as the means of getting to know them.
This he could do with the greater ease that he was singularly
accessible and always ready to talk,’

Mr. Grose Hodge (then incumbent of Holy Trinity,
Leicester) says :

‘ He seemed to get into touch with the Diocese almost at
once. And with him the Diocese did not mean the clergy.
He was the least clerically-minded bishop that ever was.
His interests were those of men generally. He accepted
whenever he could invitations to stay with laymen. Our
business men felt they were quite as likely to get the Bishop
as the squire was. In scores of country houses throughout
the diocese, Nonconformist as well as Church, a truer idea of
the aims and methods of the Church started with the Bishop’s
visit. . . . His intercourse with the clergy was close and con-
fidential. He guided us by personal influence rather than by
general directions.’

Mr. W. M. Heygate writes:

‘The most remarkable point in his character was the
universality of his knowledge and the rapidity with which he

1891 RAMBLES IN THE DIOCESE 13

picked up and digested every new subject. He was utterly
ignorant of the Midlands when he was first appointed, and
yet, before he had been Bishop of Peterborough a year, he
seemed to know the history and the geography and the dis-
tinguishing characteristics of his diocese better than any of
his predecessors after many years. He was a wonderful
judge of character, and I found that he knew what sort of
a man a given rector or vicar was better than I could tell
him, and he never forgot the facts and history of each parish
when he had once learnt them. So determined was he to
know every parish that, on the occasion of his first visit to us,
he expressed a desire to inspect Newtown Linford Church,
which until lately had been a donative under the Earls of
Stamford and consequently a sealed book to a bishop. I told
him that no bishop had ever been known to go there, where-
upon he asked me the way. I replied that, if he did not mind
a bit of a scramble, I could take him a picturesque walk over
rocks and fern through Bradgate Park. He at. once jumped
at the idea, and I need not say that he knew as much or
more of the history of that interesting locality (where Lady
Jane Grey pursued her studies under Roger Ascham) than I,
who had lived in the neighbourhood all my life. But, to my
horror, on arriving at the unclimbable hunting gate, by means
of which I had hoped to effect our exit from the park, I
discovered that my private key would not fit the lock. The
granite wall and gates are about ten feet high, and so con-
structed as to prevent the deer from escaping. I looked at
them for a few minutes with anxious care, and though I felt
I might manage to scramble up the wall myself, I could
not see how the episcopal tights and orthodox gaiters could
overcome the obstacle. The Bishop, however, declared he
would go wherever I could, and so we managed it; it was a
scene I shall never forget. Arrived at the church, for which
we obtained the key with some difficulty, it was thoroughly
inspected. But meanwhile the news that a bishop had ap-
peared had passed through the village, and the delighted
vicar coming up, warmly welcomed the first episcopal visit
known at Newtown Linford. I need hardly say thata church
restoration was the result, and further visits from the Bishop.’

Many were the similar rambles to inspect other churches.
Wherever he stayed, the Bishop visited as many as possible of
the neighbouring churches, and whenever he could take a day’s
holiday with his children or with some of the friends that
stayed with him, it was spent in exploring some corner of the

14 BEGINNING OF EPISCOPAL LIFE 1891

diocese. The train would be taken to one village, and then
we walked across country to return from some other station.
Sandwiches provided our lunch, and sometimes the whole
party invaded a hospitable vicarage for tea, or, if this was not
possible, resorted to some roadside inn. In every parish the
vicar was visited, and the church was inspected. The Bishop
was always much vexed when he found a church locked, and
the keys had to be hunted for. He spoke on this subject in
his ‘Primary Charge’:

‘I am very strongly of opinion that every church should
be open and accessible to all at all times of every day. I
know all that can be said against this suggestion. I know
that people rarely use the church when it is open. Can it
be expected that the habit will grow up at once? I know
all that can be said about inconveniences and dangers of loss
or of irreverence. ... But I do not think that there is any
real danger to be apprehended —and I speak with some know-
ledge. For many years past I have been in the habit of
examining parish churches in various parts of England. I
have gained considerable knowledge of the way in which
they are cared for and used. In my experience I should say
roughly, that about half the parish churches stand open, that
those which stand open are much better cared for than those
which do not; that they are as a rule more highly decorated
. . . that I can discover no peculiarities of position or of local
conditions which determine the matter, but apparently only
the feeling of the clergyman.’ !

There seemed to be a special fitness in the fact that one
with such a lively appreciation of architecture should be called
to rule a diocese containing such rare treasures as the
churches in the valley of the Nene. The beauty and interest of
the churches he visited in the course of his ministration were
an unfailing delight and refreshment to the Bishop, and he
ever sought to impress upon clergy and people the precious-
ness of their parish church.

‘ These fabrics [he said] are messengers of spiritual truth,
perpetually set before the eyes of men. . . . Men are always
proud of their parish church, and are willing to make sacri-
fices for its sake. This feeling should be carefully cherished
as a basis for further teaching. The clergyman is the official
guardian of the fabric of the church; and its surroundings

) The Church and the Nation, p. 112.

1891 VILLAGE CHURCHES 15

within and without depend upon his carefulness. The sur-
roundings of the church are as important as the structure
itself. A trim garden looks ill beside an ill-kept churchyard.
I am glad to think that there are no remaining instances of
a comfortable parsonage beside a dilapidated church.’ ?

Though constantly called upon to preach at the reopening
of churches after restoration, his sermons were always varied
and living. He wished to make the people feel the meaning
of their church :

‘Our villages are but a collection of houses gathering
round their church. The great memorial of every place is
its church. What is it that makes a village? It is the
beauty, the dignity, the appealing splendour of the House of
God round which it gathers, and which seems to protect it
and keep it under its care. The parish churches of England
are the greatest and most noble memorials of the past... .
This church tells a tale of long antiquity ; it tells how the
village grew and prospered . . . how those who had received
blessings from God returned to Him some portion of their
substance in beautifying and adorning it.’?

And again :

‘ To-day you take possession of this restored church... the
ancient fabric is closely connected with all that is most
intimate in your lives in the past. You have come here when
your lives were full of joy, and you have come also when they
were full of sorrow. ... The village church tells us what
God has done for our race in days of old. Though many of
its ornaments are gone, we can make the glory of the latter
house greater by offering in it a more spiritual worship.’ ®

‘We do not decorate our churches to please God, but
to make them fitting memorials of our personal relation with
God, a worthy memorial of His presence among men.’

‘Churches are beautiful that they may wean those who
worship in them from the thought of the common things of
daily life.’ 3

He was anxious that in building new churches men should
not fall too far behind the traditions of their fathers :

‘This shire is rich in its noble churches . . . bringing

' The Church and the Nation, p. 111.
? Sermon at the reopening of Bugbrooke Church after restoration. May 6,

r8or.
* At the reopening of Rearsby Church after restoration. January 21, 1892.

26 BEGINNING OF EPISCOPAL LIFE 1891

home to us the tale of self-sacrifice made in the past for the
service of the Lord. Its memories are imperative, we can-
not fall below the example which our forefathers set us; our
mighty churches are the boast of our shire. They are the
outward symbol of the cry, “Come and see what the Lord
hath done for my soul.”’?

He was always ready to enter into any scheme of restora-
tion and to give his advice and care that it might be done
in such a way as to preserve and not transform a building.
On his first visit to Irthlingborough (July 4, 1891) the noble
tower was lying in ruins ; he preached on hope, bidding his
congregation remember all they had inherited from the past,
and determine to hand it on unimpaired. He urged them to
set to work at once to build up the tower so that it might be
ready at the next dedication festival. Two years later he
was summoned to re-dedicate the magnificent lantern tower,
standing separate from the church, which is one of the most
striking features of the Nene valley. It had been rebuilt
with pious care of the old stones ; a tower, as the Bishop told
the people, ‘unique in England, to them a symbol of God’s
protection, following them into every detail of their daily
life.’

One church he saved after it had been condemned as
unsafe by the architects, and its destruction ordered that a
new one might be built. He urged that the matter should be
reconsidered, with the result that it was found possible to
strengthen and maintain the old fabric. The care with
which he entered into the details of schemes for church
restoration is shown by the following letters :

To the Rev. S. Short ‘March 2, 1892.

‘Thank you for Mr. Townsend’s report, which is very
good. There is only one point on which I doubt, though he
puts it doubtfully. It is the expediency of removing the
plaster inside the church and exposing the masonry. The
building does not seem to be such that the masonry will
stand exposure. It was plastered from the first and had
better remain so.

‘Mr. Fitzwilliam’s offer almost prescribes the order of
procedure. He will not begin till you are ready to do

1 Sermon on laying the foundation stone of the new aisle of St. Edmund’s,
Northampton, June 8, 1891.

CHURCH RESTORATION 1?

something. In fact, it would be much cheaper to make one
job of the structural part of the work. This would be:

(1) Repair of transept by Mr. Fitzwilliam.
Pointing of all walls.
Repair of west wall of N. aisle.
New East window.
(?) New window in east of N. aisle.
Thorough repair of drains and gutters.
(2) New floor: seats : renewing whitewash inside.
(3) Repair of roof.
‘T should say that 400/. should see you through (1) rather
less than more.’

This refers to the interesting old church of Northborough,
a lonely village about four miles from Peterborough. Mr. Short
says : ‘The Bishop was the largest of all the subscribers to the
general restoration of the church, contributing practically
nearly 100/. to the work, which could never have been carried
out without his munificence.’

To the Rev. L. Leney ‘August 5, 1895.

‘Let me give you my suggestions as you ask for them.

‘(1) I assume that you have a Committee—the Church-
wardens and one or two business men. Take them into
counsel about details.

‘(2) Your work is purely structural restoration, is it not?
This makes a great deal of difference about the architect. If
it is a question of restoring mouldings—i.e. of discovering
what they probably were, and deciding how they ought to be
treated, then the art of the architect comes in: otherwise it
is his capacity as a supervisor of building which you need.
On this point depends your decision whether you ask a man
like Pearson.

*(3) Your idea of having a report, and then acting upon it
locally—i.e. leaving the application of its details to a local
builder—is rather difficult to carry out. In restoring a tower
it is a question of individual stones. Shall this one be
replaced by a new one? Shall it be re-faced? or shall it be
mended by cement? You can scarcely leave this to a clerk
of the works. I doubt if an architect would give his name to
an undertaking of this kind, for which he would be held
responsible, while he was not really so.

‘(4) I am in favour of the most conservative treatment of
such a tower as yours.

VOL, IL. Cc

18 BEGINNING OF EPISCOPAL LIFE 18913

This refers to the beautiful tower of the church at
Hinckley.

The Bishop was able to see the general work of necessary
church restoration in his diocese, which had been energetically
begun in the time of his predecessor, almost completed during
his episcopate. There was one notable exception, about
which he was most anxious, the church of Fotheringhay, alike
conspicuous for its architectural beauty, and rich in its histori-
cal associations. He considered that it held the rank of an
historical monument, and that as the fabric was reported to
be in a dangerous condition and the inhabitants of the little
village could not undertake so large a work themselves, the
help of the outside public might well be asked.

It was of course a work of years to get to know the 676
parishes in his diocese, and some at least the Bishop was
unable to visit during his short episcopate. But he soon
made himself felt throughout the diocese. During the
months of June and July he was almost constantly away from
home, preaching, confirming, reopening churches, giving
away prizes at boys’ and girls’ schools, everywhere gathering
knowledge about men and places.

At Peterborough there were gatherings of Rural Deans
and Mission clergy, garden parties, meetings at the Palace
for different societies, constant interviews with clergy, visits
from curates to be licensed, friends old and new to be
entertained. Amongst others a large party of Newnham and
Girton students visited us, and he showed them the glories of
the Cathedral.

By the end of the summer he was quite ready for
a holiday, and on September 22 we started for Sicily.
We spent a fortnight visiting Palermo, Cefali, Girgenti,
Catania, Syracusa, Taormina, and Messina. He _ never
enjoyed anything more than the two days we spent in
rambling about the ruins of Grecian temples at Girgenti, and
visiting the theatre and forts at Syracusa, he wondered
whether Athens itself could give such an overpowering sense
of the greatness of Greek life as did the solitary ruins of
Girgenti. Taormina he considered the most beautiful place
he had ever seen. On our way back we lingered at Naples
and Verona and reached Peterborough again on October 23.

1891 LETTERS 19

To Count Ugo Balzani ‘Roma: October 15, 1891.

‘Dear Balzani,—Your telegram, which was forwarded here
from Messina, gave me a new pang and prompts me to write
to you and say how sorry we are that our meeting has
failed. ...I1 am afraid that our tour has had too much
travelling in it for the short time at our disposal, and for a
week in Sicily we endured a scirocco. We arrived at Naples
very limp, and stayed there to recover, in which we partially
succeeded. But at Messina there was no spirit left in us, and
the thought of the journey home was awful to our minds. .. .
As we do not want to reach home tired out, we are travelling
on with carefully regulated journeys, so as to secure a night’s
rest... . The purpose still stands to come to Ivrea some
summer, though we hope soon to see you in England again.
There is a charm of novelty about us; you never find us
twice in the same place. Cambridge and Worcester are things
of the past, and I cannot say that Peterborough asa place has
the charm of either.

‘But I wanted to tell you something of my impressions of
Italy. It is now eight years since I visited it, and J am sur-
prised at the advance which has been made. Sicily I never
saw before; but it is obviously flourishing, quite orderly, and
the people industrious, serious, economical, not given to
pleasure. There are scarcely any caffes in Sicily: the
“ Salone” takes their place: men sit and talk, and that suffices
them. A door to sit at and a chair to sit on is enough to
make a Sicilian happy. But Naples surprised me immensely ;
it is thirteen years since Iwas there. Now I was not begged
of, nor was my pocket picked ; cleanliness has grown vastly :
the town has enormously increased, there is much more
industry : the loafers are swept away. I had a vetturino who
perfectly surprised me by his knowledge of history and geo-
graphy. He knew all about European countries, their towns,
their reigning families, their politics. He even talked to me
about Cromwell, Ferdinand the Catholic, and Don Carlos.
He knew about Lord Salisbury and W. H. Smith. I
wondered if any London cabman knew the name of the
Italian prime minister: but then doubtless he has not many
Italian tourists to drive about. However, so far as the cursory
glance of a traveller can discern anything, Italy is growing
steadily in the industry, and therefore in the real wealth, of her
people.

‘Another thing that has struck me is the way which the
Germans have taken to travel: many for pleasure : very many
as commercial travellers, They are willing to pursue small
gains even in out-of-the-way places. But one story which

cs

20 BEGINNING OF EPISCOPAL LIFE 1891

I heard from an Italian commercial traveller seemed to me
very remarkable. The man was a general representative of
foreign houses in the clothing trade: he sold Scotch tweeds
and Lyons silks. He told me he had sent an order for silk
from Palermo, which the Lyons house refused to execute,
because the silks were to be worn at the commemoration of
the “ Vespro Siciliano,” which they regarded as an affront to
France. The traveller told me of his amazement at this
answer : how he wrote that he never mixed politics and com-
merce, and had no idea when the silk was to be worn. The
French house was firm, and he ceased to act for it. Well, I
will not continue my vain and frivolous jottings. I have seen
many things and learned much. I never saw anything so
Greek as Girgenti, or more full of the past of Greece than
Syracusa, and I revelled in the Norman works at Palermo
and Monreale. The only regret attaching to my mind is
that we have missed you, which you must please forgive.’

Letters, 1891.

To the Rev. C. A. Potter
‘ Upper House of Convocation: April 28, 1891.

‘Dear Potter,—Your letter reached me on the morning of
my Consecration. It recalled many old memories, and led me
to wonder why you had so long lapsed into silence—life, as
you say, has lately gone rapidly with me; but, as I look back,
I see that the happiest time was that which I spent in a country
parish. . . . I sit among seven children, all of whom prosper
in their way. One feels old when confronted with tall
daughters and boys at school.

‘I am sitting listening to discussions in which I take a
languid interest. I am trying to learn something of my new
duties ; there is plenty to learn and plenty to do. At present
I have no roof over my head, but hope to settle at Peterborough
in about a fortnight...’

To Mr. Howard Pease ‘Cole Orton Rectory: July 8, 1891.

‘Dear Howard,—I was delighted to get your letter and to
read your articles. I thought your story was very good; it
had an unexpected incident and a good deal of humour and
quaintness of conception. Therefore I say go on and prosper.

‘I quite think that novels are the form of literature which
is most adapted to carry ideas into the popular mind at the
present day. And the question of the literary form of novels
is one which at present affords great scope for ingenuity.
Old forms have been used up, new forms are exhausted with
bewildering rapidity. Probably two forms are the most

1891 LETTERS 21

promising: (1) the form which deals with manners and
customs, local, provincial or social ; (2) the historical novel.
If I were to develop my views on the last further, I should

say that the historical novel lent itself to three modes of
treatment: (a) the romantic—used up by Scott and Dumas,
and their followers; (8) the patriotic—never used in England,
but well known in Spain and Italy: rather difficult of appli-
cation to English life; (vy) the psychological or philoso-
phical, which affords an opportunity of developing character
with a distinctness which a modern setting does not allow.
We know the complexity of life at present; we resent the
attempt to isolate or emphasise one side of it. The modern
French novel is perfectly ridiculous, because it makes a man
be in love with a woman for years, tells you nothing of his or
her life or character, except what concerns that relationship.
This is absurd, unnatural and fatuous. We are conscious of
the puppets and can see the strings. There is really no merit
in such books,

‘There I have rambled on enough to tell you my general
views ; the diversions of a hard-worked bishop who is always
wandering about.’

Toa Cambridge pupil ‘Peterborough: September 10, 18¢1,

‘Your question is an important one, and has to be con-
sidered with a view to general principles. The first point to
make perfectly clear is what you wanzt to do. Now I am of
opinion that a continuous career at Cambridge is not the best
thing fora man. . . . Reflect that Cambridge can give you at
best a lectureship with or without a terminable fellowship—
and that its temptations are to easy indolence or absorption
in.University business. You might or might not like India
for a permanence. But even a few years there would teach
you much, both in expanding your sphere of knowledge of
history and of men and things. It would make you more
valuable to Cambridge if at any time you wished to return, or
it would fit you for other work in England. I think that a man
succeeds by the energy which he has within him, more than
by a careful adjustment of external circumstances.

‘It is a question of a venture. If you feel within you the
force to make a venture for the good of your own mind rather
than with a view to any definite career, do so. If you feel
that you are better suited to pursue a cautious course towards
the fleshpots of Cambridge, do so.

‘But get the issue quite straight. If you go—go, because
you wish to learn, and you gladly take the chance of extending

22 BEGINNING OF EPISCOPAL LIFE 1891

your experience. Go without any attempt to forecast or
adjust the future. Go saying, “I want to become a wiser and
a larger man; if I become so, there will be more and better
work for me to do, somewhere, somehow; and bread and
water will not be wanting.”

‘ Again, if you go, go at once; throw over your engage-
ments which are not binding, and put yourself in the hands of
the authorities to go when they want you. Never dally over
a career which you are leaving; get to your new work at
once. No habit is more to be encouraged than that of
plunging into what you undertake.

‘These are the heads of my advice. You can judge if
you look within; you vacillate if you look without.’

To Miss Alice Gardner ~ Peterborough, October 27, 1891.

‘Dear Miss Gardner,—I so much value my connexion
with Newnham College that I should submit myself to your
pleasure in the matter of serving on the Council. But I do
not know that I would be very acceptable —however, that is a
point which you can probably discover. Also I do not know
that I can promise absolute regularity of attendance; but
I will come as often as I can if I get long enough notice.

‘I often think of Cambridge with regret. In fact, on
coming back from a holiday in Sicily it seemed more natural
to take the train at King’s Cross for Cambridge than for
Peterborough, which has hardly begun to feel like home.’

EOE a

CHAPTER Ii
EPISCOPAL ADMINISTRATION

IN the Diocese of Peterborough there are many small! country
parishes, red-brick villages lying amongst the pastures of
Leicestershire, clusters of grey or brown stone houses round
a mighty church in Northamptonshire, besides many quiet
little country towns such as Towcester, Oundle, or Oakham,
and growing manufacturing places like Wellingborough and
Hinckley. The shoe industry, which, owing to the intro-
duction and perfection of the new machines, was, when
Creighton became bishop, rapidly becoming exclusively a
factory instead of a home industry, went on constantly ex-
tending into new districts. A big factory would be planted in
a quiet country village, and the vicar, accustomed to the care
of a few hundred agricultural labourers, saw his parish invaded
by crowds of shoe-hands. The question of church extension
was always a pressing one, especially in Leicester, which had
grown so rapidly as to outstrip the efforts made by all the
various religious organisations to keep pace with it. Bishop
Magee had founded a Church Extension Society both for
Leicester and Northampton, and in his episcopate of twenty-
two years, one hundred thousand pounds was spent on church
building. The churches planned under his supervision were
for the most part completed, but the need had gone on grow-
ing with ever-increasing rapidity. Dr. Creighton. spoke for
the first time at a Church Extension meeting in Leicester, in
November 1891. He appealed to the Christian patriotism of
his audience to see that those who were drawn in from the
surrounding country to the busy industrial life of Leicester
should have provision made for their souls’ health,

‘Industrial civilisation is at first only busied with filling
men’s pockets ; thought and care for their higher interests limp

24 EPISCOPAL ADMINISTRATION 1891

like laggards behind the eager pursuit of material benefits.
The towns, as their streets grow, tell of the activity of the
municipal body, of the care of the sanitary inspectors. But it
is left to the quickened conscience of the community at large
to do what is needed to maintain the high spiritual interests
without which external things are vain and empty. . . . The
dwellers in towns are robbed of the beauties of the country, but
they have some compensations. They have the advantage of
a quickened intellectual life—they ask questions which are
not asked by the dwellers in the country—their spiritual
nature is not dead ; on the contrary, itis very inquisitive. . .
It is useless to multiply wealth, to build houses and streets,
unless the people who live in them have some high and noble
ideal of life.’

He asked for 5,800/, to meet the most pressing needs, and
was much gratified when a gift of 1,000/. from one donor was
announced during the meeting.

A few days later he spoke on the same subject at
Northampton, and said that much social failure had taught us
that we had neglected in the past to make sure that ‘imperish-
able basis upon which a nation’s greatness must ultimately
depend.’ ‘Progress goes hand in hand with Christianity.
The central idea of Christianity is that of unlimited progress—
progress and liberty.’ He concluded by pointing out that
a time had been reached when the Church, in towns, must
depend very largely upon the voluntary help of its people,
who must help it as their ancestors had done.

Year after year these appeals had to be made. As
he learnt to know the special conditions better, the Bishop
made his appeal more direct. He showed how a link was
needed between employers and men under the altered con-
ditions of living, since the employers by living away from
their men had incurred a new obligation; they must learn
to look upon the clergy as their agents. He pointed out how
the great churches built by their ancestors in Leicester still
remained, whilst the castle and the monastery had perished, a
sign that it was the spiritual life of the people that must be
the mainspring of the national existence. It was his opinion
that the clergyman should be paid for by the people amongst
whom he ministered, but that the church should be built by
the munificence of the employers ; but he wished subscription

1891 WORK IN LEICESTER 25

lists to be more democratised, and that each person, however
poor, should feel the call to give what he could.

On all occasions he insisted that the new churches must
be an ornament to the city. He was especially interested
in the plans for the church of St. James to be built on a
commanding site in Leicester, opposite the Victoria Park.
He suggested that it should follow the design of a basilica ;
the architect, Mr. Goddard, a Leicester man, and a personal
friend, warmly fell in with his views. There was considerable
opposition on the building committee, but the plan was
carried through, and a church built which has won much
admiration, but which the Bishop was destined never to see.'

It seemed to him most urgent that he should learn to
understand so important a part of his diocese as the city of
Leicester, and that its people should get to know him. So he
decided to reside there for some weeks in each year. Heand
I settled ourselves in lodgings in Leicester towards the end
of October 1891, for about three weeks. The days were spent
in incessant work, meetings followed one another in quick
succession, clergy were interviewed, institutions visited, and
many sermons preached. One of the Sundays is described
in the following letter to my daughter:

‘November 2, 1891.

‘We had a tremendous day yesterday. First we went to
an eight o’clock celebration in Mr. Robinson’s church, where
father celebrated, and then we went to breakfast with him.
. . . After breakfast father and I drove off to another church in
the outskirts of Leicester, where he preached, and after service
we lunched with the vicar, quite a young man, living in
lodgings, and the curate. After lunch we drove to another
church in Leicester, the great Evangelical church, where
father instituted a new vicar and gave a little address... .
After that we drove back here to tea and then soon we went off
again toa great ritualistic church where father was to preach.
I got there about a quarter of an hour before service, but it
was crammed, and I got about the last seat. There were
chairs all up the aisles and people stood all through the
service, and some hundreds were turned away. After that the

day’s work was over, and we came back here to a quiet and
frugal meal.’

From Leicester he went to assist at a general Mission
* See letters on p. 466,

26 EPISCOPAL ADMINISTRATION 1891

in Northampton. He had commended the Mission to the
people of Northampton in the following letter :

‘Dearly beloved in the Lord,—You are aware that the
clergy of Northampton, acting on a strong feeling of their
duties as teachers of the Christian faith, have decided to hold
a Mission in all churches of the town, for the days beginning
on November 14 next. The object of this special effort is to
provide courses of continuous teaching, suited to all classes
and to all ages, of the great truths which concern the spiritual
life of the soul. All knowledge demands attention : and the
business of daily life makes us forgetful, or heedless, of the
higher part of our nature. It is well for all of us to have put
before us, from time to time, the large issues of our lives as
God’s children. We all need greater knowledge of God and
of ourselves. We should be ready to use the opportunities
afforded us of increasing this knowledge. I therefore affec-
tionately admonish you not to reject the instruction which
will be put before you, but prayerfully to seek for an under-
standing heart and a humble spirit, that you may profit to
your soul’s health. There is much to be learned, and each
opportunity of learning brings with it a new responsibility.’

The Bishop opened the Mission by an address in All
Saints church to the Mission workers. He remained in the
town throughout the Mission, attending and helping in many
services, everywhere encouraging the clergy by his presence
and sympathy. He addressed railway men at their dinner
hour, preached to the inmates of the workhouse, and on the
last Saturday evening spoke to some three thousand working-
men in the Corn Exchange. He was always at his best in
addressing such a meeting. His manly, direct manner
appealed to the men at once, his crisp and pointed sentences
rivetted their attention, and his ready humour gained their
sympathy. In this speech he told them that the real enemy
of religion in these days, as it had always been, was
indifference, the old complaint of the world; men who tried
to do good had had to face it at all times.

‘If we go back to the time of the Greeks, and ask what to
the Greek mind was the greatest sin, we find that it was
insolence. To them insolence meant the failure of a man to
realise what was his true attitude to life, to understand that
he was bound, if he would be a true man, to face life boldly
and fearlessly with all its issues, to think through its problems,

1891 SPEECH TO WORKING-MEN 27

to recognise the limits under which his life had to be lived.
Still the same thing is needed. We still ask you to look at
your life straight, to see what it means, to see what are the
things that will destroy it. And we are forced to conclude
with the old Greeks that it is insolence which destroys a
man’s life... . What the Greeks called insolence, we call
irreverence ; and irreverence is at the bottom of indifference.
It means the want of respect for anything but a man’s own
desires, the want of self-sacrifice, of self-restraint, the want of
manliness, the want of a desire to think things out, to face
life and its issues broadly and courageously. . . . I have been
struck during this Mission with the reverence shown by the
crowds in the churches, but I could not help also being
struck by the irreverence shown by the crowds in the streets.
You will ask what I mean by this. I will tell you what are
the signs of the irreverent spirit. We meet a band of young
men walking down the street, filling the pavement, singing
and shouting at the top of their voices, jostling against the
other passengers. They would tell you that they were merely
enjoying themselves. But what is the spirit they are showing ?
It is that spirit of irreverence which means self-assertion, which
makes them behave as if the world belonged to them and them
only, without any thought of others. Indifference to religion
springs from just the same source as that irreverence. .
Irreverence is destructive to society of every kind. Human
life cannot rest upon a basis of self-assertion. Progress,
civilisation, human life, all rest upon the assumption that every
man in the exercise of his own rights shall respect the rights of
others, . . . In the present day there is an idea that every man
can settle everything for himself and by himself. We glory
in our constantly increasing freedom, especially in freedom
in the expression of opinion, and it is the highest form of
freedom that every man should speak out the truth that is in
him and should suffer others to do the same, It is right that
everyone should exercise this freedom, but a man should not
speak without a due sense of the responsibility of speaking.
His words must not be mere echoes of other men’s words, but
must come from the fulness of his own heart. If a man
claims to be free to express his opinion, it should be an
opinion that is his own because he has thought it out for
himself. Freedom does not mean the throwing overboard all
authority and the growth of self-assertion.’

Fle then delighted his audience by telling them the story
of a Chartist who talked over with a shoemaker the Chartist
programme, and said that he agreed with most of it, but did

28 EPISCOPAL ADMINISTRATION 1892

not think yearly Parliaments quite long enough, as a man
could not learn his business in that time. Upon this the
shoemaker rose and said, ‘If I were sent to Parliament, do
you think there is any question upon which I should not be
fit to pronounce an opinion after a night’s thought?’

His presence during the Mission helped to make the
Bishop well known in Northampton. He formed a real
friendship with Canon Hull,’ vicar of All Saints, the leading
clergyman in the city. When he went to Northampton he
constantly stayed with Canon Hull, and his knowledge of the
place helped the Bishop to enter fully into all its needs.

The visits to Leicester were repeated every subsequent
autumn, and the consecutive weeks spent there, together with
frequent short visits at other times, enabled the Bishop to get
a real hold upon the city. He did not limit his attentions to
any one class, but tried to make all alike feel that he wished
them to come to him for any help which he could give,
During the days of incessant work whilst he lived in his
Leicester lodging, his only recreation was a visit to a merry
family of boys in a poor vicarage. Bishop and boys alike
enjoyed the wild romps which then took place, and he would
come out from them exhausted but refreshed. He did not
forget his little friends when he was away from them, and wrote
to their father :

‘December 19, 1892.

‘Will you do me the kindness of taking charge of the
enclosed and expending it in Christmas presents for your
children? It is not fair to throw on you this labour, but I
feel that perhaps you could do it more efficiently than I could
myself.’

During his third stay in Leicester, the Bishop asked the
clergy to arrange conferences for him with the various
classes of persons connected with the Church: Sunday and
day school teachers, churchwardens, sidesmen, choirmen,
district visitors, and the clergy themselves. About the
arrangements for these conferences, he wrote to the Rev. H.
S. Gedge:

* Canon Hull died after a long illness some months before the Bishop, and ©
unfortunately destroyed befor: his death the letters which he had received
from him.

1893 1 CONFERENCES OF CHURCHWORKERS 29

* October 13, 1893.

‘The numbers that you quote are rather appalling, but you
may reckon on many absentees, and I think all might be
asked except Sunday school teachers: I think in their case
representatives might suffice.

‘I wish it to be known as widely as possible that what I
want is not to address them, but to confer with them, and
I want them to talk with me... -

The district visitors were a little alarmed at the high
ideal of their work which he held up before them. But the
opportunity of talking over their difficulties with their Bishop
was much appreciated by all workers.

To the Rev. Canon Stocks
‘Craven House, Leicester: November 4, 1893.

‘Dear Stocks,—The churchwardens attended in their
thousands and went on till ten o’clock. I send you a few
notes.

‘(1) Inventories of Church goods apparently non-existent.
It would be well if the clergy entered their present possessions
in the Vestry Book, and introduced the custom that the out-
going churchwarden should hand them over to the incoming
churchwarden, who should sign his name as a receipt—
appending any necessary remark.

‘(2) The parish which disposes of its alms in the right way
is St. George’s. There is a relief committee to which clergy
and district visitors alike recommend.

‘(3) The alms expended on the poor ought to be accounted
for at the annual vestry, and with the statement should bea
book containing names and dates to tally.

‘(4) Too great pains cannot be taken to make everything
connected with the Church monies and possessions absolutely
businesslike. Only so will business men give their money.
They clearly showed that unbusinesslike ways in the past
strongly influenced them now.

‘(5) About church-going they had much to say, but it was
very like what the clergy say. I give you some suggestions.
For morning services, .

‘(a) Shorter, with shorter sermons : ten to fifteen minutes,
plain and practical.

‘(B) Less elaborate music, more congregational singing.

‘(y) Decided irritation against curates who read lessons
unintelligibly and gabble prayers. Clearly the reading of
lessons is of great importance.

*(8) More visiting of men: more downrightness in asking

30 EPISCOPAL ADMINISTRATION 1893

them to go to church: more display of personal interest in
them by the clergy.

‘There was a feeling that the #zez were rather neglected.

‘(¢) Sunday morning walks; but a working-man denied
the necessity of this, as Saturday was a half-holiday ; and the
men were all up long before eleven.

‘(€) Clubs open on Sunday at service-time.

‘(m) No organisation for looking up absentees. A sugges-
tion that each congregation should have two or three V7sz¢ors,
who looked up those who were by way of coming to church,
when they began to drop off. One man said: “ The clergy
are not businesslike : we business men have to look after our
customers, and the clergy should do the same.” Said that,
though sidesman and twenty years in parish, he had not been
visited six times, and at presént the two curates had never
called on him at all—lI forbore to ask his parish.

‘(@) Working-men, not brought up as Churchmen, find
dissenting service easier to understand. This is absolutely
true. Men need training to the Church Service. Sunday
schools, catechising, children’s services, should keep this
clearly in view. Mission services also.

‘(c) There were complaints about sermons being adout
nothing. Young curates lose themselves in elaborate doctrinal
expositions which clear up nothing. They use too long
words, Greater simplicity and sense needed in sermons,’

To the same ‘ Peterborough : November 25, 1893.

‘Dear Stocks,—. .. . You may make any use you think
fit of my letter. I think that more attention to the practical
side of visiting would be well. It might be possible for the
Church to do more to show itself the friend of the people,
working for their physical and social welfare, but working
wisely and seeking for the best way of helping. This cannot
be done without some knowledge of principles. I can only
suggest that some addresses be given to clergy and district
visitors by competent persons.

‘The hindrance to churchgoing is indifference: and this
comes because men do not see the good of it. Only zeal for
their welfare in some way that they can understand will attract
them. This is the point of attachment between their con-
science and the Gospel which is at present revealed to us,
All social movements however futile are our opportunities :
we should sympathise with what is true in them.

‘ There is one perhaps trivial point which I think important,
It came prominently before me in a remark of one of the

Pore

Se ee

1893 SPECIAL SERVICES 31

choirmen, that they would go into church happier if the clergy
said good day and shook hands with them in the vestry.
This was a far-reaching remark. The spirit of Christ differs
from the spirit of the world, not so much in its superior
activity or capacity, as in its different temper. In a busy
place like Leicester the clergy have much business and much
organisation. But they should not do it in the same way as
worldly business is done. Somehow we should feel and show
that we meet as Christian brethren, not as men of business.
We ought to bring kindliness, geniality, courtesy, personal
friendliness to all that we do. I think that all our meetings
in Leicester could be improved greatly in that way. If the
clergy will think it over they will see great force in the choir-
man’s remark. Do they know his family circumstances? do
they ever enquire? Are they his friends? or are they like
his employer during the week? Christian influence is the
influence of a life, and a life must speak to another life, not
in the abstract way only, but beginning from particulars.’
The Bishop was very particular about the services for all
kinds of special occasions. He examined the forms used
elsewhere for Consecration, Dedication and other services,
and adapted those which best satisfied him for use in his
diocese. He hated any muddle or sense of fuss, but objected
equally to unpunctuality, unnecessary pauses and long-drawn-
out services. He wished everything to be carefully thought
out and arranged beforehand. His own promptness enabled
him to get through functions quickly, without giving any sense
of hurry. Whenever possible he liked to institute a new vicar
himself, and by his presence and sympathy to encourage him
in the beginning of his work. Curates were licensed by him-
self in his private chapel, and he always tried to have a talk
with them about themselves, and about the special conditions
of the parish to which they were going. One curate remem-
bers his saying, ‘ Make a friend of your vicar, don’t keep any
of your difficulties from him. I know this is what he will wish.’
Love for children made him delight in his Confirmations.
He tried to arrange that the service should not last more than
an hour, so that the children might not be wearied ; and he
would never confirm more than two hundred at a time.
Directions were issued by him to the clergy for the conduct
of the service in which he went into the most minute detail, so
as to secure that a continuous stream of candidates should

32 EPISCOPAL ADMINISTRATION

come up in an orderly manner. He gave two short addresses
at every Confirmation, speaking to the children from his very
heart, and trying always to give them something which they
could carry away.

He wrote once: ‘I have been away from home confirming.
I always like that part of my work; it is very nice going
from one village church to another, in this lovely weather, and
seeing all the young people, and trying to say something
which they may remember.’ And again: ‘It is a great
privilege of my office that I am brought into contact with
many young lives in my Confirmations.’

His previous experience as examining chaplain helped him
in making the arrangements for his Ordinations. He knew
exactly what he wanted. The few days before the Ordina-
tion were meant to be days of serious preparation, yet not
exactly like a retreat ; he wished them to give opportunities
not only for teaching, prayer and meditation, but also for
social intercourse between the candidates and their Bishop
and his chaplains, as well as with one another. He changed
Dr. Magee’s arrangements by separating the examination
from the Ordination. The candidates were not invited to
stay at the Palace during their examination, because he did
not like to enter into personal relations with men whom he
might afterwards have to reject. He took great pains about
the examinations with regard to the choice of subjects
and other points, and was always ready to support his
examiners, though he sometimes took a more lenient view
than they did. His chief concern was with the character and
general capacities of the men, and for these things he had,
in the opinion of his chaplains, an almost unerring insight.
At the time of the Ordination our children were sent away,
as many candidates as possible were lodged in the Palace,
and the rest were taken in by the Dean and Canons, but all
spent the whole day at the Palace. He had at once secured
the services of Canon Yates, one of Dr. Magee’s examining
chaplains.

To the Rev. Canon Yates ‘February 23, 1891.

‘Your experience of the past and your knowledge of the
Diocese would furnish a link of continuity, which I should
regret to see destroyed... . Your fellow-examiners will be

ORDINATIONS 33

Bigg of Ch. Ch., now rector of Fenny Compton, whom perhaps
you know, and who is quite the best examiner I have ever
come across; and Arthur Lyttelton, the Master of Selwyn
College.’

He was glad if all three chaplains could be present during
the days preceding the Ordination, so that they might see as
much of the men as possible. At meals he would not have
them sit together or by himself or me, but liked them to
distribute themselves amongst the candidates. The only
relaxation allowed was when they took a walk with him in
the afternoon, or met in his study to smoke and talk after
ten o’clock in the evening.

Another clergyman was always invited to give addresses
in the chapel, and also to preach the Ordination sermon.
He considered it important that the men should not be
troubled by any possible diversity of teaching, and that one
man should have the opportunity of speaking his mind fully
on such an important occasion. The last address in the
chapel he gave himself, and then he allowed no one but the
candidates to be present. No record of the words then
uttered remains except in the lives of those to whom they
were spoken. One of them writes :

‘The abiding impression left on my mind of these
addresses was a sense of the sacredness and dignity and awful
responsibility of the Ministry which I had not been able to
realise before. And his words had such a strange power
because one felt them to be absolutely and transparently
sincere. There was none of the pulpit manner, no rhetoric,
no seeking after effect. You felt that this was not “an
address,” but that he was talking to you all alone by yourself,
and dealing with your soul individually at the most solemn
moment in your life. And that absence of the pulpit manner
was, I think, the secret of the power of all his addresses that
I ever heard. Other men, even the best, when they preach,
are at a higher pitch, and in a different key, to what they are
out of the pulpit. But he was always just himself. He
never “ preached,” he just talked to you perfectly naturally ;
and fee effect was greater than the finest oratory in the
world,’

On the afternoons of the days before the Ordination the
Bishop instituted conferences or meetings for discussion. The
VOL. Il. D

34 EPISCOPAL ADMINISTRATION

subject was chosen by the candidates, and introduced by one
of them who had prepared a short paper beforehand. The
Bishop then called on each of the priests in turn to speak
and finally on the chaplains. All considered it a rather for-
-midable ordeal, but felt amply repaid by the Bishop’s final
summing up. Dr. Bigg says: ‘He began in a tone of good-
natured banter, tearing up any foolish things that had been
uttered, then defined the terms, then laid down principles,
then gave sound practical advice, and wound up in an exalted
impressive strain.’ Dr. A. T. Lyttelton writes :

‘The Bishop summed up the discussion with great skill in
gathering up the different opinions and in giving his own
view so as to throw a wholly new light upon it. I recollect
some of these summings up as really extraordinary instances
of his combination of grasp, sympathy, and originality of
mind.’

One of the candidates says :

‘One felt that when he had spoken there was nothing
else to be said; no one could have added anything more, for
there was no more to be said. It gave one the impression of
finality. I think this impression never lost its force. Whenever
I heard him speak subsequently, whether in sermons or
addresses at Confirmation, or in conversation, the same feeling
was always present. One might perhaps not always agree
with him in everything, but one always felt that there was
a fulness in what he said which was entire and complete.’

Another candidate recalls how, at one of the conferences,
he had objected to the practice of holding the Sunday school
in the church as likely to diminish the reverence children
should feel for the church. In his summing up, the Bishop
said that he did not agree, but people needed to be taught
that their parish church was their spiritual home, and not
a sort of ornamental idol in stone.

Every detail of the Ordination service was ordered by the
Bishop. The candidates were sent into the Cathedral on the
Saturday afternoon so as to be instructed in the arrangements
for the service, and shown exactly what they would have to
do. He introduced the plan of having each candidate called
upon loudly and clearly by name, by one of the chaplains, to
come up for Ordination. During the singing of the ‘ Veni

es a

ORDINATIONS 35

Creator’ the assisting clergy were made to group themselves
standing round the Bishop, and thus visibly to invoke a
blessing on the kneeling candidates. Each man to be ordained
priest was bidden to bring his stole in his hand, which the
Bishop himself put round his neck after Ordination.

Dr. A. T. Lyttelton writes: ‘In rather a wide and varied
experience of Ordinations, I have seen none more dignified
and solemn than those at Peterborough.’

The candidates never forgot the days spent at the Palace.
The Bishop in all his intercourse with them was extra-
ordinarily free, genial, and communicative. He made them
easily at home with him; but at the same time they felt that
he impressed himself more upon them than anyone who
approached them authoritatively would have done.

His excellent memory for faces helped him much in his
intercourse with them; he always knew their names, their
faces, and all about them. When those who had been
ordained deacon the year before arrived to be ordained
priest, he remembered each individually,and where they were
working ; even when he met them unexpectedly, in different
parts of the diocese, he would show that he knew all about
them, and astonish them by his extraordinary memory and
genuine sympathy.

‘I look back,’ writes one of the candidates, upon the
three days spent in the Palace at Peterborough at the time
of Ordination as the most interesting in my life, for the
Bishop with his magnetic personality inspired us all with an
intense admiration for him.’ At meal times all crowded to
get near his end of the table, and his talk fascinated them.
‘It was so interesting,’ says one, ‘that we found it difficult
to eat.’ It was full of variety ; sometimes he told amusing
anecdotes, or he would tell of his personal experiences, of
people and countries that he had seen, speaking of Russian
novels, or Francis of Assisi, or the beauties of Dalmatia.
Another time he would startle them by some paradox about
education, and draw them out to express their own opinions ;
all with such a light touch and such good-natured humour,
that he seemed as young as the youngest; and yet, as one
of them says, ‘ he was always so dignified that we went away

stirred to the depths of our heart by the example of his
D2

36 EPISCOPAL ADMINISTRATION

saintly character, and filled with love and admiration for
him and everything that made him so great.’ ‘He never
oppressed us with his dignity,’ says another, ‘and never made
us feel uncomfortable. He met us on our ground, and looked
at a subject from our point of view, and treated us so fairly.
When we were beaten in argument, and of course we always
were, we could not say to ourselves “if he had not been our
Bishop, I could have said this or that.”’

His talk was interspersed with many bits of practical
advice. ‘Neverspend more than two minutes a day over the
newspaper.’ ‘Don’t try to do too much; if any of you over-
work yourselves, don’t come to me for sympathy.’ When
one man spoke of his difficulty in finding illustrative anec-
dotes for his sermons, and begged that someone would re-
commend him a book, the Bishop said he knew of exactly
the book he wanted, the Bible, and proceeded to point out
the interest of the Bible stories, and how they could be used
to illustrate teaching on questions of the day. He was fond
of puzzling cocksure people, and when a prim little man
asked him what books he recommended for devotional read-
ing the reply was: ‘ H’m, yes, I don’t know what devotional
reading is. He would join little groups of men as they
gathered in the Abbot’s Hall and ask ‘ What are you talking
about ?’ and mix in the talk as one of themselves. At one
moment he was a boy among boys, the next he was the
devout priest, then the dignified prelate, all quite naturally
and just as circumstances demanded. But, with all his kind-
ness, he left upon men the impression that he was a person
of whom they would have been terribly afraid, if they had
done anything to incur his censure.

A rule had been made by Dr. Magee which Dr. Creighton
confirmed, that curates during their diaconate might only
preach one sermon a month of their own composition. Two
of the sermons had to be sent to the Bishop for his inspection.
At his private interview with each candidate, he used to speak
about these sermons, and he also wrote his criticisms on
them : ‘ Good, but are there not too many subjects?’ ‘ This is
all wrong, &c. One man remembers two lines of comment
at the end of his sermon ‘which have since been of value to
me over and over again,’ These interviews were looked for-

ORDINATIONS 37

ward to with a good deal of dread, produced especially by
anticipation of the Bishop’s possible criticism on the sermons.
But the dread soon disappeared in the presence of his
kindly sympathy. ‘He did not attempt,’ writes one man, ‘to
pick our feeble productions to pieces, but he would point out
to us mistakes of method and faults of construction. It
seemed to me that the ideal of preaching which he aimed
at was to reach the hearts of our people by plain jdirect
statements of that which we ourselves sincerely believed,’

At one of these private interviews, a candidate was some-
what disconcerted because the Bishop, after looking at him
for some time without speaking, asked him if he were engaged ;
he then went on to give him some sound advice about the
social difficulties of the large town to which he was going.
He was keenly alive to the dangers of a curate’s life, and to
the disadvantage of his allowing himself to get entangled in
an early engagement. He said that he would like to make
a rule that no curate in his diocese should be allowed to
get engaged without first bringing the young lady to him for
his approval; but if any did become engaged, he always
showed a sympathetic interest.

On the Sunday afternoons after the Ordination the candi-
dates were asked to bring any relations or friends who had
come to Peterborough for the service to tea at the Palace to
see the Bishop. He always urged the candidates to stay in
the Diocese, saying : ‘Don’t leave your diocese; you will go
where you are not known.’

‘These days at the Palace [writes one of the men] had an
enormous effect upon one’s relationship to the Bishop. The
impression which he left was a most marked one. We went
away absolutely under the spell of his attractive personality.
He left the impression of extraordinary kindness. I think
the fascination which he exercised was almost unbounded.
He had the power of making you feel that you were the one
person he was interested in, and that he was anxious to see.
He had the gift of never appearing bored. He never forgot
us. The indelible impression left is one of great, kindliness,
graciousness, and a charm of manner which it is hardly pos-
sible to overstate.’ !

* This account of the Peterborough Ordinations is drawn mainly from re-
miniscences sent me by the Bishop’s chaplains and by the men he ordained.

38 EPISCOPAL ADMINISTRATION

The relations begun at the time of Ordination between
the Bishop and his younger clergy continued during the years
that followed. One of them writes:

‘I do not know how to analyse his influence on young
men like myself, which turned admiration into enthusiastic
devotion and absolute confidence. It was impossible to be
afraid of him and impossible not to talk to him just as freely
as if one was speaking to one’s own father. He must have
had a marvellous power of sympathy. We young men
always felt he was our Bishop, belonging to us especially. ...
The happiest evenings in our lives were those nights after
some long function, when he used to sit with all of us round
him,' and encourage us to attack one of those delightful
paradoxes of his, and we talked without any sense of restraint,
with all the free feeling of a college common room, without
feeling conscious of any check imposed on us by his presence,
and yet somehow, with all that delightful sense of perfect
freedom and open confidence, we were taken to a higher
level of thought.

‘It is useless for me to try to describe his method of
influencing us. His method was himself. Just to be with
him gave us all a new ideal and a new enthusiasm, beyond
that personal devotion to him which made one ready to follow
him anywhere and do anything he counselled.’

Patrons who made enquiries of the Bishop about suitable
men for livings, were struck by his knowledge of the curates
in his Diocese. He would do nothing which might weaken
the personal tie with them.

To the Rev. Canon Stocks ‘ Aug. 1, 1892.

‘I gave letters dimissory in one case, and was so impressed
with the unsatisfactory nature of the proceeding that I have
since then refused. I have all the responsibility and none of
the means of assuring myself that I am right. I establish no
bond between the young man and myself, and know little or
nothing about him afterwards. I came to the conclusion that
the temporary inconvenience to the incumbent was less serious
than the weakening of diocesan unity.’

The following letters further illustrate the Bishop’s rela-
tions to the younger clergy :

‘ This was at Mr. Bernard Wilson’s house at Kettering, where his curates live

with him,

RELATIONS WITH CLERGY 39

To one who was thinking of foreign service
‘Peterborough: April 11, 1892.

‘IT have been thinking much about you. I see that you
consider that you ought to go to Assyria, and I incline to
think you ought. Somebody must go; the call has come
without your seeking it: there are no substantial reasons
against it. Therefore I say, Go. Personally I should have
liked to keep you, and I shall part from you with real sorrow :
but I must not try to keep everybody in my diocese.

‘I can sympathise with your difficulties in leaving your
vicar in a strait. But that is just one of the motives which
ought not to weigh with you. No one would have thought
that it ought to prevent you from accepting a good living in
England : therefore it ought not to prevent you from going
to Assyria. Further, it is a great danger to form a construc-
tive judgment. The issue is simply Assyria or England.
Times, seasons, conditions, circumstances, ought not to affect
that. Further, if you decide to go, the sooner the better.
You cannot have your heart in a work which you are soon to
leave : life is too short to admit of transitionary states being
prolonged. It would not be to the real interest of St. Mark’s
that you should stay for a time with the intention of going
at a convenient season. There never will be a convenient
season : something is always in the way. ... Tell me your
final decision. God bless you.’

To the same ‘St. Edmund’s Vicarage, Northampton: April 21, 1892.

‘My advice certainly supposed that personal reasons were
equal. But what you tell me entirely alters the case. (1)
No one ought to commit himself to any work abroad, contrary
to’ medical advice. In the army and civil service no one is
eligible who cannot pass a medical examination. The same
applies 2 foro interno to the clergy.

‘(2) You are not justified in sacrificing your sister.

‘Therefore I unsay my previous advice, which was given
on points of principle, not on questions of fact.

‘But I do say,

‘(1) Your mind ought to be made up quickly.

*(2) It ought to be made up decidedly, without any reserve
about future possibilities. Never keep vague plans
before you. Decide as well as you can and then
dismiss the matter.

‘Get the facts before you and decide, and then forget all

about it,’

40 EPISCOPAL ADMINISTRATION

To one who was going to Australia
‘ Peterborough: February 4, 1896.

‘IT have just seen Mr. and have discussed with him
the condition of the parish. He has told me of your willing-
ness to stay with him for a time in his present anxiety. I
cannot recommend you to do so to the abandonment of your
previous project. Frankly,in this matter Iam thinking much
of yourself, and what is good for you. First, there is danger
in abandoning a decision for private considerations. Secondly,
I think that you would benefit in health by a sojourn in a
good climate; and that you would benefit by the new ex-
perience which you would there gain. Lastly, I think that
the mere fact that your relations with your vicar have been
so intimate is a proof that a variety of experience would be
beneficial. :

‘You will understand that in saying this I am considering
you, perhaps unduly. But I think I may venture to give you
my advice as freely and fully as the facts occur to my own
mind.’

To another ‘October 15, 1895,

‘]l am very sorry that you think of leaving your work at
But I feel that the claims of the Colonial Church are
so pressing that I ought not to be selfish. If you offer your-
self for work in Brisbane, I should certainly consider that it
did not break your connexion with this diocese, and I should
welcome you at any time on your return.’

To the Rev. Canon Watson ‘ November 19, 1896.

‘There is a point on which I should like you to act in the
new calendar. I have undertaken to regard some clergy who
have gone abroad as still connected with the diocese. The
subject of foreign service is now before the Bishops generally :
and a proposal, which doubtless will be accepted, is that such
clergy be printed in the Diocesan Calendar for their diocese
in a list headed On Foreign Service. 1 should like to leave

such a record for my successor. He may remove it if he
thinks fit,’

To one who had been offered a living in another diocese
‘ February 14, 1893.
‘It is natural that L should have greater attractions
than E , and I have nothing to urge why you should not
follow your own desires. But there is this to be said: that
if you leave the diocese you begin your career afresh. I do

RELATIONS WITH CLERGY 41

not know what you would ultimately like to settle down to:
but you could tell me your wishes at any time: you will not
have a similar opportunity elsewhere.

‘I only wish you to look ahead before you decide. I do
not wish to lay upon you any obligation to E I am
thankful for what you have done there: but I cannot ask
you to go on as a matter of duty. I wish to leave you
entirely free. May God direct you according to His good
Providence.’

To the same * October 23, 1895.

‘I am going to ask you to succeed I was reading
the other day a letter of Bishop Grosseteste appointing an
archdeacon. He said that if he could have found a man more
suitable, he would not have appointed him tothe post. I can
say the same to you. I know the difficulties which must
naturally exist, but you are better able to overcome them and
make a new start than anyone else. . . . You have taken one
hard post at my request. I feel an added responsibility in
asking you to take another. God-be with you and direct
you.’

To the Rev. Alan Williams
*The Palace, Peterborough : September 24, 1896.

‘My dear Mr. Williams,—I am very glad that you have
been called to such a useful and interesting work as the care
of seamen in South Africa. It is a work in which you will
certainly learn much, and I trust will do much. It demands
the difficult qualities of entire simplicity and entire straight-
forwardness. It is easier to be complicated than to be
simple, it is easier to be an ecclesiastical partisan than a
straightforward Christian. You will have to fall back upon
your inmost self. Forms are of use to us that they may
train us into a strength of character which we can display
under any circumstances, and can adapt to any forms which
may be most useful to others.

‘This I think is the secret of all mission work—readiness
to approach others from the side from which they can be
most easily approached,—not only from the side on which
we ourselves have learned. May God bless and prosper you.’

It was not only the younger clergy who were stimulated
by the Bishop. One of his Rural Deans writes :
‘He took the keenest interest in all his clergy, and was

always prompt and thorough in dealing with any question
great or small which they put before him. He expected

42 EPISCOPAL ADMINISTRATION

them to be as thoroughly interested in their parishioners as
he was in them, and this in a broad sense. He wished them
to be ready to make use of all opportunities of healthy
intercourse with people of all classes and all creeds or no
creeds. At the same time he gave great encouragement to
their specially spiritual work, whatever form it might take.
He was very urgent with them as to the importance of
promptness and care in all matters of business, and impressed
upon them the importance of seeing what was the principle
involved in any particular piece of business, so as to avoid
worrying about details. Those who were called upon in
some degree to share his responsibility by holding some
subordinate office felt in an increased degree the same sense
of a kindly and yet penetrating influence, impressing upon
them the need of prompt decision and action and the
avoidance of mere formality and conventionality. He gave
his confidence generously, and he expected a man serving
under him to use his own judgment and act accordingly.
He was quite frank and candid both in judgment and advice,
and was a thorough friend to all who worked with him, so
that he called out a spirit of real loyalty quite consistent with
occasional honest differences of opinion.’

He met his clergy as an equal, and never wished to impose
his views upon them:

To the Rev. Canon Watson ‘July 1, 1894.

‘I thought that our meeting was very useful. I think
that the fact of its informality contributed to that result. It
is most useful for me to know what people think, and what
objects are most worth pressing. I have no hope of suc-
ceeding in anything in which I cannot count on the hearty
co-operation of the Rural Deans, not only hearty, but
convinced.’

To the Rev. Canon Stocks (in answer to some objections to his Con-
firmation arrangements)

* October 20, 1894.

‘I am never wedded to my own ideas, but I will not
change from respect to mere conservatism. I will discuss
the point with you.’

* October 4, 1895.

‘J am not an obstinate person. I do not want to have my
own way even when I am sure that it is right. You shall
have the nine parochial centres and I will solace myself with

RELATIONS WITH CLERGY 43

thinking that if I set an example of obedience against my
own judgment, it may be followed in turn,’

But he never hesitated to speak his opinion plainly, even
when he did not wish to enforce it. When a certain dio-
cesan board procured the resignation of an official against his
desire he wrote :

‘You must discuss the position fully, and if your board
thinks fit you must pass a resolution asking me to terminate
his tenure of office, and then we must proceed to elect a much
worse man, who will do what the clergy tell him. ... I can
only stand outside and do what I am told, which is the
function of a Bishop in his own diocese.’

He wished to be a real friend to his clergy, and recognised
with glad generosity the help they gave him :

To the Rev. E. Grose Hodge — « Peterborough: February, 5, 1894.

‘J shall part with you with very great regret ; and it cost
me much to counsel you to go: but I thought that you ought
not to refuse. We are only secure when we commit ourselves
unreservedly to God’s will and accept responsibilities which
are not of our own seeking. Your loss is to me a serious one
both personally and officially. I owe much to your constant
kindness and unfailing loyalty. Your support made my
work in Leicester comparatively easy, and I shall always
remember that it was at your house that I first made the
acquaintance of many whose co-operation has been most
valuable. . . . I hope that our personal friendship will remain
unbroken.’

To the Rev. A. O. James ‘July 12, 1894.

‘Your letter causes me great regret. I know the difficulties
that beset your parish, but I trusted that you had overcome
the worst of them. I remember talking once with Bishop
Whipple about his work among the Indians. He told me
that for eight years he saw no signs of making any impression,
then suddenly they began to gather round him. Is not that
a parable of the way in which God works? Can we not find
parallels in some facts of our own spiritual life? But the
state of your health is a serious consideration, and though I
might exhort you to stand against outward discouragement,
I could not ask you to go on with work which seriously
affected your health. . . . You will know that you have my
fullest sympathy in every way.’

44 EPISCOPAL ADMINISTRATION

‘ January 22, 1895.

‘I agree with you in not liking any question involving an
individual clergyman from the point of view of “claims.” So
I will tell you exactly what I think. I regard you as one of
the best clergy in my diocese; and in the interest of the
Church generally it is desirable that your gifts should be
employed in the sphere where they are the most useful. As
a matter of fact, it is easier to find a man who can do the
work of a parish like All Saints than to find a man who can
do the more individual work of a large country parish. If
you find, after a trial, that the latter work is what you can do
best, it is clearly desirable that you should do it.’

He tried to help his clergy in all their difficulties :

To " * December 26, 1892.

‘It has struck me that your expenses at at first may
have been considerable, and that rents may be irregular. I
therefore venture to send you a small donation from a fund
at my disposal, which may perhaps help to tide over
difficulties at first.’

‘October 19, 1893.

‘I have been able to receive a grant of 10/. to enable a
clergyman to have a holiday. You need one: take it: and
I hope the weather may continue.’

One of his clergy writes :

‘I have wanted to write to you to say what a wonderful
Bishop he was to me. . .. He was so great, but never too
great but what he was ready to listen to my comparatively
trifling troubles. I would not wish obviously that my
name should be published in connexion with the enormous
kindness he did me. I was in very great financial difficulties.
He arranged with a bank, giving his name as a security, to
find me money to tide over my difficulties. It was wonderful
the way he did it, and for one who had no claims upon him.
I wish this could be mentioned in his Zz/e. He literally saved
me, and enabled me to retain my position. All the world
knew his intellectual power and his greatness as a Bishop,
but I am thankful to have been amongst those who were
privileged to know his tender sympathy and true-heartedness.’

The question of how to relieve the poverty of the clergy
was constantly before the Bishop’s mind. He believed that
the only really satisfactory plan was to aim steadily and
constantly at the augmentation of small livings, by adding

THE POVERTY OF THE CLERGY 45

to their endowment in accordance with the scheme laid down
by the Ecclesiastical Commissioners. But to meet the pressing
needs of the moment the Diocesan Conference of 1893
decided to create a Diocesan Sustentation Fund, and the
Bishop promised himself to give 200/. a year to it for five
years.

To the Rev. Canon Watson ‘October 1, 1893.

‘I do not wish either to raise false expectations or to
appeal in the first instance to the clergy to help their brethren.
My own wish is that the new fund should be administered
on the lines laid down by Heygate and yourself—z.e. that it
should aim at some permanent result. I want it to be
strictly supplementary to the augmentation of poor benefices,
proceeding on the same lines but allowing greater latitude.
. . . | wish in every case where possible to make grants from
the fund bear some relation to local effort. Nor do I wish
to receive applications, but would prefer to proceed on the
recommendations of the Rural Deans. They would take
cases in hand and stir up patrons and churchwardens to
begin. When they came with a proposal we could meet it.
. . . I want to put doles out of court to a great extent.’

‘October 20, 1893.

‘(1) Let us keep the words of the resolution : the grants
are to “impoverished denefices” not incumbents.

‘(2) I propose to act on actual knowledge, with reference
to population and poverty, and stir up a parish to do some-
thing. Then when the fund comes to an end, the local
something May remain.’

He was quick to recognise any local effort :

To Mr. T. King Smith

‘I would like to express to you my satisfaction at the
prompt and generous way in which the parishioners of Raunds
have received my suggestion that better provision should be
made for the vicar. It is very pleasant to me to find such an
example of loyalty, and readiness to recognise the obligations
which the changing conditions of the present day bring
before some parishes.

‘The church was endowed in the past by voluntary con-
tributions. When these are now insufficient, the fact has
only to be faced, and there is willingness to provide. I feel
sure that Mr. Oldroyd will be drawn more closely to his people
by this mark of their goodwill.’

46 EPISCOPAL ADMINISTRATION

He was disappointed by the small response made by the
appeal for the Clergy Sustentation Fund. He always felt
that it ought to be taken in hand vigorously by the laity, and
that it was impossible for the clergy to plead for their own
order.

The question of the support of voluntary schools was of
course constantly before him. He was convinced of the
necessity of maintaining them. ‘Only by the continuance
of voluntary schools,’ he said, ‘can religious education be
secured.’ He illustrated his objection to a system of secular
education from the State, supplemented by religious teaching
from the various Christian bodies by a parallel : ‘ The method
of dichotomy has always an appearance of simple justice ;
but the proposal of Solomon to apply it to a living organism
revealed the true parent. Doubtless her preference for unity
partook of the nature of obstruction.’' It seemed to him
impossible that undenominational religious teaching should be
satisfactory. He compared the supposed undenominational
man with the ideal economic man created by a past genera-
tion of thinkers. ‘When a religious difficulty cropped
up about education, legislation cautiously and tentatively
proceeded to invent another ideal being, “the undenomina-
tional man.” He was constructed on the same principles as
the economic man. . . . The undenominational man had for
his subject matter religion, and therefore could not be
entirely inhuman, but he was obtained by cutting out of his
opinions everything which anyone else objected to.’? Yet
he was always glad to recognise how good the religious
teaching in the Board schools often was.

To the Rev. S. W. Wigg ‘December 2, 1893.
‘There is only one sentence in your pamphlet which |
think doubtful. ... “I do not think it well to discourage

Board school teachers as though their work [in teaching
religion] was necessarily useless. Nor do I think your
dilemma, a fair one; as you roll together your conception of
the obligation of a Board School teacher and the consequent
result of his work. What happens isthis. A strong Church-

1 Primary Charge. Zhe Church and the Nation, p. 68.
2 Peterborough Diocesan Conference, 1895. Zhe Church and the Nation,

P- 133+

VOLUNTARY SCHOOLS 47

man is told to give undenominational teaching ; but he can
only teach as things appear to him. So far as he teaches, he
teaches earnestly and well: but some things which he would
wish to teach, he is forbidden to teach; this does not make
his work dishonest to himself, nor useless to those he
teaches.

‘I only suggest some such sentence as this, as being fairer.
“Undenominational teaching can, strictly speaking, only be
given by one who belongs to no denomination; however it
is given, it implies abstinence on the part of the teacher from
showing how religious truth comes home to his own heart.”
I dare say you can amend this.’

He was most anxious that no voluntary school should
be given up unless it were absolutely necessary :

To the Rev. A. E. Oldroyd ‘ May 8, 1893.

‘Your question is difficult. I see that a Board is inevitable,
My general advice in such cases is ‘keep the Church school,
if possible, for a smaller number of children, ze. let the Board
do the main work, and make the Church school a select
school. Can you keep it going for, say, 150 children? .. . I
can only suggest to you to consider the possibility of financing
a smaller school on a Church basis,” ’

In this case the school was ultimately enlarged by voluntary
effort, and a Board avoided. The same was done at Market
Harborough, where the Bishop encouraged the people to
make the necessary effort to rebuild their schools. He
strongly advised the formation of funds to help endangered
schools.

To the Rev. Canon Stocks ‘July 2, 1892.

‘I am glad to hear that an effort is being made in
Leicester to raise a small fund which may be applied to the
general maintenance of the Church schoolsin Leicester. The
knowledge that local effort can be supplemented by help
from a central source will be a most valuable encouragement
to such schools as may have to face special difficulties or meet
sudden demands.’

To the Rev. S. W. Wigg ‘ April 28, 1894.

‘There is no central organisation in Northampton, dealing
with cases of endangered schools in the same way as does the
Leicester Board. I wish you could do something towards
emphasising the need of helping, by advice at all events, in

48 EPISCOPAL ADMINISTRATION

every case. Really schools are maintained very often by a
little heartening from outside.’

He considered the struggle to maintain the voluntary
schools as a fight for liberty. He said ‘Surely true liberty
consists in everyone having his own way so far as is com-
patible with the well-being of society asa whole. . . . Weare
not engaged in a hopeless struggle against a system which
satisfies everybody except ourselves. On the contrary, we
are maintaining a principle which makes for a larger con-
ception of individual liberty than that which at present
prevails.’ }

His own view as to the way in which the religious difficulty
might be met is expressed in the following letter :

To Viscount Halifax ‘ Peterborough : December 18, 1894.

‘The point about education schemes is not, whether or no
we personally like them, but whether or no they have the best
chance of being carried.

‘Now I think the first requisite in politics is to have a cry.
The cry which was raised in 1870 was “No children to be
taught out of public money, except what the public approves.”
This has led to the endeavour to discover a common
residuum, which really satishes no one. But a great many
people are obliged to profess that it is excellent because they
see no way out.

‘The only way out is to raise another cry, “ All children
to be taught the religion, or no religion, which their parents
wish.” This principle underlies your scheme, but is not
stated with sufficient clearness to be catching. The scheme
is too complicated, too like an attempt to get public money for
voluntary schools without our equivalent.

‘No scheme has a chance of being considered which is not
a final settlement, or which merely aims at bolstering up
voluntary schools against board schools. Your scheme is
open to the second objection, and also to the first.

‘I have my own view—who has not? Mine is contained
in two provisions.

‘(1) All efficient schools to be maintained out of the
rates.

‘(2) All managers to supply the religious teaching asked
for by the parent, who shall fill up a paper, on sending his
child to school.

1 Primary Charge; published in 7he Church and the Nation, pp. 70, 71.

RELIGIOUS EDUCATION 49

‘If the parental responsibility were recognised as the deter-
mining element in this matter, all the rest would follow.
These are very crude opinions. We must give the Noncon-
formists a chance of a fresh start. This in politics is most
desirable. No cry is ever dropped. You must substitute
another which goes farther. You will rally no party in favour
of saving voluntary schools as such. The Nonconformists
are bound for consistency’s sake—that fatal incubus in politics
—to protest that they love the existing system. You can
only cut the ground from under them by starting a new
principle. Get the idea into people’s heads that you are
offering them permissive instead of prohibitive power, and
they will possibly listen. Tell them “ At present you are
allowed to say what other people’s children shall not be taught ;
we wish you to say what your own shall be taught.” Then
you have popular control in an admissible form, and all
dangerous questions are avoided. You recognise the parents’
perfect liberty and provide for it. What more is requisite ?

‘Forgive the length of my remarks. But I wish we
could all agree: at present our fertility is our bane. Some
one once remarked that every invention which was useless for
its original purpose could be used for making coffee.’

He wished toimprove the quality of the religious teaching
in the Church schools, and was not altogether satisfied with
the mode of diocesan inspection of religious teaching :

To Bishop Mitchinson ‘May 20, 1895.

‘This raises the whole question of the nature of diocesan
inspection. My own opinion generally is, that it has followed
too closely the example of H.M. Inspectors and aims at the
wrong end. It formalises and secularises what ought to be
free and religious. The charge against after all came
to this, that he paid more attention to religion than to the
kings of Israel. I know that he regarded religion perhaps
too exclusively from its application to the soul in the
sacraments ... but he was on the right track. The mechanical
system, however, has laid hold of the clergy, partly because it
relieves them of responsibility. They say “Scripture know-
ledge is best taught by the master”; but I want them to
teach religion. ... How I am to get these ideas into the
mind of the clergy, I do not know.’

Keenly conscious of the good work that might be done
for the Church by laymen, the Bishop tried to help the Lay
Readers to make their Association more effective :

VOL. II. E

50 EPISCOPAL ADMINISTRATION

To the Rev. Canon Stocks ‘ April 12, 1892.

‘All points are dependent on the vitality of the system.
If the lay readers already existing will organise themselves
and show a desire for work, they will become a powerful
body. But no organisation from above can create; it can
only regulate and improve what exists.’

Above all, he tried to encourage his clergy to read and
think. He organised courses of lectures for them in Leicester
and Northampton on theology, Church history, and on social
and economic questions. Cambridge professors and other
students gave these lectures at his request, and lists of books
to be studied were printed in the Diocesan Calendar.

He was equally desirous to,deepen the spiritual life of his
clergy, and in 1893 arranged for a clerical retreat to be held
at Peterborough. In the letter of invitation he said: ‘The
object is to provide the means for quiet meditation on the
duties of our high calling, and on our own deficiencies. . . .
The time will be spent in entire quietness, so as to enable us
to withdraw from the anxieties of daily life, and encourage us
to meditate upon God and our souls.’ Between seventy and
eighty clergy attended the first retreat, which was conducted
by Canon Newbolt. The Bishop himself undertook the
reading aloud at meals. After this the retreat became an
annual institution.

On first coming into the diocese, the Bishop was naturally
beset with requests to do things of every kind and sort.
‘Please form a society for the protection of the new Bishop as
soon as possible,’ he wrote. He accepted all requests to open
churches, ‘ believing that if a man could restore his church he
deserved recognition.’ He presided at the meetings of many
societies ; but soon felt that he must learn how to refuse
requests, though to say no was always difficult to him.

To the Rev. Canon Stocks ‘ August 1, 1892.

‘I cannot possibly preside at all the meetings of all
societies. I did so at first, but you must try and repress
continuous applications.’

Some things he would never do:

To the Rev. ‘December 24, 1894.
‘I am very glad that an attempt is to be made to free you
from your difficulties, It has my warm sympathy, and I shall

DIOCESAN SOCIETIES 51

be glad to express my approval in any way that you think
proper. But I havea strict rule never to act as patron nor
Mrs. Creighton as patroness of a Bazaar. The reason is
obvious. There are so many for so many purposes, that if
I accept any responsibility for them, the task would be over-
whelming, and any principle of selection would create
dissatisfaction. I could not give my name to all bazaars,
I could not investigate them, I could not decide which were
worthy of my support. I am therefore obliged to stand aloof
from all, You will see that this is necessary. I can approve
some objects, and I will gladly signify my approval in your
case. But the particular method of a bazaar must stand on
its own basis.’

The work of Missions always lay near his heart and the
fact that the first Bishop of Mashonaland, Dr. Knight Bruce,
was a former Merton pupil of his, led to his being the first
president of the Mashonaland Missionary Association, in which ~
he always took much interest. He was not a total abstainer,
but was glad to help the temperance cause in every way in
his power. Mr. Grose Hodge says :

‘It is perhaps due to his wide grasp of the Church’s work
as a whole that he was never absorbed in any one section
of it. He could always see the other side. We could never
make him an enthusiast in temperance work, though he
recognised and spoke with admiration of the enthusiasm it
kindled in others. The Diocesan Society flourished, and
every Officer of it felt that he had behind him in his Bishop
one who knew the work he was doing, and who trusted him
to do it, and would give most kindly and wise direction when-
ever he sought it.’

His speaking at temperance meetings won the approval
even of such an enthusiast as Dr. Temple. His support and
interest facilitated the carrying out of the scheme for founding
a Diocesan Home for Fallen Women under the care of the
Wantage Sisters, in the quiet village of Ketton. He cherished
a hope of instituting an order of deaconesses in his diocese, but
found the time not ripe, as the clergy did not seem to him
sufficiently alive to the need for the work of highly trained
women. He hoped that the day would come, but he was
not given time to make the beginning.

The large schemes for diocesan work did not keep him

E2

52 EPISCOPAL ADMINISTRATION

from attention to details. He was a great stickler for
verbal accuracy in anything written, and he was very par-
ticular as to the exact wording of any forms or notices.

To Canon Watson ‘October 16, 1893.

‘.. . By all means print the Thanksgiving Collects with
my authorisation. Only the expression “Collect for the
day” is not accurate. Inthe days when Rubrics were drawn,
people spoke grammar and talked sense. The Collect is
of the day, and is followed by a prayer for grace. But no
man ought to pray for the 25th Sunday after Trinity. It
would be a gross piece of superstition.’

To the Rev. S. W. Wige

‘It is well not to travel into*controverted questions more
than is strictly necessary. . . . On page 10 I suggest for “an
act of folly,” a breach of diocesan duty.’

In the interests of accuracy he revised the brief historical
chronicle at the beginning of the Diocesan Calendar.

To the Rev. Canon Watson ‘September 5, 1891.

‘I have made a few changes in the earlier part of the
Chronicle, revising it in the light of recent work, and striking
out things doubtful.

‘St. Alban is so mythical and the date so hard to assign,
that I think he can scarcely be made into a historical character.
By inserting Aidan as parallel to Augustine, it is made clear
that Christianity came into England from the north as well
as the south, from Ireland as much as Rome.

‘Alfred did not divide the kingdom into counties ; this is
a pure legend.

‘October 30, 1891.

‘In the Chronicle I would not put the names of the
British Bishops who are recorded as attending the Council of
Arles. I cannot think they are genuine. ... I am of opinion
that discreet silence concerning them is best.’

‘January 5, 1892.

‘My objection was to the insertion of names which are of
doubtful identification into a short record of Church history.
When the whole thing is done in two pages, the insertion of
three names which require a commentary is disproportionate
to the length of the sketch. . . . I always object to put in a
brief sketch as an assured fact that which is only conjecture.
Let us stick to assured facts.’

DEALINGS WITH CLERGY 53

Nothing that concerned the welfare of his clergy was too
small for his attention. If he received any communication
or complaint from a parishioner, it was his practice to refer it
to the incumbent in the first instance. When twenty-eight
parishioners in a country village petitioned him against the
hymn-book used in their church, he wrote to inform the
incumbent of the fact, and added :

‘I need not say that the choice of a hymn-book rests with
the incumbent: but the discretion of the incumbent is limited
by the wishes of the people. I have no wish to offer you any
advice on the question itself: but it is well to meet the desires
of the people as far as possible. . . . 1 must answer the repre-
sentation in some form, and you must decide what that form
is to be.’

Nothing caused the Bishop such deep pain as the know-
ledge of real evildoing on the part of any of his clergy.
The thought of such cases, where often he could do nothing,
used to haunt him. He tried to deal with them privately,
and to trust to the force of his own exhortation rather than
to the law. His Chancellor writes:

‘Cases of scandal and immorality he managed without
public litigation. In such cases, as in everything else, he was
eminently practical. On one occasion there was a serious and
apparently well-supported accusation made against one of
hisclergy. The Bishop, however, thought it right before taking
proceedings to send down the deputy registrar to investigate
the matter. This investigation resulted in the collapse of the
whole thing, and the Bishop did not fail to do public justice
to the incriminated clergyman.’

On another occasion the Bishop wrote to his Chancellor :
* March 12, 1892.

‘] had before me a case of a criminous clerk, which pre-
sented many legal difficulties. I acted upon my ecclesiastical
conception of my office, and asked him to come and see me
this morning as his Bishop. This was a step involving many
difficulties, and I was anxious for a talk with you last night
that 1 might have your advice how the interview might best
be conducted without prejudice either to my future position
as judge, or to the position of the accused. ... But the
matter is settled. The man came in response to my original
call, and submitted himself entirely to me as his Father in

54 EPISCOPAL ADMINISTRATION

God. I had taken the precaution to have a deed of resigna-
tion in my pocket ; he signed it on the spot.

‘I cannot tell you how thankful lam. IfIcan pull through
all my cases in that way—but that is too much to expect.’

Fortunately he was never driven to a prosecution. But
the exertion of his personal power, or his authority as a
Bishop in such dealings with criminous clergy, tried him to
the very depths of his heart. A man of his tender sympathy,
combined with so stern a sense of justice, could not see a
fellow-creature, above all a brother priest, abased before him
without painful emotion.

His predecessor’s chancellor had resigned, and on coming
into his office the Bishop had at once to appoint a new
chancellor. After careful inquiry, he offered the post to Mr.
G. H. Blakesley :

* April 20, 1891.

‘Dear Mr. Blakesley,—I should like to say one or two
things. First, my reason for hoping that you would accept
the post of chancellor was entirely founded on a desire to
secure the services of the best man I could discover by such
enquiries as I was able to make. Regarding all such appoint-
ments as trusts, I can only say that I have in your case acted
to the best of my ability on public grounds.

‘Next let me express my hope that our relationship may
rest on personal friendship and not stay on mere official and
formal lines.’

Mr. Blakesley considers that the Bishop’s ‘ power in the
diocese’ depended not so much on his official position as on the
personal influence exercised by his character. ‘ An unclouded
intellectual fairness seemed to disarm prejudice. He would
not meet a proposition with the opposite proposition but with
a reason, probably in the form of a question addressed to
one’s reasoning powers. He would force a man to pay
attention to his reasoning powers; and in attending to that,
the man would forget to keep his passion boiling. He could
get things done. He instituted a plan of diocesan trustees,
which has since served as a model for other dioceses.’

To Mr. G. H. Blakesley ‘September 14, 1892.

‘There is a long-standing committeeabout Diocesan Trusts.
I told them they positively must have a scheme ready for our

RITUAL DIFFICULTIES 55

meeting, and in such a shape that it could be acted upon.
This stirred them up, and I have heard from time to time of
their progress. But I have not yet seen the scheme nor your
opinion. . . . I am further enquiring into the titles of all the
school buildings in the Diocese, and shall find ample scope
for the activity of the Trustees as soon as they come into
existence.’

Whilst at Peterborough the Bishop was little troubled
with ritual difficulties. At the Cathedral he fell in with the
wishes of the Chapter in introducing the Eastward position.
This had always been his habit, but he never wished to offend
others. Mr. Blakesley says:

‘It is hardly necessary to mention his natural and un-
affected good feeling in dealing with people. I remember
that in the course of his visitation he came toa place where
the clergyman, a very charming old gentleman, had kept up
the practice of consecrating on the north side. I do not
know whether the Bishop had any notice of this beforehand,
but, at all events, just before the service he asked this clergy-
man what was his practice; and upon that information took
care to follow the same practice in conducting the service.
Afterwards I heard the clergyman thanking the Bishop most
warmly ; and the Bishop, though extremely pleased at the
old man’s appreciation of the consideration shown him, was
rather surprised that he should make so much of it.’

It of course sometimes happened that he had to try to
make peace between an incumbent and his people. One
of the most difficult cases of this kind led to a discon-
tented parishioner finally resorting to the painful irreverence
of sending the Bishop by post a consecrated wafer, which he
had received at Holy Communion. The Bishop at once
wrote to the incumbent in question :

‘I again ask you to submit to my judgment in the matter
and to use some form of bread which resembles that in
common use. Nothing need be said, and everyone would
feel grateful. The broad reason which I would put before
you is this. The symbolism contained in the material of the
Sacrament is the sanctification of our life, its needs and its
feelings. If the bread is not understood to be bread, the
meaning of the Sacrament is obscured. Your people do not
understand what you use to be bread : they have a physical
repugnance to its consumption as such. The matter is too

56 EPISCOPAL ADMINISTRATION

serious for a trial of perseverance between you and them.
I ask you on this point to give way.’

The incumbent answered ‘that if the Bishop would com-
mand him to make this change and authorise him to state as
much from the pulpit, he would not venture to disobey ;
adding ‘that he thought this was a matter within the discre-
tion of the Ordinary.’

To this the Bishop, who had already been much troubled
by the discord in this particular parish, answered, with con-
siderable sternness :

‘I consider that the relationship of a bishop to his clergy
is paternal and hortatory. I, never have recourse to my
authority as Ordinary unless I am appealed to in that capacity.
No good purpose would be served by my giving you an order
which you took as the text for a sermon.

‘I am totally unable to follow your arguments. They
are excellent as abstract propositions, but seem to me to have
no relation to the actual condition of affairs in the parish
of .

‘It is, however, useless for me to continue to discuss
matters with you. I can only say that I cannot agree with
your assertion of clerical autocracy at all costs; that I con-
sider your attitude as self-willed and lacking in that sym-
pathy with your people which is part of the clerical office,
indeed a very large part; that you seem to me to forget
your duty “to maintain and set forward as much as lieth in
you, quietness, peace, and love, among all Christian people,
and especially among them that are committed to your
charge.”

‘I can only answer any letters which I may receive from
your parishioners by saying that I have tendered my advice,
and that it has been refused.

‘I am very sorry to be obliged to write to any of my
clergy, especially to one whose zeal and good intentions I
admire, in this manner,’

The incumbent was deeply wounded by the Bishop’s
letter, which he considered unjust. At the same time he ex-
pressed his regret that he had used such a word as‘ Ordinary’
in a loose and popular sense, and assured the Bishop that he
had no desire to claim excessive independence. To this the
Bishop answered :

RITUAL DIFFICULTIES 57

‘Your letter begins by accusing me of injustice and ends
by saying that you are not surprised that your language
conveyed to me an erroneous impression.

‘The facts are that I have twice made a request to you,
and you have twice refused to comply with it. In your
second refusal you seemed to me to challenge me to give
you a formal command, and you implied that, if you obeyed,
you reserved your right to criticise it publicly.

‘My opinion is that in the present condition of
parish the use of wafer bread is undesirable and should be
discontinued.

‘If you think it better to inform your people that you
discontinue its use at my request, I have no objection. If
that were the meaning of your letter, I am sorry that I mis-
understood it.

‘My conception of the Episcopal Office is that of a
friendly and paternal relationship with my clergy. I do not
wish to tender advice, or to interfere with their discretion,
without strong reason, and a sense of responsibility. If any
one of them refuses my advice and appeals to my authority,
it is a breach of my friendly and paternal relationship which
cannot be restored.

‘If your meaning was that you wished for my permission
to state that I was responsible for advising you to discontinue
a certain use which you had adopted, and that you followed
my advice, I am quite willing that you should do so. But it
must remain a matter of advice, not of command. We are
still working together, though you may feel some reluctance.’

The Bishop’s advice was followed; and a little while
afterwards the incumbent wrote to tell him that the conse-
quences which he had feared might result had not ensued, but
that, on the contrary, he had observed a certain softening of
asperity insome quarters. When some time later this clergy-
man left the diocese the Bishop wrote to express his regret
at his departure, adding: ‘I am sorry that on points of
practical wisdom you did not always agree with me; but
that did not affect my respect for your qualities and my
sympathy with your objects. And the clergyman, looking
back on the past, says: ‘He and I differed sharply about
the way of treating certain people. I can see now that
he was at least sometimes right and I was wrong; but still
I think he made some mistakes. I was very angry at the

58 EPISCOPAL ADMINISTRATION

time, much more angry than I had any right to be, and he
treated me with unfailing kindness,’

The Bishop had a great deal of patronage in his hands,
but it was for the most part very poor. He was clear that
it was his duty to attend first to the claims of his own clergy,
and he valued lay patronage because it brought new blood
into a diocese. It was grievous to him to have to ask men to
undertake hard posts without adequate remuneration.

To the Rev. Canon Stocks ‘December 17, 1891.

‘Do you know of anyone with a missionary spirit who
would like a benefice of 500 people which is only worth 8o0/.
a year without a house? It is dreadful to have to ask such
a question.’ i

Even such appointments were not made without the
utmost possible care. ‘ However poor a benefice may be,’ he
wrote, ‘I could not offer it to a man who was not, so far as
I could judge, well fitted for it.’

The diocese soon experienced the advantage of the
Bishop’s business capacity. He was a first-rate chairman,
always absolutely just, never taking up the time of a meeting
himself or trying to force his views upon it; but ever
ready to find a way out of a difficulty, to clear up the
point at issue, or show the real bearing of the question under
discussion. His care in the use of words made him skilful
in the framing of rules or resolutions. His unvarying good-
temper enabled him to keepa meeting cheerful and to enliven
it by an occasional joke. He neither allowed time to be
wasted in needless discussion, nor did he drive the business
through so quickly as to give the impression that the only
thing he wanted was to get it over. What men felt was that
he wished the right thing to be done. If his way differed
from theirs, he did not want them to take it because it was his
way.

Archdeacon Lightfoot writes : ‘ His clear grasp of business,
wonderful memory, and readiness to listen to current diocesan
matters often impressed me. In clerical discussions he was
able to dismiss with great decision, and with no trace what-
ever of acerbity, subjects brought forward for discussion
which he thought it undesirable to consider. He could keep

DIOCESAN ORGANISATION 59

discussions close to the point and control meetings in a re-
markably easy manner.’ He bore no malice on account of
opposition and frequently gave way to it when he thought
the point in question was not important enough to justify a
struggle, although his own opinion remained unaltered,’

Shortly after his coming the regulations for both the
Diocesan and Ruri-decanal Conferences were revised. All
his suggestions were in the direction of greater freedom.
Elections were to be by ballot, speakers who were not
members of the Conference might be invited for any particular
discussion. Hedid not wish, as had been the custom, himself
to suggest the subjects for discussion,

To Bishop Mitchinson ‘March 7, 1892.
‘Your suggestion about Ruri-decanal Conferences exactly
fits with mine own opinion. There are no questions on
which I want the opinion of my diocese: but I should like to
know what amount of vitality the Conferences possess, and I
think they ought to have powers of initiative. I should learn
more at present certainly from knowing what they think
important, than from consulting them on any fixed points.’

In the general work of the Diocese, he had the assistance
of Dr. Thicknesse, Bishop of Leicester, as his Suffragan, and
of Bishop Mitchinson, then rector of Sibstone, as Assistant
Bishop. He was always ready to consult them as well as
his Archdeacons and Rural Deans on all matters of import-
ance, and treated all those who worked with him with the
most absolute confidence and frankness.

He kept no domestic chaplain. Mr. G. J. Gray! helped
him as private secretary for an hour or so every day. All
letters of importance he answered himself; he was a very
quick and terse letter writer, and got through his cor-
respondence with much rapidity. He had no rules of order
or method for himself, and never kept his letters or papers on
any apparent system, nor did he like that others should arrange
them for him. Yet somehow business was always promptly
attended to, important and often unimportant letters were at
once answered. Papers were not mislaid, and in the midst of

* Mr. Gray was then head clerk in the Chapter Clerk’s Office. He has since

been appointed Chapter Clerk. The Bishop found his services at all times most
valuable.

50 EPISCOPAL ADMINISTRATION

the apparent disorder of his study tables, he generally knew
how to find what he wanted. Only sometimes he would
come in despair to ask me to find a book or paper which
he had mislaid. But it was useless to attempt to get him
to submit to have his papers kept with any system. He
hated having anything thrown away; and it seemed to
cause him real agony when at the beginning of the year I
persuaded him to allow me to sort his baskets full of pamphlets
and papers of all kinds. It was a wrench to give up even
what seemed quite useless to the waste-paper basket ; and it
was only for a short while at a time that he could bear the
misery of sorting or arranging. Yet he did not store useless
masses of letters, and used, at,the cost of great effort, to go
through at the beginning of each year the correspondence of
the last, and allow what he wished kept to be sorted and
filed. His methods were a curious mixture of disorder and
order. In the ordinary living rooms of the house and in the
garden he noted the smallest piece of disorder and was
insistent to have it remedied, but he did not mind what others
would have considered disorder in his own study. He was
very particular in his use of books, and could not bear to see
any of his books carelessly handled ; sometimes it seemed as if
he hardly liked them to be even read. He valued a book as
a book, and though trash of all kinds, first books of poems,
sermons &c. were sent him, he would seldom allow any book
to be destroyed, and a place for everything had to be found
on his shelves. He would say, ‘You can never tell what
may not turn out to be useful, but when a thing is once
destroyed it can never be used.’

When he was at home at Peterborough he seldom did any
business in the evening. His working time was the morning,
and the hours between tea and dinner at eight o’clock. He
always allowed himself to be interrupted by any one who
wished to see him. ‘He used to maintain,’ says Canon
Clayton, ‘that he was not really interrupted in his work by
suspensions of it. ‘I shall go on with what I am doing,’ he
once said, ‘the moment you leave, just as if you had not been
here at all.’

He gave the impression that he was ready to talk freely
and unguardedly with anybody about anybody ; and to invite

HABITS 61

expressions of opinion upon all sorts of questions, personal,
practical, or theoretical. People did not always realise that
this was his method of gaining information, and that he gave
much less than he got. In home life he talked little about
diocesan affairs, though he was always ready to tell what he
had done and whom he had seen, but he was utterly averse
to all gossip or unnecessary talk about what he considered
mere matters of business, and considered it much better that
his wife and family should be really ignorant of matters
which related purely to his official life; he preferred to talk
with them on other subjects. Some hasty observers may have
put him down as indiscreet, but those who knew him best,
knew how scrupulously discreet he really was. Of course
many stories got about with regard to his sayings and doings,
but he never troubled to contradict them, and after a while he
made a resolution to destroy all anonymous letters unread.
To aclergyman who had difficulties with his parishioners and
who wrote to ask him whether it was true as reported that
the Bishop had said “that it was a pity that Mr. was
upsetting his parish for the sake of one detail of ritual derived
from the Hereford use,’ he answered :

‘You really ought not to ask for explanation of reported
remarks which have no authority. But I do not mind saying
for this time only that I could not have made the remark you
quote, for I am ignorant of any Hereford ritual, and I do not
know why you are upsetting the work of parish,’

As was natural many difficult questions were asked him
by his clergy as to their procedure under exceptional cases.
The following letters will give an idea of his way of dealing
with some of these problems :

To the Rev. E. Grose Hodge * April 6, 1892.

‘Dear Hodge,—The question of the use of unfermented
beverage at the Holy Communion has, I believe, been dis-
cussed at the Lambeth Conference, and has been emphatically
negatived.

‘The grounds, I think, are mainly two: (1) the objection
to make any change in the elements which were used at the
institution.

‘(2) The nature of the symbolism involved in the
emblems chosen. Wine seems to symbolise the emotional

62 EPISCOPAL ADMINISTRATION

and passionate part of human nature, which must not be cast
out but be sanctified.

‘While, therefore, it is impossible to change a divine
ordinance, there still remains the question, can occasional
difficulties be met?

‘I think there are at least three ways in which difficulties
can be minimised, if not overcome.

‘(1) The wine used may be mixed with water, without
any ceremonial, by the simple expedient of half filling the
cup with water, before it is placed on the Credence or on the
Holy Table.

‘(2) In the case of those who think it unwise for them to
partake of wine, however diluted, I have no hesitation in
saying that they receive the full benefit of the Sacrament
if they partake only under oné kind. My practical advice
would be to any clergyman who was convinced that the
objection was well founded, that he should administer the
bread and give the cup into the hand, but be satisfied with a
symbolical action of drinking.

‘(3) It is possible, if there are objections to what I have
just said, for such persons to be present at Holy Communion
without communicating bodily, but with the desire to do so
by faith.

‘The rubric at the end of the “Communion of the Sick”
justifies this in the case of “any just impediment.”

‘All these suggestions are, I am aware, to some people
unpalatable, because they are connected in their mind with
ceremonies or with ideas with which they do not wish to
connect themselves. This is no doubt unfortunate; but
I think it is well to consider things in themselves, apart from
associations which are not necessarily relevant.

‘My point is, that these are modes by which scruples can
be met, without taking the very serious step of altering the
Institution of the Sacrament. I do not say that azy mode is
free from objections. But remember that the whole history
of medieval abuses shows the danger of departing a hair’s
breadth from Scriptural and primitive usage. All that turned
into abuse was at first successful and convenient, and met
some need. What-was done for practical utility became
a basis of speculative ingenuity. Think of the practical
difficulties which would attend on occastonal and exceptional
Celebration. How would you announce it? Would it not
form two parties? How far might it be extended? What
amount of scruple, or desire, or convenience would be
necessary to justify some other change?

CONFIRMATION 63

‘ Again I say the rite itself must remain unchanged ; but
it is possible, with reasonable latitude, for the individual to
find a means of adapting the universal rite to his particular
case. I have merely made suggestions; there may be other
modes which have not occurred to me.’

To the Rev. E. A. Knox (now Bishop of Manchester)

in answer to a question about admitting certain nonconformists to Com-
munion, who were unwilling to be confirmed lest they should seem to cast a slur
upon the status of communicants in nonconformist bodies with which they had
been long associated :

‘Peterborough : September 22, 1892.

‘My dear Knox,—. . . The question which you ask me
is a difficult one, and I have never had an opportunity of
discussing it with other bishops. When my advice has been
asked by any of my clergy, it has always been given on the
side of freedom. In the case which you submit, two un-
confirmed persons are admitted to Holy Communion; but
I gather that from time to time a hope is expressed that
they will be confirmed, so as to do away with an irregularity.
I presume that the irregularity arises in consequence of the
Rubric “None shall be admitted to the Holy Communion,
until such time as he be confirmed or be ready and desirous
to be confirmed.” The argument from this is that the process
contemplated by the Prayer Book is—Baptism, Confirmation,
Communion ; and the clergyman does not like to pass over
or omit one member of it.

‘The case so stated is a strong one. It can only be met
by pleading for an Azstorical interpretation of the Rubric, on
the ground that it was framed for normal cases and did not
contemplate the case of nonconformists. They were baptized
outside the Church of England, but their baptism is valid.
They went through instruction for the completion of their
baptism, and that completion of their spiritual maturity was
recognised by the officers of their own body ; but here rises
the vital question—can that recognition be regarded as valid,
7.e. as taking the place of Confirmation ?

‘The statement of the position which you lay before me
leads up to the answer, Yes. And ifthe clergyman in question
admitted the persons you mention to Communion without
raising some sort of protest, it would be because he also
answered, Yes. I think you will agree with me that this
would be a great responsibility for any individual to under-
take. The position of the Church of England in maintaining
Apostolic usage as regards Confirmation is unique in
Christendom, and follows Scriptural precedent without ex-
plaining away anything. The Greek Church combines

64 EPISCOPAL ADMINISTRATION

Confirmation with Baptism. The Roman Church omits the
outward sign, there is no laying on of hands. The Church of
England without exalting Confirmation to a place which
it cannot claim, follows the primitive record strictly to the
letter.

‘I think that a clergyman is acting up to the spirit of the
Church of England if he practically says: “I cannot ex-
communicate you because you grew up in a system different
from my own. But I ambound to call your attention to that
system as a whole. Look at it altogether. If you enter it in
part, there are obvious advantages in entering upon all that
it can give.”

‘The advice which I have given in particular cases has
been founded on this view. The result has been in almost
every case that scruples have disappeared. I am willing
to confirm privately, even to adapt the questions in the Con-
firmation Service to the particular case. But I think it would
be difficult to lay down an equivalent to Confirmation in
other systems, or to dispense from it absolutely in some cases.

‘This is my position as an interpreter of the Prayer Book.
But I fully sympathise with the difficulties of your friends.
It is to be observed, however, that in their case, as I gather,
they have been admitted to Communion, without Confirma-
tion—so that subsequent Confirmation would not cast a slur
upon nonconforming Communion, nor admit the absolute
necessity of Confirmation as a condition precedent. It would
simply mean an acceptance of the whole system of the Church
of England ; and a belief that there was some value in a rite
which, though not founded by Christ Himself, was used by

the Apostles. ‘ Peterborough : September 24, 1892.

‘Dear Knox,—Let me supplement my last letter by one
or two remarks.

*(1) It would not naturally be the duty of a clergyman to
enquire into the qualifications of a communicant who was not
a parishioner. The fact that they presented themselves, and
that he had no reason for thinking them unworthy, would be
a sufficient justification for his administration. But the
position of the parish priest, who has full knowledge, is
different. He is bound to make up his mind about the mean-
ing of the rubric “ ready and desirous to be confirmed.”

‘(2) I, as bishop, on being asked my opinion about the
clergyman’s action, am bound to resolve myself into a judge.
I cannot, if he interprets that rubric literally, override his
interpretation and order him to administer. In the same
way, I can imagine some principles of interpretation which, if

CLERICAL PROBLEMS 65

laid before me, would be sufficient to enable me not to order
him to discontinue administering if he thought fit to do so.

‘(3) But this is purely judicial. Personally I see the
difficulties on both sides of those concerned. On both sides
there are conscientious scruples. I gather that the clergyman
has already surrendered some of his. He commits what he
believes to be an irregularity, but expresses a hope that it
may cease. By so doing he has removed some of the scruples
on the other side, and has raised the question, ‘Can his
sacrifice of strict logical principle be met by a charitable
concession ?’

‘(4) I have not entered upon the question of the value or
meaning of Confirmation in itself. It is enough to say that
any effort to draw nigh to God in a definite manner becomes
to the faithful heart all that the rite implies and even more.’

‘St. Giles’ Vicarage, Northampton: September 29, 1892.

‘Dear Knox,—I am very much obliged to you for
sending me Mrs. ’s letter, and I am very thankful that
anything I said has been of use in bringing about a result
which will help in promoting harmonious co-operation in our
Master’s service: I fully appreciate Mrs. ’s attitude, and
her sacrifice of some scruples to the cause of practical unity. . .
I need not say how grateful I am to you for helping towards
this result. I always feel that our differences come far more
from unchristian temper than from any other cause. In the
presence of our Lord they surely reduce themselves to small
proportions,’

In answer to a question about admitting to Communion a man who had
married his deceased wife’s sister :
* November 14, 1892.

‘The question which you refer to me about admitting to
Holy Communion persons not legally married is a serious
one. I have had some difficulty in deciding what answer to
give. But it seems to me that, so long as two persons
continue to live together unlawfully, it is impossible to treat
them as pious Christian people. If they pledge their word
that they do not cohabit, but only live under the same roof,
that alters the case. But so long as illicit cohabitation
continues, the offence continues.

‘It may be that there are extenuating circumstances.
You may explain that in refusing Communion you are not
judging. But the Christian community must be protected
from open scandal, and you are a guardian of that community.
Deprivation of Holy Communion is a loss of privilege, which

VOL. II. F

66 EPISCOPAL ADMINISTRATION

is forfeited so long as the offence remains. But deprivation
of Holy Communion does not cut off from Communion with
God. The Church is more merciful than society: God is
more merciful than the Church dares to be. In our desire to
approximate to what we hope may be God’s judgment, we
must not sacrifice the principles which God has commanded
His Church to enforce. I do not see how those who continue
to live in a state forbidden by the law of the Church and the
State alike can expect to do so without forfeiting some-
thing.’

About the admission of a Roman Priest into the Anglican Church :

‘January 5, 1893.

‘T liked what I saw of Mr. , but I did not gather that
his reasons for leaving the Roman Church went further than
a desire to be free from an excessive discipline, and I
suspected that this particularly pointed to matrimony. The
Romans always say that a priest only leaves them to get
married. This may be so, but it does not affect the question,
as marriage may well be a point round which a good many
considerations centre. I should be very glad if you would
make quiet enquiry about the opinion held of him in his own
body at I do not wish to make it easy for him to come
over.’

In answer to a question as to what aclergyman should do who had been asked
by a Presbyterian living in his parish, a small country village, to baptize his child,
with the stipulation that the child should not be brought into the English Church ;

‘ September 5, 1893.

‘The case which you bring before me does not seem to me
to fall under the Rubric, which was framed in view only of
members of our Church, and prescribes the normal proceeding
towards them.

‘You are not asked to officiate as a clergyman towards
members of your own Church: but you are asked to perform
a rite for those who are not under your spiritual jurisdiction,
to help them, in fact, in an emergency.

‘Such a matter is in your discretion. Baptism is a rite of
almost every religious body: it may be performed by a lay-
man in case of necessity. In this instance you are asked to
perform it, not as a Priest of the Church of England, but asa
minister of religion. It is something outside your official
duty and not governed by the same rules. Public baptism
involves both baptism and reception into the Church of England.
I do not see any reason why, in your capacity as a spiritual
person, you should not perform the first part privately, though

CLERICAL PROBLEMS 67

you are not requested to do the second publicly. It is in
itself important that a child should be baptized into Christ’s
Church ; and I should be inclined to baptize anyone who
applied, on grounds of Christian charity.’

In reply to a question how to deal with a Rechabite who refused to receive
the Chalice at Holy Communion :

‘February 1, 1894.

‘I think that it is entirely unreasonable, even partaking of
the nature of schism, for an individual to set himself up
against the custom of the universal Church. Further, such
a position shows an ignorance of the meaning of the
Sacrament of the Altar, in which the Bread symbolises the
sanctification of our body in all its necessary wants, and the
wine symbolises the sanctification of all our emotions and
imaginings. To refuse to communicate under both kinds is
to condemn as necessarily evil all the emotional and artistic
side of life. Is this what your man really and seriously
means ? |

‘At the same time there is no doubt that Communion
under one kind is complete; and I would not limit your
discretion if you thought fit to use it.

‘In former times a man who had a scruple recognised
that he was a “ weak brother:” there is just a chance now
that scrupulosity should be claimed as a sign of strength.

‘I should advise you that you told your patient, for I
must regard him as a moral invalid, to attend and make an
act of spiritual Communion without partaking. There is a
certain danger of promoting sectarianism by two modes of
administration. It would be a question for discussion which
was better and a controversy would not be edifying.’

In answer to a question about the conduct of burials during an epidemic of

small-pox :
‘ May 14, 1894.

‘The Rubric which says that the priest shall “go either
into the church or towards the grave” recognises a discre-
tionary power, which it would be wise to use in the case of
infection. It would seem that the direction “after they are
come into the church” specifies the use of the Psalm and
lesson only in cases when the church is entered. In the case
when you go direct to the grave, they are not obligatory, and
I do not suppose that many people would wish them to be
said in the open air. If they did, it might be well to consult
their wishes.’ See ok

¥F2

68 EPISCOPAL ADMINISTRATION

About a child baptized by a Roman Priest :
‘May 15, 1894.

‘It seems to me (1) that the baptism was of course valid,
and therefore cannot be repeated.

‘(2) The form of reception in the Prayer-book is “into
the congregation of Christ’s flock,” ie. zuto the universal
Church of Christ, which is apart from, and beyond, differences
such as exist between the Church of England and the Church
of Rome. There is no form of reception for a child into the
Church of England as such, and I do not think such a form is
necessary. I therefore cannot advise you to use the Prayer-
book form in this sense.

‘But, this is to be remembered. Baptism is into Christ’s
Church; zo¢ into the Roman branch of it. The fact that
the child has been baptized by 4 Roman priest establishes no
claim that it should be brought up according to Roman
teaching. Itis just as much a member of the Church of
England as of the Church of Rome; it is “a member of
Christ.” The father can decide with perfect freedom which
communion it is to belong to, and what tenets it is to be

taught.’

To the Rev. Canon Stocks ‘Peterborough: March 18, 1895.

‘] returned late on Saturday, better for my holiday, though
it was not a great success as regards weather. .. .

‘The marriage question is dreadfully difficult, and would
require a volume. I am sorry for the attitude recently taken
up by Luckock and others. It is not founded on sound know-
ledge. Speaking generally, the question raises in its ex-
tremist form the problem of the actual application to life of
the principles of the Gospel. We must remember—it cannot
be remembered too much—that the Gospel consists of
principles not of maxims. The only possible principle con-
cerning marriage is that it is indissoluble. But all principles
are set aside by sin: and our Lord recognised that as regards
marriage (the interpretation of vopveta as prenuptial un-
chastity will not do. Such aman as the Bishop of Lincoln
is against it on patristic grounds. It is untenable). I must
own myself to a strong indisposition to set the Church against
the State on such a point as the interpretation of the latitude
to be assigned to the permission of dissolution which our
Lord’s words imply. It has always been found difficult to
adjust law and equity. But is the Church on this point to
admit of no equity? The medieval system was a mass of
fictions or dispensations and subterfuges. The question has
always troubled the English Church. Cranmer, Andrewes,

MARRIAGE QUESTIONS 69

Laud, alike had no fixed principles. Now the State has
taken the matter into its hand and marriages are primarily
civil contracts. We as Christians abhor divorce: but when
a divorce has been judged necessary, are we to refuse any
liberty to the innocent and wronged party? It seems to me
a matter for our discretion on equitable grounds in each case.
I could not advise any of my clergy to refuse to solemnise a
marriage of an innocent person who genuinely desired God’s
blessing. I prefer to err on the side of charity.’

Writing to Archbishop Benson, he treats of the same subject :
‘Peterborough: October 22, 1895.

‘My dear Archbishop,—. . . . As I am writing on histori-
cal subjects, let me advise you, if you wish to laugh, to read a
review by Professor Maitland in the last number of the
“ Historical Review ” of Luckock’s “ Marriage.” It only deals
with a small point in medieval history, but is delightfully
funny.

‘On that terrible question of Marriage, Burnet says that
Cranmer wrote a “large book” on Northampton’s case, “ the
original of which I have perused.” If this could be found, it
would be most valuable. What people call “the law of the
Church” became unworkable when dispensations were cut off.
English Canonists then disappeared, and ecclesiastical lawyers
tried to work tentatively a system which they did not under-
stand. Cranmer must have come to some definite conclusions
and probably thought the matter out.’

About the use of the Athanasian Creed :
* December 31, 1895.
‘I have received a complaint that on Christmas day you
did not say the Creed of St. Athanasius in your church.
I can only call your attention to the fact that the Rubric
enjoins its use on certain Holy days and leaves no discretion
either to you or me.’!

’ At Embleton Dr. Creighton had never said the Athanasian Creed. He
considered it too difficult for his people, and nobody interfered to prevent him
doing as he liked. Probably he was altogether more individual then than he
would have been later, when experience had taught him more about the neces-
sity for order and submission to authority. For himself he valued the Creed and
I have often heard him defend it,

CHAPTER III

LIFE AT PETERBOROUGH

WHEN he became a bishop, Dr. Creighton knew that he must |
give up hope of much study or literary production, and he at
once resigned his editorship of the ‘ Historical Review.’

To Mr. R. L. Poole ‘Cambridge : February 25, 1891.

‘I should like your advice about the editorship of the
“ Historical Review.” My first thought has not come off... .
Now I think that, though you will be the motive power, it is
well to have a figure-head; a man who can say zo without
giving offence, who can resist pressure because he is removed
from it. My chief work has been in this sphere, and such
success as I have had, is due to the fact that I have managed
to keep a team together without giving much offence, and
have not seemed to favour any particular school. I have even
admitted drivel to secure breadth.’

To Mr. C. J. Longman © March 3, 1891.

*] have succeeded in persuading S. R. Gardiner to under-
take the supervision of the “ Historical Review.” This will do
excellently. Poole willdo the hard work willingly, but Gardiner
will direct.’

To Mr. R. L. Poole * April 6, 1891.
‘Do not alter the title of the Review : let me wear to the
last my only actual dignities . . . When I have ceased to be

editor, I should like just so much recognition as to be put on
the free list.’
‘April 13, 1891.

‘{ look with great regret on the severance of our con-
nexion, which has been very pleasant to me in every way.
We had a difficult job to do and we have done it somehow:
at all events we have something to show in the way of an
accomplished fact. It is improbable that I should ever do so
big a piece of work again with so little friction and with such

1891 LITERARY WORK 71

ready help. I can only thank you very sincerely for your
willingness to save me, and go beyond the bond, whenever I
imposed upon your good nature. I hope you will make use
of my Cambridge ladies for reviews.’

He always continued to be interested in the Review,
and wrote for it from time to time. He hoped still to go
on with the ‘History of the Papacy’ even if his pro-
gress must be very slow, and had brought with him from
Cambridge a new volume ‘within measurable distance of
completion,’ at which he worked whenever he could find a
moment. He also amused himself with continuing a series
of articles which he had begun for ‘ The Leisure Hour’ on the
English Shires. These articles were ‘ the result of impressions
produced by rambles in various parts of England, and their
object was to point out those local peculiarities of ‘life,
manners and customs, which year by year are growing less
strong, as people move about more freely,’ to try to see how
those local peculiarities arose, and to ‘ bring out the traces of
the independent life of the English shires.’ They show the
spirit in which he himself rambled about England, and made
the country which he saw tell him its story. They were
published in book form in 1897, but, as he stated in the preface,
increasing occupation had prevented him from finishing the
series. He added, ‘I still sometimes hope that I may succeed
in doing so,’ and one day at Fulham, in a spare half-hour, he
sat down and wrote the first page of a new article which was
never finished.

The alterations at the Palace were finished by the end
of 1891, and at Christmas time we entertained at supper the
fifty workmen who had been employed on them. The
Bishop thoroughly enjoyed an occasion of this kind. He
carved for the men, and talked to as many of them indi-
vidually as he could, and was present all through the evening
when his children entertained the company with music, and
the workmen also were persuaded to sing and recite. In
subsequent years we entertained in the same way the railway-
men, the postmen, and policemen, and the schoolmasters and
mistresses of Peterborough. A great many young people
always gathered at the Palace for Christmas, and any others
resident in the precincts were invited to join in our Christmas

52 LIFE AT PETERBOROUGH 1891

tree and games, or to come and dance in our hall in the
evenings. The Bishop, who had never danced except with
his choir at Embleton since he was an undergraduate, now
discovered how much he enjoyed dancing with his children.
Not only he, but other bishops and dignitaries of the Church
who stayed with us, used to take part with much vigour in
the games with the younger children after tea, or in the
dancing after dinner for the older ones which enlivened the
holidays. This first year we experienced for the only time
perfect fen-skating. The meadows round Peterborough were
flooded, and a hard frost just before Christmas converted
them into sheets of clear black ice. The Bishop was
tempted to join the skaters, and delighted in the exercise.
In later years he played hockey when possible for his winter
exercise. [wo afternoons a week were fixed as hockey after-
noons, on which other young people from the neighbourhood
joined our children and played in one of the Palace fields.
The game lost much of its excitement when the Bishop was
not at home. We played with more vigour than science,
and many were persuaded to join who had never thought of
sharing in such a game; even the district nurses found
hockey at the Palace a pleasant refreshment after their work.
Games were known in which several bishops took part.

In the summer there were scratch games of cricket,
but they did not meet with so much approval as the
hockey. Sometimes the Bishop took a fancy for croquet.
He wanted an excuse for half an hour in the garden after a
morning of letter-writing. He would turn out from his study
with his college cap on his head, and call up to the school-
room window for a child to come down and play croquet
with him. But he was never an enthusiast for the game, and
deserted it for the amusement of extracting plantains from
the lawn. A spud was kept in a handy corner by his study
door, and when his letters became too irritating, he would
sally out to seek relief by attacking the plantains.

Visitors at the Palace will remember the way in which
he used to come out of his study in search of a little refresh-
ment; it seemed as if he wanted some humanising influence
in the midst of all the puzzles of diocesan administration.
He did not want to talk about his work, but to throw it off,

1891 SOCIAL LIFE AT THE PALACE 73

and the way in which he would linger in talk with any con-
genial person gave an impression of leisure unusual in the
life of a busy man. One friend remembers how, after having
returned late one night after a busy day in London, he was
able to spend an hour and a half in the drawing-room next
morning discussing the marriage laws, giving the impression
that he had nothing particular to do. Yet he notes in his
engagement book that during the first eight months of his
episcopate he gave I15 sermons and speeches.

He began at once a plan which was carried out whenever
possible, of inviting parties of his clergy with their wives and
daughters, to the Palace for a couple of days. He liked to
bring together in this way clergy from different parts, so as
to increase the brotherly feeling throughout the diocese.
These visits were arranged for days when he was free to stay
at home and attend to his guests. His only regret was
that he was so much away that he could not invite people as
often as he wished. But the personal attention he paid to
all who came was such as to make them feel that they were
asked in no perfunctory way, nor left to entertain one another,
but that they came to see the Bishop himself. Those who
came to see him on business were asked to stay to lunch or
tea, and there were unexpected inroads after committees when
our children had to fly from the table to make room for
the guests brought in by their father.

The laity in the diocese were invited to stay at the
Palace over Sunday, so that they might have the pleasure of
the Cathedral services. But, though we had frequent large
Sunday gatherings, they were not allowed to interfere with
the regular arrangements for the day nor to be a burden to
the household. The plan carried out without interruption
since our marriage, that there should be no cooking and no
regular late dinner on Sundays, still prevailed. He said that
if people did not like our ways they need not come. But he
did not wish any guest to feel compulsion to go to church
because he was in a bishop’s house, and everyone was made
to feel that he was at liberty to do as he liked.

The Palace was used for meetings and gatherings of every
kind. The Abbot’s Hall was most suitable for this purpose,
and was willingly granted for any good object, with the in-

14 LIFE AT PETERBOROUGH 1892

evitable tea afterwards. Amongst the larger gatherings of the
year was the Conference of Rural Deans, who always stayed
for a whole day and night. They had to be scattered for the
night in the precincts and throughout the town, but between
forty and fifty had their meals, and spent the day at the
Palace. Garden parties were given in the summer, and to
the last the Bishop was ever trying to discover new ways in
which the Palace could be made useful to the Diocese. To
bring people to Peterborough was to make them interested
in the Cathedral, and helped them to feel it, what he wished
to make it, the centre of diocesan life.

In the Holy Week of 1892 he undertook thedaily addresses
in the Cathedral, taking as his subject the chief actors in the
great drama of the Crucifixion, the Chief Priests, Judas,
Pontius Pilate and the Multitude. On Good Friday he con-
ducted the meditations of the Three Hours’ Service which was
held that year for the first time in Peterborough Cathedral.

The spring was taken up with Confirmations, Convocation
and other London meetings. His visits to London were always
fugitive. He did not like London, and never cared to stay
there longer than necessary. But the requests for sermons
and lectures constantly increased. Once a year he used to
address the Travellers’ Club at Toynbee Hall in preparation
for their journeys to Italy. He helped them to plan their
tours and suggested places to visit that they would never
have thought of without him. Then he gave them an
historical lecture to prepare them for what they were to see,
‘which, says a member of the Club,’ ‘would have been little
to us but for those wonderful lectures of his; it is impossible
to give an idea of the stream of light which flowed from them.’

On May 22 he preached at the Temple Church, and with
reference to the coming election chose as his subject ‘ Religion
and Politics.’ He said that it was sad that an election
should be regarded as a calamity and as certain to stir up
ill will and animosity, and showed how it might instead be
used as a means of education. ‘A politician isnot merely an
official of the people, he is an educator of the people.’ ‘Ina
democratic state, politics are necessarily a mighty means of
popular education, and every man who takes part in them

' Published in Zhe Heritage of the Spirit. Sampson Low.

1892 ADVENTURE AT LAACH 75

should do so with the spirit of a teacher.’ ‘He is the truest
patriot who proclaims that he would rather see the second-
best way triumph by worthy means, than secure the victory of
the best way by unworthy means.’ ‘Inno capacity in life so
much as in politics is a man’s character immediately influential
apart from the things which he does.’ ‘ We need amore con-
scious and deliberate application of the principles of Christian
morality to every department of life. Itis not wholesome
that the region of political life should be regarded as dubious.’

After the Trinity Ordination we went with our two eldest
daughters for a fortnight to the Rhine district. Amongst
other places we visited the little lake of Laach, which lies in a
curious volcanic district, and has a fine Benedictine Abbey on
its shores. As we drove to Laach he read to us out of the
guidebook strange tales as to the volcanic fumes which at
times come out of cracks and holes in the earth, so that
poisoned rats and mice are sometimes found lying under
banks or in caves. The next day we started to walk round
the lake, a distance of about six miles, the way lying through
thick woods. We were overtaken by a thunderstorm, and as we
were sheltering under the trees, a peasant girl came hurriedly
along the path and asked the way to the nearest village.
Noticing her troubled look when we told her that we were
strangers, and could not direct her, we asked what was the
matter. She said that her sweetheart had fallen down and
she was afraid he must be hurt, as she could not make him
answer. We bade her lead us to the spot, and followed her to
a deserted building on the edge of the lake, used formerly by
a seminary in the neighbourhood as a place of holiday resort.
Telling our daughters to wait for us, we followed her to a
flight of ruined area steps, leading to the basement of the
building. She pointed to an opening at the bottom, and said
that her companion had gone down there to shelter from the
rain, whilst she stood under their solitary umbrella, and that
when, after waiting a quarter of an hour, she called to him,
she could get no answer. Looking down the opening and
through the hole at the bottom, we could see the dim form
and white face of a man in the darkness below. My husband
went down the broken steps, and fortunately remembering
the guidebook tales of volcanic fumes, put his head in

76 LIFE AT PETERBOROUGH 1892

cautiously. He withdrew it at once, saying, ‘I cannot
breathe there.’ As he stood an instant thinking, I could not
refrain from imploring him not to try to go in. But he
answered at once, ‘It is impossible to leave a fellow-creature
to perish there.’ He bade me catch hold of the belt of his
Norfolk jacket and be ready to give a pull when necessary.
Then first filling his lungs with fresh air, he made a plunge
into the cellar, holding his breath, and tugged the man as far
as he could, and then threw himself back to get some more
fresh air. This was repeated several times, whilst I helped as
well as I could by pulling from behind. At last he got the
man to the opening, and we dragged him up the broken steps,
and laid him on the wet grass with his head in my lap, whilst
the poor girl stood bewildered and helpless watching us. We
sent our daughters to get aid from the inn, but as we were
just half way round the lake, they had to run three miles
through the rain, breathless and exhausted, thinking that delay
might mean loss of life. Meanwhile in the sodden forest,
under the drip of the rain through the trees, we tried to bring
back life to the inanimate form. But the feelings of thankful-
ness at having been allowed to save a human being’s life were
soon changed to disappointment. All our efforts to induce
artificial respiration were in vain.. It was a comfort after-
wards to be told by a doctor that nothing could have restored
the man, the deadly fumes of the carbonic acid gas must have
done their work before he was got out of the cellar. But for
nearly an hour we continued our useless efforts, and then had
to give in. My husband watched at the edge of the lake for
the boat which he expected would be sent from the inn; the
poor girl and I waited by the body. She was confused and
stupefied ; the one thing that seemed to trouble her was how
she was to get home to her own village that night. They
had come by train to Laach to walk by the lake. At her
feet lay the little bunch of wild strawberries which they had
gathered and tied up together during the happy beginning of
their walk. Cold and wet we waited; she knelt with me
whilst I prayed for her, but my words seemed hardly to
penetrate her mind; hers was a dull, unattractive face, and
the strangeness of what had happened, the unknown nature
of the foreigners who had tried to help her, made her feel

1892 VISIT TO IRELAND 77

only utterly bewildered. At last a boat was seen approaching,
sent from the inn after our daughters’ arrival. The men who
came in it refused to move the body, saying it must stay as
it was till the authorities removed it. So we covered the white
face with a handkerchief, the girl got into the boat, voluble
now that she was with people of her own kind, and we, refusing
to be rowed across, set off to walk back in order to get warm
after the chill watching.

At the inn of course we were greeted with many questions ;
but the occurrence was not considered surprising. No one
who knew the district would have gone anywhere below the
surface of the earth in such thundery weather. The landlord
said that there were parts of his cellars into which he never
went during a thunderstorm. We were afraid lest we might
be delayed to give evidence, but the place was so remote that
things moved easily. The Burgomaster came in whilst we
were at supper, and asked a few questions, and next morning
we left by train without any difficulty. Both at the inn that
evening and at the station next morning my husband was
treated as a hero. One man after another asserted that he
would never have dared to try to get the man out, and many
were the strange stories told us of accidents resulting from
these volcanic fumes.

By the middle of June we were back at Peterborough, and
in July we went over to Dublin for the Tercentenary of
Trinity College. This was the Bishop’s only visit to Ireland.
-We were the guests of Dr. Salmon, the venerable Provost of
Trinity College, and were much interested by the succession
of brilliant spectacles with which the occasion was celebrated ;
they culminated in a garden party at the Viceregal lodge, to
which many of the distinguished guests, in their magnificent
academic robes, drove in Irish cars, amidst the cheers and
admiration of the people of Dublin. The Bishop, together
with many other representatives of learning, received an Hon.
Degree and became LL.D. of Trinity College. The Sunday
after the Commemoration we spent at Birr Castle with
Lord and Lady Rosse, and were shown the famous telescope ;
and the Bishop preached in the church at Parsonstown.
The next week he was back at Peterborough travelling about
the diocese, preaching, confirming and presiding at the prize

78 LIFE AT PETERBOROUGH 1892 _

givings of various schools. He was especially welcome on
these occasions, for his speeches’ were not only stimulating to
all interested in education, but he could amuse and keep the
attention of the boys. On Sunday, August 7, he preached at
Oxford to the summer gathering of University Extension
Students,? and then read a paper on the Fenland to the
Archeological Congress at Cambridge.®

During this and other summers he visited as many of his
country parishes as possible, and spent Sundays in preaching
in country villages, sometimes two, sometimes even three,
sermons in the day. One of his clergy writes, ‘He was the
most delightful guest possible, entering into the family life,
enjoying every subject of conversation, and always taking us
up some bypath of knowledge which led to clearer judgment,
without humiliating anyone. How late we used to sit up at
night listening to him as he talked of subjects that no one
else present knew much about! And yet he put us on terms
of equality, and never seemed to know that we were less at
home with the subject than he. I remember fascinating talks
about ancient Spanish literature, the Flemish School of
painting, the Vaudois, British birds.’

As many August days as possible he spent at home, so as
to see something of his boys during their holidays, and he was
able to do a little work at the fifth volume of the ‘ History of
the Papacy.’ Many friends visited us this summer, amongst
others President and Mrs. Gilman from the Johns Hopkins
University, Baltimore, and the Count and Countess Balzani
from Rome.

The Diocesan Conference was held at Northampton in
the end of September. The chief part of the Bishop’s
opening address was devoted to the subject of Church schools,
and he spoke of the importance of defining terms and really
knowing what was under discussion. He alluded to the
outcry for popular control over Voluntary schools, and said
‘a little thought will show you that at present the control of
all State-aided schools rests absolutely with the Education
Department. . . . the actual powers of the managers are so

‘ Some of them have been published in Thoughts on Education.

* Printed in Thoughts on Education.
* Reprinted in A7storical Essays and Reviews.

1892 ETRUSCAN CITIES 34

limited that it seems to me useless to discuss, as a matter of
principle, who are the persons who are to exercise them. . . .
The only power of any importance that rests with the Board
of Management is to determine the nature of the religious
education which is to be given.’

The week finished with five special functions, church
openings or dedications, and then he went to Folkestone
for the Church Congress, where he preached one of the
opening sermons, read a paper on Christian Ethics,’ and
addressed meetings of working men and working women.
As soon as the Congress was over we started for Italy.
Three days after he had spoken to the working men at Folke-
stone, we were walking over the lovely promontory of Porto
Fino on the Eastern Riviera, and lunching off an omelet at a
roadside inn. He wrote to a friend that evening, ‘We are
perfectly revelling in Italy ; it is too nice for words,’

On this journey he made a study of Etruscan cities, and
read to help him G. Dennis’ great work which he carried
with him as a guidebook. At Volterra and Corneto he was
captivated by the strange interest of the Etruscan tombs and
the wonderful riches of the local museums. After a few
days in Rome with the Balzanis we carried off Count
Balzani to Viterbo.

Viterbo delighted the Bishop. We spent a day of inter-
mittent rain in making the circuit of its ruined walls, during
which he repeatedly declared there was nothing he liked
better in the world than exploring old walls.

To Count Ugo Balzani ‘Cortona: October 27, 1892.

‘Dear Balzani,—After we had recovered from the shock
of your departure from Viterbo, we took your driver to Castel
d’Asso, which was amazingly interesting. Ina lonely ravine
like that which goes round Ronciglione, we found an Etruscan
cemetery, of tombs with facades sculptured in the rock. Only
a peasant’s hut and aruined medieval castle marked the head-
land; round it flowed a stream, and the whole semicircle of
rock beyond was crowned with crumbling sculptures of a
simple architectural sort. Then we visited Bulicame? a

' Published in Zhe Church and the Nation.
* He felt a special interest in visiting this hot spring because it is mentioned
by Dante in the /#ferno, Canto xiv. p. 79.

80 LIFE AT PETERBOROUGH 1892

sulphurous fountain which comes up boiling on a desert
plain and petrifies everything on its banks. Next day we
had a lovely drive to Orvieto. The view of the Lake of
Bolsena from Montefiascone was splendid, and I found at
Montefiascone a Romanesque church more beautiful even
than those at Viterbo. At Orvieto we visited some painted
Etruscan tombs, most interesting, with pictures of a butcher’s
and a baker’s shop exactly like those of to-day, yet probably
700 B.C. At Perugia we found quite another kind of Etruscan
tomb, with magnificent carvings on the roof, of palatial size
and splendour. To-day we drove from Perugia here, along
Lake Trasimeno, all along the site of the battlefield, which is
most intelligible at a glance. I have improved my mind
enormously, but pine to return to Viterbo and see Norchia,
Bieda, Toscanella, and the despised Civita Castellana. I
found an Englishman at Perugia who had been everywhere.
I was at first disgusted, because he had been to more places
than I had, but, on talking to my landlady, I found that he
was preparing a new edition of Murray’s Guide. He said
that Toscanella had architecture of surpassing beauty, that
Civita was one of the most beautiful places in Italy, and that
the view from Soracte was superb.

‘As you were interested about the milestones about
Viterbo, I must tell you that coming from Perugia to-day we
went by kilometres till we entered Tuscany ; then the mile-
stones counted by miles from Florence. I asked my driver.
and he said it was so in Tuscany, not in Umbria. I noticed
that he had a longing for Tuscany, and regarded it as a much
richer land than Umbria. Alas, our journey is coming rapidly
to an end, but it has been a most delightful and fruitful one,
thanks greatly to you.’

We were absent from England for five weeks. On his
return home, the Bishop had to preach before the University
of Cambridge the annual sermon in Commemoration of
Founders and Benefactors. This sermon had been written
in spare moments during his holiday. He took as his text
‘My heart within me is desolate : I remember the days of old;
I meditate on all Thy doings,’ and spoke of the influence
exercised by the University through the temper of mind which
prevailed in it, bred of the unwearied pursuit of truth and the
sincere love of knowledge of long generations of students,
many of whom were obscure and unknown, mere names
recited year after year on the long list of benefactors.'

1 This sermon is printed in Universtty and other Sermons.

1892 THE EAST ANGLIAN BISHOPS 81

From Cambridge he went to Ely for the gathering of
East Anglian Bishops. It was the custom that the Bishops
of Lincoln, Norwich, Peterborough, Ely, and St. Albans
should spend two days together once a year, each taking it in
his turn to entertain the others and their wives. The time
was spent partly in discussing matters connected with their
work as bishops, partly in social intercourse. The Bishop's
share in these discussions, and the way he viewed some of the
questions brought forward, are thus described by Dr. Festing
(the late Bishop of St. Albans) :

‘What struck me from the first, and always, was the way
he always gave us his best. He never bottled up things for
an audience. It was the subject that possessed him, not the
effect he might produce. If anything he was more thorough,
to my mind, in our little East Anglian conclave than in a
larger assembly. But in small or great meetings, or in
private conversation, there was always the lifting the subject
on to a higher mental level. We got to principles, to wide
views; we left mere details, or rather, for he never forgot
their working value, details were not allowed to be Zhe thing,
nor were rules and regulations. .. . Asa bishop he seemed
to think much of the duty of a bishop with regard to the
ccrporate life, the history of the Church, the position of the
Church as a body in the world—and, the bishop was to rule,
but it was to be the rule of knowledge and thought, not of
arbitrary will, so he wanted time in dealing with men and
things. . . . As to his dealings with clergy and more generally,
it seemed to me he had great sympathy with the tempted.
He was sorry for them, and though discipline was exercised,
he was anxious to open the door to a penitent, so that a man
might get back again if possible. He had hopes about the
possibility of repentance, and hopes that in every man’s
character there is a generous bit which may be touched by
generous treatment and so the man might be lifted up.
Connected with this, perhaps, was his very deep feeling about
the possibilities of the love of God,and the superiority of love
over mere correctness of conduct. He was good at business,
perhaps a little scornful at times in dealing with men not so
quick at seeing things as he was. Business seemed to him to
be justice and righteousness in action. He was very good
and kind in our private discussions, never scornful, never
trying to score off our ignorance or dulness. But at times
he started a theory (so I got to think) rather for the purpose

VOL. II. G

82 LIFE AT PETERBOROUGH 1893

of seeing how people would take it and so getting light upon
the subject. It helped his thought.’

After the Ely meeting came the autumn visit to Leicester,
during which he went up every week to lecture in London at
St. Paul’s Cathedral on ‘the Friars.” ! These lectures were
given with only the help of the briefest notes, and showed, as
a critic observed, how steeped he was in medieval history.
A Roman Catholic newspaper remarked that: ‘no son of
St. Dominic could have sketched with greater tenderness the
portrait of his spiritual ancestor.’

It would be impossible to mention all the different lectures
he gave during this winter. As usual he shared with others
the impressions gathered during his holidays by lecturing at
Peterborough on ‘the Cities of Etruria.” In Lent he gave a
course of addresses in the Cathedral on ‘Some Holy Men of
Old,” beginning with St. Guthlac, and ending with John
Wesley. He also gave a series of lectures to the Leicester
clergy on the ‘ History of Indulgences,’ and repeated them
in Peterborough and Northampton. Besides these, he gave
many separate lectures in different parts of the Diocese and
elsewhere. Mr. Grose Hodge writes that his lectures ‘ were very
largely attended, and many nonconformist ministers sat side
by side with Anglicans of every type, listening to the clear,
unadorned English to which the Bishop rigidly kept himself
on these occasions. “ Knowledge,” he used to say, “is the
solution of most difficulties even amongst the clergy. It is
only ignorance that is intolerant.”’

In the spring of 1893, the Welsh Suspensory Bill was
introduced into the House of Commons. At the Bishop’s
request, meetings were held in all his Rural Deaneries to pro-
test against the Bill. He himself presided and spoke at a
crowded and enthusiastic meeting in the Drill Hall at Peter-
borough. He said that he spoke that evening as a citizen,
not as a bishop, and that as a citizen he objected to the Bill;
it was the first step towards disestablishment, and it was as
an Englishman that he objected to disestablishment. ‘ It is
one of the proud boasts of Englishmen at present that they
can say that they are Englishmen first, and that nothing

1 These lectures have been published in Lectures and Addresses,

ap a

1893 TRAVELS 83

stands between them and allegiance to their country. But it
will be very different if the Church of England is disestab-
lished; then there will be many who will be constrained to
say that they are Churchmen first and only Englishmen
afterwards.’

This year we went for our holiday in June, immediately
after the Trinity Ordination. The Bishop had been reading
Mr. Samuel Butler’s enchanting book ‘ Alps and Sanctuaries’
and determined to visit some of the places there described,
We divided our time between the Italian lakes and the lower
slopes of the Alps, and explored many mountain sanctuaries.

To his daughter Lucia ‘Monte Generoso: June 13, 1893.

‘.... After sitting last night in the garden of an
Italian villa it is odd now to be shivering with one’s great-
coat on, and all the windows shut in the room of a ridiculous
new Swiss hotel. ... Twice we have dropped down into
places where English gather, once at Baveno and once at
Varese. The English consisted of a few men, a few old
ladies and hosts of girls. I have been looking at these
girls with despair. They do nothing: they know nothing :
they don’t go and see anything. They sit and gossip; then
they read drivelling novels from the library: they sit in the
earden or have a row on the lake or have a drive anywhere.
But they know nothing of the interesting things to be seen
and care less. I went to Varese to see a most interesting
Sanctuary about five miles off, with a series of chapels reaching
up the hill. There were about sixty people in the hotel :
many of them had been staying there for months: I do not
think that any one of them knew that there was such a place,
or had any intention of seeing it. They drove by the lake or
pottered in the town whenever they tore themselves from
gossip in the garden. Really such people ought not to be
allowed to travel. It is quite terrible to see what English
girls become when left to themselves. They were quite nice;
quite amiable and doubtless virtuous, but perfectly empty.
Why did not they stay at home and play lawn tennis?
What was the good of their travelling? The spectacle of so
many English girls has filled me with terror. Don’t be like
them ; have some object in life. The sight of people without
an object has quite overcome me: at home people profess to
be doing something ; but when they travel their imbecility
becomes apparent. There: I have grumbled enough.’

G2

34 LIFE AT PETERBOROUGH 1893

As a result of this journey the Bishop got to know
Mr. S. Butler. He wrote to tell him the pleasure his books
had given us, and asked him to visit us. After this he came
frequently, and the Bishop was much attracted by his original
mind and stores of out-of-the-way knowledge.

July was filled with a variety of diocesan work. He had
his annual gathering of Rural Deans, assisted at the diocesan
retreat, took a quiet day for school teachers, preached at
Lichfield Cathedral to a gathering of Sunday school teachers,
went to the Conference of Clergy held at Oxford, where he
spoke at one of their meetings and preached to them. He
was at Lincoln to preach the hospital sermon in the Cathe-
dral, and at Marlborough to preach to the boys and speak at
the prize-day luncheon. These engagements for one month,
in addition to the ordinary work of consecrating cemeteries,
instituting clergy, opening churches, presiding at meetings, and
carrying on all the business of the Diocese, will give some idea
of the nature of his life. To follow all his various engage-
ments would be impossible.

In the autumn he attended the Birmingham Church
Congress, and was glad to find himself again amongst the old
friends of his Worcester days. He spoke at the Congress on
‘Science and Faith.’ Writing to Mr. Cruttwell, he says of this
speech: ‘I am glad that you approve of my desperate attempt
to condense a treatise into a quarter of an hour’s speech.’ He
showed that natural science could not give men all the
knowledge which they needed.

‘The fact that man has the power of asking questions
which transcend the natural order is a fact to be accounted

for. . . . Faith also appeals to facts, the facts of consciousness.
It is not concerned with idle speculations. Man sets the pro-
blem to which faith supplies the answer. . . . It will be said

that this answer is not universally accepted. I reply that the
experience to which faith appeals is not universal; and men
may fail, or may refuse, to gain it. It is so in a still greater
degree with science. The experience on which any branch
of knowledge is founded is a matter for experts, and the vast
majority of mankind enjoy the results of science without any
care for the principles on which they rest. . . . Ifa man said
“J think nothing of chemistry. ... I once looked into it,
but its method was too abstruse and its procedure too round-

1893 BIRMINGHAM CHURCH CONGRESS 85

about for a plain man like myself,” we should tell him that
his ignorance was pardonable, but that the attitude of
ignorance towards knowledge should be respectful and not
contemptuous. . . . Faith must always be subject to criticism,
relevant and irrelevant. But the verification of its hypotheses
must come from those who approach its subject matter, ze.
God, in the same patient and watchful spirit as the man of
science approaches the subject of his study. . . . God working
in nature according to His own purposes, this is to a believer
the revelation of science. But man is endowed with powers
which rise above the natural order and enable him to stand
in conscious relationship with God. It is in accordance with
all that science shows us of natural processes that this relation-
ship should be the object of a gradual revelation. . . . We mur-
mur at difficulties, at slow progress, at apparent waste, at misery
which we long to remedy, but are powerless. Nature at least
may teach us to combine patience with effort, and trust in
the harmony of heaven.’

He also spoke at Coventry to a working-men’s meeting
in connexion with the Congress and preached the closing
sermon in Worcester Cathedral.

In this sermon, after speaking of the lessons of the Con-
gress, he stated what to him was the meaning of the English
Church :

‘We tend, I think, to make too many apologies for the
supposed defects of the Church of England ; its want of dis-
cipline ; its absence of positive definition on many points;
its large latitude of opinion. To me it seems that the Church
of England is the only religious organisation which faces the
world as it is, which recognises the actual facts, and works for
God, in God’s own way. . . . The Church of England is rigid
in maintaining necessary truth, and is careful to draw the
line between what is necessary and what is matter for ex-
pediency. ... I trust that the time is past when anyone
wishes, for uniformity’s sake, to narrow the limits of the
English Church. . . Its proudest boast is that it faces the
world as it is, and faces it simply.and straightforwardly. It
has no reservations, nothing which it need explainaway. The
treasures of the past history of the Church are open to its
children, and they are free to adapt them to the needs of
their souls, provided they do not enforce as obligatory what
has been deliberately left to the responsibility of the individual.
The aspirations and ideas of the present, in politics, in science,
in thought, have no terrors for the Church of England, for its

86 LIFE AT PETERBOROUGH 1893

hold of vital truth has never been encumbered by the rubbish
of falling scaffoidings and tottering buttresses, which threaten
to drag the main building intoruin. The Church of England
faces the world as it is, knowing that the world-spirit is
strong and operative in many forms, resolute in maintaining
God’s truth. But it draws a clear line between God’s truth
and man’s means of expressing it, however noble and beauti-
ful they may be. God’s truth set forth in accordance with
primitive practice, that is the position of the English Church.’!

During this year, in the intervals of his life of external
activity, he was occupied in seeing his new volume of the
‘History of the Papacy’ through the press. He had found
it difficult to get time for the finishing touches.

To Mr. C. J. Longman ‘February 25, 1893.

‘1 will send you very shortly the MS. of another volume
of my “Papacy.” It will bea long time before I trouble you
with any more.’

He did not yet quite give up hope of carrying his book
further ; but each year the chance grew less. On Novem-
ber 7, 1896 he wrote to Mr. Longman, ‘I fear that my history
will remain where it is. Luckily 1527 is a sort of epoch,
which marks the end of the Renaissance Papacy, and the book
has a consistency as it is.’

In the next volume, according to his original idea, he
would have treated the Reformation in England, and some
pages of the first chapter on the divorce of Henry VIII. were
written before he was obliged to abandon all hope of con-
tinuing his work.

The fifth volume of the ‘History of the Papacy’ deals with
the beginnings of Luther’s career. It contains a study of
German humanism, and a careful investigation into the history
and use of indulgences. Itends with thesack of Rome. With
the central figure of his drama, Luther himself, the Bishop
was not much in sympathy. He was to him an astounding
phenomenon, an extraordinary force, without whom probably
reformation would have been impossible, but Erasmus was
far more congenial to him. His work stopped before he could
say his final word about Luther.

! This sermon is published in University and other Sermons.

1894 THE HISTORY OF THE PAPACY 87

Dr. Gore (now Bishop of Worcester) wrote to him about
the book, ‘I have just been reading the last volume of your
Popes, with great gratitude for “the spirit of judgment.”’
The following letters also refer to this volume :

To Mr. H. C, Lea ‘June 16, 1894.

‘Thank you very much for your notice of my last volume
in “The New World.” It is rare to be reviewed by anyone
who knows anything of the subject. I quite agree with your
criticisms, as I know too well my own limitations. My
method is, to take up questions as they present themselves,
and to view them as they might have presented themselves
to an intelligent member of the Curia. I try to take the
view of a contemporary statesman, who was not a philo-
sopher, or a thinker, but merely a man of affairs. I try to find
out how he acted on the evidence before him. Thus I have
introduced nothing into my examination of German humanism
which had not come before the Curia in the Reuchlin contest.
I don’t hold Leo X. responsible for a knowledge of the ten-
dencies of theological thought. These are discovered after-
wards, by reflection after the event. In the same way I
looked at Hergenrdther, but quailed before the labour of an
account of the actual grievancesofGermany. I had indicated
them before, in dealing with the Concordat with Frederick IIL;
they were no heavier than they had been. Anyhow it
seemed to me that an account of them could only be under-
taken as a separate work, dealing with papal aggression as a
whole. I incline to think that the future of historical writing
is on your lines. The study of institutions in detail must be
.done before general results can be summarised. The history
of the future will be less concerned with facts and more with
internal development. We are only preparing the way.

‘I have lately come across a document which would
interest you, about Indulgences. It is in a huge Italian work
in three volumes, “ Caterina Sforza,” by Count Pasolini. The
book as a whole would not interest you, but there is a curious
document from Bona of Savoy, who wishes to make amends
for the evil life of her husband, Gian Galeazzo Sforza, who
was assassinated. She accordingly prepared a case for the
opinion of the Sorbonne, as to how she could merit his
deliverance from Purgatory. The answer of the Sorbonne
recognises almost unlimited power of obtaining indulgences
for another. If you would like this, I will have it copied and
send it to you’

88 LIFE AT PETERBOROUGH 1894

To Professor Kolde (the distinguished German biographer of Luther).
(Translated from the German)
* October 5, 1894.

‘TI should like to express my gratitude for your review
of my last volume of the “History of the Papacy” in the
“ Deutsche Literatur-Zettung.” | have learnt so much from your
books that I am glad to read your opinion of my treatment
of Luther. My point of view is restricted and somewhat
abstract. In my opinion Luther’s personality is the hardest
to understand as a whole in all my period. As a man,
as a German, as the leader of a party, as a statesman, as
a reformer, in each of these characters taken alone he is
tolerably clear. But to connect all his sides with the ideas of
the time, and give them their proper importance in the
history of the world (weltgaschichtliche Bedeutung), that
. I feel to be impossible. I have only tried to discover some-
thing about his attitude to the idea of a united Christendom.
What I have written does not satisfy me myself. It could
not satisfya German. That you have not judged me severely
is a mark of your kindness.’

Dr. Kolde in his answer spoke of his admiration for the
Bishop’s ‘ great and beautiful work.’ He described it as built
up on a foundation of original research which gathered
together the results of the great literature of monographs,
and treated them from a universal point of view. But his
admiration naturally did not keep him from differing in many
points from the Bishop’s conclusions. The conception of the
whole book led to its author treating Luther mainly from his
political side. Dr. Kolde said that amongst German students
the conviction had grown increasingly strong that Luther
could only be adequately understood from the religious side.
To this the Bishop answered :

* Peterborough: November 15, 1894.

‘My dear Dr. Kolde,—I am very much obliged to you for
your letter, with every word of which I cordially agree. I have
said somewhere in my book that “Luther had a genius for
religion.” He was not a theologian, nor was he a statesman.
But the misfortune is that, in times of revolution and change,
a man is driven to be a theologian and a statesman against
his will, and must be judged as such. My point of view
is that it was a misfortune for Christendom that the Reforma-
tion took the form of a breach of unity of the Church.
All would agree on this, but we Protestants would say

1894 LUTHER | 89

that it was inevitable. By this it is generally meant that
there were contradictory tendencies of thought which
necessitated opposite forms of expression. I do not think so.
I do not think that any breach was inevitable. The question
is whose fault was it? I have investigated this question as
1 would investigate any political secession. I have regarded
it as a question of governmental wisdom and justice. I have
tried to show that the Papacy behaved towards Luther both
foolishly and unjustly at first. Luther made no demands
which the Church ought not to have been able to supply,
according to its own principles. The Curia was responsible
for driving Luther to revolt. It must be judged by its fidelity
to its principles, and it was not faithful. This is the point
which I have tried to bring into prominence. It is not a
point which interests many people; most people would think
that it was not worth considering. We are so accustomed to
the idea of a divided Church that we do not stop to consider
how it arose, or who was responsible for it. It may be quite
true that the Roman system was opposed to liberty, but this
must be made good in the particular facts.

‘Great as is my admiration for Luther as a religious
teacher, I am still more impressed by him as a popular
leader. He had all the qualities for such a post—quick
sympathy with the average man, a capacity for picking up
what was in the air and expressing it forcibly. This to me
accounts for his defects; he was a man of his own time and
race ; he has to be understood among his surroundings. But it
is useless for me to write at length on points about which you
know so much more than I do. I cannot refrain from saying
that amongst German writers on the subject I found your
works far the best.

To Dr. Richard Garnett * Leicester: November 24, 1894.

‘Your letter was forwarded to me at Leicester, where
I am staying in lodgings, and I am engaged from morning to
night with meetings and interviews and speeches. Hence my
delay. ... Your mention of the articles against Morone
makes me wish that I could ever look forward to writing any
more history. Alas, the chances seem to fade away; I have
very little hope of any more continuous work. I may be able
to do something, but I think it will have to be on a smaller
scale, and of a slighter character. I have just been having a
most amiable correspondence with Kolde about my view of
Luther. He practically agrees with me and writes that:
“ Luther in erster Linie als religiédse Natur zu begreifen ist.
Seine Beurtheilung der Dinge auch der politischen ist immer

90 LIFE AT PETERBOROUGH 1894

die religiése, daher die relative Beschranktheit seines Blickes
in diesen Fragen... . Er war viel weniger Theologe als
man gewohnlich annimmt.” !

‘I never thought to get so much out of a German.’
To the same ‘January 1, 1895.

‘Thanks for calling my attention to Symonds’ criticism of
my book ; it is very gratifying. But I see that he feels a pang
at parting with the idea that the Reformation sprang from
the scandals of the Roman Court. I have tried to show that
the revolt against the Papacy was like any other revolt; it
was against power oppressively exercised, contrary to the
popular wish and the popular sense of justice. .

‘If you have looked at my last volume you may have
guessed that the question I have before me is, not—“ Why did
the Reformation come?” that is obvious—but—* Why did the
old remain, why was it not swept away ?”

‘The thing that needs apology is the weakness of the
Reformation. Surely to explain this we must get to my
position (which is also Kolde’s), that it was led by a man who
was neither a statesman nor a theologian.’

The correspondence with Dr. Kolde led to a visit from
him when he came to England in the following year. He
says that the opportunities he then enjoyed of discussing
important historical problems with Dr. Creighton belong to
the most precious recollections of his life.

In the winter of 1893 to 1894 the Bishop gave the
Hulsean Lectures at Cambridge. He chose as his subject
‘Persecution and Tolerance. Though he called the
lectures when published nothing more than ‘a trifling con-
tribution to a great subject,’ those who wish to understand his
mind will find it perhaps more clearly expressed in them than
in any other of his writings. They give the results of his
learning, they show the principles on which his judgments
were formed, they tell what he meant by religious liberty,
they explain the temper in which he approached the opinions
of others. I will quote only his description of the tolerant
man :

‘The tolerant man has decided opinions, but recognises

' *Luther is in the first place to be understood from the religious side. He
judges everything, even on political matters, always from the religious point of

view ; hence the comparative narrowness of his outlook in these questions. .. .
He was much less of a theologian than is generally recognised,’

1894 THE HULSEAN LECTURES 91

the process by which he reached them, and keeps before him-
self the truth that they can only be profitably spread by
repeating in the case of others a similar process to that
through which he passed himself. He always keeps in view
the hope of spreading his own opinions, but he endeavours to
do so by producing conviction. He is virtuous, not because
he puts his own opinions out of sight, nor because he thinks
that other opinions are as good as his own, but because his
opinions are so real to him that he would not have anyone
else hold them with less reality.

‘Tolerance is needful to the individual; for it is the
expression of that reverence for others which forms a great
part of the lesson which Christ came to teach him. It is
the means whereby he learns to curb self-conceit, and submit
to the penetrating discipline imposed by Christian love.’

His concluding words explain the spirit in which he faced
the problems that confronted him later in London :

‘ There is always a temptation to the possessors of power—
be they an individual, an institution, or a class—to use it
selfishly or harshly. Liberty is a tender plant and needs
jealous watching. It is always unsafe in the world, and is
only secure under the guardianship of the Church; for the
Church possesses the knowledge of man’s eternal destiny—
which alone can justify his claim to freedom.’

Lady Jebb remembers that she heard Dr. Peile, the
Master of Christ’s College, say, after the third Hulsean Lecture,
‘I have not heard a sermon like that for twenty-five years ;’
-to which she rejoined, ‘I have never heard a sermon like that
in England.’ Whilst Prince Edward of Saxe-Weimar said,
‘I don’t call that a sermon, but an essay,’ and Colonel Cald-
well, ‘It was too deep for me; I went to sleep.’

The lectures were afterwards published.

To Mr. C. J. Longman May 18, 1894.

‘People have been asking me about my Hulsean lectures.
They seemed to excite some interest. I send them to you
as they were delivered. If you would have them set up in
slips, I would perhaps add footnotes. I will also write an
introduction, and probably an appendix. But I think the
body of the book had better be the lectures as they were
given.

92 LIFE AT PETERBOROUGH 1894

To Mr. H. C. Lea ‘June 16, 1894.

‘T am just about to publish some lectures which I gave at
Cambridge lately, on “ Persecution.” My position is that per-
secution is not necessarily inherent in the conception of a
Church, but is inherent in the possession of power. I there-
fore traverse some of your conclusions in your “ Inquisition”
and regard the Church when vested with coercive power, not
as a religious body, but as a branch of secular institutions. I
will send you the book when it appears. It is very slight
and superficial, but is meant to plead for a reconsideration of
current judgment on the whole question.’

To Mrs. J. R. Green ‘Peterborough: June 10, 1895.

‘I have already forgotten all about my book. My copies
were sent out late, because I was in Italy when it came out,
and Longman had not told me of its issue.

‘I quite agree with you that man’s right to freedom of
opinion is hard to maintain in the face of the claims of society
on the individual. My only point is that persecution is not
inherent in religious opinions more than in any other set of
opinions which are taken as the basis of common life. All
I urge is that these things should be considered separately.
Christianity in itself as a system of thought and practice is
one thing. Christianity as the necessary basis for common
life is another. It was regarded in the ages of persecution as
this necessary basis. Its persecuting activity arose from a
cause which now no longer exists. It is certainly an open
question, if any set of opinions again become equally regarded
as necessary, whether or no persecution would revive. If
tolerance is a virtue, it is only because Christianity has
learned to regard it so—if indeed it has so learned. Any
other set of opinions—e.g. those of “naturalism ”—would be
more intolerant if they were predominant.’

When criticised in 1900 for the way in which he ruled, or,
as his critic thought, neglected to rule, his clergy, he referred
to this book as showing that he was only acting in accordance
with opinions that had long been his, the fruit of his study of
men in life and history.

After the last Hulsean lecture, on February 11, 1894, we
started for Algeria. He had found that the spring and early
summer months suited his country parishes best for Con-
firmations, and thought therefore that a winter holiday might
best fit in with his work. It was not easy for him to decide

1894 THE ROYAL ACADEMY DINNER 93

to desert Italy, but he longed for warmth, and so we went as
quickly as possible to Constantine, which much impressed
him. Then, after visiting the ruined city of Timegad, we
spent a couple of days with the Alfred Peases at Biskra, and
went to Tunis. On our way we stopped at Hammam
Meskoutine, and he enjoyed few things more than a long
walk from there over the hills covered with magnificent
woods of cork and wild olive to the remains of the wonderful
Roman fortress Announa.

At Tunis he felt for the first time the charm of the East and
enjoyed many rambles in the bazaar. But probably the day
we spent at Carthage gave him the keenest impression of
the whole journey. He got back to Peterborough in time to
take the addresses on the evenings in Holy Week and the
Three Hours service on Good Friday.

In May, he spoke at the Royal Academy dinner, and
returned thanks for the guests. He was much amused
at the effect produced by this speech. He was as yet
little known to the great world of London, but it is no
exaggeration to say that in one moment he found himself
famous. Everyone spoke about the speech; he was more
congratulated about it than about anything else in his life ;
and said, that he had now reached the pinnacle of fame; and
that he could not hope to do anything more remarkable
than to please and amuse such a critical audience as that
at the Academy banquet. It is useless to attempt to give
any idea of the speech from the reports of the press. It was
his manner as much as his matter which gave it its success,
The mixture of good-natured banter with real thought, the
humour and the unexpected turns of phrase delivered with
perfect ease, in tones that everyone could hear, made him one
of the best after-dinner speakers of hisday. He had probably
spoken as well in many quiet corners of his diocese or even of
his Northumbrian parish, but now London had found him out.
In Archbishop Benson’s diary there is the following entry
about this dinner: ‘Rosebery amusing, but by far the most
amusing, and in a higher flight and full of sense, was the
Bishop of Peterborough. Everybody came up to me after-
wards to congratulate me.’

A success of this sort simply amused the Bishop. He

94 LIFE AT PETERBOROUGH 1894

used to talk quite frankly in his family circle, or among his
intimate friends, of his successes, speaking of them as if
they were something outside himself. He would come in
from a dinner or a meeting, and when we asked him how
things had gone, he would say, ‘Oh! I have been a success
again ;’ or, with a little laugh, ‘It is quite absurd ; my speech
was again the success of the evening.’ There was no conceit
in this; he claimed no credit for his gifts, but he was too
clear-sighted not to be aware of the effect they produced,
and too frank to pretend to ignore it. He said that when he
had become well known, the pleasure of success was gone. It
had amused him to surprise people who knew nothing about
him, but when something out Of the common was expected
of him, nothing that he could say or do would astonish. As
he once said in a sermon: ‘Everything that we do, however
well we do it, however much we be praised in the doing it,
makes it more difficult to do something else. Success even
more than failure forges for us a chain of habit, and robs us
of the consciousness of freedom.’

In May a festival service was held at Peterborough to
dedicate some splendid gifts made to the Cathedral, including
a great organ, choir gates, and an altar canopy or baldachino
of alabaster and mosaic. The Bishop had been convinced
by his study of early Romanesque churches in Dalmatia and
Rome that a baldachino was the most fitting adornment for
an altar standing in an apse, as the altar in Peterborough
Cathedral does. His suggestion that the proposed reredos
should take this form was adopted, and the beautiful
baldachino, the gift of the children of Dr. Saunders, a former
dean, has proved a fine addition to the glory of the marble
pavement and the rare dignity of the choir of the Cathedral.

The Bishop preached the sermon at the dedication
festival, and spoke of the power of the ‘imaginations of the
thoughts of the heart’ to ennoble life, and of the way in which
a beautiful building expressed and stimulated these imagina-
tions... Speaking at the public luncheon afterwards, he said
that the Cathedral had grown in the affections of the people
of the diocese ever since they had learnt that its foundations
were threatened. They had not rested content with doing

} The sermon is published in University and other Sermons.

3894 THE PRIMARY CHARGE 95

the work necessary to maintain the fabric, but had gone on
to beautify it by voluntary effort and personal sacrifice so as
to make it fit for the service of God. He urged them to
persevere and do the work still needed.

The time had come when he must hold a primary visita-
tion of his Diocese. He had tried to think out some method
of avoiding the ordinary visitation, but in vain.

To his Chancellor, Mr. G. H. Blakesley
‘ Peterborough: April 6, 1894.

‘You cannot groan over the prospect of a visitation more
than I do. I thought over all possible means, but nothing
seemed satisfactory. The amount of formal business in ad-
mitting churchwardens is great, apparently some talk is
requisite. But what to say is a problem still unsolved.
I have sent zo articles of inquiry to the clergy. 1 take their
statistics from the “Church Year Book,” which supplies me
with detailed information. But I have sent articles to the
churchwardens, and my view is that I am always visiting my
clergy, but that once in three years the churchwardens should
feel that they can say their say to their Bishop.

‘That is the only theory I have, that of a safety-valve.
I can always zal a discontented parish by saying: “ Why
did not your officer inform me, when I had the opportunity
of investigating ?”’

‘ May 24, 1894.

‘Will you come here on Monday evening, so as to be
ready for the hideous formality which we are to discharge
on so many days? ... I am very sorry for you. I hope
you are equally sorry for me.’

He delivered the first portion of his Charge at Peter-
borough on May 29 and the remainder in six different
churches in various centres of the Diocese. In this Charge
he expresses his views on the current questions of the day—
Disestablishment, the Welsh Bill, social problems, education,
Biblical criticism, the Local Government Bill. As the Hul-
sean lectures reveal the temper of his mind, and the principles
on which his life was founded, so does the Primary Charge
show how he applied those principles to the questions of
practical life. It makes clear what manner of man he was,
more perhaps than anything else he ever wrote. It is equally
full of humour, of learning, of common sense, of practical

96 LIFE AT PETERBOROUGH 1894

wisdom, of deep spiritual insight. To give any idea of it
from quotations would be impossible, those who would under-
stand him must read it in full’; but I give a few short
sayings from it which are specially characteristic of him :

‘ Liberty is frequently regarded as if it were only a right ;
but it is also a serious responsibility. The great question for
the modern world to determine is how men are to be fitted
to bear the heavy burden of liberty.’

‘The great need of our day is that all human relationships
should be first moralised and then spiritualised. For this
great end we need not only good intentions, but knowledge
and wisdom.’

‘The whole question of discipline depends on the attitude
of the teacher towards the children as human beings. There
is in every lesson, no matter what the subject may be, a per-
petual appeal, unconscious, I admit, but its effect is cumula-
tive; and the most important effect of any educational
system is the general attitude towards life which it has
inculcated.’

‘The surest sign of social progress is increasing interest
in the generation that is to come.’

‘ The strength of a clergyman’s position lies in the fact
that he belongs to no class and to no party. It is his duty
to consider only the general welfare, and seek out the prin-
ciples on which it rests.’

‘ The service of man without the service of God becomes
an intolerable burden. Hopefulness in the long run is only
possible for one who prays.’

‘No man should always harp upon one string ; all should
have a resource within themselves which is sufficiently strong
to prevent them from being entirely under the influence of
their daily work.’

It is interesting to notice how he foreshadowed some
provisions of the Education Bill of 1902 :

‘T incline to think that our present system errs on the
side of uniformity. . . . There is need for greater latitude of
experiment. But any relaxation of central control in this
respect is only possible if local interest be keen, and if there
be an intelligent body to whom some measure of responsi-
bility may be delegated. I could imagine a committee of
the Town Council, or the District Council, which. stood
between the schools and the department ; but the existence

' The Charge has been reprinted in 7he Church and the Nation.

1894 WAGNER’S MUSIC 97

of such a body would probably presuppose more general
interest in the nature and contents of education than already
exists. To quicken such interest is a worthy object.’

In June he went to Oxford to receive the hon. degree of
D.C.L. from his old University, an addition to his many
academic distinctions which he much valued. |

The chance reading of Mr. P. T. Forsyth’s book ‘ Religion
and Recent Art,’ had given him a desire to go to the Wagner
Festival at Bayreuth, and we went there at the end of July
with his sister, our eldest daughter and Miss Dorothy Ward.
He was much amused at the whole experience, and enjoyed the
operas very muchatthetime. But the more he thought about
Wagner, the more doubtful he became about the value of his
art. Hewrote to a niece who was staying at Dresden in
1900 :

‘The attempt to make old legends tell all sorts of great
truths by means of musical motives seems to me quite silly.
If I want great truths, I do not find them expressed by music.
Really Wagner’s music is too exciting. The end of music is
to soothe, to calm, to give repose. Wagner does the contrary.
Many people have told me that his music always makes them
feel wicked. I can understand what they mean. ... I seem
to be giving you a lecture on a subject which I imperfectly
understand. Like Wagner as much as you like, but like

other people also. . . . It was at Dresden in 1867 that I first
got to know his music. . . . At that time Wagner was thought
a lunatic; now he is adored, so wags the world. ... The

musical drama is impossible. Music may express feelings,
but it cannot carry on action.’

His real love was for the old composers, Palestrina, Bach,
Handel, and of course Beethoven. When he was at home in
the evenings, he generally asked his daughter to sing to him,
and though he enjoyed the more modern German songs, he
was most pleased when she sang old Italian airs. It was
not often that he could be persuaded to go to a concert,
but when he did go he delighted in good orchestral or
chamber music.

It was in this year that the Church Historical Society was
founded. The idea originated with a few men in London,
Dr. G. F. Browne (then Bishop of Stepney), Canon Gore,
Canon Mason, the Rev. W. E. Collins and the Rev. S. Phillips.

VOL, II. H

98 LIFE AT PETERBOROUGH 1894

The object of the society was to study special points touch-
ing the history and position of the Church of England, to
spread information and to repel attacks. The Bishop was
its first President, and he held that office till his death. He
attended the first meeting in connexion with the society in
September and always took much interest in its quiet and
useful work. He spoke at its meetings, and allowed several
of his papers on questions connected with Church history to
be published by it.

In the autumn he went to Exeter for the Church Congress
and preached in the Cathedral on the Sunday before the
Congress. During the week he spoke at the Free and Open
Church meeting, at a meeting for the Church House, opened a
Home for Waifs and Strays, read a paper at the congress on
‘Cathedrals in relation to the Cathedral City, the Diocese and
the Church at large,’ besides speaking to a great meeting of
working men and women. This speech is a good example
of his method on such occasions. He began with remarking
that the kind of life he had to lead made him an
observer of advertisements, and that he found it a help to be
met at every turn by the wise remark ‘ Don’t worry.’ Then
when he had got his audience into good temper with him, he
told them that his object was to try to get them to think
accurately about Church and State. He defined the State as
‘the community which is concerned with the arrangements of
the common life’ and the Church as ‘ the community concerned
with setting forth the principles on which all life rests.’ ‘ Why
should not Church and State exist side by side? For a long
time they did and nobody thought of doubting the necessity
of the arrangement, but then something was discovered that
is called liberty. A good many people nowadays regard
liberty as a kind of fad. I for my part think that liberty is
the most valuable principle which has ever been discovered.’
He showed how the Church could not apply liberty in the
same way as did the State, which allowed the game of
politics to be played like a game of cricket, the two sides
taking turns to be in; the way which had been invented
in order to maintain religious liberty was to have a national
Church and, by the side of it, voluntary religious societies.
He went on to treat of the objections to an Established

5894 +~=«* VISIT TO NORTHUMBERLAND 99

Church, and said that it would not do to point to the example
of the colonies or America. ‘We must stand by what we
have inherited, and it would be the greatest blow to civilisa-
tion not only in England, but in Europe generally, if the
ancient historic land of England abandoned its connexion
with religion.’ Then, as if he had been serious too long, he
enlivened his audience with some anecdotes, and after
answering various reasons given for severing the connexion
between Church and State, he concluded by speaking of the
life and the work of the clergy. ‘Talk about an eight hours
day. Why most of our town clergy regularly work far more
than eight hours every day, they never cease from their work
from the time they get up.’ His last words were to the
women, bidding them rise to a higher conception of their
duties as citizens.

After the congress, he visited the Bishop of Truro and
preached at St Austell’s. Thence we went to Wells, and he
addressed the Church-reading Society at Bath. In the
following week he visited his brother at Carlisle. This was
his first visit to his native city since he had been a bishop;
his fellow-townsmen welcomed him with great pride, and he
preached in the Cathedral to a crowded congregation. We
went next to Newcastle, where he spoke at the diocesan
conference on ‘The Bible and Recent Criticism, and also
at a working-men’s meeting, and thence for a few days’ rest
to stay with Sir Edward Grey at Fallodon, and the Arthur
Lytteltons at Eccles.

To his son Walter ‘The Vicarage, Eccles: November 3, 1894.

‘My dear Walter.—We have been wandering in old
places and seeing old friends at Newcastle and Fallodon.
Newcastle was rather horrid, cold and rainy, and I did
nothing but make speeches, which was a dull occupation. . . .
On Thursday we went to Fallodon. .. . It was a’dull after-
noon, but we floundered to the sea by Newton, and saw it in
a stormy mood. The mud of Northumberland surpasses
even my expectations ; it was awful. Yesterday was a lovely
day: the sun shone and it was quite warm. We went to
Dunstanborough and ate our lunch on the sands. The
colouring of the sea was blue and green and the sands a brilliant
yellow, and everything was as nice as it could be... On
the way back we saw a few people in Embleton and looked

H2

BEDMR Arws ,r [0 ae eee, | eke

100 LIFE AT PETERBOROUGH 1894

into the church, which seemed much smaller than I remem-
bered it to be. Lady Grey from Howick came to tea, and
Lord Grey and Vera came to breakfast this morning. He
was full of Africa, having just returned from a journey to
Bulawayo. They both enjoyed it very much, and he told a
remark of a colonist who, when the ship came into harbour at
London on a foggy morning, looked sadly at the gloomy
weather, and said, “ This isno country for a white man.” Now
we are here after a day’s journey, with the Lytteltons, and go
home on Tuesday. Please do try and work harder and get
out of your form, and tell Cuthbert to screw his head on tighter.’

At Eccles he preached on the Sunday morning and next
day lectured in Manchester on Carthage. Then he went home
to entertain the East Anglian bishops for their annual
meeting at Peterborough, and immediately after that to
Leicester for his autumn visit.

On December 2 he was summoned for the first time to
preach before the Queen at Windsor.

To his niece Winifred Creighton * December 7, 1894,

‘Last Saturday I went to visit the Queen and preach to
her on Sunday. That was exciting, was it not? I arrived
at Windsor Castle about seven on Saturday and was shown
to my room. Then a series of officials came to tell me what
I was todo. At nine I went todinner with the royal house-
hold, the lords and ladies in waiting. It was the Princess
of Wales’s birthday, and all the royal family almost was at
Windsor. After dinner we went into the Queen’s drawing-
room, when she presently came in followed by the royal
family. She is a little old woman, very much crippled in the
legs by rheumatism, walking with a stick, and leaning on her
Indian attendant, who was clad in a turban and a magnificent
Oriental dress. There were the Duchess of York, the Princesses
Victoria and Maud of Wales, &c. ... They sat in a circle
and we sat behind them. Then we had aconcert... the
Queen departed about 11.30 and we presently retired. On
Sunday morning I breakfasted with the household and, at
eleven had to preach in the Queen’s private chapel. It was
rather awful having a congregation of about fifty, with the
Queen and the royalties in a box up above, just opposite the top
of the pulpit. Inthe evening I dined with the Queen. It was
not so awful as I had expected. I sat next Princess Beatrice,
who was very nice. After dinner the Queen sent for me and
we had a little talk in the drawing-room. She has a beautiful

1892 LETTERS 101

voice, and was very nice and friendly. . I have scarcely
been at home since the beginning of October:

After this he was invited every year to Windsor, and each
visit increased not only his loyalty, but his personal affection
and devotion to the Queen.

LETTERS 1892-1894

To Mrs. T. H. Ward =‘ The Palace, Peterborough: February 3, 1892.

‘Dear Mary,—I have been reading “ David Grieve ” with
the greatest interest, and congratulate you most cordially on
it. It is thoroughly human throughout and sends down many
shafts deep into the recesses of human nature. It has con-
vinced me that you are quite right in writing novels, and that
you areenriching English literature with a new mode of express-
ing profound truths in a simple and attractive form. You have
given an imaginative expression of many of the great problems
of modern life with great subtlety and refined analysis. I
think that “ David Grieve” will never be forgotten, but will
have a place in literature as a typical book of all that is best
in the endeavours and feelings of our day.

‘My interest in you will allow me to say that I think the
advance on “ Robert Elsmere” isenormous. That is the thing
which strikes me at every page. I say this not because I
depreciate the former book, but because there is no testimony
which can more rejoice the true artist than the testimony to
artistic growth. The characters are much stronger, the
realisation is much more complete. All the people in “ David”
are real people, not types but realities. One feels that one
has no right to criticise their actions: they did so, and in so
.doing acted up to the law of their being. All the sub-
sidiary scenes are profoundly true, none more touching than
old Margaret Dawson in her dotage. Then there is sucha
sense of reserved power about the book, that one surrenders
oneself at once. The conception of the book is noble; the
development is natural and truthful ; the results are inevitable.
WhatcanIsay more? Criticism of minor points is disarmed ;
it is not worth while.

‘Two things only I wish to say, though with great
deference. The reason why I set David above Robert is
because the intellectual side of things is subordinate to the
purely human. Tendency is a foe to art; and the exact form
of repose which David found for his soul is his own concern.
I am glad that it was such a good one. But there are
passages in his “diary” which were written by Mrs. Ward

102 _ LIFE AT PETERBOROUGH 1892

and not by himself, and diaries are very dangerous things in
novels

‘Then David’s power of assimilating knowledge is really
too rapid. Men can rapidly develop capacities and display
a power of mastering ideas. But they cannot in the midst of
a practical life rapidly become acquainted with the literary
form of ideas. The conception of the historical growth of
ideas is the last that a self-made man would arrive at. I
think David is too educated. In the constructive part of the
book you have kept your own literary knowledge well in the
background : but here and there it breaks out, and finds ex-
pression in the language of definite criticism. You are quite
strong enough to do without it. I only wish to point out a
temptation which you will be greater if you resist.

‘But I feel that I have no right even to do this. The
book fills me with nothing but admiration, and it will be of
great service to all the best interests of humanity,

‘Yours always affectionately,
‘M. PETRIBURG.’

To a former Newnham student —* Peterborough : March 16, 1892.

‘I can assure you that, whatever your self may be to you,
it is one of the least unpleasant things that I know,and I am
always glad to hear about it. I can only say go on and
prosper. The impulse will come some day.

‘But on one point I should like to console you. I feel
prayer always difficult, not nearly so much of a refreshment
as I hoped. I do not seem to improve in keeping my atten-
tion, and my thoughts continually wander. But, after all, the
value of prayer lies in the intention, and we must only deplore
our inadequate performance. The essential point is the readi-
ness to submit to God’s guidance, and the sincere wish not to
keep one’s life outside of His ken. That we can do: there
may not be given to us the power of continued contempla-
tion and communing. There are different gifts : we can only
give what we have, and ask that our store may. be increased.

‘I think, however, that there is a tendency to use unreal
language about prayer, and to apply what is true of moments
of great intensity of feeling to the ordinary performance of our
daily duties. Life was not given for prayer, but prayer for life.

He prayeth best who loveth best
All things both great and small ;
For the great God who loveth us
He made and loveth all.
Write to me again some day, and believe me,
‘Yours always,
‘M. PETRIBURG.’

1892 LETTERS 103

To Lady Grey ‘ Peterborough: August 25, 1892.

‘My dear Dorothy,—I will not inflict a letter upon
Edward, that would be unkind. But I should like to tell you
how I am interested in his political progress! He has had
real good fortune, for he is not bound to mix himself up with
the claptrap which is mistaken for politics, but is concerned
with the real thing. For politics really consist in foreign
politics. In internal matters Parliament can only register
popular demand: and as statesmen have left off attempting
to direct and form popular opinion, their skill consists in
dragging into the foreground something which they think
will suit their game. But in foreign affairs it is not so.
Problems are set and have to be solved by wisdom. The
future of England very little depends on internal changes.
But the whole of the artificial basis of English life depends
on England’s foreign relationships, and he who maintains
them wisely will be seen to be the truest patriot. Therefore
I rejoice that Edward has a worthy task, in which he need
not sacrifice integrity, which it is so hard to maintain nowa-
days. I do not mean that is harder now than at any other
time; but men are more conscious now than of old of the
sacrifice, and suffer more in consequence. But this is prosy.

‘You will miss your quiet; you will become magnificent
Remember that if at any time you want to come to a place
where no one will talk politics, this place is open. We never
talk politics here.’

To Bishop Mitchinson * Peterborough: February 23, 1893.

‘Dear Bishop,—...I have sent on to you the rural
deanery scheme from the Ecclesiastical Commissioners. They
_taise two points. ... But their questions about names show
a stupidity which is alarming. I must really send them a
memorandum on the subject.

‘(1) The termination “-tun,” “-ton,” “-town” is intel-
ligible ; ignorant people in later times made a termination
“stone,” which is absurd. I do not know who the historic
“ Sib” was; but you assuredly live in the town which he and
his men founded,? hard by the similar settlement of one
Ather. But what kind of a stone would deserve the epithet
of “Sib” or “Ather” I must leave geologists to determine ;
and what the meaning of these epithets could be no man
could say.

‘(2) The older form of the English genitive was “-es,”

* Sir Edward Grey had been appointed Under-Secretary for Foreign Affairs.
* Bishop Mitchinson was rector of Sibstone.

104 LIFE AT PETERBOROUGH 1893

the more recent “’s” : there is [no] difference between Elmes-
thorpe and Elmsthorpe: both mean Elm’s village, and per-
haps the elm was the tribal token.

‘To think that clerks should solemnly sit and refer to
previous lists as of value about such things !

‘Pardon my outbursts. But it is a magnificent instance
of bureaucracy without intelligence.’

To Mr. Horatio F. Brown * Peterborough: April 8, 1893.

‘Dear Brown,—I have delayed in thanking you for your
book on “ Venice.” + The reason was that I sat down to read
it, but have been so often called away by business that I have
only just finished it. This fact, however, makes my thanks
more genuine when they do come. You have succeeded
remarkably in getting at the essentials of your subject. And
how hard a subject itis! Venice is a Kultur Stadt; yet its
Kultur is not obvious in its history. The impression which
it produced on Europe in the days of its greatness is not the
same as the impression which it now makes on the modern
mind. Its zsthetic appeal is not, as in the case of Florence,
intimately associated with the events of its past history.
Nor does its history as such harmonise with modern concep-
tions. Like its site, Venice lies remote from the rest of
Europe, and it owes its charm now to the same cause as it
owed its greatness in the past. This point you have made
clear for the first time to English readers. You have made
Venice intelligible: could more be done? Your book will
be indispensable to anyone who really wishes to know. . .

To the Rev. W. H. Carnegie, Rector of Great Witley
‘Peterborough : April 28, 1893.

‘Dear Carnegie,—I have been away confirming and had
not time to write a letter before. But I quite agree with the
main lines of your book.? I think the Zz#e will mislead some,
but titles are very difficult.

‘Your main position that a certain mental attitude is
necessary for understanding any subject isindisputable. The
Agnostic position seems to me eminently unreasonable. It
is that of one who, having paid no heed to music, goes to a
concert and calls it “an ugly noise.” The general view about
religion seems to be, that everyone should form his character,
or allow it to be formed, by circumstances : then, with a mind
so constituted and a character so moulded, he suddenly turns
his attention to religion and says: “There is very little in it.
It does not appeal Zo me.” How could it?

1 Venice: an Historical Sketch. 3 Through Conversion to the Creed.

1893 LETTERS 105,

‘Further, people’s ideas about the nature of evidence are
very vague. One of my clergy told me that he was at dinner
with an eminent lawyer who said : “ I go to church and bring
up my children as Christians ; but I am bound to say there
is not so much evidence for it as would hang a man.” But
the evidence necessary to hang a man is far beyond that on
which we act for any practical venture of our own. Did he
have as much evidence of the character of his wife before he
‘married her as would suffice to hang a man?

‘The question always comes : What is the starting point?
What do you expect? There is in popular talk very little
correspondence between what people demand from God and
what He has promised to give.

‘Forgive these rambling remarks.’

To Mr. Robert Bridges ‘ Peterborough: October 9, 1893.

‘Dear Bridges,—I have already wiped off the reproach
with which you upbraided me. About a month ago I spent
a Sunday at Brixworth, which is certainly one of the most
interesting buildings in England. I do not know another
which has gone through so many transformations. But all
old buildings raise questions which are perplexing. Brix-
worth is unknown in early times; it is not ona Roman road ;
why had it a basilica of that size? I could not gain much
information about other Roman remains in the neighbourhood.
It is a proof how little has been done for a survey of Roman
Britain. I wish some society could be formed to work at
that subject in various localities.

‘But this is an old scheme of mine, which I want to float
some day.’

To the Rev. R. S. Baker, rector of Hargrave «December 9, 1893.

‘Dear Mr. Baker,—I have read your book! with great
pleasure, and quite agree with your argument that the
difficulties of unbelief are at least as great as those of belief,
and that believers are no stupider than unbelievers. A state-
ment of that position is likely to be extremely useful.

‘Of the three modes of thought which affect the evidences
of Christianity at the present day; you have omitted one.
Natural science and historical criticism have been before you ;
but the study of comparative religion has not. I do not,
however, believe that that line of argument comes before the
ordinary (man) so much as the others; indeed its results are
not yet capable of being formulated.’

! Rationalism Irrational,

106 LIFE AT PETERBOROUGH 1894

In reply to a letter sending him in proof a chapter in
Mr. Lilly’s ‘Claims of Christianity.’

To Mr. W. S. Lilly * The Palace, Peterborough: March 26, 1894.

‘My dear Lilly,—I have been so busy with sermons and
letters that I have (only) just found time to give your pages
the attention which they deserve. Ido not think that I have
any suggestion to make of any importance. Perhaps you have
confined Humanism to Italy, as glorified by Symonds. In
Germany it was more serious as represented by Cusa, Brandt,
Trithemius, and the rest, and the difference which German
scholars felt between themselves and Italians was one of
Luther’s great helps. Again, the papal decadence is un-
doubted in the sphere of politics; but beneath the surface
the Papacy was steadily growing, and the growth of the
Curia is the sign. The very prevalence of immorality was a
help to it ; dispensations, indulgences, and the rest increased
enormously, and a new theology justified them, and supplied
the officials of the Curia with formule. Alexander VI. was
hailed at his coronation as “ semi-deus.”. Humanism supplied
a definition, a category which was wanting; further the
description was accurate, for the indulgence system and the
various functions of the Penitentiary and the Rota gave
the papal power a place in the ordinary life of the
ordinary man. In fact, a man’s soul could scarcely be saved
without the special intervention of the Pope in some shape or
another. These claims and the corresponding system dis-
appeared after Trent, silently and gradually as it had arisen.
Protestant protests, it is generally forgotten, were directed
not against the system defined at Trent, but a previous
system, which it is now difficult to reproduce. Let me give
you aninstance. Bona, widow of Galeazzo Sforza, after her
husband’s murder, submitted a case to the theologians of
Paris, to know if the Pope could give a plenary remission
from Purgatory, posthumously, to one who died impenitent
and was described : “ symonias fecit scandalosas et notorias ;
violavit virgines; scelera infinita, more tyrannorum per-
petravit.” The Paris doctors answered “Yes.” Now the
position of an official on whom was thrust, by general desire,
the power of putting everyone spiritually right, no matter
what they did, was enormous. And it was in the period
called the Renaissance that this grew and prospered. This
rendered the “reform of the Curia,” which is easily pre-
scribed, very difficult. It was not the reform of officials, not
the loss of income, but the difficulty of getting the papal

1894 LETTERS 109

power clear of these outgrowths, which had grown from
popular demand, and of which the abolition would have been
very unpopular.

‘This is wandering, but you say, p. 164, “on the people
at large the Renaissance had hardly any influence.” In
Italian cities it appealed to their eyes; it influenced their
morals, it expressed itself religiously in this way. People
wished to be religious without being moral. Under
Alexander VI. the religious ceremonies of the Pope were
scrupulously attended to; so too under Leo X. There was
no lack of decorum; and there was no popular sense of
discrepancy. The absence of morality is more striking than
the vice—freedom certainly produced strange results. The
work of the Jesuits in re-establishing discipline, as moral, was
certainly very difficult; and they do not deserve the treat-
ment which is often accorded to them. Symonds regards
them as the overthrowers of the Renaissance; but he has
supplied enough evidence that the Renaissance led everything
to destruction—the Church, society, politics. He does not
give his own prescription for the way out of the mess.
Perhaps we cannot entirely approve of either the Lutheran,
the Calvinistic, the Anglican, or the Jesuit solutions of their
problems. But the Renaissance had no solution at all.’

To Mrs. J. R. Green Peterborough : April 21, 1894.
‘My dear Mrs. Green,—Thank you very much for your
book.'! I did not write at once to thank you, because I
wanted to read it first. I have not yet found time to finish it,
as I have been very busy confirming and away from home.
But I am delighted with the book, which is full of new
information, to me at least, and put so clearly that everyone
can take in its significance. To me it is admirable as a key
to the revolutions of the sixteenth century. It reads as if it
were an introduction to this subject. It shows the inner
history of the fifteenth century, of the Wars of the Roses, and
the reconstruction of Henry VII. The corresponding reign
of Louis XII. in France is equally significant of the forces
behind the French monarchy. In fact, one is led on to con-
sider the reconstruction of Europe on commercial and
industrial lines. One sees how the Church was the least
flexible member of society, as such; its landlords were
permanent and resident, and had not the means of entering
into the new conditions. Hence it was an obstacle to the
aspirations of the middle class. I am diverging. All I can

» Town Life in the Fifteenth Century.

108 LIFE AT PETERBOROUGH sigs

say is that your book seems to me to be the worthy successor
of Mr. Green’s work, and carries on his spirit into a detailed
treatment of a particular epoch in a way which is sure to be
fruitful.’ |

To Mr. W. S. Lilly (in reply to a question whether the Bishop knew of any
instance of an indulgence being given for future and uncommitted sin)

‘ Peterborough: September 14, 1894.

‘My dear Lilly—It is hard to assert a negative; but
I should find it hard to believe Reade’s statement. Loescher,
“Reformations-Acta” i. 355, &c., collects all the statements
made at the time against indulgences; but there was no
definite tax, that I know of, for special sins. The poor were
to have them gratzs ; other people were to pay proportionately
to theirincome. Weever, “ Funeral Monuments,” p. clix., gives
a bull of Alexander VI. to England estimating the payments
to be made. The indulgences in Loescher are for involuntary
homicide after the act; it is true that the ground alleged
seems trivial; a stone thrown by accident slew a man, &c.
But I cannot believe that any indulgence bore on the face of
it that it was ‘pro peccatis commissis vel committendis.’ Of
course it might be said that an indulgence to be used after
confession 7 articulo moriis practically gave spiritual immunity
for a sin which a man had the intention of committing at the
time when he procured the indulgence. But this raises the
whole question.

‘We shall know shortly all that can be known about
indulgences. Mr. H. C. Lea of Philadelphia is bringing out
a book on the subject. He is the man who knows most of
any living man about the institutes of the medizval Church.
But he groans to me in letters over the difficulty of appre-
hending this most slippery subject.’

To the Rev. G. Bell (Headmaster of Marlborough College)
‘ The Palace, Peterborough : January 24, 1894.

‘Dear Bell,—Thank you very much for finding time to
write and tell me of Cuthbert’s promotion. It will be good
for him to be in the sixth, and I hope he may make a spurt.
He has been growing so much lately that his vigour may now
be free for intellectual purposes.

‘But I find it very hard to know what is the ideal of
a boy’s development at present. I feel that an unconscious
change is passing over our educational system, so that its
external marks no longer correspond as they once did to the
facts of life. I mean that in our university days we could say
that success at the university meant success afterwards. But

1894 LETTERS 109

this isnolonger the case. Life itself is the great educator ; and
character becomes daily more important than attainments.
As educational methods have improved their value has grown
smaller. I find myself choosing men for posts solely with
regard to their proved capacity ; and I am struck by the small
connexion between that and their university distinction. It
used not to be so; the two used to be closely connected.
I cannot quite account for the difference. Perhaps you may
have an answer.

‘ As regards Cuthbert, all I can do is to point out to him
that his future is in his own hands. As regards the influence
of Marlborough on his character, I think it has been entirely
good. You will in time consider which university he should
go to. I have no preference. I should like him to get a
scholarship, if possible, as a stimulus; but that must depend.’

‘ August 6, 1894.
‘One’s children . . . do not turn out asoneexpected...
Systems of education and ways of dealing with them seem to
me to contribute very little to anyone’s development—
positively that is, negatively they have their value. Every-
body has to make himself, and how to fix on him the sense of
responsibility is a difficult, indeed an insoluble, question. .. .
Some will learn from the discipline of schools; others need
the sterner discipline of life. Itis always the same story ; the

enjoyment of the present obscures the issues of the future.’

To Miss Helen Bell (on her engagement)
‘The Palace, Peterborough: August 28, 1894.

‘My dear Helen,—Your news arrived yesterday just as
I was leaving home for a hard day’s work. I take the first
opportunity of sending you my congratulations. I am very
glad. It seldom happens that one knows both sides; gene-
rally one has to express one’s satisfaction with faith. But
now I know and can say that nothing could be better.

‘Well, all I can say is, may you be very happy; and
there is all probability that such you will be.

‘But letters of any kind are dull reading at such a time.
The heart, stirred with emotion unfelt before, becomes con-
scious of a new revelation of itself and its capacities, of life
and its meaning. The stimulus of seeing another heart open
before it fills it with feelings far beyond the power of expres-
sion. The deep is broken up, and new worlds come into
sight. The time of an engagement is a time when one is a
bore to other people, because one is soaring beyond and
above the ordinary sphere. Treasure your visions, they will

110 LIFE AT PETERBOROUGH 1894

be useful to you. None of them is a mere dream; they are
eternally true. All that we have ever seen is real: alas, that
we do not see it always.

‘Iam moralising; but the old are glad to renew their
youth ; and their sympathy is sincere because it comes from
reminiscence.’

To his daughter Lucia at Newnham College
‘ Farnham Castle: October 16, 1894.

‘I am deeply interested in all that befalls you at Newn-
ham, your pursuits, your friends and everything. ... You
will find out lots of things about yourself from intercourse
with others, and from unwrapping your own mind. There-
fore, if it is a bore to you at first in some ways, never mind ;
you will see what comes—and will learn to put yourself by
the side of others.

‘We have been gadding about till I am aweary....
Yesterday I helped to consecrate two: bishops, and came off
here in the evening. We have Mr. Labouchere staying: he
is very nice, only he makes me talk and smoke too much.
He is quite excellent to talk to about politics, because he has
no illusions.’

To Mr. Edmund Gosse ‘ Peterborough: October 24, 1894.

‘Thank you much for your poems, ‘ In Russet and Silver ;’
they touch a note that vibrates much in me—the subdued
gloom of middle age. This has not yet had its poet: yet
surely its experiences and aspirations deserve a record which
you have given with feeling which entrances. I read and
meditated yesterday in a railway train to my great solace, and
I am just going away again, and shall finish the book to-day.
It was very good of you to send it me. It is a memory of
old times which are never forgotten. Every year of mechanic
labour makes the expansiveness of earlier days more
precious.’

To his daughter Lucia
‘ Scotby, Carlisle: October 29, 1894.

‘.... I suppose you are busy between lectures and
society. I am glad that you enjoy your lectures. Try to
read all the Domesday you can: it is most useful to get to
understand old documents. It is merely a matter of a little
time and practice, and the result is worth getting. Gwatkin’s
lectures will make you think, and so will Seeley’s: only
Seeley’s will probably make you think differently from him—
I do not know that history can be limited to politics. The

1854 LETTERS 111

Greek word iorop/a means enguzry, and history is properly any
enquiry into the past. Of course our curiosity is about
different things at different times. But we want to find in
any period what was most important in it: and we want also
to bring it into some relation to ourselves at present.
Politics, | suppose, means the organisation of society by the
State : but we often want to know more than that; literature,
art, ideas, religion, all have their place, and some periods are
entirely engaged with them. Of course all these things pass
into society, but we cannot find them always in government
or in matters relating to government. I think history is con-
cerned with what men did and thought, just as much as how
they were governed ; and I do not like any arbitrary limita-
tions. Of course a man may say that political history is
the chief thing: it is certainly the most difficult, and needs
most working.’
* November 14.

‘I see that you are like everybody else, complaining of
your memory. It does not matter reading books and for-
getting them: you do not forget so much as you suppose.
Don’t read your books as books, but as illustrating a sudjecz.
Make notes on the subject, and regard that every book you
read fills up something, gives you some new ideas, makes the
process more intelligible. Kemember that men in history
were human beings like yourself, and acted from the same
motives. Gregory of Tours is very good to read, for he is so
far away, and there is so little of him that you are thrown upon
your imagination and your intelligence to make out what
happened. This is just the opposite of Professor Seeley’s
method of analysing methods of government. One begins at
the top, and the other at the bottom : one with the institutions
in the abstract, the other with the men. Good-bye: I have
two speeches to prepare. God bless you.’

To Mr. Edmund Gosse ‘ Leicester: November 19, 1894.

‘Your paper on Pater seems to me admirable. It deli-
cately touches his chief characteristics. I have only suggested
one or two pedantic alterations for academical accuracy.
Your pages suggest to me many reminiscences, as, how Pater
when he travelled with his sisters always left a place if anyone
staying in the hotel spoke to him ; how in quite early days |
remember dining with him, and Bonamy Price was there:
conversation turned on ecclesiastical matters, and Pater
passed on to a dreamy monologue about the beauty of the
reserved Sacrament in Roman churches which “gave them

112 LIFE AT PETERBOROUGH 1894

all the sentiment of a house where lay a dead friend.” Bonamy
Price’s Protestantism was aroused and a theological discussion
ensued which waxed so warm that I suggested a retreat to
the drawing-room. This was in 1873, and proves that Pater’s
interest in ecclesiastical matters was never dead. Again I
remember Pater interposing in a serious discussion in common
room at B. N. C. about university reform by saying “I do
not know what your object is; at present the undergraduate
is a child of nature: he grows up like a wild rose in a country
lane: you want to turn him into a turnip, rob him of all grace,
and plant him out in rows.” Again at our examination for
scholarships he undertook to look over the English Essays :
when we met to compare marks, Pater had none: he said
languidly, “ They did not much impress me.” He was asked
to give his impressions, and the names were read out in
alphabetical order. Pater shook his head sadly as each was
read, and said dreamily, “I do not recall him,” “He did not
strike me,” and so on. At last the reader came to the name
of Sanctuary, on which Pater’s face lit up, and he said, “ Yes :
I remember: I liked his name.”

‘I make you a depository of these reminiscences which
your paper has recalled. It was always a sorrow to me that
I never saw much of him after leaving Oxford. He would
never go and stay anywhere.’

CHAPTER I[V

THE STRIKE IN THE BOOT AND SHOE TRADE

AFTER all that he had heard about the prevalence of Dissent
and of the most advanced forms of rationalistic thought in
Leicester and Northampton, the Bishop was agreeably
surprised to find how much vigorous Church life there was in
both places. It seemed to him that opposition had been
useful, that it had obliged men to think things out, and to
give their best energies in support of the cause which they had
made their own. But the growth of Leicester especially had
been so rapid as to outstrip all religious energies. There was
no room for animosity between Church and Dissent. How-
ever much each might do, it seemed impossible to supply the
spiritual needs of the growing population. The Bishop’s
relations with nonconformists were most friendly. He was
ready to appreciate their work, and to dwell on that foundation
of faith common to all Christians, but he did not minimise
differences, and was never concerned with any question of
reunion ; he did not believe it to be a practical question. To
him the important thing was that men should try to under-
stand one another, and to wc-k together as far as possible.
He wrote: ‘I should say that we can join all men in work
which is hortative or preventive ; when the subject is edifying
we must do it on our own lines.’ Canon Stocks, his Rural
Dean at Leicester, writes :

‘ His relations to nonconformists in what has been called
the metropolis of nonconformity were thoroughly healthy. No
leader of opinion in the Church of England could be more
honest in maintaining on certain questions a conviction or a
policy contrary to those commonly received and held amongst
nonconformists. This was notably the case on the education
question. Yet he won their respect and regard, and where
they differed from him it was never his manner of maintaining
what he held to be the true position which repelled.

VOL. IL. I

114 STRIKE IN THE BOOT AND SHOE TRADE 1893

His habit always was to take people as he found them,
and to meet them on those points on which he could under-
stand them or sympathise with them. Then, when a friendly
relation had been established, he could, if he thought well,
proceed further.

This habit helped him much in Leicester and North-
ampton. Both places were aggressively Radical in politics,
and it was a common idea that Churchman and Tory were
convertible terms. Probably no one in either place ever
succeeded in defining the Bishop’s politics. The split in
the Liberal party over Home Rule had made him less of a
party politician than ever; whilst his office of itself lifted him
above the necessity of belonging to any political party, and
this fitted in with the natural tendency of his mind. Heused
to ignore party politics and treat political questions, if he
touched them, sometimes from the historical side, sometimes
from a wide national point of view. It was impossible either
for thé intelligent working-men or the hard-headed business
men of Leicester and Northampton not to recognise his
absolute freedom from prejudice, the frank openness of his
mind, the width and comprehensiveness of his ideas, or to
fail to be inspired by his genuine love for the people and
desire for their welfare. With the leading business men he
got on all the better because of his genuine appreciation of
their capacities. He was sometimes sadly conscious of the
overwhelming importance attached to material things and of
the want of culture in a place so new as Leicester ; and this
made him eager to do all he could to promote the higher
interests of the city. He was ready to help in every
educational scheme, and always willing himself to lecture
either to the Literary and Philosophical Institute, or to the
Co-operative Society, or to other organisations of working
men. He never avoided plain speaking, either about the
failings or duties of his hearers, and he always tried to lead
working-men to understand the real meaning of the Church,
and what the existence of an Established Church did for the
nation. His bits of practical advice were calculated to stick
in men’s minds. He told his audience at a working-men’s
meeting held at the Folkestone Church Congress, that
their duty as members of Christ’s Church was to take

1893 ADDRESSES TO WORKING MEN 115

their children to church on Sunday and sit beside them;
to help their clergy, to feel towards them as if they could
slap them on the back; to carry their religion into the
workshop. ‘ You know,’ he said, ‘ that we have a crook in our
arm. Why was it given to us? It was given to us that we
might put it through the arm of another fellow and guide
him on the straight way.’ The stories he told, the illustrations
which enlivened his speeches, showed how intimately he knew
the life of the working classes. When speaking in his own
Diocese, he always tried to get his audience to feel the
personal bond between him and them. To a meeting of
working-men held at the time of the Leicester Diocesan
Conference in 1893, he said, ‘Though I already have many
friends among you, I shall never be satisfied until many of
you stop me in the streets, shake me by the hand, and tell
me how you are getting on at home, how the missus is and
the children.’ As often as he could, he visited some factory
or workshop, and was ready to address the men at their
dinner hour, and to try to understand all about the
conditions of their work.

In 1893, with the Bishop’s approval, the Leicester clergy
got up acourse of addresses on ‘ The Church and Economics’
in St. Martin’s Church on Sunday afternoons, followed on the
same evening by a conference in the schools on the subject
of the afternoon’s address, at which the preacher might be
questioned. The Bishop was to give the first address, and it
was suggested that he should be spared the evening’s
conference. To this he would not agree.

To the Rev. H. Orford ‘ August 30, 1893.

‘I am quite with you and Sanders, and will help you as
faras I can. I could come on January 7, but I feel that I
ought not to wish to escape being “ heckled,” and if I came, I
would go to the meeting also. Suppose my subject was
called “ The Gospel and Society ”»—I would be quite general
and would try and point out the limits within which the
Church can actively influence matters.’

In his address he showed how the spirit of Christianity
had always led to the ‘fullest recognition of the equal
duties and of the equal rights of all men; equal duties first,

12

116 STRIKE IN THE BOOT AND SHOE TRADE 1893

and equal rights following in the second place.’ In the
discussions after these addresses men of all kinds of opinions
joined, but it proved possible to maintain courtesy and good
feeling. Of course no definite results were attained, but the
bringing together of men of such widely different views, and
getting them to treat one another with mutual considera-
tion, could not fail to be productive of a better understanding.
The Bishop’s appearance at such a discussion, and the way in
which he took part in it, did much to win for him the con-
fidence of the Leicester working-men.

When he was appointed to London in 1896, he received
a letter from a man then working as headmaster of a small
Church school in London showing the effect produced by his
address on this last occasion :

‘I had been a doubter in religious matters . . . but the
barrenness of scepticism began to make itself felt, and I was
eagerly watching for some guide to give me some rational
basis on which I might once more plant my early faith. I
was in the congregation at St. Martin’s when you preached
the first of a series of sermons on industrial questions. That
sermon, or rather your Lordship’s personality, was the turning-
point for me. From then until spring in last year I did not
miss ever hearing you when you came to Leicester. Hence
my indebtedness to your Lordship. I have many times
wished to be able to thank you.’

The winter recreation of Leicester is football, and the Satur-
day half-holiday is spent by very many of the inhabitants
either in playing or watching the game, whilst the great
roar made by the cheers and shouts of the interested crowd
penetrates to every part of the town. The Bishop showed
his sympathy with the amusements of the people by con-
senting to preach at a service held on April 8, 1894, at
St. Martin’s Church, Leicester, for the members of the football
clubs. He spoke to them of what the Incarnation teaches as
to the nature of the body and the real unity of life, and said
that, just as their bodies needed refreshment on Saturdays
after the monotony of the week’s work, so did their souls need
refreshment on Sundays; the training, the discipline, the
recreation that was necessary for the health of their bodies
was necessary also for the health of their souls. The struggle

1894 SERMON TO THE ODDFELLOWS 117

after greater dexterity in the football field was a parable of
the course of their spiritual life. At football, faculties were
called out for which their ordinary life offered no scope, and
in the short, sharp struggle there came to them something like
a revelation of new faculties, some better, some worse. So all
life was a revelation. They would constantly find themselves
called upon to do things they had never dreamt of, and that
call would reveal to them new capacities.

Already at Embleton he had shown his interest in
friendly societies by becoming an Oddfellow, and when
in 1894 the Oddfellows held their annual gathering at
Northampton, he preached at the church parade. He
reminded them that nothing outside themselves could bring
the peace for which all men long. Men want God’s gifts,
but will not seek them in God’s way :

‘How can you expect the nation as a whole to keep
peace if in trade disputes you will not show a peaceful temper
and try to settle your disputes in peaceful ways; if you are
unable to discuss political questions soberly and in a fair-
minded way? A great responsibility attaches to all those who
meddle with politics ; their temper of mind, the nature of the
arguments they use, have a tremendous influence. How
dangerous is the temper of mind which misrepresents
opponents, falsifies issues, is full of prejudice, treats great
questions with levity, refuses to be guided by the evidence
before it. . . . Unless you get rid of that temper in your own
small affairs, and practise yourselves in conducting your own
business with sobriety and open-mindedness, you are not doing
your utmost to make this a peace-loving nation. . . . Your
deliberations will disclose differences of opinion : it is good to
have them, but the way in which he approaches differences of
opinion is a great test of a man. No self-restraint is so
valuable as that involved in listening to opinions with which
you do not agree, until it dawns upon you that there are
stores of hidden wisdom which you do not know, that it is
possible that your way is not the only way, even that it
may not be the right way.’

On many other occasions also he preached at the church
parades of friendly societies. He showed constant interest
as well in the different co-operative societies, especially
in their educational work. In the autumn of 1894 he was
asked to address the Loughborough Liberal Club, and chose

118 STRIKE IN THE BOOT AND SHOE TRADE 1804

as his subject, ‘ Some Principles affecting Social Legislation.’
Mr. Johnson Ferguson, M.P., was in the chair, and said that
in the twenty-three years of his political life he had never
presided at a meeting in a political club which was addressed
by a bishop. In his speech the Bishop said that all would
understand that it was in no political spirit that he was
present with them, and that he was glad that they should
wish sometimes to hear questions discussed on their own
merits apart from their political bearing. He tried to get his
hearers to realise the complexity of social problems; they
were not problems to which an answer could be worked out.
‘You cannot get things clear because you want them to be
clear, nor get an answer to a question simply because you try
to work it out as you would a sum in arithmetic.’ He spoke
of their individual responsibility. ‘At the present day
England is carrying the burdens of civilisation upon its
shoulders, and the great question before Englishmen is, “ Will
the shoulders of England continue to be strong enough to
bear these burdens?” The strength of England depends upon
the collective wisdom and capacity for judgment of its citizens.
That wisdom and judgment you can only gain after a sober
survey of actual facts, which you must judge with reference
to things actually before you, without being carried away by
dreams or visions. He told them that he thought they
attached too much importance to legislation. ‘A law is the
expression of the will of the community. . . . Therecan be no
law if there are many people determined to break it ... no
advantages can be gained by legislation which leaves any
considerable body of the community with a sense of injustice.’
In conclusion he stated that ‘the main social problems of the
day were the more equal distribution of the profits of produc-
tion, and the better organisation of labour; these two things
concern not only the men but the masters, the positions of
the two are not really antagonistic ... real progress can
only come about by an absolutely good understanding
between them. They ought constantly to meet in order to
discuss matters of equal interest to both.’ His advice to the
working-men was to strive not so much for higher wages as
for regular employment. ‘Common effort, with strict respect
for justice, mutual regard for all, and that common sense

iad aa al

1895 THE CLERGY AND SOCIAL PROBLEMS 11g

which had made England what it was, would enable them to
solve the problems before them.’

He ever tried to get men to see the connexion between
their religion and their ordinary life of social and economic
activity, and therefore willingly brought before the clergy
in the chief towns of his diocese the proposal made by the
London Reform Union to observe one Sunday in the year as
Reform or Citizen Sunday, and to preach to their people about
a citizen’s duties. His suggestion—for he naturally did not
allow it to take any other form—was very generally acted
upon. But when he left Peterborough the custom dropped
to be revived some years later by the Mayor of Leicester.

When in 1894 he delivered his Primary Charge, he gave
that part of it which dealt with social problems at Leicester,
and spoke of the way in which the clergy might help in
dealing with these problems :

‘The clergy are, as a rule, from the mere nature of their
vocations, the class in the community which is least versed in
business affairs. They are little suited as a body to decide
economic questions. . . . I believe that what men of all kinds
of opinion would all join in advising [them to aim at] is bene-
volent neutrality in trade disputes, constant helpfulness in
alleviating inevitable distress, outspoken criticism of all
unfairness, and unswerving maintenance of the great principle
of justice. ... I would urge my brethren to learn all that
they can of the actual facts of the occupations of those
amongst whom they labour, to discover their aims, and to
apply to all impartially the tests of Christian morality. The
great need of our day is that all human relationships should
be first moralised and then spiritualised.’ ?

An opportunity soon came for him to put his views into
practice, and show how his efforts to understand the lives
-and interests of both masters and men, and to give them at
all times his sympathy and friendship, had won their confidence.
Early in 1895, there were rumours of disputes in the boot
and shoe trade. The Bishop was in Italy in February and
the early part of March, and returned just before lock-out
notices were issued by the Manufacturers’ Federation, by
which 120,000 people were thrown out of work. Leicester
and Northampton were the places chiefly affected. The

1 The Church and the Nation, p. 57.

120 STRIKE IN THE BOOT AND SHOE TRADE 1895

clergy and other ministers of religion had, some little time
before, issued an appeal to both sides in the contest, implor-
ing them to give the matter further consideration before taking
irrevocable steps; but with no avail. The Bishop wrote to
Canon Stocks immediately on his return :

| * March 18, 1895.

‘ The strike is very grievous. The “ Times” article to-day
gives a fair account of the difficulties, I take it. Your
memorial was excellent and will bear fruit. But one feels
that there must be some time before a basis of agreement
emerges. The gravity of the crisis, the pressure of public
opinion, must tell on both sides ; they must be compelled to
formulate their demands. If I could be of any use, I need
not say that nothing would stand in my way. But I feel that
some opening ought to be given me if possible. There have
been offers of mediation, I see, from sources which might have
been acceptable. I do not know who would wish to confer
with me. But, if you see a chance, I will place myselfat any-
one’s disposal; though I have nothing to offer except good
intentions and impartiality. I have been thinking if I could
write you a letter for the benefit of the clergy, but for publi-
cation. Butit is difficult, and might be useless. I will think
some more, but am overwhelmed with letters justnow. Iam
inconclusive, I feel : but about such a matter one can only pray
for guidance. I own that asa matter of principle I deprecate
episcopal interference with economic questions. But I am
ready to sink anything for the purpose of helping.’

* Peterborough : March 19, 1895.

‘I enclose you the result of my meditations, and am
sending you copies for distribution among the clergy. Per-
haps you will also send to the local papers.

‘I have had little time for reflection, but I think I have
said nothing which can give offence. I showed it to Clayton,
and he had no objections to raise. It is for us to represent
the moral sense of the public. I hope that my lead may not
be without effects on the language and expressions of others.’

With this he sent the following letter :
* March 18, 1895.
‘My dear Canon Stocks,—I cannot refrain from express-
ing my deep sympathy with my clergy in the sadness which
they must necessarily feel at the industrial dispute now so
seriously affecting the welfare of the community in which
they labour. I am glad to know that all the representatives

1895 CAUSES OF INDUSTRIAL DISPUTES 121

of the Christian religion joined in urging upon employers and
employed the need for serious consideration before they
engaged in strife. Their appeal was not immediately success-
ful; but I trust that the struggle which was held to be in-
evitable will be powerfully influenced by the spirit which
that appeal expressed. It urged three great pleas—the unity
of society, the grave responsibility attaching to any breach
of that unity, and fair and open discussion as the only means
of composing differences. These are truths which ought to
be before the eyes of all men, and they cannot be too strongly
or too persistently set forward. They are principles which
must ultimately prevail.

‘My object in writing to you is to exhort my clergy to
emphasise these truths whenever an opportunity is offered.
Now that the strife has broken out, they must redouble their
efforts for peace, and must not lose courage. I would submit
some considerations for their guidance.

‘The complexity of industrial life raises from time to
time questions of great difficulty to decide fairly. The boot
and shoe industry has passed through several stages, with
exceptional rapidity, during the last few years. It is, ] am
willing to believe, hard for the most fair-minded and best-
informed man to decide with any certainty how it can best
be organised. Industrial disputes always involve matters
about which certain knowledge is almost impossible. They
cannot be explained as due to greed on one side, or ignorance
on the other; and I am glad to think that such causes are
not alleged in this case. But when an industry has passed
through rapid changes, there is uncertainty on one side and
uneasiness on the other. An exact basis of agreement is not
obvious, not through any want of goodwill, but through the
limitations of human foresight. I therefore deprecate any
hasty judgment upon the actual points which are supposed
to be in dispute. It may well be that the statements on both
sides are imperfect ; and they are easily misjudged, because
they deal with details which cannot be understood by them-
selves. We are bound to believe that both sides are sincere,
and are willing to set the general good before their own
advantage. |

‘But we are equally bound to impress upon both parties
that suspension from work is to be regarded as affording
time for a careful examination of the points in dispute, and
a search for a basis of agreement. They could not agree
before because they had not time both to work and to in-
vestigate great questions. They have stopped work without

122 STRIKE IN THE BOOT AND SHOE TRADE 1895.

any ill-feeling towards one another, that they may give their
attention in common to provide for the future. The gravity
of the situation is now before them. They see aH that their
disagreement implies to the rest of the community. They
are responsible for the energy and goodwill which they bring
to the settlement of their differences. The dispute must be
settled, not by an appeal to the brute force of endurance, but
by wisdom and conscience, quickened by a heightened sense
of responsibility. The whole community has a right to de-
mand that no time be wasted by pride or obstinacy. It may
not be able to judge of the particular points of dispute ; but
it can judge, and will eagerly scan, the temper shown in
bringing these points into shape for decision.

‘I think that it is the great duty of the clergy to urge
these great moral considerations, without any spirit of par-
tisanship; to aim at removing hindrances to friendly discus-
sion, to ask day by day what has been done, to discounten-
ance all appeals to passion, to uphold the standard of
justice, to sympathise with every effort for peace.

‘They may do something by their exhortations; they
will do more by their prayers. It is their great duty to bring
to bear upon all things “the mind of Christ.” I trust that
all the churches in the town will be open, and that notices
will be placed at the entrances that they are places for prayer
and meditation in the sight of God. The hours of daily
service should also be clearly stated, and all should be ex-
horted to bring themselves into God’s presence, who alone
can “make men to be of one mind.” I would further ask
that the Prayer for Unity in the Accession Service be said
after the Collects of the Day.

‘Commending you to the grace of God in my prayers,

‘T am, your faithful servant and brother in Christ Jesus,
‘M. PETRIBURG.’

The dispute was more bitter at Leicester than at any
other part of the district affected. At first it seemed hope-
less to try to get the opposing parties to understand one
another. It would not be worth while to explain here the
very intricate and technical points on which the dispute
turned. The Bishop took all possible trouble to under-
stand it, and completely mastered the questions at issue.
But from the first he did not think it would be wise for him
to put himself forward as a mediator. The following letters
show what he tried to do:

1895 LETTERS 123

To the Rev. Canon Stocks ‘ Peterborough: March 24, 1895.

‘There is much to be said for prayer meetings, in any
form, which deal with the need of peace and turn men’s
minds to seek counsel of God. Would a united meeting be
the best? I rather doubt about the wisdom of beginning
with a general appeal. It might be begun humbly in various
districts. I think that all Christians might well combine and
we might see what response it met with. If it were begun,
it should go on daily, be at a suitable hour, and be brief and
quite simple.

‘But if a general appeal were made at once it might fail,
as it might seem to be a demonstration on one side or the
other. What was done simply on a small scale would not
be subjected to criticism; but if a large attempt were made
the language used would be very closely scanned, and every-
one engaged in it would be held responsible for anything
that was said.

‘I have some hopes that the meeting to-day may lead to
some results.

‘Who is Mr. Ward, the head of the Masters’ Federation ?
Is he a Leicester man? Could you approach him at all and
learn if he would welcome a talk over matters? The best
hope is that some impartial person or persons should be a
medium of communication between the respective leaders.
The first practical step is to secure this if possible. Inter-
vention, unless it is welcomed, would only spoil the future
chance, and would count as fussy interference.’

* Peterborough: March 25, 1895.

.... 1 am always meditating about the strike. Mr.
Labouchere has supplied an object lesson: (1) he struck in
too soon; (2) he simplified the matter too much; (3) he
proposed far too much all at once; (4) he was open to the
suspicion of making capital out of the offer for political
purposes ; (5) his proposed board was too large, too political
and not sufficiently impartial He has made the matter
worse, decidedly worse, by his action, and has emphasised the
need of prudence.

‘Now it seems to me that the first thing to settle is the
terms of reference to arbitration. The strike cannot go on
long: it cannot be ended by despair; it must be made to
assume the appearance of a compromise, or an approach to
agreement. Arbitration is inevitable: the question is, what
is it to be about ?

This can only be settled by negotiation, and the negotia-

c

124 STRIKE IN THE BOOT AND SHOE TRADE 1895

tion would be easiest by the appointment of one or two persons
who would let both sides talk the point out, and would simply
offer their services as removing obstacles and keeping the
discussion to the point. It would take some Jittle time and
would need continuous sitting. Could you in any way urge
this? It would be best done privately. Could you see
Mr. Ward either alone or with others. If I could be of any
use, I am always ready: but I do not wish to interfere unless
I am to some degree trusted : and I have no qualities except
average common sense and real impartiality. If I were not
sure that I was impartial, I would abstain. For this prelimi-
nary work the absence of expert knowledge would not matter.
Some sort of conference ought to be set on foot as soon as
possible,

” ©Peterborough: March 28, 1895.

‘I had reasons of my own for thinking that something
was being done towards negotiation. It now appears that
Mr. Labouchere has been finally swept away : and Mr. Ward’s
letter to-day hints at the possibility of negotiations on
another basis. I wish you would see him and ask if my
services would be of any avail,—either now or afterwards.
You would frankly tell him that my sole wish was to be use-
ful as a buffer, that I have no prejudices, and that I have no
axe to grind. He would tell you with equal frankness his
opinion. I will make no public statement of anything about
this : it will be merely private between you and him.’

The Bishop was gratified by receiving the following letter
from the secretary of the Northampton Trades Council :

‘ March 29, 1895.

‘My Lord,—At the monthly meeting of the above Council
held in the Town Hall on Wednesday March 27, the following
resolution, was carried unanimously.

‘ That this Council, representing 9,000 workmen, wishes to
place on record our hearty approval of the action taken by
the Bishop of Peterborough, Mr. Labouchere and others, to
secure a peaceful settlement of the dispute in the boot and
shoe trade by arbitration, and would respectfully urge upon
them the necessity of not resting until their efforts are
successful.

‘The opinion was also freely expressed that any efforts
made by you would in all probability be more successful
than those made by any prominent politician.’

1895 LETTERS a

To the Rev. Canon Stocks ‘Peterborough: March 30, 1895.

* You may have seen that the Trades Council of Northamp-
ton passed a resolution thanking me and Mr. Labouchere for
our efforts after arbitration. But it was sent to me with the
significant remark that the opinion of the meeting was “ that
efforts made by you would in all probability be more success-
ful than those made by any prominent politician.”

‘If this view prevails, the time has come when I may at
least offer my services without presumption. Can you see
some one of the men’s leaders, and discover if they are ready
to confer, on any such lines as I haveindicated? I simply
propose to be a go-between, and prepare for a conference,
which should discuss terms of arbitration.

‘I am giving you a great deal of trouble, but the matter is
one of vital importance. And you will see that any personal
intervention of mine is useless till it is accepted as at all
events harmless. If I were to write, still more if I were to
go, there would be an amount of publicity which would be
dangerous. Things are effective in proportion to the careful
preparation made for them.

‘I go to London to-night to preach at the Chapel Royal
to-morrow, but come back to-morrow night. If you send me
a telegram saying Come, I will come to Leicester on Monday
morning at twelve. Otherwise I shall come anyhow on
Tuesday afternoon. But things now seem to be ripe, and
time ought not to be lost.’

Private * Peterborough: April 1, 1895.

‘Your news is excellent. I have written to Mr. Ward to
ask what hour would suit him on Wednesday. I can now
tell you in deadly confidence that I saw the President of the
Board of Trade and also the chief permanent secretary last
Monday, and discussed with them what they were todo. I
have an inveterate objection to make personal capital out of
this or anything. I put it to the President that he was the
nearest approach to a public representative of the parties
concerned, and that he was to try first. We entirely agreed
about the course of action to be pursued. I have been wait-
ing to hear some sign of results. You see that they are
coming. The next difficulty will be from the side of the
men. The character of their leaders is not of prime import-
ance: it is their reasonableness.’

After this a conference was arranged in London between
Sir Courtenay Boyle, the permanent secretary of the Board
of Trade, and representatives of the men and the masters.

126 STRIKE IN THE BOOT AND SHOE TRADE 1895

The Bishop wrote to Sir Courtenay Boyle from Leicester
to tell him all that he had been able to discover about
the attitude of both sides, in the hopes that his informa-
tion might be of some service at the conference. In thank-
ing him for the letter, Sir Courtenay Boyle wrote: ‘ Your
letter was of very great use. A navigator in a strange sea
highly values a chart.’ They were in constant correspondence
throughout the conference. After the first meetings, which
promised well, Sir Courtenay Boyle wrote:
‘ April 6, 1895.

‘The great hitch yesterday was as regards country work.
The men’s representatives, not without, I imagined, some
doubts in their own minds, protested against the right of the
employers to send out work at all from districts in which
statements were in force.

‘Are you able to tell me whether there is anything in the
agreements which amounts to an honourable or moral con-
tract to give all available work to the men in the district
_affected? If there is not, do you think it would clear the
ground if an authoritative person were consulted on, and
advised on this point? ... I think there is a better tone
than there was. Pray give me any hint that you have
available.’

The Bishop to the Rev. Canon Stocks
Private ‘Peterborough: April 7, 1895.

‘So far so good. The crux now is the country work, on
which I want information. Would you mind seeing Inskip
privately for me, and asking him to tell you his views on this
point? Especially discover :

‘(1) Does he hold that it is contrary to agreements
previously made between men and masters? If so, what?
Would he consent to submit this question to some authorita-
tive person to decide?

‘(2) Do the men really want the finishing work to be
retained in the factory more in the interests of the work-
people actually employed or in the interest of the strength
of their union organisation ?

‘(3) What is the amount of work sent out to the country ?

‘(4) What is the difference in wages for it ?

‘(5) Do they object to it altogether, or would they suggest
its regulation and limitation ?

‘(6) Have they considered the probable effect of its
abolition in bringing more hands into the town?

1895 COUNTRY WORK 127

‘I do not know to what places such work is chiefly sent.
You could ascertain this, and would then write to some
capable incumbent of such a place and ask him to send me
a report of the general effect which the system has on the
village, and the probable results of its abolition. One or two
such men as you think them capable. Ask them to address
to me at the Vicarage, Knighton, at once.

‘If you would send me the result of your inquiries there
I should be glad... . This is for a report to headquarters,
where I am anxious to put the matter fully and fairly.’

To Sir Courtenay Boyle ‘ April 9, 1895.

‘I have been spending most of my time to-day in getting
up the question of country work. The masters are firm that
they can see their way to no compromise. I have tried to
get at the bottom of the matter, and it is generally what I
told you before. The abolition of country work would perfect
the organisation of the Union and leave the masters at the
mercy of the men. This they will never agree to.

‘At present the position of the masters is very strong.
The men are out of their calculations, this is the busiest time
of the year, and they thought the Federation would break up
through the inability of the smaller employers to hold out ;
but (1) the Federation has shown unexpected strength ;
(2) Public opinion has not been enlisted on the men’s side.
The men cannot reasonably expect to win on the country
work. I think they must withdraw; the question is ow?

‘Let me explain, though perhaps you know, the import-
ance of the question, not for the present but for the future.
Shoe-work is divided into three main heads—the clickers who
cut the upper leather, the /asters who make up the shoe into
shape, and the fimzshers. Clickers and finishers need com-
plicated machinery ; but the work of the lasters, though done
by this machinery to some degree, is not absolutely dependent
on it. Simpler machinery that could be used even at home
would suffice. At present the lasting is done in the factories :
but the men know that this is mot absolutely mecessary.
Further the lasters are the representatives of the oldest part
of the transformed industry. Théy have the old traditions
and are strongest in the Union. If the pressure of the Union
was unreasonable, the masters could at a pinch withdraw
some of the lasting to the country. Then the clickers and
the finishers would be dependent on the country workers, and
the strength of the Union would be broken.

‘Both sides see this, and they are fighting with reference

128 STRIKE IN THE BOOT AND SHOE TRADE 189s

to this occult possibility in the future. The present is not
of much moment: not much work goes into the country, and
not much gain is made of it.

‘There is no claim made by the men that masters are
acting contrary to the spirit of previous agreements: it is a
new question, though it has long been simmering, and is now
considered ripe for solution.

‘The work is sent out by carriers and brought back by
them in carts: you will see that it cannot be much if it is so
distributed. The men’s cry, “ Work begun in Leicester to be
finished in Leicester,” is like an attempt to build a great wall
of China, and so be secure. If it were acted on it would also
carry “Work begun in the country to be finished in the
country ”—z.e. that factories should be built in every place
where work was done. This* sounds plausible, but it is
impossible.

‘I had a long talk with the manager of the great factory
of the Co-operative Wholesale, which obeys Union rules, and
pays Union wages. . . . This man is very intelligent, and has
made a visit to the United States to see exactly what the
competition was. He is of opinion that the surest way to
secure lasting agreement would be that each side should
depute two, and they should select an arbiter, who should go
to America and look at things for themselves. He believes
that only so could the workmen understand the conditions
under which English trade has to be carried on.

‘You will see that the difficulty about the country work
is not any actual grievance at present, but is the principle
which underlies it. Only when the men feel they cannot win
will they accept some compromise which leaves the masters’
position practically unchanged. As a master put it to me:
“We cannot bind ourselves always to have all our eggs in
one basket.” Ido not see how they can. Of course some
percentage of country work might be arranged: but this
would be a barren victory for the men.’

To the Rev. Canon Stocks ‘Peterborough: April 15, 1895.
‘I think the masters are now rathertoomuchup. Appar-
ently they claim to decide for themselves what is necessary
for the management of their business, and will not submit
that point in any detail to arbitration. Surely some points
might be submitted. Otherwise their claim deals a blow at
Trades Unionism altogether. The men demand too much :
the masters refuse too much. I am afraid the conference
will break down unless some approach is made to an under-
standing. I have written to very gently. The only

1895 END OF THE STRIKE 129

thing to do is to indicate how things stand. Perhaps, if you
see anyone, you would point out something of the sort.
Opinions only prevail by cautious hints : the combatants learn
from outside opinion.’

To Sir Courtenay Boyle April 17, 1895.

‘ After meditating on your last letter I ventured to write
to to make two suggestions: (1) that the masters
should try to find some definition of management which did
not run too counter to the principles of Zrades Untontsm;
(2) that on no account should the conference be broken off.
I urged the great advantage of keeping it open, and adhering
to the semblance of friendly discussion, however great might
be the provocation to dismiss it.

‘I enclose you his answer. You will see that on the last
point he agrees with me. This is very important, and I hope
it may encourage you to persevere in your arduous and
thankless office.’

To the Rev. H. Orford (then in S. Africa) ‘April 18, 1895.

‘Leicester is altogether rent by the strike, which gives us
all much anxiety, and is still far from an end. The matter is
terribly complicated : the masters are resolute: the men are
unreasonable : I fear the end will be a great deal of damage
to the trade of the place. I struggle to do what I can for
peace, but it is entirely a matter for expert opinion, and good
intentions avail little. I was in Leicester all last week taking
Holy Week services at St. John’s Knighton. Things seemed
to be going fairly well as far as the church is concerned.’

_ The difficulties in the way of a settlement which had at
times seemed insuperable were at last overcome at a prolonged
session of the conference between the representatives of masters
and men, under the presidency of Sir Courtenay Boyle, in
London on April 19.

To the Rev. Canon Stocks ‘Peterborough : April20, 1895.

‘The news to-day is a great relief tous all, and we can now
rejoice in the result, which seems likely to establish much
better relations and to remove all causes of dispute to a
proper tribunal. I think we may congratulate ourselves on
the wise attitude taken by the public generally, and on the
behaviour of the men.

‘You remember that Sanders spoke of celebrating this
then far-off peace by a thanksgiving service. It would be

VOL. II. K

130 STRIKE IN THE BOOT AND SHOE TRADE 1895

a good thing if it were acceptable to those concerned. But
the proposal should seem to emanate from the Mayor and
the service should be municipal. Probably a Sunday after-
noon would be best—next Sunday if possible. The non-
conformists should join: perhaps you would ask one or two
of the ministers their opinion; one of them might read a
lesson. There might be a procession from the municipal
buildings. If men and masters would walk side by side it
would be admirable. I would gladly walk between Ward
and Inskip. But you will see how this can be arranged best,
if indeed it can be arranged at all. I mean that I do not
think a purely ecclesiastical ceremony would be worth much :
that might be done in each church and chapel separately.
I wish it to be, if possible, a united act: unless it is so taken
up, it had better be dropped.’

The Bishop succeeded in keeping his part in helping to
bring about an agreement entirely in the background, and
his action was never referred to by the public press; but
Sir Courtenay Boyle wrote to him: ‘My own efforts were
largely helped by your information and counsel, which
enabled me to see where danger lay and where safety was to
be sought ;’ and one of the oldest of the Leicester clergy,
Canon Vaughan, wrote, ‘ We are rejoicing beyond words to
describe in the prospect of social peace. Rightly or wrongly,
I cannot help tracing your Lordship’s good hand in the
matter, and, as a Leicester man to the core, I most heartily
thank you in the name of Leicester.’ Canon Stocks says:
‘He helped the leaders on both sides to settle the dispute, not
only by being a good listener to the statements of their
different points of view and the arguments in support of them,
but by suggesting at the right moment the method of inter-
vention and the choice of a reference. But the action taken
at the critical moment, with such good result, would have
been impossible if he had not previously in many ways won
at least a certain amount of confidence in many quarters.’

It was impossible not to feel anxious as to how Leiceste1
would calm down and loyally accept the terms of the agree-
ment, but on July 9 the Bishop was able to write to Mr.
Orford, ‘ Leicester since the strike has been going ahead,
steadily making up for lost time.’

Throughout the contest, the Bishop had felt and shown

1895 LECTURES TO WORKING-MEN 131

great sympathy with the men, but he had distrusted their judg-
ment, and had not felt confidence in the wisdom of their
leaders. He understood how industrial questions were
complicated by international competition, and saw the need
for expert knowledge. He felt that the real difficulty was
to get the ordinary man to recognise the value and
importance of that knowledge, or to have any means of
discovering whether it was possessed by the leaders whose
brave words attracted him.

To Mr. Wigham Richardson ‘ May 10, 1895.

‘The boot strike kept me very busy fora long time. I
worked quietly to bring those concerned to the poirt; and
the success exceeded my expectations. The worst of the
position taken up by the English working-man is its entire
insularity. He regards “foreign competition” as a bogy
invented to scare him. I believe that one of the best things
masters could do would be to offer to pay the expenses of
two of the Union leaders to go abroad with two of their own
number and judge for themselves the conditions and results
of the trade they were interested in, on the spots where it
was most threatening to England. Surely a report from them
on this subject would be very sobering to wild speculations.

‘ But this is a large proposal. To return to smaller things,
I am glad to hear that you are all pretty well. We are all
growing older, I suppose, in body, though we need not grow
older inmind. I certainly cannot complain of any temptation
to rust out.’

The Bishop in his frequent lectures to different organisations
of working-men tried to enlarge their minds and train their
judgment by lifting them into a bigger world. His subjects
were generally historical, but they were very varied: the
Armada, Common Sense, Carthage, Benedictine monasteries,
are among them. However remote the subject, he showed its
connexion with modern times by his illustrations and allusions,
and never failed to bring home to his hearers the continuity of
history nor to give them some practical lessons to carry away
He would lecture to the people, says Bishop Thicknesse, ‘in
his best manner, give them information good enough and
conveyed agreeably enough for princes, and when expressions

' Mr. Wigham Richardson writes July 2, 1901, that the suggestion has been

acted on in the engineering trade, and with immensely satisfactory results.
K2

132 STRIKE IN THE BOOT AND SHOE TRADE 1895

and noble conclusions fell from what he was saying, such as were
least expected from a bishop, the faint and almost timid “hear,
hear” that escaped the surprised listener was really as good
asa play. His sympathetic fun and humour got hold of his
hearers through some point in common with them, and enabled
him to establish the power of influencing them. It is
remarkable that I cannot recollect any strong feeling of ob-
jection showing itself in the papers or otherwise against the
Church from anything the Bishop had said on church topics.
His sojourn in the Diocese greatly disarmed the opposition
and won the good-will of the disaffected. As was quite truly
said and answered, “Who were his enemies?” “He had
none,”? .

CHAPTER V
THE CORONATION AT MOSCOW

THE varied work of the year 1894 was a striking manifesta-
tion of the extent and versatility of the Bishop’s powers.
Early in the year the fifth volume of the ‘ History of the
Papacy’ was published, and later on appeared his Hulsean
Lectures and his Primary Charge, perhaps in their different
ways the fullest expression he ever made of his experience,
his thought and the result of his studies. In the course of the
same year he gave 170 different sermons and addresses : he
began one of his most illuminating historical writings, the
Life of Elizabeth, and he made himself known in the London
world by his brilliant speech at the Academy banquet. All
the time the regular work of his diocese was his chief care and
his first thought. He was gaining that understanding of its
social conditions which enabled him to help with such wise
judgment in bringing the dispute in the boot and shoe trade
to a peaceful issue, and was every day winning more completely
the confidence of clergy and laity alike.

Towards the end of 1894, on learning that the proposed
néw Manchester and Sheffield Railway would pass through
much of his diocese, he made arrangements for the care of
the spiritual needs of the navvies.

To the Rev. Canon Stocks * October 22, 1894.

‘Thank you very much for your steps about the Navvies
Mission. Ihave written to my brethren of Oxford, Southwell
and Worcester to suggest that they put me in command of
the whole scheme so far as the clerical superintendent is
concerned. If they agree, then we might have the outlines
of a plan, and all the parishes concerned would fall in.’

‘October 24, 1894.
‘I enclose you letters from the Bishops of Oxford and
Worcester. I have not yet heard from Southwell ... If he

134 THE CORONATION AT MOSCOW 1895

writes like the others, the organisation will be joint, under one
superintendent, whom I will appoint, but who will devise a
working scheme which he will submit to the other bishops,
taking care in each case to make all possible use of the
incumbent, if he is willing to do anything, and respecting his
rights. But the first step is the financial step. This must
be done in each section by a local committee, whose chairmen
may constitute a central committee, over which I am
president. Is that the sort of shape which the whole scheme
may formally assume?’

The work of the mission was satisfactorily organised with
the help of the Navvy Mission Society. The Bishop took
much interest in it, and showed his sense of his indebtedness
to the central society by holding a meeting for it at the
Palace and speaking at its meetings in London.

On January 10, 1895, he took part in the services and meet-
ings held in Trinity Square and in the church of All Hallows,
London, in commemoration of Archbishop Laud. In the
afternoon he gave a lecture in the church on ‘ Laud’s position
in the history of the English Church.’* He said that his
object was not to eulogise Laud, but to explain the task which
he undertook and the difficulties which beset him. He as-
serted Laud’s unfailing claim to the homage of English
churchmen because of what he did to fix the character of the
English Church, but he made no attempt to disguise Laud’s
errors and shortcomings, though he claimed that all might
unite in admiring his zeal, his devotion, his courage, his con-
scientiousness.

Early in 1895 he was invited to Sandringham for the
first time.

To his daughter Lucia
‘In Convocation at London: February 6, 1895,

‘I have not written to you since you went back, which is
very naughty; but I have been busy and feeble. I never
told you of my visit to the Prince of Wales; he was very
genial, and had hosts of men staying there: amongst them
Lord Grey and Dr. Jameson, who administers Mashonaland,
with whom I had many talks about the Mission. He tells
me that the new bishop is quite the right man, with large
experience of the colonists in Africa. I also saw the Duke

' Published in Lectures and Addresses.

1895 JOURNEY TO ROME he

of York’s baby: think of that. The Duke of York is a very
nice youth, full of interest and ready to talk about anything.
. . . Everybody was very nice, but there were too many of
them. I preached a sermon which they seemed to like, in
the church which lies in the park close by. There was deep
snow as we pottered about in the afternoon and looked at
dogs and horses. Since then I have been wandering about
the diocese, doing all sorts of things that have to be done
before I go abroad. Now I am in London sitting in Convo-
cation, where a debate is going on about nothing in particular.
In this weather I wish I was going to stay at home?...
The Bishop of Lincoln is sitting opposite to me, and has just
dropped the ink all over his white robes in front, and looks
very distraught in consequence.

‘We sit and write letters when the debate is not amusing :
now we are prorogued for lunch, when we eat ham sandwiches,
in a room like a railway refreshment bar,’

After this he went to Sandringham every year ; he much
enjoyed his visits, and met there many interesting people.
At a later visit he made great friends with the royal children.
He had a tremendous romp with little Prince Edward, then
four or five years old, and at last perched him standing with
one of his legs on each of his shoulders, from which perilous
height the descent was made by a somersault, a performance
which the Bishop had often practised with his own children.
The little Prince was delighted, and came up again and
again to have the exciting experience repeated, whilst the
bystanders were a little alarmed lest these wild romps might
lead to some accident, not knowing how safe long experience
with children had made the Bishop.

We started for Rome with our eldest daughter in the
bitter frost which held all Europe from the middle of February
to the end of March, and saw nothing but snow till we crossed
the mountains behind Genoa. We left our daughter at Rome
and went further south to some of the more remote places
which he loved, |

To his daughter Lucia ‘ Cava dei Tirreni: February 19, 1895.
‘I am writing in a lovely spot, to which we came this
afternoon from Rome. The sun shone on us, but the air
freezes and icicles hang on every side. In Rome yesterday
there was the curious sight of frozen fountains with a column

136 THE CORONATION AT MOSCOW 1895

of water all blocked up by frost. . . . Rome was rather a bore,
because people knew that I was there and called on me.
Though I did not return their calls, I still had a sense of
responsibility which prevented the feeling of a holiday.
Moreover at all spare moments and for most meals we were
with the Balzanis, and it is not my notion of a holiday
to be always talking. Further I gave two lectures which
required me to be thinking and trying to improve my mind.
Now that is all over; we arein alittle town of the most charm-
ing situation. . . . Its glory is its monastery, which is some-
where up in the mountains and is one of the most famous in
Italy. It is especially famous for its archives: which are very
large, and its library is of great importance. Perhaps I shall
wander up the mountain toseethem. Beatrice was beginning,
I think, yesterday to find her legs a little in Rome, and to
begin to enjoy it. At first it is disappointing and bewildering.
The Balzani children are amazingly grown up.... It wa
comfort, you know, to talk to someone who gets through
sentences straight, and does not say “you know” and “what
is it?” When this power of conversation comes to a child, it
is quite impressive : and I was certainly greatly impressed by
them.

‘] suppose it is never going tothaw any more. Of course
it is absolutely unheard of that there should be snow or ice
in Italy at all: and to have it in the middle of February is
quite terrible. The people are perfectly amazed and do not
know what to make of it. ... I am already sorry to think
that ten days of the holiday have gone.’

From Cava we went on to Pestum, Salerno and Amalfi,
and thence by the magnificent coast road to Sorrento, and
after a few days there and at Naples went to Monte Cassino.
At the little inn at Cassino, the village at the foot of the
mountain crowned by the great monastery, we spent an
evening of the kind which he particularly enjoyed. Healways
travelled incognito without any servant and in ordinary,
rather shabby, clerical attire. There was no one else staying
at the little inn, but in the evening we heard sounds of music,
and presently the waiter came and told us that the landlady
was giving a party and she hoped that we would join it. So
we were conducted upstairs and found the landlady, a lively,
handsome young widow, receiving her guests, two or three
middle-aged women, and eight or nine men. The party
apparently was to be a dance, and the landlady, the one good

1895 SERMON ON UNITY 137

dancer amongst the women, danced with all the men in turn,
and was most amiable and lively ; the people were all abso-
lutely simple and friendly, and treated us with the utmost
courtesy and kindness. We danced with them, talked with
them, and shared in the very mild refreshments handed round
in the middle of the party, sour wine, green apples, and hard
biscuits ; and we parted from our landlady next morning like
old friends.

The exceptional severity of the weather still continued
and forced us to leave the mountains and return to Rome.

To Mr. Robert Bridges ‘ Peterborough : March 19, 1895.

‘Italy was cold, and my wanderings were cut short by
snow. I had meant to wander in by-ways but was driven
back to Rome. . . . Rome is too big, too civilised and too
full of Americans to be a real holiday. I more and more
seek peace and quiet. .. . Now I am beset with work and
all my diocese is engaged in a strike, so I shall have a high
time of it, and be abused for what I do and for what I do
not do.’

The boot and shoe strike had begun just before we got
back to Peterborough. |

On Whitsunday, June 2, he preached before the University
at Oxford, on ‘Christian Unity.’ He never considered that
organic unity was to be looked for in our day as a practical
possibility, but believed that the present call was to cultivate
that temper which would make for the ‘unity of the Spirit’
He said, in this sermon, that we must beware both of over-
estimating and of under-estimating our differences. Progress
towards unity would best be assured if existing differences
were carefully defined, and the reasons on which they are
founded clearly understood. Every religious body should
strongly and persistently assert its fundamental basis, should
try to live on its positive and not its negative teaching, should
be judged by its own contents and not by its criticism of
other systems. He ended by pleading that all would admit
that they had something to learn and something to teach and
would seek humility and fair-mindedness.!

On June 18 he delivered the Rede lecture at Cambridge,

1 Published in The Heritage of the Spirit,

138 THE CORONATION AT MOSCOW 1895

taking as his subject the ‘Early Renaissance in England.’
His study of the Elizabethan times had repeatedly brought
before him the consideration of the beginnings of the New
Learning in England, and though he owned that he had
attempted the impossible in trying to condense sucha subject
into an hour’s lecture, he hoped at least to have aroused some
interest in the history of scholarship, which in his opinion was
too generally disregarded. Some twenty years before, he had
said to me that the renaissance in England was a splendid
subject which still needed its historian.

On the same day he also spoke at a meeting about a
memorial to Sir John Seeley, and recalled the characteristics
of his former colleague : .

‘I always used to feel that there was nothing more
striking than to see Seeley walking along the streets, medi-
tating by himself. He caught your eye, and immediately his
face lit up; with that characteristic short quick step he would
cross the road, and at once put aside all that he had been
thinking about, and talk with you about something in which
he thought you were particularly interested. In was this
power of ready sympathy which gave his conversation in
society such charm. He was not talking because he must
talk, but he was talking because you led him to talk.’

He spoke of how Seeley stimulated his pupils and inspired
them ‘with deference and respect—deference that was
due to simplicity, and the respect that was won only by
straightforwardness, He had shown the supreme art of
the man of letters, because ‘he seized the salient points of
his subject; he studied them to the full; he made them quite
clear to his own mind; he consumed all the chips of his work-
shop ; he got rid of all the traces of his toil.’ Then he spoke
out: ‘careful rather to make his conclusion clear than to
state the exact steps by which he himself had arrived at it.’

On Tuesday, June 18, the Bishop gave the addresses at
the devotional meeting of bishops at Lambeth. Archbishop
Benson writes about these in his diary: ‘ Bishop of Peter-
borough gave four excellent addresses on the xpumros
avOpwros ths Kapdias, as a scientifically true idea, and the
one important spiritual fact in us, our personality, and three

4 Published in Lectures and Addresses.

Sos ss i ae cg ia aca eceae aaa

1895 SERMON TO THE BRITISH ASSOCIATION 139

on St. Peter—very clever, searching, epigrammatic.’ Bishop
Westcott spoke of them as ‘glowing and powerful.’?

At the end of August we spent a fortnight in Normandy
with our two elder boys. We began with Caen, and then
walked to many of the wonderful village churches in the
Calvados district. The Bishop’s delight in architecture was
ever increasing. He judged it the first of the arts, though
the last to be properly appreciated.. Painting, he considered,
was the first to attract, then sculpture, and last of all architec-
ture, the most learned of the arts, yet at the same time
eminently a popular art, for it was the most clear and definite
way in which ideas could be expressed. He made a church
tell him its own story. First he walked round it outside,
noticing every little detail and tracing the growth of walls
and roof. On going inside he went at once to the transepts,
saying that it was there that the history of the building could
best be discerned. Each visit to France made him more
convinced of the pre-eminence of the French in architecture,
and he was full of plans for future journeys which should
make him better acquainted with the treasures of France.
The last days of our ramble were spent at Etretat, where he
wrote the presidential address for his diocesan conference.

On his return to England he preached before the
meeting of the British Association at Ipswich. He spoke of
the processes by which knowledge is gained, and said that
they must be the same whatever kind of knowledge was
pursued. ‘The pursuit of knowledge teaches reverence and
humility; it requires for its success, seriousness, sobriety,
a sense of limitation, above all a sense of relationship and
universal truth. To him no grasp of knowledge seemed
possible without a conception of the unity of truth. All
knowledge becomes coherent ‘by the revelation of God
contained in Scripture. That revelation is, like all others,
progressive, for it is the revelation of a Person, the Lord
Jesus Christ, and that Person is the centre of all other
revelations, the point to which they run. ? These words
express the central belief of the Bishop’s life, the belief by
which all his ideas and endeavours become coherent.

! Published in 7he Mind of St. Peter and other Sermons.
* Published in 7he Heritage of the Spirit,

140 THE CORONATION AT MOSCOW 1895

In the end of September the diocesan conference met in
Peterborough. In his presidential address‘ he spoke amongst
other things of the Welsh Disestablishment Bill, and of the
necessity for accurate teaching about the Church, which must
go on ‘till we have placed the Church beyond the reach of
party politics altogether. This can be done by showing
historically its close connexion with the national life of
England. It must be done also practically, by showing that
the existence of a national Church makes provision for the
spiritual needs of all; while it does not interfere with full
liberty of combination on the part of those who prefer other
forms of worship. He spoke of the signs of the universal
growth in Christian sympathy and forbearance, and said
‘For myself I would thankfully bear witness to the personal
friendliness of nonconformists, both ministers and people,
thoughout my diocese.’

In the discussion that followed, he said that now when
there was no question of a direct attack upon the Church was
the time for the clergy to teach the position of the Church,
its history, its meaning, its importance, and its connexion
with national life. But ‘in many cases neither the clergy
nor anybody in the parish knew very much about the Church.
The clergy took the position of the Church for granted, but
they could not expect the people always to take that position
for granted.’

He had been asked to speak at the Norwich Church
Congress on the National Church :

To Dr. Jessopp ‘ Peterborough : August 5, 1895.

‘Is my Church Congress paper to be part of an historical
series which you begin and Gwatkin continues? I mean is
the idea that you establish the national character of the
Church of England : Gwatkin shows that it was not changed
at the Reformation? Then am I to come between you and
show that the continuity was not broken by the Reformation
developments, and to fit on to yours by the assertion that,
such as you show it to be at the first, such it remains?’

* Peterborough : August 7, 1895.

‘I am glad to find that your opinion agrees with mine.
We have to make the best of it. If you show the indepen-

1 Published in Zhe Church and the Nation.

1895 NORWICH CHURCH CONGRESS 141

dent origin of the Church of England, I will go on something
like this. The Church in England accepted the papal
jurisdiction for sufficient reasons, and repudiated it for still
more sufficient reasons. It was never merged in the Church
of Rome. The middle ages revelled in ideal theories—e.g.
the Empire did not absorb the English State. The English
Church submitted appeals to the Pope, disputed papal legates,
received papal bulls just as far as it liked: sheltered itself
under the Crown when convenient, finally allowed the Crown
to resume all that the Pope claimed. Would these be the
right lines? In a short paper it is useless to get lost in
details, or to prove ; one can only assert.’

Besides reading this paper the Bishop preached in
Norwich Cathedral on the Sunday morning after the
Congress, and went the same day to Cambridge to address
undergraduates.

To his son Walter at Marlborough College
‘Peterborough : October 18, 1895.

‘. . . Since leaving Norwich I have been twice to Cam-
bridge, once on Sunday to preach to the undergraduates on
the “Imitatio”: and yesterday to open Selwyn Chapel. I
saw Lucia and Cuthbert both times. They seemed very
happy. Cuthbert’s rooms are very spacious and look very
nice: he seems to be taking quite seriously to College life,
and to enjoy it. But before he was an old boy: now he is a
very young man. Do you understand the difference? There
is something in the notion of a “ Fresher.” He has grown old
in school experience : now he has a new kind of experience,
in which he is rather awkward: and the awkwardness goes
through him. Don’t tell him I said so, Lucia has got over
that period now: the second year is always the period of
advance.

‘Yesterday we had a great service at Selwyn, and the
Archbishop preached a sermon. The Warden of Keble was
there, and multitudes of people whom I knew. I am actually
going to Cambridge again to morrow to open a training
college, but my visit has to be very brief. I have had no
time this week for writing my letters, and have written so
many this morning that my writing goes anyhow. Love to
Oswin. God bless you both.’ dé

That autumn we spent six days in Northumberland,
staying at Howick with Lord Grey, and at Fallodon with
Sir Edward Grey.

142. THE CORONATION AT MOSCOW 1895

To his son Walter * Peterborough : November 5, 1895.
‘We had a very pleasant time in Northumberland, only
everybody was attending meetings, and even Embleton
indulged in a bazaar. I felt as if peace was not to be found
within the limits of England, and was more than ever
convinced that even the shortest holiday can only be found
beyond the seas. I am going to lecture at St. Paul’s
Cathedral on Friday, and on Saturday go to Sandringham to
keep the Prince of Wales’ birthday. It is rather awful to
preach him a birthday sermon. I suppose I ought to feel
highly honoured ... I had two functions to perform yesterday
on a dismal day ; they were not very cheerful. Next week
mother and I go to Leicester, which is severe.’ |

In this week besides attending the meeting of East
Anglian bishops in London, at Bishop Festing’s house,
lecturing in St. Paul’s Cathedral on Grosseteste, and going
to Sandringham on the Saturday, the Bishop consecrated a
cemetery, instituted a vicar in his new church, attended a
meeting and preached to a gathering of the Young Men’s
Friendly Society at Leicester. The following week was
spent at Leicester, given up to meetings and _ services,
with an expedition to London to give a brilliant and
learned address to the Church Historical Society, on
‘Dispensations, } and give his second lecture in St. Paul’s
Cathedral. He wrote to Professor Collins about these
lectures ‘I am glad to think that my treatment of Grosseteste
was in your opinion useful. “The unity of the Church”
in the past sounds so well, that it is worth while to see how
it worked out.’

He received this autumn a request from some Northamp-
tonshire gentlemen that he would allow his portrait to be

painted and presented to him :
* November 25, 1895.

‘Dear Mr. Oldroyd,—I am very sensible of the high
honour that you and others propose to confer upon me, and
Iam quite sure that Mr. Harris Brown will do more than
justice to a very unsatisfactory subject.’

Mr. Harris Brown, the artist chosen, came to stay at the
Palace, and the Bishop spent many December days at home

1 Published in Zhe Church and the Nation.
® Published in Lectures and Addresses.

St ae ae
ee wee
POE 65 ee ce Sie Pcie neal

1896 THE LIFE OF QUEEN ELIZABETH 143

to enable him to get on with his work, days which the visitors
to the Palace as well as the artist remember with delight.
The process of sitting naturally bored the Bishop, and people
were urged to come and amuse him by talking to him.
Every possible subject grave and gay was discussed, and the
artist at times found the talk so interesting that it was
difficult to proceed with his work. As he said afterwards,
‘The Bishop gave me some of the golden hours of my life.’
The Bishop was painted in his purple cassock sitting in a
carved oak chair which had been a treasured possession since
his Oxford days, against a background of his bookcases
with their white parchment folios. The portrait gives an
admirable impression of him at his most genial and intimate
moments.'
In 1896 he first took his seat in the House of Lords:

20L.C. ‘115 St. George’s Road, S.W.: February 12, 1896.

‘I had a hard day yesterday, as I did not get here till
10.30. I found that trains were bad. However, I had a
useful time at Thornton and did much business. To-day
I have been busy all day : went to service at ten, opened the
Church House, then lunched with Gore, went to the House
of Lords, took my seat, which is a ludicrous process, but not
so ludicrous as for lay-lords, of whom I saw six introduced.
It was like a show in a circus. Then I heard some debate,
to the end of Rosebery’s speech, when I retired with a head-
ache.’

It was in 1896 that he finished his monograph on Queen
Elizabeth. It was one of the magnificent series of illustrated
biographies brought out by Messrs. Boussod & Valadon.
He was so familiar with the Elizabethan period that it was
a recreation to him in the midst of his other work to write
this book. As he said afterwards: ‘I only wrote the book
because I had been lecturing on the subject at Cambridge,
and when the proposal was made, I wrote it for my own
amusement.’ It is because it was written with such ease,
out of the fulness of his knowledge, that this study of
Elizabeth’s character has proved so fascinating. Very soon

‘ A replica of this portrait has been painted by Mr. Harris Brown for

Emmanuel College. The original will ultimately be added to the collection of
portraits at the Palace, Peterborough.

144 THE CORONATION AT MOSCOW 1806

there was a demand for the book ina form which would make
it accessible to a larger number of readers.

The proofs of the ‘ Elizabeth’ followed us during a holi-
day spent in Algeria early in 1896. On this journey we
explored much of the mountain scenery, taking long drives
of several days.

To his daughter Lucia ‘Bougie: February 25, 1896.

‘, . . We have just arrived at this place after a drive of
two days, quite the loveliest drive I ever took. We went off
for a day’s journey in the train from Algiers to a place called
Sétif, 3,600 feet high. You may imagine it was rather cold
there on a wet night, in which we arrived. Next day the
weather was not much better when we started; and soon
after leaving it poured with rain and the wind howled. We
would not have the carriage shut, but kept the front open

and covered ourselves with waterproofs. We mounted higher

up on the desolate and treeless country, till we were in a
pelting snowstorm, which hit one’s face and stung terribly.
I had to lend my luckless driver a pair of gloves, he looked
so miserable. Presently we began to leave the open plain
and go down a slight valley which gave some shelter. Storks
were walking in the fields and ravens flopping about looking
monstrous. As we went down the valley a few trees began
to appear, and presently the landscape looked like a bit of
the Scotch Highlands on a good Scotch rainy day. The
valley grew more decided when we stopped at a roadside inn
for lunch. In a miserable little place they speedily produced
four courses of food and dessert!; and we drank coffee to
warm ourselves a little... . At half-past four we reached a
little village where we were to stay the night. There the
splendour of the road began. We were at the entrance of a
gorge of surpassing grandeur. The banks rose sheer 1,500
feet ; and were quite close to one another. The road had
been cut out with the greatest difficulty in the side of the
rocks : before it was made no one had been able to go up
the gorge, not even the Arabs. We walked down it as long
as the light lasted. It was magnificent. At every turn you
seemed entirely shut in, with no way out before or behind.
Above were flocks of eagles wheeling in the sky : below were
coveys of blue rock pigeons, whose colouring looked brilliant

‘ Throughout this journey we were much struck by the resource and capacity
of the French colonists. The landladies in the roughest and most remote wayside
inns know how to make one comfortable and provide meals nicely cooked.

1896 TRAVELS IN ALGERIA 245

against the dark foliage! For the gorge was covered with
trees, all green and fresh . . . beautiful trees of soft foliage,
olive and cork, oaks and palms, and shrubs of every sort....
To-day we started and drove six miles through the gorge.
When we left it we saw the great snowy mountains circling
it on every side. . . . Suddenly we came upon the sea, with
a great line of white breakers rolling in. We followed it
some eighteen miles till we came here, a town on a bold rock
jutting out into the sea... . Here we are quite warm and
balmy. We took a walk in the most brilliant moonlight.
I never saw so clear a sky. You could see that the moon
was on a different plane from the stars, an effect I never saw
in England. ... You will see how wonderfully varied our
journey was, grander and larger than anything in Europe,
every part of it quite excellent in its way, and made pic-
turesque by the Arabs and their costume, and their queer
villages which look like rubbish heaps. This part of Algeria
is called Kabylia, and the Kabyles are a race by themselves,
not the Arab invaders, but the Berbers who were the original
people of North Africa whom the Romans and Carthaginians
found there. They are fine fellows, very amiable. I am so
delighted with this experience that I have opened negotia-
tions for another drive of three days into the central high-
lands of Kabylia. I do not know if we will find any place
to sleep the first night; but it will be sport if the weather
will keep up. However, I cannot leave Bougie for two days
more, it is too nice.’

The projected drive of three days was accomplished
through wonderful mountain scenery, under the charge of an
Arab driver. After that we went further west and spent our
last days at Tlemcen. Much though he was interested in
Algeria, the Bishop missed the charm of the intercourse with
the people which he enjoyed so much in his Italian rambles,
and he also felt the want of the continuous historic interest
which adds so much to the delight of Italy. The absence of
family life, the seclusion of the women, the want of any
visible religious life amongst the people also affected him
disagreeably. But the wild beauty of the mountains and the
quite new effects of nature which we experienced made the
journey most enjoyable: ‘I am quite enchanted with the
beauties of Africa,’ he wrote from Tlemcen ; ‘the colours are

} This is the gorge called Chabet-el-Akhira.
VOL. II. L

146 THE CORONATION AT MOSCOW 1896

surprising, especially at sunset; this place has the most
gorgeous effects of colour.’

We got back to Peterborough.on March 23. On April 20,
in accordance with a request received from the Westminster
District Committee for Church Defence, he lectured at the
_ Church House on ‘The Church in the reign of Elizabeth.’ }
The demand for tickets was so great that the lecture had to be
held in the great hall of the Church House, which was filled with
a large and distinguished audience. Next day he lectured
for the same committee in the evening to a large working-
class audience on ‘Church and State.’ He was by no means
given to unreasoning optimism, but he was never inclined to
over-rate the difficulties of the present, and often said that
men at all periods thought that they lived in momentous times
and judged their own difficulties to be exceptional. He
concluded this lecture by saying that ‘never was a time in
English history when Church and State worked in such
thorough harmony for the public good as our own days.’

About this time he was asked to his great surprise whether
he would be willing to go to Moscow to represent the English
Church at the Imperial Coronation. This proposal had been
under consideration for some time. On December 27,
1895, the Archbishop wrote to the Bishop of Winchester,
‘It is very right and Catholic if the Czar should entertain the
idea of inviting the English Church by representation to be
present at his coronation. ... Good might come of it.... For
the reasons you mention and others the Archbishop could not
go. But I should be very glad if the Queen approves in the first
instance to send the Bishop of Peterborough as our repre-
sentative and accredit him formally in that capacity. . . . Ido
not think he ought to to be invited personally. No step
would be gained in good will between the Churches, only
personal friendliness expressed.’

The Bishop heard nothing of the proposal till four months
later.

The Archbishop of Canterbury to the Bishop of Peter-
borough ‘Florence: April 15, 1896.

‘I have a letter from Lord Salisbury, enclosing one from
Cimiez,? to tell me that it is thought desirable that one of the

1 Published in Lectures and Addresses.
* The Queen was then staying at Cimiez.

int saat eal
na ~ es 2 al ate

1896 PROPOSED JOURNEY TO RUSSIA 147

English bishops should attend the coronation of the Czar at
Moscow.

‘It was the wish of the Czar I heard some time ago, and
Lord Salisbury thinks such a mission may do a great deal of
good spiritually and politically. Spiritually I believe, politi-
cally I hope, it will.

‘I am now requested to depute a bishop. The Bishop
of Winchester, as Prelate of the Garter, would be our ordinary
official in such a case; but I have ascertained privately that
it would be very undesirable on account of his health.

‘This being the case, I have no doubt whatever that you
are the right person to go. And I hope that you will do so.
It would be a real representation of the Church. I need
not enlarge on the hopes that surround such personal inter-
course. .. . You will know best whom it will be well for you
to see at the Foreign Office before going, and what letters you
would require. You would no doubt be kindly willing to
bear one from me to the Metropolitan or proper dignitary.
Probably you know Mr. Birkbeck, who is intimate in these
Russian circles,’

To the Bishop of Winchester (Dr. Randall Davidson)
‘ Peterborough: April 19, 1896.

‘My dear Bishop,—I am heartily sorry that I should be
called upon to replace you on an occasion for which you were
exceptionally fitted. The proposal came to me so unex-
pectedly that at present I only see the inconvenience. How-
ever I must do my best and obey orders ; and I trust I shall
enjoy it and appreciate it when I am there. It is certainly a
significant and encouraging fact that on such an occasion there
should be a wish for a representative of the English Church.
Such a thing augurs well for the future—in which my hope
is for the abolition of exclusiveness and the interchange of
ideas, rather than for any formal schemes of what is called
re-union—Russia has much to learn from personal contact
with other systems, and we have always been ready to learn.

‘I shall be in London for Convocation. I am staying
at Lambeth. I want all the advice and information that I
can obtain, and shall be most desirous of a talk with you.
I can only say again how sorry I am that you are prevented
from going.’

From the Bishop of Winchester to the Bishop of Peterborough

‘. . . Putting aside my selfishness, I cannot but rejoice

that you are going, for I know how you will more than any
L2

148 THE CORONATION AT MOSCOW 1896

other of us all appreciate and understand the occasion, and
we shall look forward intensely to hearing its details from
you. I trust nothing will intervene to prevent you from

going.

Though the Bishop felt this request distinctly embarrass-
ing, coming as it did so soon after his return from a holiday,
and when he was full of engagements of every kind, he had
no hesitation about doing as was desired. I could not
accompany him. As the bishops of the Russian Church are
not married, it would have been out of place for an English
bishop on a state occasion to appear with a wife, so for the
first time he prepared to go on a long journey alone. There
was little time for all the necessary arrangements. He had to
provide for his work during his absence, and to hold many
interviews with official persons in London in order to obtain
instructions. The Prince of Wales summoned him to Marl-
borough House, and had a long talk with him about his
mission. The Archbishop was interested in every detail.
He wrote that ‘the Bishop ought to go in the smartest
clothes the law allows. No possible person could object to a
cope, and the late Lord Selborne maintained that mitres
might, and probably ought to, be worn by English bishops at
their functions. This I think would be right,’

As the Bishop’s own cope was not suitable, one of the
Westminster coronation copes of crimson velvet and gold
was borrowed for him, and he took his own mitre and pastoral
staff. It was decided that he should travel with Mr. W. J.
Birkbeck, who was going to Moscow for the coronation, and
whose knowledge of Russia and of the Russian language
would make him an invaluable companion. The Russian
authorities made everything easy. The Russian Ambassador,
M. de Staal, said that all Russians would be delighted at such
a distinguished representative of the English episcopate being
sent, and that he would be a fersona gratissima both to the
Emperor and to the ecclesiastical authorities. The following
are extracts from his letters to me:

‘Moscow, May 18, 1896.

‘At 7.30 we reached Warsaw. We found the troops
drawn up and a band playing in honour of the Grand Duke
of Oldenburg, who was with us. There in the scuffle Birkbeck

1896 ARRIVAL AT MOSCOW 149

chivied the station master, who put us into our carriage.
Here we reached magnificence. The only thing that could
not be avoided was the dust.

‘Though we had double windows, a fine sand found its
way in, and covered everything, and an attendant came at
intervals and swept up. Our train was entirely for guests of
the Emperor; there were only about twenty people in it... .

‘We reached Moscow in a heavy rain: the army was
there to greet the Grand Duke, and we had to scramble out
through them... .

‘No sooner was I there than the English chaplain came
to ask me to preach on Sunday, which I agreed to do... .
I changed into decent attire and called on Pobiedonostzeff,! but
he was at dinner at 5°30. The rain had ceased a little and I
went for a walk to the Kremlin. It was dull and things
looked ugly, but the sight was very impressive : a mass of
palaces, churches and monasteries on a hill above the river.
The effect was marred by the preparations for the coronation :
great wooden stages erected over all possible places. Moscow
is a big place, very difficult at first to find one’s way about.
I am not staying in the main house of the Embassy, I am
glad to say, but in a second house which is reserved for
bachelors. This ismuch more comfortable and chummy... .
There are a number of young men whom I enjoy talking to.
The attachés are all very kind to me, and take no end of
pains. Birkbeck seems to place himself at my disposal.
[ shall let myself be run contentedly.’

* May 19.

‘This place is so turned upside down, and everybody is so
busy, and I can speak no Russian—so that, on the whole, I

- can only obey. . . . The whole thing seems to me more and
more ridiculous, and I keep on asking myself what I am
doing. But I will tell you my day in detail. ... I was

invaded by Birkbeck before I had finished breakfast. First
we went to the Embassy and saw Sir N. O’Conor.....
Then we drove off to find Pobiedonostzeff, who was at the
Synod. .. . Nobody was in, and we collapsed into visiting
a church, in which I learned something of their ritual. It is
most extraordinary to see the peasants in the streets doing

' M. Pobiedonostzeff had been Alexander III.’s tutor, and doubtless had
a great deal to do with the development of that Emperor’s strongly ‘national’
ideas. He was made Chief Procurator of the Holy Synod towards the end of
Alexander II,’s reign, and had an enormous influence on the Government of
Russia during the whole of Alexander III.’s reign, and may be said to have shaped
the internal policy of Russia.

150 THE CORONATION AT MOSCOW 1896

their devotions. There are eikons ! outside: a man will stand
before each, cross himself, and genuflect three times, say a
prayer, and then pass on to the next. So they were in the
church, going on from eikon to eikon; they are all of old
Byzantine type, and each one follows an approved model in
design : thus they have names, the Vladimir Mother of God,
the Khazan Mother of God, and so on.

‘ After lunch we went to the Kremlin and found Sanitscheff,
the Emperor’s confessor, a nice old man of seventy, who
talked to me in German. He is dean of the royal chapels,
and has them under his care: there are in the palace itself
about ten. He took my arm, and showed us over the palace:
very splendid rooms, with lovely wooden floors, inlaid in
patterns, floriated. On leaving him we went to Pobiedonost-
zeff, whom we found at home. He was a thin old man over
seventy, more like a Frenchman than a Russian, with a thin
face and large spectacles, clearly as acute as possible, and a
diplomatist above all things. He was very pleasant and
most kind, talked about all sorts of things in a general way, and
gave me a German book about the coronation. I certainly
thought him a great man in his way, and hope I may see
more of him. We came back to tea, and I: found in my room
a touching present of bread and salt and a spoon from the
lady who owns our house. Of course I had to pay a call and
acknowledge her greeting.’

* May 20,

‘I went off this morning to see the Patriarch and present
a letter from the Archbishop. He was a venerable man,
magnificently attired in purple velvet. He spoke only
Russian, and communications had to pass through Birkbeck.
We were with him for an hour, at the end of which he pre-
sented me with an eikon with great solemnity. Hekissed me
on both cheeks, and we kissed one another’s hands. The
interview was quite successful, I think. I was dressed in my
Convocation robes and tried to look magnificent. We after-
wards tried to find some other metropolitans, and failed.’

The Bishop records in his notebook his interview with
Gennadius, Metropolitan of St. Petersburg.

‘ Birkbeck translated the Archbishop’s letter. Patriarch
expressed his satisfaction at such a friendly and affectionate
expression of sympathy, and hoped that intercourse might

lead to a better understanding between the Churches: the
English Church was not understood in Russia.

1 Sacred Pictures.

1896 THE PATRIARCH GENNADIUS I5r

‘ Bishop of P: Nor the Russian Church in England.
There is much in common.

‘Patriarch: Asked if we acknowledged Seven Sacra-
ments, understood that we drew a difference between two.
necessary for all men, and those only used by some.

‘I explained our definition of two only as generally
necessary to salvation.

‘ Patriarch: Therefore you do not exclude ordination
from Sacraments. There is great interest in Russia about
your Apostolical Succession.

‘ Bishop of P : We have no doubt about it.

‘ Patriarch: In the consecration of Parker, one bishop
consecrated under the old ritual.

‘ Bishop of P: Two.

‘ Patriarch: That was important.

‘ Bishop of P: We do not think so. The change in the
ritual observed did not touch the essence of the rite. It was
merely translation into English and simplification. All else
remained the same.

‘ The Patriarch took note of the view.

‘I explained the difference between Church of England
and Church of Rome in attempt to get rid of Roman
additions : referred to our Convocation Prayer.

‘ Patriarch: Cordially approved of expression “tyrannus
papalis.” Pseudo-Isidorian decretals in eyes of Romanists
above Scripture.

‘Conversation then about Bishop Wilkinson’s visit, and
comments made in English press: evidently very touchy on
this point.

‘l explained political opposition to Church: everything
_ done by a bishop sure to be commented on : but this not view
of Church, but of a party.

‘ Patriarch: referred to a suggestion of Bishop Wilkinson
that a Greek bishop should attend Lambeth Conference.

‘ Bishop of P : Conference was a meeting of our bishops for
the business of the Church: would be glad of any mark of
sympathy.

‘ Patriarch: evidently desirous of this in some shape.
Finally Patriarch said that he would lay the letter before the
Holy Synod, who would return an answer. Gave me an
eikon of St. Panteleémon, the Unmercenary One, as a Saint
before the division of the Churches.'

1 St. Panteleémon was one of the class of Eastern Saints known as ‘un-
mercenary,” because they were men who gave aid to the poor without being paid.
The great Russian monastery on Mount Athos is dedicated to him.

152 THE CORONATION AT MOSCOW 1896

‘He further expressed his great pleasure at hearing that
the Queen had used in her chapel the dirge of Alexander III.
The unity of the Royal families was a tie to bring nations and
churches together,’

* May 23.

‘On Wednesday afternoon I paid calls and saw the
Metropolitan of Kieff, who was not very impressive and did
not talk about much. At seven o’clock we went to a service
in the big Cathedral of the Saviour, and I saw the beginning
of vespers with a large congregation who had come to pray
for the Emperor, and would go on from 7 till 10.30. The
ceremonial and the singing was very fine. You know the
churches have an iconostasis, a huge chancel screen with
gates shut before the altar. Some of the service is sung by
a deacon outside, some by the priest inside, and then at times
there is an Hyxtvance—i.e. a procession from inside which
marks a division. Then I came back and dined in peace:
but I sit up late talking to the various youths as they come
in from their dinners. On Thursday there was the state
entrance of the Emperor into Moscow. Birkbeck had
machinated for places and ultimately we went to the Kremlin,
where I was placed in the front row of a box built just
opposite the three churches which the Emperor visited. Of
course we had to sit and wait for hours. It was a lovely day
luckily. At first my interest was in my surroundings. They
were queer enough. In my box was the Armenian patriarch,
with his black silk embroidered robes and tall pointed head-
dress covered by a veil, falling behind; then the Lutheran
superintendent, a German from the Baltic provinces. On
the left were two boxes, one for the Khan of Bokhara, the
other for the Khan of Khiva, resplendent in Oriental brocades
and most magnificent. On my right were Mussulmans from
the Caucasus, and Lamas from the Thibetan provinces, clad
in yellow silk. The chief one wore a headdress divided into
compartments, and in each compartment was a picture of
Budda. Behind us sat representatives of the Russian nobility
in uniform. The next row of boxes was given up to nuns,
all dressed in black; the next to representatives of institu-
tions, school-girls and the like. In front of us was the great
courtyard with the grand staircase leading up to the Palace,
and round it are three churches: between them was erected
a stage, covered with red and guarded with soldiers. Beyond
them were a crowd, peasants and artisans, representatives
of gilds. The great bell of Moscow, the largest in the
world, boomed out over one’s head. Then suddenly it

1896 ENTRANCE OF THE EMPEROR 153

burst out into a rapid clang, and all the bells in Moscow
at the same time. There are more than 2,000 of them; you
can imagine the din. This was the sign that the Emperor
had entered the territory of Moscow. To add to the noise
minute guns were fired.

‘Then we waited for an hour and a half: magnificently
clad personages paced along the Emperor’s stage and made
endless preparations: last of all came three sweepers, who
carefully swept the passage. In the porches of each of the
churches were groups of ecclesiastics and choirs: the clergy
in cloth of gold, the choirs in a uniform of black and red.
As the time came nearer incense was swung and everybody
was on the alert. Then came five marshals with huge gilt
staffs one after another, behind them the Emperor, between
the two Empresses, with their mighty trains carried by pages.
Then the grand dukes and members of the Imperial family:
then grand duchesses, again with flowing trains: then the
representatives of crowned heads with their suites. The
Emperor was first aspersed, then he kissed the cross, then
he kissed the hands of the three metropolitans and they
kissed his. They entered the church: the bells suddenly
ceased, and for a time we heard the sound of music from
inside. The Emperor reappeared and visited the other two
churches in like way, and then mounted the stairs to the
palace. It was now 4.30. I had had no lunch, but a headache
instead. I had some tea, and walked back and spent a
dilapidated evening. Yesterday Nicolai! found me out and
busied himself about my affairs in trying to get me a carriage.
We had only heard of one, which cost 800 roubles, nearly
go/. for the fortnight! You may imagine my horror; but
.it is absolutely necessary, as I cannot go about in a droschki
or cab, as they are miserable things, several degrees worse
than the Roman Jofte. Nicolai tried to get one cheaper,
but the first effort failed, and we had to close with the only
offer before us, as I had to go and see the Emperor at one.

‘There in the palace everything was very magnificent ;
Pobiedonostzeff took charge of me and walked me through
the rooms, then he introduced me to Briennios, the patriarch
of Constantinople, the man who discovered the Awday7, whom
I was pleased to see, and several Russian princes came and
talked. Then, quite suddenly, I was seized and told to go
through a door, where in a little room stood the Emperor and
Empress. I really felt quite casual, and had a little conversa-

* A cousin of mine from Reval, Mr. Nicolai Koch, who had married my
elder sister.

154 THE CORONATION AT MOSCOW 1896

tion with them in English. I made great mistakes in my
court manners, but I dare say they forgave me. The Emperor
is a very attractive man, with blue eyes, and a great charm
about his face, which lights up and is very kindly. We
talked and laughed, I am sorry to say. The Emperor said
that I would find the coronation fatiguing: I said, what must
it be for him? In fact, we had an afternoon call conversa-
tion. I was treated with great distinction, as I was called in
first. ‘The Empress looked very nice dressed in white silk,
and occasionally smiled. Then I went and lunched at a
restaurant.

‘I ought to have told you that before going to Court, the
Metropolitan of Kieff came to return my call. All the
domestics rushed out of their several dens to kiss his hand
on the staircase, and I went up mightily in their estimation.
Later in the afternoon I went to call on the Metropolitan of
Moscow, but he was ill. There we met Sabler, who is Pob’s!
second in command. He at once carried us off to a convent
of Strasnoy, where I had tea with the abbess. They make
at the convent all the bread for the Communion, and I was
fed with little loaves made for that purpose and delicious
jam. But Sabler ordered the choir to come and sing in the
next room: you know that they always sing unaccompanied
and consequently have lovely music. I was delighted, but
asked with amazement how the choir could be gathered at a
moment’s notice. “Oh,” was the answer, “it is the nuns.”
“ But,” I said, “they sing bass.” “ Yes, of course.” I got up
to look: such a sight. Sombre, pallid, ugly women of all
ages ; but these were the basses and tenors. It is a speciality
and takes a vast amount of training; but they do it. Their
singing was perfectly marvellous: they can sing pianissimo
without becoming flat. It is quite wonderful. They all
bowed low before me when they had done.’

‘Whitsunday: May 24.

‘I am getting on, and did a good day’s work yesterday. |
had to square the chaplain to have a special service for the
Duke of Connaught, at 10.45 this morning. The chaplain
said there would be no choir, no organist, and no
congregation. I told him it must be done, as the Duke
asked for it. He said it would destroy his 11 o’clock
service, which had been announced. I took the matter in
hand: said we must have a short service at 10.15, and
another at 11.15, and I would preach at both. I mentioned

1 Pobiedonostzeff.

1896 SUNDAY AT MOSCOW 155

it to some newspaper correspondents whom I saw at lunch.
The church was crowded. I ordered Litany and Ante-
Communion, and preached a short sermon, which was all done
in the hour. Then we had Matins, and I went on with the
celebration, and preached again to the ordinary congregation.
I lunched with the chaplain, who has a lovely girl of the age
of ten, with whom I made friends. Then I was ordered to
see the Duke of Connaught, who was very friendly and
pleased with my sermon. It was the Queen’s birthday, you
remember, and I took the line of the work of the Spirit in
diversity of character and unity of purpose underlying
difference. Then I spoke of the impressiveness of the
Russian people praying for the gifts of the Spirit to the
great head of the national family : and ended by saying that
we could sympathise with them because we knew how much
we owed to our Queen. The Duke said it made him cry, and
indeed he wiped his eyes very hard, as I happened to see.
But this has carried me on to to-day, and I have not told you
about yesterday. I spent the afternoon in writing my name,
and then called on Pobiedonostzeff, with whom I talked for
nearly an hour. He is a most interesting man of powerful
mind, clear vision, and large knowledge. He talked about
Kidd’s “Social Evolution,” and Balfour’s book; he has read
everything: admires “The Earthly Paradise,” and wonders
how Morris can be a Socialist. I find him one of the ablest
men I have ever met. Then Birkbeck took me to tea with
Princess Mestchertsky, who has a large family of daughters,
and all speak English. They were all very nice, and gave
me a copy of the Proclamation of the Coronation. It was
proclaimed by heralds at various gates, who then threw a few
‘magnificently printed copies among the crowd. These are
very rare, and she insisted that I should have one, which she
had got. I give you this as an instance of the kindliness of
these people. [I am called upon, now by stray clergy, and if
I am in, I. scarcely have a moment’s peace. Last night I
could scarcely find time to make a sermon, and I thought it
was a very bad one, but apparently it did. I think I am
getting on too well and want snubbing.’
‘ May 26.

‘I left off on Sunday afternoon and have not had a
moment since. I dined at the Embassy to celebrate the
Queen’s birthday. We were a party of 70, and dined at
little tables of eleven each. I took in Madame de Claney, a
_ good old German lady, but had not much chance of talking
to her, as I sat next Princess Louis of Battenberg, who is

156 THE CORONATION AT MOSCOW 1896

a sister of the Empress, and who talked to me all the time.
She is amazingly clever and well informed ; those Hesse girls
have been very well brought up, and are very pretty and
attractive. She is staying with the Grand Duke Sergius, the
Governor of Moscow, who is the Emperor’s uncle, and
married another Hesse princess, who is most beautiful. ...
Yesterday Nicolai came and took me to the picture gallery
here, made by a rich merchant, and open to the public. It
was very interesting, of course all modern Russian pictures :
they are all realistic, and deal with popular life ; they are like
everything else in Russia, sombre and ¢riste; deathbeds and
invalids and prisoners abound. I had to get up at 5.30, for
to-day’s function! We were in the cathedral soon after
seven, and I had about the best place possible. It is quite
needless for me to write a description of the spectacle, as you
will have seen it in all the papers. It was far beyond
anything I could have imagined, and the service was, from a
religious point of view, wonderfully impressive. I will keep
my description till I get back. When the service was over
we went out, and saw the Emperor mount the steps to the
palace. It was a gorgeous day: the crowd was enormous:
and the roar as the Emperor mounted the staircase, with six
pages staggering under the weight of his train, and his huge
diamond crown gleaming in the sunlight, was beyond
anything that can be imagined. The two Empresses followed.
When they reached the top they turned and bowed to the
people, and then passed into the palace. I followed, having
been invited to the State dinner, which perhaps was not
described. The distinguished guests had lunch in various
rooms, but this was not for me. I was presently taken
charge of by a kindly officer, who led me to a quiet place, and
gave me achair. Then he found a room where he supplied
me with tea. There Pobiedonostzeff found me—really his
care of me knows no bounds—and took me to the banqueting
hall in the Granovitaya Palata. It is a large room with a
vaulted roof, and a huge square pillar in the middle, which is a
buffet gleaming with splendid cups. The Court stood in one
corner by the door: the Emperor’s throne was opposite. It
was on a stage under a baldachino. He and the two
Empresses entered and were served, while all stood. The
food was brought in by the great officers and handed from one
toanother. When he called for wine, the Court retired, and we

' Mr. Birkbeck writes: ‘I got to the Bishop’s by 6.30 and found him ready
robed. He looked so magnificent in his red and gold Coronation Cope from the
Abbey, his mitre and crozier.’

1896 CORONATION FESTIVITIES 157

might sit and begin our dinner.’ It was then 3.30, and I was
rather hungry. In the other corner of the room was an
orchestra, and choir, who sang all the time. The tables were
arranged in the remaining space; all the great officials of the
Empire were there, and the table nearest the throne was
reserved for ecclesiastics. I was in the middle of it, between
an Armenian bishop and Father John of Cronstadt, the great
holy man of Russia. Unfortunately he spoke nothing but
Russian ; but we chummed, as far as we could: he kissed me,
and drank with me, and was most friendly. One course of
the repast was the presentation to each guest of a gold medal
in commemoration of the Coronation. We had a mighty
repast, but it was soon over, and I came back. On my way
out the crowd thronged to kiss my hand. They were the
regular moujzks, and did not know who or what I was: but
their religious exaltation was such that they wanted
somebody to be venerated. Father John was in front of me,
and was mobbed. I soon was mobbed too, but it was im-
possible not to be touched by the evident feeling of the people.
Poor dears, they are just like children, but such nice good
children. I got to my carriage at last, and had a sort of
progress, giving my blessing as I went through the streets.
My cope was excellent; it was not on the same lines as
their vestments, which are all cloth of gold. It felt rather
odd dining in a cope, but I had no choice. As they do not
carry pastoral staffs, mine was unique, and I tried to look very
dignified. I can only say the whole thing quite surpassed
any expectations I could have formed. It is a thing never
to be forgotten. . I pine to be back, and will now make tracks
for that purpose: I must try and get away before the crowd.’
* May 27.

‘Last night after dinner I strengthened myself to go out
and see the illuminations. The crowd was immense: loco-
motion was difficult, and I went alone, as no one else was
sufficiently vigorous. I got down to the river and saw the
Kremlin, all the buildings of which had been covered with
glass lamps containing candles, so that all the architecture,
domes, and cupolas, and all, stood out in blue, green, yellow
or white light, while electric lights rotated all round and fire-
works ascended. . . .’

* May 29.

*. . . I will go on with my story. On Wednesday night

{ went again to dine with the Emperor. Is not that a

' The Bishop was the only person not a Russian subject present at this
banquet.

158 THE CORONATION AT MOSCOW 1896

mighty honour? We assembled in a great hall, and then
went to the banqueting hall: the arrangement of places was
strictly to show the connexion of Church and State. At the
principal table sat the ecclesiastics on one side and the
Imperial party on the other. I was between an Armenian
bishop and Father John as before; but opposite me was the
Duke of Edinburgh, and we talked across the table. The
dinner was magnificent of course, with a mighty orchestra
to play all the time. It began at 7 and was over about 8.30.
When the Emperor retired the guests soon dispersed. I came
back and took Forestier to see the illuminations, which looked
even more beautiful. On returning about 12 came Prince
Andronikoff in a fuss, because I ought to have presented
myself at an Imperial reception, where all the clergy went to
congratulate the Emperor. He wanted to know what was
now to be done. Punctiliousness knows no end; so I wrote
to somebody to say I would go yesterday. So in the morn-
ing I had to inform two English chaplains and Birkbeck that
they were to go with me. At 12.30 I went to the palace in
my Convocation robes and staff, duly attended. There was
an enormous throng, but everybody was kind to me, and
made me a place soon. There was great splendour in a
mighty hall, and I advanced and congratulated and shook
hands with the Emperor and kissed the hand of the Empress,
and bowed and departed. The Empress looked nearly dead
with fatigue, and had to go on till § o’clock. It was 2 before
I got any lunch. Then there were some calls to pay, and
I came home and fell asleep. Then we went off to visit a
settlement of vaskolniks, who are Russian dissenters, outside
the walls, a quiet little place with two splendid churches, all
gleaming with eikons. We had to drive back, and I hastily
dressed and dined before going to a State ball at the palace.
There were about 8,000 people there : all stood in rows about
ten deep, and the Emperor and Empress and royal personages
and ambassadors walked with their ladies between the rows
while music crashed. This was supposed to be a polonaise.
I got out presently on to the balcony and looked at the
illuminations, which were more marvellous seen from above.
. . . This morning I had scarcely finished breakfast before I
had a visit from a professor, who is writing about Anglican
Orders: then came the charming Bishop of Finland to pay
a call before his departure.’ ‘May 30, 1896.

‘Yesterday I was rung up by a telephone and received a
message that there was a ticket for me at the theatre in the
evening. That is the way that things are done. There is

1896 CORONATION FESTIVITIES 159

so much to do that tickets are issued at the last moment, ana
you never know where to find them; so most of your time is
spent in waiting. I went to the Embassy to dinner. .
We went off at 7.30 and waited for the Emperor’s arrival.
The theatre is a very large and fine building; it held 2,800
people. I was in the front row of the stalls, and had a
splendid view. All the stalls were filled by officers in magni-
ficent uniforms and the boxes gleamed with ladies. Opposite
the stage was the Imperial box; when the Emperor arrived
we all stood and shouted, and the band struck up the National
Anthem, and the enthusiasm was mighty. Then began a
Russian opera by Glinka, rather old-fashioned ; they only did
a bit of one act, but it was full of old Russian airs. Then
came a long pause, and after that a ballet, to which the
Russians are devoted. It was a great spectacle, and the
dancing was admirable: but it was of the old style of ballet,
the Queen of Pearls, under the sea, and rather of the panto-
mimic kind. ... So far I wrote, when I was again rung up
from the Embassy with the news that there was a ticket for
me to a stand at a great popular festival given to-day. I
went to see our landlady, who told me that there had been
a sad accident this morning. At the distribution of
memorials of the Coronation to the crowd, the rush was so
great that many were suffocated. It is difficult to learn
details... . We set out for this great exercise ground
outside the walls at 12.30, and drove through blinding dust.
At 2 the Emperor arrived: the crowd must have been
about half a million: the shouts were tremendous: and caps
were thrown into the air, never, I should think, to be
recovered by their owners. There was a vast orchestra and
choir opposite the Emperor’s box. I was just at the left.
The National Anthem was sung time after time, while the
people cheered ceaselessly. Guns were fired, bells were rung,
and the noise and dust were terrific. This lasted for three-
quarters of an hour, when the Emperor withdrew. Mean-
while there were great stages erected for ballets for the
crowd: there were huge towers of merry-go-rounds, and
various forms of entertainments spread all around,’
‘ Trinity Sunday, May 31.

‘This morning I went off to church, and preached and
celebrated. The Duke of Connaught was there again. Then
I lunched with the chaplain, and have just returned. I
received an order this morning to write an account of the
Coronation for Her Majesty. So I must set to work on
that with pains and care. I should like to please her.

160 THE CORONATION AT MOSCOW 1896

‘The accident yesterday is a most awful thing. Fully
1,700 people were killed. There were to be 400,000 presents
distributed, and in the crush at the beginning the first ranks
were thrown down and trampled on. It is quite terrible to
think of, and everyone is plunged in woe. It is useless to
consider what the mistake was; but there is the sad fact that
more people were slain in a holiday than would have perished
in a battle... The action of a crowd is incalculable.’

‘June 3.

‘On Monday we went for an expedition to the Troitsa
Monastery, the most holy place in Russia... I got up at 5.30
for the purpose. At the Troitsa we first joined the service in
the church thronged with pilgrims, and saw several children
communicated, which was odd. Then we visited the Prior,
who gave us tea and lovely bread and jam. Weexplored the
monastic treasury and all the buildings. Then we drove to
some dependent cells situated in a fine forest, with little
lakes beside them, very pretty and very interesting for a view
of Eastern monasticism. We returned about 3, and had
a large dinner with the chief officials ; it was all of fish, and
was most excellent. They were very kind, and we carried off
presents of pictures which they make there... .’

The Bishop made the following note at the time of the
remarks made by M. Pobiedonostzeff in the conversation
alluded to in his letter of May 24:

‘The unity of the nation depends on the Church. The
one anti-national power is that of Rome, which subverted the
ancient organisation of the Church to make it a political
power. It had succeeded, but the Roman Church was
materialised in consequence, and the foe of all national insti-
tutions. Thesupremacy of the Pope was the strongest power
that existed in Europe: it was highly organised, possessed
of great wealth. Its members always worked for its objects.
He was not pleased that Germany and England were repre-
sented by Roman Catholic ambassadors. The Russian
Church corresponded to the needs of the Russian people.
Conversion had been wrought by monasteries, which were still
centres of civilisation. The music of the Church spread
everywhere, and created a taste which ameliorated life. The
services of the Church were pure poetry, and impressed the
great truths of religion on the popular mind. You may speak
of superstition in the veneration of eikons: it was a prayer
struggling for expression. It might not be possible to tell

1896 M. POBIEDONOSTZEFF i61

how it appealed to the ignorant mind; but superstition
required exact definition ; nothing was entirely free from it.
Certainly the superstitions of free-thinkers went deeper than
anything that could be put down to the most ignorant Chris-
tian. The great enemy of the Russian Church was Rome. In
Poland its political influence was steadily used for disaffection.
In the neighbourhood of Austria priests objected to eikons
and substituted their images. The Bible without the Church
could be made to mean anything. He spoke of Davies’
“Unorthodox London,” and of the religious census in the
United States. Such dissidence was impossible for a country
like Russia.’

The Bishop was mucn impressed by M. Pobiedonostzeff,
and considered him one of the most able and interesting men
he had ever met; he described him as clever, spare, and
sharp—a man whocould be disagreeable ; but he wasconvinced
of the sincerity of his efforts to promote the good of his
country. M. Pobiedonostzeff’s opinion of the Bishop was
expressed in a letter to Mr. Birkbeck in 1901 :

‘It was through you that I had the fortunate opportunity
of getting to know him in conversation, in which we frankly
exchanged our views, and from which I carried away a most
gratifying impression. I am not speaking of his intellect, his
learning, or his literary talent. What was most to be prized
in him was his heart, a heart sincere, and filled with love for
men, and with the desire to help them just whenever the
need presented itself. He was able to understand not only
the worthy qualities, but at the same time the weaknesses, in a
man; while in religious questions he had a soul keenly
sensitive to every belief and every conscience. For us it was
delightful to see and to feel with what spiritual penetration
he had investigated our Church, and had been able to
comprehend in her a reflection of the soul of the Russian
people. His attitude towards Church matters was that of a
savant, and at the same time of a poet, responding with his
soul to everything that was beautiful, and to everything that
was right, wherever he might see it... here in Russia, those
who knew the Bishop were able to appreciate him.’

On reaching London, the Bishop went straight to Lambeth
to report to the Archbishop the result of his mission, and on
June 9 he got back to Peterborough. This sight of Russia
and of the Russian Church and people on such a momentous

VOL. IL. M

162 THE CORONATION AT MOSCOW 1896

occasion fired his historic imagination and produced a pro-
found and lasting impression upon him. What he had
observed and heard convinced him of the absurdity of
Englishmen attempting to suggest schemes of reform for
Russia or to solve her problems. Her conditions, her
civilisation, the character of her people, he saw to be so
different from ours that it was vain to apply our standards
to her. Yet all that he had learnt made him clear that it
was of supreme importance that England and Russia should
learn to understand one another, and should be drawn more
closely together, since much of the future of the world,
especially of the Eastern world, lay in their hands. Moreover
the strength of both lay in their sense of a national mission.
There was room for both to fulfil that mission, and there was
no need for them to hinder one another.

He often spoke strongly about the folly of the English in
trying to manage the affairs of other nations by public
meetings and otherwise, and said that Russia neither ap-
preciated nor understood that kind of attention. His own
attitude in Russia had been that of one who tried to under-
stand rather than to criticise, and this he felt should be the
attitude of the English towards the Russians. The sight of
the way in which the religious life of the Russian people
found its expression in the national life was specially grateful
to one to whom the national side of the English Church
meant so much. In many of his talks with distinguished
Russians he had realised how, without any organic union, the
English and the Russian Churches could at least exist in
perfect harmony and with a thorough understanding of one
another. His ideas about the whole meaning of the Corona-
tion ceremony he expressed in an article for the ‘Cornhill
Magazine’! to which I would refer those who would like to
see it with his eyes.

His conclusions about the political condition of the time
may be judged from the following record of a conversation
with the Hon. (now Sir) Schomberg MacDonnel (then Lord
Salisbury’s private secretary), who writes :

‘He had an extraordinary insight and knowledge of
foreign politics. I travelled with him for two hours soon

1 Since republished in Azstorical Essays and Reviews.

1896 INTERNATIONAL POLITICS 163

after his return from the Coronation at Moscow, during
which time he discussed the whole situation in Europe. He
was very earnest as to the mischief caused by the antagonism
of Russia towards England : in his view the great guarantee
for peace would be a thorough understanding between the
two Powers: this he hoped might be brought about by Lord
Salisbury and Prince Lobanoff, though he admitted that the
latter was at heart deeply prejudiced against England. I
asked him how he thought Germany would view such an
understanding : “ There was no doubt,” he replied, “that she
would not like it. Rightly or wrongly, Prince Bismarck had
always made the separation of Russia and England a cardinal
point of his foreign policy; and the same policy was
evidently going to be followed in Germany for a long time to
come.” It wasa mistaken policy, in his opinion, as he believed
the best combination possible would be England, Russia and
Germany : with a good understanding between these Powers
it would be impossible for anybody to break the peace of
Europe. France he regarded as a real danger, though unable
to do much mischief so long as she was kept in check by
Russia: still her upper classes were idle and effete: her
middle class and her government corrupt ; and her army not
to be trusted : better material for a conflagration could hardly
be imagined: fortunately the absence of any strong claimant
to the throne was a great safeguard: otherwise the present
state of affairs could not last. Italy would never flourish
until she hardened her heart and reduced her army : her only
salvation lay in abandoning militarism for the development
of the country; but he doubted if any king would have the
strength and courageto doit. As for Turkey and the Balkan
peninsula, he would prophesy nothing, only he thought that
Russia had fixed her eyes on the Far East more than on
Constantinople: and he was quite certain that Russia was
adopting avery different policy towards Mahommedans ; now
that she ruled over so many of them in Asia, it was to her
interest to appear as their protector rather than to allow them
to be bullied: on the whole, he was inclined to think that
Turkey in Europe would last longer than people anticipated.
As for Russia moving a finger to aid the Armenians, the idea
was preposterous: Russia did not want them any more than
Turkey : they were not of her Church, they did not make
particularly good soldiers: and they were too fond of
anarchical and revolutionary sentiments to be welcome
immigrants.

‘ Austria seemed to him to be in a very dangerous position :
as long as the Emperor lived—well and good—he would

M2

164 THE CORONATION AT MOSCOW 1896

probably be able to hold the country together; but after him
—the deluge; and the great danger to Europe seemed to
him to lie in the struggle which must inevitably follow
between Russia, Germany and Austria herself.’

The Bishop received the following autograph letter from
the Queen in return for the letter he wrote to her at her
request describing the Coronation :

* Balmoral Castle: June 11, 1896.

‘The Queen wishes to express her warmest thanks to the
Bishop of Peterborough for his most interesting and instructive
letter. The description was so vivid and so beautifully
written that it enables the Queen to understand and follow it
all as no other description has done to the same extent.

‘The Queen feels like a mother to the dear young
Empress, who lost her mother at such an early age and then
her father.

‘She was very often in England from her earliest child-
hood, and the Queen has also a great affection for the young
Emperor. How terrible that this awful catastrophe should
have occurred to cast such a gloom over everything !

‘The Queen hopes to see the Bishop on her return to
England.’

Later he sent the Queen a copy of his ‘Cornhill’ article,
asking at the same time whether the Empress would perhaps
like a copy: to this the Queen replied :

‘ Balmoral Castle: September 8, 1896.

‘The Queen is most grateful to the Bishop of Peter-
borough for his enlarged and beautiful account of the
Coronation at Moscow, and feels sure that the Empress ot
Russia would be delighted to receive a copy.

‘The Queen will give it to her dear grand-daughter if the
Bishop will send it to the Queen.

‘She trusts she!may not seem very indiscreet if she asks
him to let her have a few more copies for her children. It is
impossible to describe anything more admirably and graphi-
cally than the Bishop has done, giving at the same time such
an interesting description of what such an act signified.

‘How the Queen wishes she could have seen it’

He was summoned to Windsor in the following autumn
to give the Queen a verbal account of what he had seen.
She was so much interested in what he told her that he was

1896 THE ROMANES LECTURE 165

delayed at the Castle till some more of the Royal Family
were able to listen to his story.

At the next Bishops’ meeting, the Archbishop asked him
to give an account of his experiences. The Bishop of
Rochester says: ‘I think he must have spoken over an hour,
but I don’t think we took much count of time: it was done
with such ease and clearness and point.’

Everyone was keen to hear what he had to tell, and he
was always ready to show his photographs of, Russia and
recount his experiences. He also lectured several times
on the Coronation to most enthusiastic audiences, until the
requests were so numerous that he was obliged to say that
he would not do so any more. He kept up his own interest
in Russia, and especially studied the novels of Dostoiewsky,
who his Russian friends had told him was the most cha-
racteristic of their writers. He was always keen to read any
book which could add to his knowledge of Russia.

Immediately after his return he gave the Romanes lec-
ture at Oxford. He had had some difficulty about the
choice of a subject, and had consulted Dr. Garnett.

* December 27, 1895.

‘Dear Garnett,—The Romanes lecture was founded by the
late George Romanes at Oxford in imitation of the Rede
lecture at Cambridge. It hasonly existed for four years, and
the lecturers have been Gladstone, Huxley, Weismann and
Holman Hunt. It may be on any subject except politics or
religion. I enclose you a copy of my Rede lecture, when I
was fortunate enough to hit upon a new subject of some
interest. It was suggested to me by coming across a letter of
Humphry Duke of Gloucester, which I published in the
“Historical Review” last year. Working at the subject
suggested to me in turn the collecting of these remains into a
volume for the Roxburgh Club. The materials would fall
into two groups. (1) Italians connected with England.
(2) Englishmen who learned in Italy. The collection would
cease with the coming of Erasmus, when the English
Renaissance flowed into the general stream.’

‘The only subjects which I have in my head fora Romanes
lecture are ecclesiastical, and so will not do. I do not know
if “Oxford under Elizabeth” would not wander into
ecclesiastical affairs. “ Oxford Men of Letters in the Sixteenth

? This plan was never carried out.

166 THE CORONATION AT MOSCOW 1896

Century” are few and undistinguished. I wish Gabriel Harvey
or Sir John Harrington had been Oxford men.’
* April 6, 1896.

‘. .. After many struggles I fixed on a frivolous subject
for my Romanes lecture, “ English National Character.” It
came into my head @ propos of current events: but I mean
to plead that history ought to be written and studied more
with a view to the explanation of existing national character,
which is the permanent result of the past. Perhaps that
might occupy an hour without boring people too much.’

The lecture was delivered June 17.' He said that the
subject had been suggested to him by ‘the sudden interest in
our doings which other countfies had unanimously displayed.’
He traced the causes of the growth of that aloofness of
England from the general system of Europe, that desire to
go its own way which, in his opinion, did much to account for
the way in which England has been and is misunderstood by
other nations. The lecture is very characteristic of him both
in substance and in form. His love for his country led him
at all times to ponder much on English characteristics, to
compare English men and English customs with those of
other countries, by no means always to England’s advantage.
Many things in this lecture record the result of his own
observations as well as of his studies. There are frequent bits of
practical advice, such as : ‘ We should not be so uniformly and
aggressively reasonable in the advice which we tender them
[other nations] so freely.’ ‘ Perhaps it would be kind on our
part if we drew a sharper line of distinction between the
advice which we give to one another and that which we send
abroad.’ He exhorted Englishmen to try to adopt a more
sympathetic attitude to people of other nations. ‘ History
should teach us sympathy with the national past of other
peoples.’

The death of Lord Lilford in 1896 was a great grief
to him. To no one in his diocese had he felt more attracted,
and he had the warmest admiration for his life and character.
He writes of him:

‘To me he was a man of remarkable attainments and
singular charm, a man whom to know was a lifelong

' It is published in Héstorical Lectures and Addresses.

1896 LORD LILFORD 167

possession.... When first I met him we were entire
strangers. . . . I found a man confined to a bath chair, a man
with a massive head of great distinction, full of intelligence,
bearing traces of that fastidiousness which goes with culture,
but chiefly attractive by gentleness and a singular expression of
kindness. A very little conversation showed me that I was
in the presence of a man of remarkable intellectual power, and
we were soon talking with a freedom and a range of subjects
which to me was quite unexpected. I soon found that every-
thing I knew, or in which I was interested, was within his
ken. ... We talked of European literature, politics and
society. We compared notes of travel and experiences of
various peoples.’ ?

Intercourse with such a man was a delight and refresh-
ment, and the Bishop was glad of any excuse which
took him to Lilford. To our children no treat was more
welcome than a visit to the great collection of living birds
there. Lord Lilford delighted in children and they in
him. The Bishop writes :

‘Few more charming pictures linger in my memory than
one of Lord Lilford being wheeled in his chair through his
gardens, surrounded by a crowd of children, eager to ask him
questions about the birds, but restrained by the consciousness
that they must not come too near and push against him, all
hanging on his lips as, with quiet humour, he gave them
information suited to their needs.’

To Clementina Lady Lilford ‘ Peterborough : July 13, 1896.

_ *J will venture to write to Miss Powys some suggestions
about the Memoir. I shall be only too willing to put on
record what I knew and thought for the benefit of others. It
is indeed true that the young need now-a-days to have the
secret of character put before them. They are too apt to
think that they can enjoy the flower of life without its root.
‘I fear that life will seem to you dreary and empty for
some time to come. Indeed in your case it has been suddenly
emptied of its immediate contents. New interests can only
slowly form ; and they will form round the consciousness that
his character and person are an abiding possession, with a
power to renew. At first the sense of bereavement and of loss
is paramount ... you have first to face the fact of an
irreparable loss. But itis nota mere loss; there is much that
temains. The spirit survives and is more clearly seen and
* Introduction to the Memoir of Lord Lilford, by his Sister.

168 THE CORONATION AT MOSCOW 1896

more vividly understood. As you served the man while he
was here, and rejoiced in his companionship ; so it is possible
to serve still the abiding principle of his life—and find comfort
in spiritual communing with it, a part of the eternal life of the
world.

‘I know that this seems cold and intangible. We do not
know where to turn or what to door think ; but processes are
going on, healing processes of grace, which slowly make
themselves manifest.

‘ There is a beautiful sonnet of Petrarch, who sees Laura
in heaven amongst the angels ; she walks amongst them, but
from time to time turns her head and looks behind and seems to
be waiting for him:

Wherefore I raise to heaven my heart and mind
Because I hear her bid me only haste.

There remains a spell of life before the reunion: it is nota
desert, but has its beauties and its lessons. Can you think
that you are separated from him for a time that you may
learn to know him better ? that you may learn something more
to tell him hereafter—something that he taught you to learn
but which you had not time to learn while he was with you
because you were too busied with him?

‘There is a great principle applicable to common human
life in the words of our Lord, “ It is expedient for you that I
go away, for if I go not away the Comforter will not come
unto you.” There is a spiritual presence, superior in some
things to actual presence—not different but the same, only
appealing to other parts of one’s nature.

‘Forgive these imperfect thoughts. It is not through the
head that one gains comfort, but through the heart. Though
prayers are dull and dry, they open the heart to God, and He
speaks and guides and remakes.’

There were many country houses in the diocese where the
Bishop stayed with pleasure, and soon became a friend of
the family. His visits were almost invariably connected with
diocesan engagements. Other visits he seldom had time to
pay. For a holiday he preferred to get abroad, where he
was not known, where he need not talk, and could be at
peace. This desire for quiet and peace, his long silences
during days spent in mountain walks, show the need he felt
for times of thought and withdrawal into himself. But those
who saw him with others, the life and centre of a big party
in a country house, the storyteller at a dinner table, would

1896 DEATH OF JAMES ROBERT CREIGHTON 16g

have imagined that it was his delight to shine in society.
This was far from being the case; peace and quiet, time to
read a book, these were what he wanted ; he seldom went into
society without agroan. Of course he must have enjoyed it
when he was there, as everyone enjoys the sense of success,
and intercourse with young people was a real refreshment to
him. He found that the fact that he smoked helped him to
know youngmen. Round the fire in the smoking-room, after
the ladies and many of the elders had gone to bed, they could
forget that he was a bishop, and he was able to talk and get
them to talk without constraint or shyness.

In the summer of this year a great personal sorrow came
to him. His brother was discovered to be seriously ill, and,
after undergoing an operation, was sent home with the
certainty of having only about two months to live. The
Bishop was able to visit him twice during his illness, and was
with him during the last week of his life. James Robert
Creighton was a successful timber merchant in Carlisle, but
during the last year of his life he had chiefly devoted himself
to public affairs. He had been a leading member of the
Corporation for twenty two years, had twice been Mayor of
Carlisle, and had also been a member of the County Council.
He was considered by his fellow-citizens to have been the
pioneer of every movement for the development and improve-
ment of the city in his day. On his deathbed he asked his
brother to tell his fellow-citizens from him that he wished to
express to them as his last message ‘ his profound conviction
that the greatness of England was due to its capacity for
local self-government, and that its future progress depended
on the extension of this capacity; he trusted that Carlisle
would never be without a due supply of men who regarded it
as at once their duty and their pleasure to devote their zeal
and energy to the promotion of the common welfare.’

James Creighton’s wife had died three years before, and
his six children were left alone in the world, except for their
aunt and uncle.

To Count Balzani * The Snabs, Carlisle : September 12, 1896,

‘Thank you very much for your letter. It is severe to
watch for a week at the bedside of one whose mind remained

170 THE CORONATION AT MOSCOW 1806

perfectly clear to the very last, who looked steadfastly to the
end without flinching, and thought of everybody and every-
thing in the future with perfect calmness.

‘There was something quite startling in the detached way
in which he made wise provision for everything that might
happen to his children. For the last three years he had to
try and replace their mother to them ; it was hard to feel that
he too was passing away; but he did so with splendid
courage.

‘We are trying to comfort the orphans, who are all very
good and affectionate, but there are six of them, and the
youngest is only nine. We go back to Peterborough next
week. Luckily I was able to have this fortnight free.’

These days had been kept free, in order that he might
go to his old parish of Embleton to open a new school.
His successor in Embleton had just died, and been
succeeded by Mr. Bolland, the headmaster of the Worcester
Cathedral School. Now the visit to Embleton had to be
given up.

To the Rev. W. E. Bolland
‘ The Snabs, Carlisle: September 6, 1896.

‘I am very sorry not to be with you at the opening of the
school. It would have been a very great pleasure to me to
have had the opportunity of meeting old friends, who are
very dear to me, and of rejoicing with them at a great
advance in the welfare of Embleton. I had always felt that
the old school was inconveniently situated, and was not so
comfortable for the children as we should have wished. I
made one or two efforts to secure a better site, and arrange
for a new building. My attempts failed, and I could only
commend the matter to my successor. His perseverance has
been successful, and you must rejoice to enter upon the fruit
of his labours. The new school will be a lasting memorial of
his zeal and energy.

‘I know that you will not fail in interest in all that
concerns the training of the young. Nothing that can be
done, no sacrifice that is required, is too much for that all
important work. In each generation we must see much that
we can never achieve, and our hope must be in the
generations that are to succeed us. We can only labour
to build up their character, to convince them of our interest
in their welfare, and to send them out to face life’s
difficulties with the fear of God in their hearts. No pang
was so great to me in leaving Embleton as my leave-taking

896 + HIS NEPHEWS AND NIECES 171

of the children in the school. Some may perhaps still
remember bidding me good-bye.

‘T often think of things which I left undone at Embleton ;
may God give you His grace to do them better than I could
have done them... Say to all who are there on Tuesday that
I hope God may bless them, and prosper this new school to
His glory and the good of all who are trained therein.’

To the same ‘ The Snabs, Carlisle: September 10, 1896.
‘Thank you, and please thank everyone else, for your

kind sympathy. ... I am glad that your opening went off

well. . . . Such a gathering, as you say, does much good in

bringing people together. The worst of country life is the
prevalence of family and other quarrels, which harden into
standing feuds as in old days. The people at Embleton
were fond of music and dancing, and I tried to develop social
life as much as possible.

‘I think you will find that the best thing to do is to live
amongst the people, learn to understand them, and then
gently influence them individually. I gather that things have
improved steadily since I left; and I hope that some of the
seed I tried to sow has taken root. The northern people are
not readily receptive, but what they do receive grows. They
are quiet, sincere, and say /ess. not more than they think.
It is a great thing that they have received you warmly. You
must win their confidence; when once given it will not be
withdrawn.’

After staying as long as possible at Carlisle, we went to
Keswick that he might have a little change before going back
‘to work. Two days spent in rambling over the mountains
round Derwentwater revived his love for the Lake country.
He wrote to his niece, ‘We have just been devising a plan
that next August you and we, all of us, should take lodgings
somewhere in. the Lake country for three weeks. We can
occupy several farmhouses and make ourselves merry and
ramble at will.’

He took these orphan nieces and nephews to his heart as
if they were his own children. ‘I wish we could all live
together somewhere,’ he wrote to his niece, ‘but we have to
live where we are put and make the best of it. And you
know you are always in my thoughts, and we can help one
another as much by thinking and praying as we can by
actual talking.’ They continued to live together in the house

t72 THE CORONATION AT MOSCOW 1896

that their father had built near Carlisle; but they often visitea
us, and the Bishop was in constant communication with them.
However busy he was, he found time for his regular letters to
his nephews at school and his nieces at home. He said that
he must give them the best part of his own attention, as our
children had a mother to take care of them. We always
considered them as our own children.

The Diocesan Conference was held at Northampton at
the end of September. The Bishop devoted much of his
opening address to a consideration of the marriage laws,
particularly with regard to the question of marriage with a
deceased wife’s sister. He showed how the opposition to
such marriages rested on principles, and that the question
could not be decided simply by reasons of convenience. The
truth which the Church was specially bound to assert was
‘that progress is only possible if men are taught to submit
their individual wishes to the common good, and to find a
fuller satisfaction in curbing their desires for immediate
gratification of their impulses.’ !

He touched in the course of his address on the question
of the massacres in Armenia. Mr. Thursfield wrote to him
about what he said on this subject, and the Bishop answered
his criticisms in the following letter :

To Mr. J. R. Thursfield * Peterborough : October 3, 1896.

‘My dear Dick,—I am in entire agreement with you in
your main contention. But I could not, at a diocesan
conference, give a lecture on foreign politics: my language
led, as far as it went, to your conclusion. I said that we
should learn one thing, “the evil results which spring from
international jealousies in the past,” by which I meant our
unworthy treatment of Russia. I went on to say that it was
consequently hard for us “to prove the uprightness of our
intentions,” and I suggested that we should do our utmost to
make it clear that we were actuated by motives of humanity.
Iam afraid that in your quotation of my utterance you have
omitted the first part of the sentence: “ We must strengthen
the hands of our rulers by an assurance ¢hat we are all
united in our desires,” and that we trust in their wisdom “ to
translate that meaning into practical form.”

' The Church and the Nation, p. 148.

1896 RUSSIA AND ARMENIA 173

‘Of course such brief allusions are of no real value. But
I had in my mind exactly what you say. I am not prepared
to shriek about Armenia, because I do not think that those
who shriek are prepared to pay. There is no practical step
possible except to hand the whole thing over to Russia. Is
the public who shrieks prepared for this? I do not think so :
the old dread of Russia and India remains, and Russia in
Constantinople would be a shock. Well, how are we to pave
the way? I am ready to do anything that can be wisely
done. . . . Since my return I have had a talk with , in
which I very frankly stated my own opinions in favour of a
pro-Russian or rather cum-Russian attitude on our part. I
am doing all I can to promote it. But I must do it gently
and cautiously. There are many who are as much prepared
to denounce Russia as the Turk. Our friend would as
soon preside at an anti-Russian meeting as an anti-Turkish.
The defect of our policy as expressed by public meetings is
that it is hopelessly Pecksniffian. We do not recognise
differences of civilisation, modes of thought, above all concep-
tions of freedom. If English public meetings will say, “ We
recognise Russia as a great civilising power, with great
advantages for the work of pacifying Eastern Europe. We
will take all our jealousies and suspicions out of the way, and
will do our best to work hand in hand for the good of the
East ”"—well. But will they? :

‘I cannot take so strong a view as you do of the situa-
tion: it is serious, and horrible. But there have been many
horrors in the course of the world’s history, and we will never
get rid of them till we get rid of human sin. “ The wheels of
God grind slowly.” These things have torn up our national
‘policy in the past. It takes an effort to make a new one.
But the trend of men’s minds is to be slowly led in the right
direction. Englishmen above all other people refuse to think
things out: I am not sure that the disciplinary effect of
discovering that indignation meetings in England produce
nothing, is not a necessary step in the political education of
the British public. Let us hasten to saddle it with responsi-
bility. That was the upshot of my remarks: in my own
sphere I explain in private what I say in public, and my
utterances serve as texts for comments.

‘I am always projecting a visit to you, but I am always
horribly busy and business grows every year.’

At the end of September the Congregational Union met
in Leicester. When in Dr. Magee’s days the Church

174 THE CORONATION AT MOSCOW 1896

Congress was held there, the nonconformists were most kind
in offering hospitality, and the Bishop now asked his clergy
to remember this kindness and offer hospitality as far as
possible to the Congregationalists. He himself addressed
the following letter to the chairman of the Union:

‘September 30, 1896.

‘My dear Sir,—As representing the Church of England,
I venture to send a few words of greeting to the members
of the Congregational Union on the occasion of their meeting
at Leicester. Christian charity and Christian courtesy alike
demand some mutual recognition among the servants of the
Lord Jesus Christ. Though we differ, we may differ without
bitterness, and we may be asstred that greater knowledge of
one another’s principles and greater appreciation of one
another’s work will dispel prejudices and misconceptions, and
so reduce our differences to limits within which they may be
brought by reasonable discussion. We may see no way
towards agreement; but we may at least do something
towards knitting together the bonds of peace. There is one
wish which we can all share, and I send it to you in all
heartiness. May God’s Holy Spirit guide us all alike to
speak the truth in love, and in all we do and say to seek
first God’s kingdom and His righteousness.’

His letter was most cordially received and accepted in
the spirit in which it was written. In answering him the
chairman of the Union said, ‘Your lordship commands our
respectful admiration alike for your valuable contributions
to Christian literature, your zealous discharge of the duties
of your high office, and the liberal spirit you have shown in
your relations to other Churches. Nor are we insensible to
the great work your Church is doing. We rejoice to feel that
antagonism of principles need not be accompanied by a spirit
of narrow exclusiveness.’

In October he read a paper at the Shrewsbury Church
Congress on ‘The Idea of a National Church,’ probably the
most successful of his Congress papers. It was listened to
with rapt attention, frequently interrupted by signs of
approval and at the end was followed by such prolonged
applause, that he had to rise several times to acknowledge
it. Hesaid afterwards that he did not know what they wished
him to do, they would not leave off clapping, and he felt like

1896 THE SHREWSBURY CHURCH CONGRESS 175

a prima donna who had received an encore, yet he could not
be expected to read his paper again.

In this paper ' he defined what is meant by a National
Church. He said that it was a result of the conditions of
human life that the Church must admit differences of
organisation, that because man in the past could recognise
no unity that was not structural, they had, since human
frailty was unable to realise the spiritual order, save in the
forms of earthly polity, sacrificed unity, which is possible, to
uniformity, which is impossible. He spoke of the causes
which had made impossible the maintenance of a uniform
organisation of the Church, and through which the idea of a
National Church came into existence. To the National
Churches he said belonged ‘the right to determine the best
methods of setting forth to the people the contents of the
Christian faith” ‘The idea of a Church universal in its
organisation has failed, because it would not make room for two
forces which have been most powerful in shaping the modern
world—the forces of nationality and liberty.’ He concluded
by speaking of the work of a National Church. ‘It persuades
rather than commands; its weapon is influence, not power...
the Church of England has the satisfaction of knowing that
it is training the generations on whom the future of the world
depends, and it is content to gender sons and daughters into
freedom ...it works in hope of repairing breaches, and
restoring ancient ways.’

This paper was the expression of much that he had
thought about during the last year. His visit to Russia had
called forcible attention to the meaning of the national side
of the Russian Church; the uniformity in fundamental belief,
the difference in outward expression, of the Russian and
English Churches had increased his former conviction that, in
our imperfect condition, the outward forms of the Church
must be adapted to the characteristics of the different
nations. Moreover, beside his Russian experiences, he had
been following with sympathetic interest the efforts made
during the last year or so by Lord Halifax and others to
bring about a better understanding between the Church of
England and the Church of Rome.

' Published in Zhe Church and the Nation.

176 THE CORONATION AT MOSCOW 1894

In March 1894, Lord Halifax sent the Bishop a French
theological Review, containing an article by the Abbé
Portal, writing under the name of Dalbus, on Anglican
Orders, saying how much he wished that ‘something
sympathetic in regard to such a treatise, and in reference to
the desire for unity which it shows, could be put out by
someone in authority.’ To this the Bishop answered :

‘ Peterborough: Easter Eve, 1894.

‘Thank you very much for sending me P. Dalbus. He is
in outlying points very fair, and practically admits all that
we want. But it is very difficult to take him seriously at the
end. On his last page he corrects the Bishop of Oxford for
saying that in the eyes of* R. C.’s, all we need is papal
approbation. Yet this is the one point he makes against us.
The materia of Orders is the jporrectio patene cum pane,
because Pope Eugenius IV. said so; and even if he was quite
wrong in so saying, nothing but a general council could
change it. We changed it without a general council, and so
our Orders are invalid.

‘Any Roman controversy always comes back to the same
point: but since the development of Neo-Ultramontanism,
controversialists have seemed fairer and more sympathetic,
because they could give up the old stories, and be fair-minded
with safety. They had an arm in reserve. When pressed,
they could always say: “ You are probably quite right: but
you acted without the sanction of a general council : there-
fore your action can never be right.” Now a general council
means to them a council summoned by the Pope, and passing
decrees which the Pope sanctioned. As the Church of
England owed its rise to the necessity for abolishing the
papal jurisdiction, it manifestly could not claim the papal
consent to that step. Therefore all its proceedings have been
invalid. Moreover they cannot be made valid without the
Pope’s sanction; and the Pope cannot give that sanction
without destroying his own historical claims. It is for this
reason that I think the Roman controversy is really barren
so far as the Romans are concerned. You may go on well
enough for a certain distance, and then comes the blank wall
of the papal monarchy. What Episcopacy is to us as regards
nonconformists, the Papacy is to the Romans as against us.

‘These remarks are not fitting to this season; but I send
them when I can, not when I would. My best Easter
greetings to you.’

In the following summer (1894) the Abbé Portal came to

1895 VALIDITY OF ANGLICAN ORDERS 177

England, and Lord Halifax brought him to spend a night at
Peterborough. After this visit the Bishop wrote:

To Lord Halifax ‘ Peterborough: August 20, 1894.

‘Your visit was a great pleasure to me. The Abbé Portal
was quite charming, and I sincerely hope that his visit to
England may be productive of fruit. Good understanding
can only come from knowledge and sympathy. In foro juris
the arguments may go on for ever. The great step to
agreement is the discovery that “except in opinion we do not
greatly differ.” Then opinion is reduced to its due proportion.’

These letters show that the Bishop was not very hopeful
about the result of the movement to obtain recognition from
the Pope of the validity of English Orders. Lord Halifax
was in Rome in the spring of 1895 and wrote to him about
the interviews he had had with some leading ecclesiastics -

To Viscount Halifax ‘Sorrento: Ash Wednesday, 1895,

‘My dear Lord Halifax,—Your letter and its enclosures
are most interesting to me and give much food for meditation.
The practical question in all such matters is, Who is to begin ?
That is the great difficulty in all great reforms; the first step
must be made by whom?

‘Now on the immediate question, the validity of Anglican
Orders, I can see the Archbishop’s reasons for hesitating.
The attitude of Cardinal Vaughan has been very aggressive
and exasperating. It is impossible to admit that the Church
of England is on trial, or asks for any recognition. There is no
doubt amongst us of the validity of our Orders ; we are quite
satisfied. Roman theologians have denied it, and have thereby
made thebreach. If they thought fit to take any steps to heal
it, the effect would doubtless be great. The restoration of
the unity of Christendom will be—not by affirming any one
of the existing systems as universal, but by a federation.
What we have to do is to sweep away foolish and one-sided
controversy, and seek the unity of the spirit in the bond of
peace. Natural differences, the sense of individual liberty,
habits and modes of thought are too strong to be set aside.
But there is no real reason why these should not be
accommodated in one system, which admits of gradations. In
the Medizval Church, for instance, the Franciscans were at
first something like the Salvation Army—only they denied
nothing, and did not profess that their way was the only way.
The Medieval Church was very liberal to those who were

VOL, IL, N

178 THE CORONATION AT MOSCOW 1895

only positive, and not negative. Men might be as simple as
they chose in their beliefs and in their practice, but it was not
for them to object to what the Church had once allowed.
Now some such conception as this must be at the bottom of
reunion. We do not differ—any Christians—about the contents
of the Christian faith, but about the proportion of them, and
the means of their application to the individual soul. The real
point of difference is about the means. Well, if someone
says to me “] have found such and such means good for me”
—even though they seem to me complicated, and in some
ways unreasonable, why should I object? If another says “ I
do not find your means useful to me, and I want something
more direct and more personal and simpler,” I must on the
same grounds put up with*him. If these various methods
were put side by side, were allowed to work as parts of one
system, the best would slowly make their power felt and
approve themselves. But at present nonconformists do not
discover their poverty: the Romans do not discover their
want of contact with actual life. That is their real defect.
They are upholding a system, not making it operative on life.
Greater knowledge of our Church would help them greatly in
this : and we need to know something of the greater versatility
and adaptability of their methods.

‘This is becoming a discourse; let me sum up by saying
that if any recognition of our position were given by the Pope,
it would be of enormous use: but we cannot ask for it with-
out putting ourselves in the wrong. We have done nothing
to invalidate our Orders: Rome has wantonly denied them in
the past. We at our worst have never unchurched Rome:
latterly we have been almost too kind to her.’

The Bishop hoped at least that a better understanding
might arise from these negotiations. When in April 1895 the
Pope issued his letter to the English people, and many were
irritated at what they considered its patronising tone, he
preferred to regard it as a mark of friendliness. He said at
his Diocesan Conference :

‘The fact that Pope Leo XIII. should have issued a letter
to the English people is at least a manifestation of good will.
I do not like to criticise that letter in detail. It was addressed
to the English people, probably as an indication that no answer
was expected. From me at least it shall receive none. I
think we may accept a token of friendliness and of Christian
sympathy in the spirit which it expresses. We must expect

1896 VALIDITY OF ANGLICAN ORDERS 179

that everyone who speaks of Christian unity should speak
from his own point of view. That is inevitable. Everyone
contemplates unity on the supposition that everyone else will
ultimately agree with himself. How could he do otherwise?
The first step must necessarily be to make us all more deeply
conscious of the intellectual, the historical, and the sentimental
differences which keep us asunder. But intercourse, friendly
feeling, and reflection will enable us or our children to remove
misunderstanding, to dissolve the veil of sentiment, to go
behind the prejudices created by mistakes and misdoings in
the past, to separate what is accidental and temporary from
what is essential, to discover the real importance of the points
which keep us asunder, to raise controversy above passion, to
discuss principles without being troubled by the thoughts of
temporary loss or gain. . . . Controversy is unfruitful when it
is blinded by prejudice; it is only useful when it is directed
towards the discovery of truth. It is premature to discuss at
present methods of reunion, they must be left in the hands of
God.’

Holding such opinions, he could not fail to regret deeply
the publication on September 13, 1896, of the Bull of
Leo XIII., which denied the validity of English Orders.
This, which might well be regarded as a gratuitous insult to
the English Church, could certainly not tend to remove
misunderstanding. The Bishop expressed his opinion of the
Pope’s action in a letter to Mr. Birkbeck :

‘ Peterborough ; September 14, 1896.

_ ‘,.. The Pope of Rome has been at his old games; and
doubtless Vaughan and Co, are chuckling. I think their
victory will not profit them even in this world. It will entail
on them a very long Purgatory in the next. I wonder if they
have provided themselves adequately with Indulgences. But
for the present and for the long future, this will end the
leanings of the foolish towards the Western Church and will
bring the Eastern Church into greater prominence.’

He at once agreed when it was suggested to him that an
authoritative answer should be made to the Pope’s letter ; and
wrote on the subject to the Archbishop (Dr. Benson), who
answered :

‘September 23, 1896.

‘My present opinion is that it would be desirable that
a sufficient and strong document should appear from our

N2

180 THE CORONATION AT MOSCOW 1896

Episcopate (addressed ad Anglos). And none could so fitly
prepare one as yourself, Oxford and Sarum. Weshould have
to lay it before the bishops.’

The Bishop of Salisbury came at once to Peterborough,
when the first draft of the answer was drawn up to be submitted
to the Archbishop, who was then in Ireland.

Before he could return it, there came the overwhelming
shock of his sudden death.

To the Bishop of Salisbury ‘ Peterborough: October 12, 1896.

‘My dear Brother,—The awful news this morning has
filled us all with profound sorrow. It is useless to speak of
the great blow which has so suddenly befallen us; we shall
only slowly appreciate all that it means.

‘But meanwhile we must do our duty, and feel in-
creasingly the need of promptitude in carrying out what we
have begun. I have been acting all through as the Arch-
bishop’s secretary for this matter: and I have a number of
letters from him endorsing all that we are doing. It was his
intention to send on the draft to the Archbishop of York:
and then I suggested it should be put in type for revision.
I spoke to the Archbishop of York at Shrewsbury about
it, and he quite agreed. It is now desirable that the draft
should go to him: I will write to the Archbishop’s chaplain
on this matter. But it isa terrible strain to think of anything
at present.’

* Peterborough : October 27, 1896.

‘Dear Brother,—I have been looking for (ze. expecting)
your draft. Perhaps you paused during the vacancy. But
now—can we not get on, so that it may be one of the first
acts of the new Primate?’

The Bishop’s wish was carried out. The new Primate
(Dr. Temple) carefully considered and amended the document
which had been drawn up, and it was issued in February
1897 as an ‘Answer of the Archbishops of England to
the Apostolic Letter of Pope Leo XIII.’ addressed ‘to the
whole body of Bishops of the Catholic Church.’

The following letters show what were the Bishop’s views
in helping to draw up this answer to the Pope:

To the Rev. W. Collins ‘Exeter: October 11, 1896.

‘. .. About the Roman Controversy : our position is to
make clear that the national breach with the Papacy is still

1896 VALIDITY OF ANGLICAN ORDERS 181

on the same question—the papal jurisdiction—all comes to
this. The Roman maintains that the papal supremacy is
absolutely necessary, and that all are heretics who decline it.
Talk about Orders and all the rest ultimately comes to some
technical point, resting solely on the authority of a decretal.
Press a Roman to the ultimate point, and it is the papal
authority. The papal power is the one point to get at and
expose.’

To Mr. W. J. Birkbeck ‘ November 18, 1896.

‘I propose to make the Romans cross on the lines which
I have taken up. Their ignorance must be exposed and the
bubble of their pretentiousness continually pricked. But I
do not want to read any of their retorts. A knowledge of
what they say insensibly leads one to reply in the next thing
one says oneself. This is a form of controversy, and I detest
controversy. I want to speak the truth and leave fibs to the
other side.’

The following is a letter to the Rev. W. Collins about a
paper on the subject which he had submitted to the Bishop :

* Peterborough : December 1, 1896.

‘I advise a readjustment from the point of view of a clear
statement for those who are not great Latinists.

‘On slip 5 go on “Without dogmatising, or without
assuming any claim to infallibility, we venture to put forward
some evidence to prove

~*“(1) that the body of the document was written, doubt-
less by eminent theologians, in the English tongue.
' £“(2) that it was translated into Latin by some persons
who either had an imperfect knowledge of English, or of
Latin, or probably of both,

*“(3) That portions of the document were written in
Latin, probably by the Pope himself, and were translated into
English by persons who either were not skilled in the
accuracies of the Latin tongue, or who had so completely
made up their minds what the Pope ought to have said, that
their zeal to make him say it outsped their attention to his
actual words.”

‘Then rearrange your evidence under these heads. Under
(1) say that you have already shown that there is no research,
and that all the knowledge except a dark sentence about
Gordon was open to anyone in England. Then gather the
Passages which show from their sense that the English

182 THE CORONATION AT MOSCOW 1895

original was prior . .. print the Latin and English in
parallel columns.

‘(2) Gather all the ludicrous mistranslations of the
English.

‘(3) . . . Make the introduction stronger “ When we turn
to consider the composition of Leo XIII. himself, we find a
pious conclusion written in flowing style, which contrasts with
the creaking and lumbering form which was doubtless inten-
tionally adopted for arguments about which the writers seem
to have felt that ambiguity was safest, and that the less said
the better. The translators fail entirely to reproduce its
niceties. Their minds are not attuned to the Pope’s mode
of thinking, and they drag it to a lower level, while they
attempt to give it greater unction.” .. . Do not think I am
troublesome, but the success of this depends on its method.
It must interest people who care about criticism, and its points
must be clear.

‘The Romans must be smitten just now. It is unfortu-
nately necessary to pin them. We must dispel the glamour
once for all and get free. We have the chance. They have
hoped to make a coup: we must turn it into a disastrous
failure.’

LETTERS 1895-1896

In answer to a letter asking him to be lenient to one whom he had had cause
to rebuke severely :
‘ Peterborough: February 2, 1895.

‘It was very nice of you to write to me as you did. It
was quite natural of you to pity and to think that I had
been severe, but, my dear boy, one must be severe. Life is
severe. God is severe. We all do wrong, but we must all be
taught repentance. You know that the Foolish Virgins were
only a little careless and lazy, but they were shut out. It is
just that carelessness and laziness which lead to everything
that is most wrong. No one means to do anything wrong,
but they slip into it. The great cause of all wrong is just
doing the easiest and least troublesome thing, and trusting
that all will come right.

‘However I had a letter from this morning which
shows that he sees this. If he sees it, all may be put right,
and he may learn wisdom for the future. I trust that it may
be of some use to you to see how easily one gets into a sin
without meaning it. But if people are idle and without self-
control, their natural propensity is to do the wrong thing.
This must be seen and cured. I have written to to tell
him to learn wisdom in the future,’

1895 LETTERS 183

To the Rev. Ty Lacey * Peterborough : May 19, 1895.

‘I have just come back from Rome, and received your
letter with great pleasure. Your paper on the Roman Claims
is excellent, and goes to the point—/he one point. All Roman
arguments resolve themselves into the assertion of the
necessity of submission to papal jurisdiction. It is not
primacy, or recognition, but it is absolute submission to papal
jurisdiction which is the one necessity for Catholicity accord-
ing to the modern Roman view. This view is not that of the
present Pope, I believe; but an institution grasps at power,
because so many officials depend on its existence. This was
the fons et origo mali in the sixteenth century. The revolt
was against an extortionate Curia, and the Pope upheld it
because he could not escape. This is the real hindrance still.
Arguments about outlying things have really little weight:
they are merely outposts to defend the central position.

To the Rev. G. C. Bell (Headmaster of Marlborough College)
‘ Peterborough : August 2, 1895.

‘My dear Bell,—I am glad that Cuthbert leaves Marl-
borough with a good record. He has much to learn, like the
rest of us: public schools teach some things and neglect
others. At the best they are a period of one-sided develop-
ment, and are consequently fraught with danger. You know
that I am no unqualified admirer of the system. In fact I
think that the problem of the future is the entire change of
all our views about education from top to bottom. But this
is a slow process. At present we live in makeshifts. But
I should like to say that I am quite satisfied with the result
of Marlborough on Cuthbert. It has done for him all that
‘I could have expected. At the same time I feel that that is
largely due to your personal influence and care, With
another master it might have been otherwise.’

To the Rev. Canon Watson, Rector of Sharnford
‘ Peterborough : September 18, 1895.
‘The subject of the Vestry is at once so difficult and so
important that I think it needs full discussion. My own wish
is briefly this. (1) For the purposes of the existing vestry,
the care of the church, and the appointment of church-
wardens—the vestry must remain as at present constituted.
(2) But I wish to see that vestry become the constituent
of an ecclesiastical parish council, chosen from members of
the church, which should have certain recognised powers,
among them the election of a representative at R. D,

134 THE CORONATION AT MOSCOW 1895

conferences, which I should like similarly to see possessed
of definite powers of some kind and become an ecclesiastical
district council. I do not see that the care of the church
and the administration of ecclesiastical charities can be
taken out of the hands of all parishioners.’

To Mr. W. S. Lilly ‘ Peterborough : October 6, 1895.

‘Thank you very much for your article, which is excellent.
It lays hold of the most hopeful feature of the present day—
that we really have advanced in the pursuit of truth, and that
we are willing to waive prejudice,—or at least introduce
it only when it seems necessary to recognise the inherent
limitations of any particular practice.

‘I suppose you would defend More? on this ground. As
a theorist he was free, in practice he must act with a view to
circumstances. I could acquit himif he had merely executed
the law. My difficulty is that he defended it on grounds
which he had already theoretically abandoned and condemned.
I admire More, but he had that weakness which haunts men
of letters when they become politicians. Their command
of language leads them astray ; they confuse principles. Of
course More can be defended on the ground that the “ Utopia ”
was a skit, and only expressed tendencies which were hope-
less of practical realisation. Indeed it might be urged that
it was written to show the hopelessness of idealism.

‘I am waiting for Acton’s Inaugural in an authorised form.
I was disappointed that a change of the day prevented me
from hearing it. I am glad to think that I was concerned in
persuading Acton to go to Cambridge.’

To Miss Constance Barrett ‘Peterborough: October 22, 1895.

‘It was very nice of you to write to me. I saw, on
glancing at the proceedings on Saturday, that I should not
have time to speak. Whenever you organise anything in an
afternoon remember :

‘(1) To begin at 3 punctually, because at 4.30 every-
one’s thoughts turn tea-wards.

‘(2) To tell the chairman that he must not speak more
than ten minutes.

‘(3) To eschew windbags even though they be mar-
quises.

‘(4) Never to have more than three speakers besides the
chairman.

1 In reply to some criticisms of Mr. Lilly’s on the Bishop’s Hulsean lectures
on Persecution and Toleration.

1895 / LETTERS 185

‘.... 1 do not mind telling you what I meant to say—
that teaching was best envisaged as an introduction betweer.
the youthful mind and divine knowledge. All that the
teacher could do was to make the introduction as little awe-
some as possible. The intimacy between the two parties
must be of their making. Yet how much lies in introductions.
The old plan in which some one muttered “ Mrs. Hum-hum,
let me introduce Mr. Ha-ha,” left two people embarrassed in
the presence of one another with a sense that something was
expected of them but with no clueto follow. The chances are
that they hate one another at first sight. You can follow out
the line of thought.

‘It is never worth while speculating how or why two
people get to know one another. It is enough to accept the
fact as a thing given. You and I know one another, don’t we?
Then I always think it is best to say so and accept the fact.
If I can be of any use to you, well. I am always ready.
Use me if you will, if I can be of anyuse. Anyhow life gives
us nothing better than kindly and sympathetic thoughts one
of another. Looks and words of recognition make life easier
for us all.’

To Lord Halifax * Peterborough : November 2, 1895.

‘I send you my paper! as apoor return for yours. The
Archbishop is desirous to issue it for the Central Church
Society, so it will be generally accessible.

‘I do not think your utterance at Norwich was at all rash.
But there is one point which I think you ought to keep before
you. Englishmen will not be moved by the argument that
‘Roman formule are capable of being explained away. Of
course we know that Rome’s method has been one of accom-
modation and that her practices vary immensely, and that her
formule are held in various senses. In fact, Rome has always
followed, and has not directed, popular religious opinion.
This is just where the average Englishman takes alarm. He
believes in ¢ruth; he wants not the widest but the truest
statement : he believes in raising and educating the people,
not in finding room for their fancies and sentiments. There
is somewhere the essential difference between the Latin and
the Teutonic mind to be got over. It was this which asserted
itself in the sixteenth century. The Reformation was the
effect, not the cause, of a breach which had slowly grown :
and the Teuton has been justified by its results.’

* The paper read at the Norwich Church Congress,

186 THE CORONATION AT MOSCOW 1898

In answer to a request to take part in the movement to grant degrees to
women :

To Miss Alice Gardner December 10, 1895.

‘No, I cannot take part in any movement towards an
organic change in the university system. It has always
seemed to me a very grave question—carrying much with it.
If there was any hope that the University would institute a
drastic reorganisation of its system, I should rejoice. I could
conceive the possibility of keeping the universities as corpo-
rations of students on certain defined lines, and then confer-
ring titles of competency on recognised terms to other persons,
who were not candidates for membership. But I do not
see my way to considering merely women assuch. The desire
to write B.A. after one’s name—and to assert that you want
to do so in the hopes of deluding people in Australia—these
are things in which I cannot profess to concur.

‘You will forgive me.’

* Peterborough : December 16, 1895.

‘I do not quite think that you understand my point of
view. I have no objection whatever to women becoming full
members of the university. But I want first of all to havea
clear definition of what is necessary for such membership. I
doubt if such a definition as would satisfy me would meet the
requirements of those interested in women’s education. In
fact “a degree” has slowly changed its meaning, or rather its
meaning is confused. Originally it meant membership of a
corporation with certain rights attached: now it means a
certificate of having passed examinations which are supposed
to imply some capacity for teaching.

‘I want the university to face the whole question—ts
separate membership from certificates; to consider what
will constitute a M.A., and to leave the B.A. in two classes
(1) a badge of certain proficiency, (2) a step to M.A. The
conditions for (1) need not be the same as for (2). But the
procedure might differ ad initio. I pronounce no opinion
whether or no the question of sex should be included
under (2). Personally I think not; but it ought not to
remit any part of what is thought desirable.’

To Professor H. Sidgwick
‘ The Palace, Peterborough: December 12, 1895.
‘My dear Sidgwick,—I quite agree with you that things
are not now as they were in 1887, and that the question of
degrees to women is one which must be considered. But all

1895 LETTERS 187

I can see my way to is an attitude of benevolent neutrality
in the first instance. I would discourage any opposition to
the request for a syndicate to consider that question, but I
increasingly feel that the interference of non-residents in
university affairs is undesirable, and I feel that in this case
my judgment on the matter of principle goes in one direction,
and my sense of expediency goes in another. I am willing to
discuss what I cannot approve. That is all.

‘I am afraid that I should be considered a pedant ; but I
have a sense of the constitution of a university. Several
recent changes have confused the old constitutional lines. I
wish to see some plan by which the degree, as constituting
its recipient a member of the uwnzversttas or corporation,
should be distinguished entirely from the degree as a badge
of educational proficiency. If this could be done, I should
be quite satisfied. Only it ought to be done on a general
principle. My dread is of the university ceasing to be an
organised body, and becoming a rabble, connected only by
the payment of fees. If the university can only say what it
is I [it?] can do as it likes.’

To Mr. W. Alison Phillips

In answer to a question about the way in which the inaccuracy of the assertion
made by a Roman Catholic that the spiritual jurisdiction of an Anglican bishop
is derived from the sovereign could best be demonstrated.

‘ The Palace, Peterborough : December 26, 1895.

‘My dear Mr. Phillips——Controversy is generally con-
cerned with the hopeless task of contradicting old misrepre-
sentations, which are never abandoned.

_ Let me put the facts as briefly as possible about the
point you enquire about.

‘A bishopric is a barony, and has always been so. It
descends not by inheritance, but by election. Hence on each
vacancy it is under the guardianship of the crown, and has to
be conferred afresh on the new holder. This has always
been so: and in the good old times, which your friends
would like to restore, bishoprics were frequently kept vacant
for three, four, or five years, during which the crown enjoyed
their revenues. Now they are filled up as soon as possible.
The bishop after consecration enters upon his spiritual
functions in their entirety; but he is not possessed of his
barony till he has done homage. The ceremony is the old
feudal ceremony: he kneels before the Queen, places his
hands between hers, and recites an oath of temporal
allegiance ; then he kisses hands. A similar process occurs

188 THE CORONATION AT MOSCOW 1896

~ in the case of every clergyman admitted to a benefice. He is
first instituted to the spiritual function by the bishop; he then
takes a certificate to that effect to the archdeacon, who
inducts him to the temporalities.

‘It is curious to note that the only other survival of the
old form of homage is in conferring the M.A. degree at
Cambridge. There the recipient kneels and places his
hands in the hands of the vice-chancellor.

‘I hope I have made the point clear. Consecration in
itself confers on a bishop all the spiritual powers of his
office: he can after that ordain, and consecrate, and perform
all episcopal acts. But he has not the temporal rights of his
barony till he has done homage. The only practical
inconvenience which occurs through delaying homage, as is
sometimes inevitable, is that, if benefices fall vacant, of which
the bishop is patron, he cannot exercise the right of
patronage, as that is the right which goes with his barony.’

To the Rev. G. C. Bell (Headmaster of Marlborough College)
‘ Peterborough : January 1, 1895 [96].

‘My dear Bell,— ... I noticed that in his report
impressed his masters as childish. This arises because he went
straight from home. I expect in such circumstances that the
first term will be spent in finding his feet among other boys,
and the ways of school life will be new. But, then, this is part
of my view of what is desirable. I decidedly wish that boys
should remain boys as long as possible. Hence I dislike
preparatory schools and all their works. The quality which I
most wish to cherish is the capacity for growing, both intel-
lectually and morally. It is this quality which our present
system increasingly destroys. The object of the master of a
preparatory school is that the boy should get a scholarship
at a public school. The object of a public school is that he
should get a scholarship at the university. The object of
the college tutor is that he should get a first class. These
may, or may not, be good things; they are if they come of
themselves, but they are not worth the seeking. I foresee an
entire revolution in our educational system coming from the
discovery that success in it does not mean success in life; ze.
that it does not take into account the real qualities of human
character.

‘Think of the change that has come about in that way.
In the old rough-and-tumble days, men got first classes by
their ability and force of character. Gladstone and his
contemporaries did. Balfour and his contemporaries do not.
Again, take bishops. I am the only one amongst the

1896 LETTERS 189

younger lot who gained academical distinction.’ I am quite
appalled to think that in selecting men for promotion in my
diocese, their university degree is never an element which
comes into consideration. The cleverest and most intelligent
man amongst my younger clergy is a passman from Durham
University. Now these things seem to me significant of a
crash. The British public is slow, but it finds out when an
article does not pay. The higher education is ceasing to
pay. The upper class has found this out. Young men of
position are not now sent to the university, but go on a tour
round the world, as being more educational for actual life.

‘Forgive this long harangue, but I wished to explain to
you why I am no believer in our present system. I am
content to use it, but I do not submit to it. The most
dangerous part is the preparatory school, for it is applied
earliest, and succeeds in turning out boys as per sample, in
the right form for the educational mill. Now I do not want
to have my sons ground into the regulation shape; I want
them to be left capable of learning even at the age of 25.
You will forgive my obstinacy.

You will be glad to know that I am quite satisfied with
Cuthbert’s first term at college. His mind has expanded
normally; his interests have developed: he reads in the
vacation with steadiness, and talks intelligently without
ceasing to be a boy, or losing the inestimable capacity of
playing the fool. His tutor speaks well of him. He
develops qualities of practical usefulness. He can influence
others.

‘I am a student of the Renaissance. Then they under-
stood education to be the development of the whole man. I
‘am still old-fashioned ...I have not thanked you for the
trouble you have taken, but I do so very heartily.’

To the Bishop of Norwich
‘Church House, Westminster: February 14, 1896.

‘My dear Bishop—I have been thinking over the
question you asked yesterday.

‘It seems to me that in depostng a clerk, I should act on
the same principles as if I were hanging him. We hang a
mar for a definite act, which he is proved to have committed.
He may have been a very respectable man previously, and if
his life were spared he might spend it very profitably. But
he is hanged to show the detestation felt to his act.

“I should degrade a man for a like reason : not because he

* The Bishop forgot that Dr. Jayne, Bishop of Chester, and Dr. Talbot,
Bishop of Rochester, are both double firsts. ”

190 THE CORONATION AT MOSCOW 1896

is [a] useless or unworthy priest, but because his act is such
that it is impossible he should remain a priest.

‘Hence I should degrade for a definite action not a
constructive charge.’

To the Rev. G. C. Bell ‘Peterborough: April 8, 1896.

‘My dear Bell,—I never wrote about religious education in
secondary schools. There have been utterances at Church
congresses more than once: but it is a difficult subject. I
am not going to the Cambridge conference. The whole
matter falls into another shape since the new Bill... .

‘From my experiences at the university I should say
that schoolmastering as a profession suffered from want of
vocation. Very few men meant to be schoolmasters, they
found themselves driven to it for the most part. This is bad.
There is nothing which parents ought to insist on more than
that boys should consider in time what they ought todo. I
once examined all the men I could find at Cambridge on that
point. The number who had any definite plan of a future
was infinitesimal. The ordinary answer was “Oh, I suppose my
father will. find something when I leave the university.” I was
so horrified that I preached a sermon on the subject.’

To Mr. Charles Roundell ‘ Peterborough : July 21, 1896.

‘My dear Roundell,—I am much obliged to you for your
letter ; it was very good of you to write it. With all your
diagnosis of present symptoms I entirely agree. I gather that,
though your remarks are confined to the Church, you see the
same process in every branch of human effort, not only in
England but universally. We are in a period of uncertainty
such as history has never witnessed. Science has said its say
and has led nowhere; rationalism has led nowhere;
materialism has no hopes. In politics machinery has broken
down; liberalism is bankrupt. In international affairs no
country has a clear ideal of its line of progress. Statesman-
ship has almost ceased to exist : everyone is conscious of
forces which he cannot control, of impulses and instincts
generated in the past, not to be regulated by any reasoning
which can be framed at present. How things are going to
settle down no one can say.

‘I think these symptoms arise from the force of the
disintegrating powers, which promised what they could not
perform, and pointed to possibilities which they could not
realise. They had this great influence for good, that they
awakened conscience, and this result still remains. It

1896 LETTERS 191

produces the curious condition that men are living on a moral
sense, transmitted and inherited, while they are restive under
the discipline and claims of the systems which generated that
moral sense. They are living on the fruits of a tree of which
they are anxious to cut away the roots. This is especially
visible in the decay of Nonconformity. Originally it was a
system of rigid discipline founded on the theology of Calvin.
The theology decayed, and Nonconformity tried to keep its
spirit by identifying itself with Liberalism. It was frankly
ready to say and do what the most enlightened people wished
to have said and done. The result has been disaster.

‘Now what can the Church do inthis crisis? It must keep
alive Christian principles as the basis of national life. For my
own part I believe that the attack on Christianity is
intellectually repulsed. Most people feel that, and they want
to work back to Christian principles by minimising them.
This is called “undenominational Christianity” ze. as much
fruit and as little root as possible. A popular audience will
always cheer a reference to “true religion stripped of the bonds
of theology,” z.e. the results of the Christian conscience without
the faith which formed it. Of course we now have reached
the actual question of the present day. This underlies the
education question, this animates Deceased Wife’s Sister and
all the rest. It is the great question of the future.

‘This is the point of view from which I regard the question
which you raise about sacerdotal pretensions. The term is
used vaguely.' It- means, in some people’s mouths, the
maintenance of the historic organisation of the Church of
England. This I think must be upheld in the interests of the
nation. The machinery of the State may change, because it
exists to do the people’s will. But the Church exists to
uphold what it considers to be the truth; and though the
application of that truth may vary according to the times, the
truth itself remains, better understood, it may be, but itself
unchanged. If“ sacerdotal pretensions ” mean tendencies on
the part of the clergy to revert to modes of teaching which
have been wisely abandoned, then I think they must be
checked by all means. I admit that there are such tendencies :
I deplore all demonstrations of clerical arrogance as being the
temptations to which undisciplined zeal is exposed, and
which constitute a real danger. My idea of the Church is an
organised society holding a truth which it strives by every

‘ Mr. Roundell had said in his letter ‘There is a strong feeling that the
dominant party in the Church is a sacerdotal party, and that there is nothing for
it but to offer the most determined opposition to all such pretensions.’

192 THE CORONATION AT MOSCOW 1896

means to set forth in the form which is most intelligible. The
conception of sacerdotalism comes in when there is a
suggestion that the interests of the Church are different from
the society which it serves,

‘But I have no fear of any permanent harm from
eccentric restlessness. The English conception of liberty is too
strong to be set aside. Foolish experiments will be reduced
to due proportions by the working of common sense.

‘There is, however, this great danger in modern politics—
the enormous power gained by small resolute bodies.
Extreme people are always shouting and protesting : moderate
men are content to work quietly. Bishops see most of this
latter class, in clergy and laity alike. The Church is always
being judged by the formers

‘I need hardly say in conclusion that my own endeavour is
to understand the views of laymen. I try to seeand talk freely
with every class, and I try my utmost to abate clerical pre-

. ° >
tentiousness in every form. ‘Peterbordugh: Angust rz, 1896.

‘My dear Roundell,—Thank you for your very interesting
letter. I jot down merely a few thoughts which it suggests.

‘(1) There is a barbaric element in society. It would
seem that every organism carries with it some traces of its
process of development, as a warning that it may recede if it
does not advance,

‘(2) The organisation of the world into nations is in one
way fruitful of hope. The spiritual force which moves may
pass from one to another. Nations are strong as they
produce character. So far as I can judge, England and Russia
are foremost in this power. I take little account of America ;
it is yet an experiment.

*(3) Questions about Church and State, or Church and
science, or Church and society, are really questions about the
adjustment between principles in themselves and _ their
practical application. The needs of society always seem
simple and easy of settlement: really they have to be
gradually incorporated into a complex organism by a process
of adjustment which looks like struggle. Take education, for
instance. It seems easy to procure it on purely utilitarian
grounds; but you would wish it to contain principles of
knowledge, capable of expansion, z.e. you have a system of
psychology and of mental philosophy, which are not understood
or appreciated by the masses. If youstated your system you
would be regarded as a pedant; so you fall in with popular
demand, and try to make it more intelligent where and how
you can.

1896 LETTERS 193

‘(4) This is what the Church does about everything. It
has principles about every part of life: many hold those
principles pedantically : in many points their system is too
abstract ; it is always undergoing silent modifications. Yet
there must be a system of some sort ; and it cannot rapidly
change in its outward appearance—else the sense of system
would disappear f

‘(5) I really think that the intimate connexion of the
Church of Engiand with national life works this change in
a remarkably real way. You see one side, I see another.
You see the theoretical differences: I see the practical
adaptation.

‘(6) People will always differ about the permanence of
existing tendencies of thought, the value ofits apparent results.
You must expect the Church to err on the side of caution.’

To Mr. W. S. Lilly
(in answer to his criticism of the Bishop’s views about Sir Thomas More)
‘ Peterborough : October 20, 1896.

... ‘You will think me very inconsistent if I say that I
agree with what you say in answer to my remarks. It is the
answer of the practical historian to the ideal historian; of one
who is tracing human affairs in relation to human character
to one who is dealing with ideas. It is obvious that the
great difficulty which besets any man in a high position is
to be true in all his actions to the best he knows. Ideas
struggle into recognition in spite of human weakness. Men
are perpetually seeing more than they can realise. It is not
rare in history to find cases of the perception of ideal truth,
with incapacity to act up to it. Now the sixteenth century
was a period of which the tragic interest lies in that fact.
Insight into great truths and literary expression of them were
common: yet never was consistent righteousness rarer. I do
not blame the men as men: I feel the awful tragedy too near
to my own experience. What I wrote about More, I wrote
with the feeling “ De te fabula narratur.” 1 was writing as a
religious teacher, not as a philosophic historian. I had before
me eternal verities, not human conditions. More was to me
an example of the law warring in our members. Can there
be any real liberalism? Do we not lay down principles
infinitely greater than we can apply? For More asa man
I have the same regard that you have. He was the best
man of his time. But in a sermon he became to me like
Elijah, and I was regarding him as against a background of
eternal truth.’

VOL. II. ©)

194 THE CORONATION AT MOSCOW 1896

To a young friend ‘ Peterborough : October 24, 1896.

‘I was very glad to hear from you, that you have been
diligently [pursuing] a line in life. We all need an object,
which should be definite from the first, but capable of being
abandoned if need be. So many people fritter themselves
away. I think it comes from vanity more than from
indolence. They do not think they will become excellent, so
they drop any definite pursuit, and become superior persons.

‘Don’t you think the world may be divided into two
classes ?

‘(1) Those who do things because they take care and
pains.

‘(2) Superior persons who do nothing themselves, but find
fault with what other people do.

‘Yet both are necessary. It would be useless for shoe-
makers to make shoes which fitted no-one; only the remon-
strances of irate customers teach them what to do... .’

To the Rev. Canon Scott Holland
‘ Peterborough : December 2, 1896.

‘Dear Holland,—lI think I can tell you my mind about
——. It seems to me very inadvisable that his most useful
career should be wrecked. I would treat him as I have
treated others who have made mistakes—if he was submitted
to me for any post, I would satisfy myself of his fitness for it,
and deal with him accordingly. But I should regard him as
on probation for atime. And I should plainly tell him my
opinion about the past, and would expect a certain amount
of acceptance of my opinion on his part.

‘I do not care about the exact matter on which he left his
former work. That is not the point. The point is, that it is
the mark of an undisciplined character to throw up a position
because you cannot get all your own way. This absence of
self-discipline, this excess of self-assertion, is the great bane
of the present day. Any ruler of the Church must see that
it does not infect himself, or any good men whom he has to
rule. It is the form of the world-spirit which has always
been most powerful, and infects good people often in pro-
portion to their goodness. To my mind a clergyman who
through lack of self-control gives way to drink is in the same
position as a clergyman who through petulance will not work
in the position which God has assigned to him. To confuse
little things with great issues is an unfortunate legacy of our
Church just at present. It is disappearing, but it must make
haste to go. There is no more ludicrous sight than the man

1896 LETTERS 195

who thinks that “ Catholic Faith and Catholic practice” are
locked up in his own bosom, and will submit to no authority
save that of his own sweet will. Such a man fosters in others
a spirit of avouda which is entirely contrary to the Spirit of
God.

‘I believe is Christian enough and man enough to
recognise that. You are at liberty to show him this letter if
you think it wise to do so. A bishop does not get his own
way: he does not seek it. We cannot restore the order of
the Church by going, each of us, our own way. I ask
nothing save loyalty to the Prayer-book services, and con-
fidence in my own desire to be perfectly fair. But he must
be ready to trust me; he may have his own opinion about
my wisdom.’

To a young friend! ‘ Peterborough.

‘Religion means the knowledge of our destiny and of the
means of fulfilling it.

‘It is not one out of many explanations of life: it is life
itself. An old writer said truly “Heaven is first a temper
and then a place.”

‘We must prepare to live in some region or another; it is
the highest object of knowledge to know in what region our
real life is placed.

‘ Religion is not a luxury, it is a necessity.

‘We all have to live: the question is, how, and why, are
we living ?

‘Everyone really lives on some sort of principle, even if
he refuses to acknowledge it.

. ‘If he feels that his principles are unworthy, he shrinks
from formulating them.

‘The claim of Christianity lies in the fact that it is the
most complete explanation of life, and supplies the means of
living the life which it sets forth.

‘It is not to be judged by those who fail to be all that
they wish to be, any more than art is to be judged by those
who paint inferior pictures.

‘You may judge in a sense of what anyone is: you do
not know what they might have been if they had not used
some means of discipline.

‘If you would judge with any attempt at fairness, you
should look at the best instances of each kind.

' These aphorisms were sent to a friend who had spoken to him about the
difficulty of faith, when the lives of those who professed much religion seemed
so unworthy.

O02

196 THE CORONATION AT MOSCOW 1896

‘ The individual is expressed in character.

‘Character is an atmosphere rather than a sum of
qualities.

‘It is revealed in crises. The great marks of character
are teachableness and a capacity for growth.

‘Happiness consists in growing into a larger and larger
world, with increased faculties of comprehension.

‘This involves a constant effort ; it is failure to be unequal
to this effort.

‘Unhappiness generally comes from forming for ourselves
an ideal, which experience destroys.

‘We must have in ourselves the power of replacing it by
a larger one.

‘The Christian, through submission to God, is constantly
growing out of selfish ideals into a perception of the world as
God’s world.

‘But this process is never completed here. All he can
hope to do is to carry away the rudiments of a teachable soul
to face the knowledge of hereafter.’

CHAPTER VI
APPOINTMENT TO LONDON

AFTER the death of Archbishop Benson, Dr. Creighton was
one of those most frequently mentioned in the newspapers
and elsewhere as likely to be the new archbishop. The
‘Spectator’ spoke of him as ‘having been generally regarded
as Archbishop Benson’s successor,’ but he neither expected
nor wished it himself. A few days after Dr. Temple’s
appointment as archbishop, Dr. Creighton received the follow-
ing letter from Lord Salisbury :
‘ Hatfield House: October 28, 1896.

‘My dear Lord,—I have the Queen’s authority for asking
you whether you will be willing to accept translation to
the See of London, which, as you are aware, is vacant by
the recent appointment to the archbishopric of Canterbury.
I need not urge upon you the arguments and considerations
by which you should be guided in deciding on such a step as
this. There is probably no one in Christendom whose mind
is better equipped for appreciating the importance of the
work to which you are invited, or the injury which an ill-
considered refusal might inflict upon the Church. I doubt
not that her interests will be your first thought.

‘Believe me, yours very truly,
‘SALISBURY.’

His appointment was received with unanimous and warm
approval. I give a few extracts from the many letters of
congratulation which poured in upon him:

From Dr. Randall Davidson, Bishop of Winchester
‘November 2, 1896.

‘. . . » Need I say how loyally and heartily we shall all
of us back you up, and with what confidence we shall trust
your judgment in the problems you have to face as the prot-
agonist amongst us youngermen? You will be overwhelmed
just now with the glad letters of all who realise what need
there is for courage and power and level-headed common

198 APPOINTMENT TO LONDON 1896

sense and largeness of sympathy and steadiness of purpose,
in the occupant of Fulham at such a juncture in the Church’s
history.’

From Dr. Talbot, Bishop of Rochester ‘ November 2, 1896.

. .. One thing only I regret, viz. The size and weight
of the extinguisher put upon your study: still even there
you have your knowledge in hand. ... It is very moving
to me to think that we two old friends should (with dear
St. Albans) have this great London work committed to us. As
I write the words, something of its appalling greatness and
seriousness rushes over me. ... There must, I think, be
ways in which we ought to be able to work together for the
unity of the Church in London. Think of me as something
between a colleague and “a lieutenant in all that you seek
to do.’

From the Rev. Canon Scott Holland ‘ November 2.

‘My dear Friend,—All our arms are open to receive you,
as you know well. The old dome is alive with delight. It
knows you so well already. . . . This big place cries out not
only for noble drudgery, but also for a Chief, who is at least
far enough out of the smoke to see how the battle goes.’

From Dr. Guinness Rogers ‘November 5.

‘Dear Lord Bishop,—I venture as a minister of another
church to address to you a brief congratulation on your
recent appointment. I am a stranger to your Lordship,
though a very sincere admirer of your great work on the
history of the Papacy, which it wasa pleasure toreview. But
I am encouraged to write by your fraternal message to the
Congregational Union at Leicester. I was privileged and
honoured by being asked to express the cordial sentiments of
the assembly in reply. So now I take the opportunity of
expressing the satisfaction with which, in common with
numbers of my brethren, I view an elevation which, while it
is only a fitting acknowledgment of your distinguished services,
holds out the prospect of more kindly relations between
your own Church and the Free Churches of the metropolis.’

The following letters show a little of what the Diocese
of Peterborough felt :

ius the Rev. Canon Alderson ‘ November 2.

. Of course I knew perfectly well that when the
em died we should lose you, but now the blow has

1896 CONGRATULATIONS 199

actually fallen, it seems very hard to bear. You have no
doubt seen all that the papers say about you, and what they
say of your short reign at Peterborough is all true, but they
do not know what a delightful neighbour those who live in
the Precincts are about to lose.’

From the Rev. Canon Hull ‘ Northampton : November 2.

‘.. . . Our best wishes are yours : but alas for ourselves!
Your coming here gave a new happiness to the work in this
diocese, such as I never thought possible before you came.
And now I feel as if I never wished to enter the Palace again
when you and Mrs. Creighton are no longer there.’

From the Duke of Rutland ‘ November 4.

‘London’s gain is our loss, and were I to fill sheets of
paper I could only amplify that expression of my feelings
on this occasion. ... I condole with the whole diocese
you are leaving on what I fear will prove an irreparable loss.
It is no exaggeration to say that during your episcopate here
you have won, and deservedly, the hearts of clergy and laity

alike. . . . I remain your grateful and faithful friend,
‘RUTLAND,’
From Mr. H. Labouchere, M.P. ‘ November 2.

‘I cannot help being one of the many who no doubt have
congratulated you on your translation, for which the metro-
polis may also congratulate itself. I was at Northampton
last week, and my Radical supporters were enthusiastic about
your address on Russia.’

From the Rev. J. T. Lawrance ‘Girton: December 5.

‘.... The time that I spent at Nailstone under your
episcopal jurisdiction was the happiest period of clerical work I
have ever experienced. Guidance, direction and progress
were in the air. There was a very real sense of belonging to
a great organisation which was conscious of the Social needs
of the times, and was endeavouring to apply to them the
principles of the Gospel of Jesus Christ.’

A friend who was travelling north on November 2 wrote :
‘An old porter at Peterborough came up to me to-day witha
picture of you. “Do you know him, sir?” “ Yes, well.” “ Ah,
I’m sorry we've to lose him. Though he deserves all they
can give him, and so does his missus,”’

200 APPOINTMENT TO LONDON 1896

The Bishop answered as many as possible of his letters
with his own hand. I give a few of his answers:

To Mrs. T. H. Ward ‘ Peterborough : October 24, 1896.

‘My dear Mary,—Louise showed me your touching letter,
which is just like all you think and write—so penetratingly
and sympathetically true. Personally, I shrink from fresh
responsibility, and I think I can truly say that I am free from
ambition ... I have never acted, I think I can say, from any
personal consideration; and my reputation is always a
surprise to myself. I never tried to make a hit, and never
consider anything but the need for simplicity and straightfor-
wardness. But I am writing a panegyric of myself. I only
wished to say that I want nothing, and aspire tonothing. The
small things of life are to me more important than the large ones
—love and sympathy, and the power of sometimes saying or
doing what may help others. Those are the true contents of
life, and they may be practised anywhere. The power is not
one’s own—more and more we all feel that we are the
creatures of something behind ourselves, which speaks
through us ; and all that we can do is not to allow our own
wilfulness to stand between ourself and the message with
which we are charged. I have been very busy or would have
written to you before about “Sir George.” I am delighted
that it has been so successful. I hear on many sides
testimony to the interest which it has excited. Just the
point on which I doubted—its political motive—has proved to
be the most attractive. You were right and I was wrong. I
did not know that the personal side of politics would appeal
to the public mind; but it has. I find that one is no judge
of one’s friends’ books : one is not sufficiently detached from
the source from which they spring, and follows too much the
process of their genesis to judge of their cumulative effect.
In fact, I read your books with my primary interest in you,
and so lose the dramatic effect of movement in the person-
ages. Your books may be good, but you are so much better
that you dissolve them for me into modes of yourself.

‘ After that it is time to leave off. Much love to you all.’

To Dr. Guinness Rogers
‘The Palace, Peterborough : November 9, 1896.
‘My dear Sir,—I am very grateful to you for your
message of welcome to London. It will be my earnest
endeavour that brotherly love should bind together all the
followers of our common Lord and Master.’

1896 LETTERS 201

To the Rev. Canon Hull
‘Heaton Rise, Bradford: November 13, 1896.

‘My dear Hull,—I am very sorry to have to leave my
Diocese. I have no ambition ; I never could see how anyone
could have such a quality. But we must all go where we are
sent, and must do our best by God’s help.

‘There is no one from whom I part with greater sorrow
than you. All our relations have been on a basis of affection,
and I cannot thank you enough for all your help... ’

To Count Balzani * Peterborough : November 18, 1896.

‘My dear Balzani—You will know that I am not
delighted to be again moved, and sent to the most arduous
work in the Church. I think it was Dean Stanley who said
that next to the Bishopric of Rome, the Bishopric of London
was the most important position in Christendom. I feel that
it is to some degree true, and I have no personal wish for
increased responsibility. But we are not our own masters,
nor are we, any of us, allowed to dispose of our own lives. I
must go and do my best. The family were all plunged in
woe at first, but we are growing more reconciled. Fulham is
a nice place. I think you may tell the children that they will
find more room there than at Peterborough. However, there
is no cathedral next door, which is a serious omission.

‘Of course I am plunged in business. To wind up one
set of affairs and enter upon another is serious in itself, and
all periods of transition are embarrassing. When I have done
all I can I mean to flee for ten days at the beginning of
December, perhaps to Hyéres, as the nearest place where one

can be decently warm.

To the Rev. Canon Scott Holland
‘ Peterborough : November 12, 1896.

‘My dear Holland,—You are a dear man who has the
knack of saying helpful things. When I came to Peter-
borough you pointed out the usefulness of a bishop saying and
doing little things outside his ordinary business; and you
said how weighty they were, coming from him. I have often
thought of your words and their wisdom—I have been more
useful, and have gained more influence, by never being in too
great a hurry to do little things, that were not obviously my
duty, than in any other way.

‘ Now I feel the truth of your warning not to rest satisfied
with the drudgery of my office. I have a strong feeling that
a bishop ought not to be merely an ecclesiastical official, but

202 APPOINTMENT TO LONDON 1896

a link between various classes and various activities. He
ought to try to make all sorts of things converge, so that the
standard and efficiency of each is heightened.’

To the Bishop of Colombo ‘Peterborough : December 1, 1896.

‘My dear Brother,—We little thought in old days what
was in store for us. Certainly I never wished for the office
of bishop, or thought myself qualified for it. That I should
have to rule the most important see in Christendom seems to
me quite ridiculous. But we can only go where we are sent,
and do what we are bidden. And I know that you will help
me by your prayers. It is on leaving one sphere of work for
another that one receives some comfort from the sense that
others say they have profited by the little one has done. It
is a deplorable thing to leave one diocese and go to another.
In my case it means an entire loss of peace and quietness for
the future. I could sit down and how! with anguish over the
prospect. Everything was so sudden. The Archbishop’s
death was a terrible shock, and no one had thought of the
future. His loss will not be made good for a long time ; and
we all feel out of gear. I hope we may have recovered
again before the Conference. The only alleviation to
London is that it brings friends nearer ; and I feel that some
human sympathy in that great wilderness is necessary. .. .
However, I must do my best;

Man’s the work is, the consequence God’s.

‘The dear Provost of Trinity College, Dublin, wrote to
me very characteristically, “The parable does not say that
the servant who was set over ten cities managed them well ;
but doubtless the King had good reason for his choice.”

‘At present I feel that the Church does not need great
exploits, but a gradually drawing together of its children;
and a larger activity in influencing the world, not from
without by organisation, but by the quickening power of
“the little leaven.” The world dimly feels a need of the
Church: and the Church must leave little matters for great
ones.’

To the Rev. H. R. Haweis
‘The Palace, Peterborough : December 23, 1896.
‘...I1 shall, I fear, disappoint many expectations in my
difficult office. But of this I am sure, that I shall not err
through want of sympathy with all forms of Christian thought
and all endeavours to set forth the Gospel to the world.
Time alone can decide among them: and the more a man is

re ee ee a ele aia

1896 LETTERS 203

sure of his own position, the less will he wish to force it upon
others, and the more he will trust to the inherent power of
truth.’

As far as possible the Bishop tried to cancel engagements
so as to get time for the necessary arrangements connected
with the move to London, but there remained many things
that he was bound to do.

To his niece Winifred ‘ November 9, 1896.

‘I have been staying at Sandringham with the Prince of
Wales to celebrate his birthday, which is to-day. We were
a large party, including Lord Salisbury, and his son Lord
Hugh Cecil, Mr. Balfour, Lady Randolph Churchill, and all
sorts of people. It was rather nice, as I had many talks with
everybody. The Duke of Saxe-Coburg was there also, and
Prince George of Denmark, and Princess Maud, and the
Duke and Duchess of Fife: all very nice and simple, and
yesterday afternoon I was careering round the Hall with the
Duke of York’s eldest son on my shoulder, and Lord
Salisbury looking at my agility with amazement.

‘I am bored to death with letters and things todo. Of
course departure to London means winding up much work,
and beginning more....I shall be hopelessly ruined before
I settle in. That is the worst of an official position, you are
ruined on every side and can save nothing. I look at my
children and wonder what is to become of them. They must
find that out for themselves.’

‘ November 29, 1896.

‘Now I am on a visit to the Queen ; preached to her this
‘ morning; dined with her last night, and had a long talk.
She is very interesting to talk to, and is now very friendly
with me, and talks about everything.’

Just at the time when it seemed that all thought of
historical work must be definitely given up, he received the
following letter from Lord Acton :

‘ Trinity College: November 16, 1896.

‘My dear Creighton,—I do not write to congratulate you,
because I would rather congratulate others on your immense
opportunities for doing good than you on the threatened loss
of leisure for writing. Nevertheless I have to bring an
important matter before you.

‘The Press Syndics have undertaken to publish a
general history of modern times in a series of large volumes.

204 APPOINTMENT TO LONDON 1896

They made me draw up a scheme, which they adopted, and
they expect me to find the men, and then to ride on the
whirlwind .... the thing we most require, the thing we
require first, is your sanction and assistance. . . . Your place
is evidently in the first chapter of the first volume .. . . that
introduction, on the medizval roots of modern history, must
be about fifty pages. That is what I ask of you in the name
of the university and of our long friendship. Tell me what
else there is in the first two volumes that should be assigned

to you.’

Dr. Creighton to Lord Acton ‘November 18, 1896.

‘My dear Acton,—Alas, life closes round me in ways
which I do not wish, and I doubt if I shall ever have time to
read or write again.

‘Your project fills me with interest, and I will do my
atmost to fulfil your wishes, because they are yours. I could
not entertain such a proposal from anyone else: but you are
one whom we must all try to obey. So much I learn from
hierarchical habits. But I do not know why you should
think that I am specially competent to undertake the mighty
task of summing up the Middle Ages and their legacy to
modern times. I should have thought the Bishop of Oxford
would have been the man. I haveno chance of ever thinking
of anything till August next, if I am still alive.

‘Your prospectus is admirable, and the book would be
of enormous value. I hope that you intend to write much of
it yourself. I wish I had a chance of a visit to Cambridge,
but you will conceive that I am very busy at present, and I
propose to go abroad for ten days at the beginning of next
month. I can only send you such suggestions as strike me
[he adds a list of possible writers]. I have not yet expressed
in all my ramblings my admiration for the greatness of your
undertaking. It will indeed be a mighty work; and what
is still more important, it will bring under your influence and
supervision all the men in England who are engaged in
historical writing. The effect of this to raise the standard
will be enormous. I envy you the opportunity, and still more
the capacity to use it, as you alone can do.’

Lord Acton to Dr. Creighton
‘Trinity College : November 20, 1896.
‘My dear Creighton,—Your reply to my petition is an
encouragement and an heirloom, and I cannot tell you how
much it strengthens my hands and improves our prospects.

~ ae i en ee ae

1896 LETTERS 205

Your opening chapter will give dignity and public confidence
to the work.’

It proved, however, impossible for the Bishop to write the
proposed chapter in time for the issue of the first volume, and
he was obliged in 1898 to tell Lord Acton that he must give
up the attempt.

Lord Acton to Dr. Creighton ‘Trinity College : May 15, 1898.

‘My dear Creighton,—I am not thinking of asking you
to reconsider your decision, for I know how hard you are
worked, and am not so untrue to our friendship as to wish to
increase your Cares.

‘ They wish me to do the first chapter in your stead... .
I had intended to write an introduction .... the loss of
your name and aid is a serious blow to us.... So I want
you to write the introduction and inaugurate the undertaking ;
you are so pre-eminently the man for it, by your present
dignity as well as by your former connexion with history at
Cambridge, and with the Review. It will bea great assistance
to us, and I hope no heavy burden to you... . Vagliami
il lungo studio e ’l grande amore,’

The Bishop could not refuse this request, and wrote an
Introductory Note which appears in the first volume of the
Cambridge history. *

On December 3rd we went to a quiet hotel at Hyéres,
and spent our days rambling on the hills or by the shore.
Then he came back for his last Ordination at Peterborough.

’ To Rev. H. Orford (in S. Africa)
‘ Peterborough : December 24, 1896.

‘I have been long in answering your letter; but you may
imagine I have been overwhelmed with correspondence. I
went to the Riviera for a fortnight’s holiday and took your
letter with me; but I never put pen to paper and simply
vegetated. I am very sorry to leave Peterborough, and had
no wish to go to London. However, I shall have to do my
best. There is so much to do that everything may be done,
and I can only do what I can. It is a great struggle to wind
up here, and I have not yet begun to understand what I can
do in London.

‘Much has been happening in England this year. The

‘ The proposed first chapter was never written. Lord Acton died without
having begun it, and the History had to appear without it.

206 APPOINTMENT TO LONDON 1896

Pope’s letter has not had the result which Vaughan expected.
It has reinforced Protestantism and made the position of
Anglicanism more definite. It has forced people to consider
more clearly the points on which we differ from Rome. My
visit to Moscow has given prominence to the Eastern Church.
We are learning to behave more sensibly to the noncon-
formists. I was greatly surprised that, when I wrote a kindly
letter to the Congregational Union which met at Leicester,
none of my clergy wrote to remonstrate and no Church paper
abused me. If I can iatroduce courtesy and good feeling into
our relationships with nonconformists I shall makea real con-
tribution to the future.

‘On the other hand, education and marriage questions
remain where they were, or even look worse.

We were a large party for Christmas, as his nephews and
nieces, and other young people, came to spend the holidays
with us. On January 8 we kept our silver wedding. He
wrote to Lady Lilford the day afterwards.

‘ Peterborough : January 9, 1897.

‘My dear Lady Lilford,—I am sorry to hear, though it is
but natural, that all you have gone through has affected your
health. In a sense it is a relief to you that nature prescribes
quiet, and that the body should share with the suffering of
the mind. Ah well, we can all of us write dispassionately
of another’s case, but it is of little avail. I feel sad enough
at the severance of many ties, the bidding of farewells, the
attempts to wind up business: yet these come to me on an
occasion which is to most people one of congratulation.
How much more must it have been to you, when new duties
are not prescribed and have to be slowly found, and life
seems left without direction, and strength and vigour seem to
have departed... .

‘Yesterday we kept our silver wedding. I am almost
ashamed to think how happy my life has been as yet.
Doubtless, my days of trial are to come.’

Our Peterborough friends took the opportunity of our
silver wedding to give us many beautiful remembrances of
the happy time we had spent among them, and all came to
congratulate us and bid us farewell on the afternoon of the
day. In the evening the Bishop was much touched by a
little performance of songs and recitations, composed and
acted by our children, illustrating the different events of our

1896 FAREWELL TO PETERBOROUGH 207

married life. The tears came into his eyes as he sat and
watched them.

To Miss Lilian Fitzroy ‘ Peterborough: January 8, 1897.

‘On Monday I leave Peterborough never to return as
Bishop. However, I ought not to repine, as to-day is my
silver wedding, and I can look back on twenty-five years of
very happy married life, and have all my children well and
happy round me. But it is an awful nuisance going away to
new work; and I shall become a more important person,
which is a bore. But you especially must promise that you
won’t cut me in London, and will sometimes come and cheer
me up: and will believe that I am never too busy to talk to
you and read and answer your letters.

The Bishop bade farewell in person to many of his clergy.
There were gatherings in Leicester, Northampton and
Peterborough, where he united with them in special celebra-
tions of Holy Communion, and met them and addressed them
afterwards at breakfast. To them all he sent the following
letter :

‘The Palace, Peterborough: January 6, 1897.

‘Rev. and dear Brother,—Now that I have been elected
Bishop of London, the time has come when I must bid fare-
well to those with whom I have worked for nearly six years.
It is a very brief space in the history of a diocese, but it is a
most important period in the history of a life. To me it has
been an opportunity of seeing the work of Christ’s Church
within the sphere allotted to my supervision, of knowing the

power of quiet lives devoted to Christ’s service, and of
‘learning many lessons from the experience of others. I will
not speak to you of the work done in the diocese, or of any
plans or projects which I made. Such things must be judged
by their results in the eyes of God. I will only thank you
for the kindness and confidence with which you have treated
me, for the intimacy which you have permitted me to assume,
for the readiness with which you have sought my advice, and
the loyalty which you have always shown towardsme. I can
truly say that I have been conscious of no parties, have met
with no suspicion, and have always been able to count on
your hearty co-operation. Doubtless I have made errors in
judgment in my administration, but you have recognised the
difficulties of my position and have trusted my fundamental
desire to be just. For all your kindness and for all that you
have taught me, I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

208 APPOINTMENT TO LONDON 1896

‘My sorrow at leaving this diocese is not regret for
organisation left unfinished, or projects unrealised; it is the
pain of severance of personal friendships. I bid farewell to
fellow-labourers in the highest object of man’s endeavour—
fellow-labourers who were dear to me not only for their work’s
sake, but for themselves. You will ever have a place in my
prayers, and I would commend myself very earnestly to
yours. I would ask you, as the last kindness you can show
me as your Bishop, to use the enclosed prayer in your
church so long as I remain Bishop of this diocese.

‘And now I bid you farewell, and commend you to God
and the word of His Grace, which is able to build you up.

‘Your faithful brother in Christ,
“ ‘M. PETRIBURG.’

He was presented with an illuminated address bound in a
handsome volume, and signed by all the clergy in the diocese
save one, who wrote to the Bishop to say that he had not
signed it because he could not believe that anyone would
wish to be addressed in such fulsome terms. The address
was as follows:

‘My Lord,—We cannot permit you to sever your con-
nexion with this diocese without an expression of sincere
regret at your departure from among us.

‘Your tenure of the See has been short, but in these few
years you have been so constantly moving among us, that we
have all learned to know you and feel your personal influence ;
and we gladly seize this opportunity of thanking you for the
unsparing way in which you have devoted yourself to express
appreciative sympathy with our efforts.

‘You succeeded a bishop endowed with splendid gifts :
you have carried on the tradition of greatness. The brilliant
and versatile talents with which God has enriched you, and
which have been so constantly and assiduously used in the
interest of religion and culture, have shed lustre on this
Diocese; and we have felt justly proud of our Bishop. Nor
is it a small thing to say that Peterborough has within six
years sent one of her prelates to York, and his immediate
successor to London.

We would gladly have kept you with us, but we recognise
that your translation to a larger sphere is for the good of the
Church. But, while we thus unfeignedly regret your departure
from us, we heartily wish you God speed, and pray that His
guidance may direct, and His blessing prosper, your work in

1896 FAREWELL TO PETERBOROUGH 209

that vast diocese, with its almost terrible responsibilities, to
which His Providence now calls you.

We are, my Lord, your Lordship’s dutiful Sons and
Servants in Christ.’

In some notes in the ‘ Diocesan Magazine,’ on his departure,
the admiration for his work was expressed with equal warmth.

‘We smaller men marvel how a man with the burden of
an English diocese on his shoulders could find the time, to
say nothing of the brains, to prepare adequately for sermons
at St. Paul’s, before the Court, in the University pulpits, and
could, in one and the same year‘ be Rede Lecturer at Cam-
bridge and Romanes Lecturer at Oxford.

‘For, be it remembered, his diocese never suffered amid
all this extraneous effort. He was here and there and every-
where, in our three counties, preaching, confirming, addressing,
lecturing. If we did complain, it was that he made himself
too cheap in this respect, and did not draw the line a little
higher up than at harvest thanksgivings.

‘Asa lecturer he will long be remembered . . . one hardly
knew which to admire most, the profound erudition and grasp
of subject, or the exquisite lucidity with which it was treated.

‘We shall miss him too at our Diocesan Conference ;
never interfering with or seeking to influence the freedom of
debate, his opening addresses were masterly, and in his
summing up rem acu tetigit.

‘He has ruled his diocese well and justly ; he has dis-
pensed his patronage carefully and fairly. Many of us have
much reason to acknowledge the open-handed hospitality and
unvarying kindliness with which we have been welcomed at
the Palace; and all who have been brought in contact with
him will remember with pleasure the frank and unaffected
courtesy which has characterised his intercourse with them.
Perhaps the young folk of the diocese will miss him most of
all. He will forgive us when we say that he has never quite
ceased to be a big boy ; and with children he was always at
his ease, as they were with him ; and all the youngsters, male
or female, that have had the advantage of a romp with him,
have found out what a delightful creature a Bishop can be in
spite of his apron and gaiters.’

I add some remarks by clergy who worked under him :

‘Many of all classes have to thank him for having raised
their whole ideal both of the capabilities of the bishop’s office
» Really, in two consecutive years,

VOL. I. P

210 APPOINTMENT TO LONDON 1896

and work, and of the ways in which both clergy and laity
can help their own bishop to make full use of them. Those
who responded to him felt that they were working under
a kindly but penetrating and stimulating influence which gave
them every encouragement and yet tested them, which above
all would not allow them, if it could be helped, to relapse into
what was narrow and conventional.’ !

‘One of the most marked results of his short episcopate at
Peterborough was the advance of church life and activity
among prominent laymen. He knew them all; they could
not help loving him personally. They got to believe he cared
for them, and they trusted his judgment. This was a great
factor in smoothing difficulties between the schools of thought.
All schools felt they had a friend in the Bishop. We had
almost no ritual controversies in the diocese during his rule.
We got closer together in our common affection for him, and
quarrelled very little. “I can forgive a layman who quarrels
with his vicar,” Dr. Creighton said to me once, “but I can-
not forgive a vicar who is foolish enough to quarrel with his

people.”’ ?

There were not many troublesome questions for the
Bishop to hand on to his successor. When he looked through
the letters which he had kept, he found that all except one
small packet might be destroyed. He parted from a loyal and
affectionate clergy, leaving his diocese in perfect peace.

The Bishop’s relations with the city of Peterborough had
always been of the most happy nature. In replying to the
resolution of congratulation sent him by the City Council, he
said :

‘I can truly say that during my residence in Peterborough
I have tried to remember that my official duties as Bishop of
the diocese did not absolve me from my special duties as
a citizen of Peterborough, and I am glad to think that my
relations with the Corporation have been of a cordial
nature. . .. Perhaps I may be allowed to add, that I have
been struck as an interested observer, with the way in which
the business of the City Council has been transacted, with
a single eye to the public welfare in a uniform spirit of
courtesy and fairness.

‘The hope of the future depends on the maintenance and
development of capacity and zeal in the service of local

+ Canon (now Archdeacon) Stocks. ? Rev. E. Grose Hodge,

- 3896 LETTERS 211

government. That these qualities will never be wanting in
Peterborough is my hope and trust.’

Something of his inmost mind at this time is shown by
the following letter to an old friend, who wrote saying :

‘Will you forgive me if after many years of silence I again
write to you about myself... . I have tried for many years
now to live without religion, but I don’t feel I’ve made a
success of it so far... . If 1 wanted to know about music or
about engineering I should ask someone who really knew
about these things, and the only people who now about faith
are the people who Aave felt and do feel it...

‘ The Palace, Peterborough : December 21, 1896.

*... The mere fact that I could not write till I asked if
I might write so [with the old frankness] seems to go to the
very root of the question which I write about. What is life?
You may say, It is the development of my capacities, the
process of finding a self, of becoming all I can be. But how
is this to be tested? How do I know what I am? The
only answer is, Life is a sum of relationships. There is no
independent or self-centred existence. I am what I am in
relation to others: and I know myself by seeing myself
reflected in my influence on others, my power of touching
their lives and weaving their life and mine into some con-
nected and satisfactory scheme, which contains them all and
points to further developments. This process is satisfactory,
and gives happiness in proportion as it is large, real, and
gives hopes of permanence. The Christian claim is that my
' life, my capacities, my relationships are part of an eternal
order running through the universe, beginning and ending
in God. Nothing short of this conception gives happiness
or strength or reality. It is a conception which entirely
corresponds to the needs of human nature, and its great
proof must always be this correspondency.

‘You are quite right in saying that religion is a matter
for the expert in it. It cannot be otherwise. The truth of
Christianity is apparent in the Christian life: and all the
conceptions which support the non-Christian at the present
day are of Christian origin, and owe their power to the vitality
of the Christian faith. Current morality, philanthropy, high
aims in politics, ideas of progress, of liberty, of brotherhood
—what you will—owe their position to Christianity. Begin
to discuss and examine them in the pure light of reason:
there is no reason for the family, for marriage, for any part,

P2

212 APPOINTMENT TO LONDON 1896

of the moral law, for any claim of any principle to be domi-
nant over my natural desire to gratify my impulses as they
arise. The criticism directed against Christianity is equally
strong, indeed stronger, against any other conception on
which society can be founded. In fact, pure reason leads
nowhere. It is not a beginning. We act from the heart
first, then the head explains. What can be more irrational
than love? Yet it is the motive power of the individual life.
Take the excellent man, who is not a Christian, but has
noble ideals. It is not the cogency of his intellectual state-
ment which attracts you, but his obvious sincerity, his zeal,
his fire, his passion. Where do these come from? Not from
his intellectual system, which cannot supply them, but from
the Christian atmosphere which surrounds him. Christ was
“the light of #he world,” not only of the Church. Men can-
not escape from Him. He will judge them, not according to
the utterances of their head, but to the obedience of their
heart.

‘But this is going on too fast. Let me go back. Life is
only explicable as part of a general purpose. Every high-
minded man explains it so. The only question is, How large
is his purpose? The Christian purpose is unlimited, infinite.
Can this be justified ?

‘Our life is the development of our personality. This
personality is something more than the sum total of our
observed qualities. One man with many gifts which can
be recognised is somehow still unattractive and ineffective.
Another, less richly endowed, whose qualities cannot be
separately appraised so highly, is much more influential and
obviously leads a richer life. Why? Because he is more of
a person, is more consistent, has a central source of power,
We may Call this personality.

‘Now the great question about oneself is the formation
and nurture of this central point of our being, this personality.
This thought explains and justifies the nature of the revela-
tion of God in Christ. God could be known in nature, in
conscience, in history; but if He was to be thoroughly
known, He must be known in a Zerson. So Christ stands
the central fount of personality, who explains, not my gifts,
my attainments, my knowledge, my capacities, but me, that
which lies beyond these, uses them and gives them meaning
and coherence.

‘So He stands, the Sustainer of all men: and I am led to
Him by all my experience. What makes me in this world?
My relations to others. What cheers me? The belief that

1896 LETTERS 213

some at least love me. What gives me any value in my own
eyes? The sense of my influence over, and usefulness to,
one or two of those who love me. Without love and confi-
dence on both sides all this world would be useless, I should
be nothing, do nothing, enjoy nothing.

‘Relationships, founded on a sense of lasting affection,
are the sole realities of life.

‘This is obvious. It is the burden of all literature. It
leads straight to Christ. Faith is personal trust in a person.
Christianity does not call upon me to commit myself to some-
thing contrary to my experience. It asks me to discover its
law already written in the world. In Christ all becomes
plain. In my relationship towards Him all my other rela-
tionships find their meaning and their security.

‘TI will not go further now. This is an outside view, but
perhaps you will understand it. In such matters conviction
does not come from outside, but from within. The felt need
comes first : slowly we find how to supply it.

‘Let me venture to speak of yourself. As I knew you,
you had a delicate, fine, perceptive nature; but it was too
receptive of things as they offered themselves, and shrank
from much trouble. You took all that came to you, enjoyed
them to the full, but did not care to appropriate them more
than was convenient. Life was made easy to you... . You
had the opportunity of indulging your capacity for receiving
impressions, and you had further so much natural charm and
attractiveness that you could get from everybody whatever
you wished. You won’t think me hard if I say that one of
the great dangers of such as you is that, both to yourself and
_ all around you, it seems so natural that you should have and
do what you wish, that selfishness is hidden and condoned
by its gracefulness and charm.

‘But the enjoyment of this protected life comes to an end.
Duties gather round one and are imperative. One gets
wearied of social enjoyments which have no contents, intima-
cies which reveal nothing, admiration which gives no real
power for any definite purpose. One finds oneself with
certain relationships thrust upom one, some chosen and very
dear, yet with a vague discontent and with a sense that there
is more to be made out of them if one only saw how. I have
been writing to show you my answer, I cannot do more.
I know what [I have to do and I know how much I fail to do
it. It is not public recognition which cheers me, but the
love of simple souls, who teach me more than I teach them,
and give me glimpses of much beyond and above. I can

2v4 APPOINTMENT TO LONDON 1897

truly say that I am happy, not through my public activities,
or my social powers, but through growing sympathy in little
matters with children, with the young, with the sorrowful, the
tempted, the perplexed. Always I see a great purpose, God
fulfilling Himself in divers ways.

‘I did not mean to write about myself. This letter has
been written with numerous interruptions: and IJ dare say it
is incoherent. But you will read it with sympathy.’

The Bishop’s first act on coming into his diocese had
been to consecrate a new church at Leicester, his last act
before leaving it was to lay, on January 11, the foundation
stones of two new churches at North Evington and Knighton
Fields, both outlying districts of Leicester. At the public
lunch afterwards he spoke of the deep interest and growing
affection which he had felt for Leicester, and how he had
striven to identify himself as much as possible with the
municipal life of the town. He said: ‘I am certain that
the Church has a great work to do in associating itself with
public life... . I am absolutely convinced of the necessity
that all public life and all municipal life should be penetrated
by the spirit of the Gospel.’

Leicester thoroughly valued him and his work. One
who knows the town well says that he is the only Bishop
who has ever got hold of Leicester. As amark of friendship,
the Leicester people collected a considerable sum of money
which was given to the Bishop with the request that he would
use it to buy pictures! to adorn his London house. He
replied: ‘I should like anything which I received from
Leicester to be a memorial which I could hand down to my
children: for I shall be very proud of it.’

To his niece Ella Creighton
‘ Fryth,? Berkhamsted : January 24, 1897.
‘Perhaps you think I ought to have written to you before,
but the difficulties of a houseless wanderer are great. If one
stays with people one has totalk to them. Since I said good-
bye to you I have been wandering. I went to Leicester, then
to London, then to Farnham Castle. Then I went to Osborne,

' The Bishop was allowed to choose these pictures and bought eight oil
paintings, which were a very great pleasure to him.
* The house of Mr. J. R. Thursfield.

1897 THE BISHOP’S CONFIRMATION 215

where the Queen was very well and kind. Then I returned
to London, and was plunged in business, whence I emerged
with difficulty on Friday and came here for peace. I arrived
in the middle of the snowstorm, and Louise, who meant
to come on Saturday, gave it up for fear she should not get
here. I am in a house on the verge of a hill, with a huge
common extending for miles on the top. It is a charming
place, but not quite adapted to snow, especially when it blows
into drifts. However, Thursfield provided me with wading
boots up to my knees and I roam about among the gorse
and enjoy the wintry landscape. Here I am in peace except
for letters, which pour. To-morrow I go back to London for
a hard week’s work, ending with my enthronement on
Saturday. By that time I hope we shall be able to picnic in
Fulham.’

The disturbance raised at his Confirmation in the church
of St. Mary le Bow by Mr. Kensit, of whom till then he had
never heard, was a surprise to the Bishop. Mr. Kensit
objected to him because he had worn a mitre and because he
had promoted persons considered by Mr. Kensit to be unfit.
Mr. Kensit’s attempt to read his protest produced a good deal
of unseemly disturbance; the Vicar-General ruled that he
could not be heard, a decision which was received with
loud applause. On leaving the church Dr. Creighton saw
Mr. Kensit at the door, and shook hands with him, saying that
he was sure they would understand one another as they got
to know one another.

By Friday, January 29, we were able to take up our
abode at Fulham Palace, where all our children joined us for
the enthronement on Saturday.

To Dr. G. F. Browne, then Bishop of Stepney and Canon
of St. Paul’s ‘The Palace, Peterborough: January 8, 1897
‘My dear Bishop,—I feel that I ought to leave the
arrangements for the enthronement in the hands of the Dean
and Chapter. I will do what you tell me. But I feel that it

would be better if there were no sermon or address from me.
It is hardly the time for talking.’

The Bishop always loved his connexion with St. Paul’s.
He had a special appreciation for the genius of Wren, and
considered St. Paul’s Cathedral one of the great buildings of

216 APPOINTMENT TO LONDON 1897

the world. The reverence of its services and the beauty of
its music completely satisfied his esthetic sense. The
ceremonial of his enthronement was ordered with all the
simple dignity usual at St. Paul’s on great occasions. There
for the first time the Bishop met the Lord Mayor, then
Mr. Faudel Phillips, with whom he was to be so much and
so pleasantly associated during the busy year which followed.
Friends gathered from every part of the country for the
occasion. The ceremony of enthronement was followed by a
celebration of the Holy Communion at which the Bishop
was the celebrant.

The following Sunday he spent quietly at Fulham with
his family. ;

To his niece Winifred ‘Fulham Palace: February 1, 1897.

‘I have now suffered all that is possible before getting to
work, and am rejoicing in being settled in my own room, with
all my papers round me and my secretary to help me. I was
very nicely enthroned on Saturday, and was welcomed on
Sunday in Fulham Church with much pomp, and was made
to preach a sermon,’

CHAPTER VII
BEGINNINGS OF LONDON LIFE

THE nature of his new work made some changes in the
Bishop’s manner of life necessary. He had to engage a
domestic chaplain ; but, in spite of his overwhelming corre-
spondence, his dislike to complicating the machinery of life
was so great, that he employed no other secretarial help,
though he would occasionally dictate letters to his daughters.
He could never be persuaded to use a shorthand secretary.
Most of his letters he answered himself, writing with great
rapidity, and at every possible moment of time, though never
late at night. His regular letters to his nephews and nieces
were generally written at the meetings of the Ecclesiastical
Commission or of the Trustees of the British Museum, but
this never prevented him from attending to the business that
was going on.

He engaged as his chaplain the Rev. L. J. Percival, son
of his old friend the Bishop of Hereford.

To the Rev. L. J. Percival * Peterborough: November 20, 1896.

‘My dear Mr. Percival,—I write to propose to you that
‘you should act as my domestic chaplain when I become
Bishop of London. I do not know if such a proposal would
be acceptable to you; but I should be very much pleased if
it were so. I think we have met in times past and what
I have heard of you from Mr. Glyn leads me to think that
you would be useful to me. I may say that I have written to
your father, and have his consent for making this proposal.
I can only promise to give you. plenty of work to do, and
I will do my utmost to make it pleasant for you to do it. If
you are inclined to consider my proposal, perhaps you could
manage to come and see me some day next week.’

* November 24, 1896.
‘I shall be at home on Friday morning. Come by all

means, and we will ave a talk, and you shall see the worst
of us.’

218 BEGINNINGS OF LONDON LIFE 1897

Mr. Percival writes: ‘I shall never forget the day when
I went, in fear and trembling, to Peterborough to be inspected,
but all that he wanted was to know if I thought J should be
happy at Fulham. His words as I left for London were
“Well, I hope you will like us.”’ It was an amusing and un-
expected experience to be asked on this visit of inspection to
join in a game of hockey with the Bishop and his children.

The tie between Mr. Percival and the Bishop soon
became one of strong affection and absolute confidence.
Mr. Percival says that no chaplain was ever treated by
his bishop with such confidence and consideration; the
Bishop regarded him as a fellow-worker rather than as a
subordinate. This confidence was amply repaid, and no
bishop was ever served with more loyal and devoted affection.

Fulham Palace is such a large and rambling house that
the Bishop never learnt to find his way over it. The chapel
was rather a grief to him; all he could.do to improve it was
to put up his wooden reredos, which he brought from
Peterborough. London House, the episcopal residence in
St. James’s Square, had never been inhabited by Dr. Temple.
The Bishop was clear that he ought to live in it for part of
the year, and as it was in a deplorable condition, Mr. Carée,
the diocesan architect, was instructed to put it in order. It
was transformed internally, and made not only a convenient
but a beautiful house. Special attention was paid to the
room used as a chapel. Its walls were adorned with some
interesting carved panelling which the Bishop discovered ina
dismantled house at Fulham. The necessary changes in the
house were so extensive that we were not able to inhabit it
till 1898. For the first year the work had to be carried on
entirely from Fulham. Much time was spent in getting in
and out of London, but I do not think that it was wasted.
The Bishop never read in his carriage, but he prepared his
sermons or speeches. His conversation with his companion
was often interrupted with ‘Now I must make my sermon,’
and a period of silence followed till he was ready for talk
again. He used the District Railway a great deal, both to get
into London and for his longer journeys about the diocese.
Living in London House in many ways made his work
easier, and the clergy were delighted to have their Bishop

1897 INTERVIEWS 219

more accessible, but in some ways it added to the strain.
Engagements could follow so quickly one upon another as
to leave not a moment’s respite between, and people could
drop in to see him at any time. At Fulham he could some-
times feel safe from interruption.

He tried to make it easy for his clergy to see him by spend-
ing every Monday morning at London House for interviews.
Then he was visited by a continual stream of persons of all
kinds. Some when their turn came thought his manner
almost curt, so quickly did he cut the knot of their difficulty,
and so little time did he give to further discussion when once
the real question was settled. But if it was a subject that
needed deliberation, he was never in a hurry, and in any real
trouble his sympathy was never wanting. All alike were
impressed with the quickness with which he pierced to the
root of the matter and saw the real point at issue, as well as with
the courtesy and kindness with which he treated them. He
himself once expressed his ideal of such interviews. ‘ No man
should ever leave our presence with the sense that we have
not done our best to understand him.’ His interviews are
thus described by one of his clergy : ‘He was never in a hurry,
but he never wasted a moment. Ifa question were submitted to
him which really required discussion, he would talk it over
as deliberately as though he had nothing else to do that
morning. But if a question were asked to which a reply
could be given in a word, the word was spoken, and, with a
‘pleasant smile, the interview was immediately ended. If a
request could not be granted, he would go out of his way to
show why, and, by thus taking the applicant into his
confidence, almost as if he were asking his sympathy, he took
the sting out of the refusal. Whether the interview lasted
one minute or twenty, whether the application were granted
ot declined, the man went away feeling that he had in the
Bishop a friend, a strong friend.’

The tiresome and often trivial questions which were
submitted to him were a severe trial to his patience, but his
irritation was well disguised, though it was a satisfaction to
let it out sometimes. A friend met him once at the door
showing out a deputation of discontented parishioners, and
as he turned back with him, the Bishop replied to the

220 BEGINNINGS OF LONDON LIFE 1897

question how he was: ‘As well as can be expected when
every ass in the diocese thinks that he has a right to come
and bray in my study.’

Thursday was always spent at the Ecclesiastical
Commission. It had long been the custom for the Bishop
of London to undertake to attend the Commission regularly.
This Dr. Creighton found a task of living interest, as it
brought before him many questions of far-reaching impor-
tance, different in kind from his usual routine. The real
business of the Commission is transacted by a small inner
body called the Estates Committee. At the close of the
first meeting which he attended, the Bishop expressed his
surprise at the great variety of the business, and said that
he had been deeply interested. The work was all the more
satisfactory to him because it brought him into close
connexion with a man whom he delighted to praise, and
whom he considered one of the ablest public servants in the
country, Sir Alfred de Bock Porter, the permanent secretary
of the Commission. At these meetings the Bishop found
scope for his business capacities. One of his fellow-com-
missioners says that ‘when present he was invariably the
ruling spirit, and yet never seemed to dominate in a way
which could offend, for his criticisms, though trenchant,
were never bitter. Sir Alfred de Bock Porter says: ‘In
difficult cases his assistance was invaluable, he seemed to
see instinctively the crucial point at a glance, and with
great fertility of resource he was always ready to formu-
late in happy phrases an expression of opinion which, while
fairly meeting the case, would at the same time have the
effect of discouraging further controversy.’

The Bishop was an ex-officio Trustee of the British
Museum, and of the Natural History Museum, and was elec-
ted a Trustee of the National: Portrait Gallery. He attended
the meetings of these bodies whenever he could, and
much enjoyed them, both on account of the distinguished
men with whom he was associated and the interest of the
business transacted. He often came home enthusiastic over
the treasures he had seen at the Museum. He writes toa
friend January 8, 1808:

‘Il am writing this at a meeting. I ama Trustee of the

1897 LIFE AT FULHAM 221

British Museum and am now sitting in that capacity. It is
interesting work : one sees all the new things that come in.
We are just talking of an old lady who brought a book
which she offered for sale for 177. It was found to contain
seven tracts printed by Caxton, and she was paid 2,600/
Lucky old lady to come to honest persons,’

He had never loved London, and he much missed the
visits to quiet country villages and the inspection of lovely
old parish churches, which had brightened his work in his
former diocese. It was a joy when he sometimes came upon
a quiet place:

To his niece Winifred ‘ February 18, 1897.

‘Yesterday I went out to a country parish to consecrate
a burial-ground. I was quite delighted to find that there

were one or two country villages left in my diocese. It was
by the river and was quite quiet and rural.’

On a free afternoon at Fulham he liked to walk on
Wimbledon Common, and soon discovered all the secrets of
its varied beauty. When possible he took part in the hockey
played twice a week in the field at Fulham by his children
and their friends. From London House he took long walks
about the parks and on the embankment, or rambled in
obscure parts of the city. Asa rule there was little time for
recreation or exercise and in letters to his nieces and nephews
he remarks again and again: ‘I scarcely ever get a walk now.’
’ *T have not had a walk for ages, and the joys of the spring are
invisible to me.’ In odd moments he paced round and round
the garden at Fulham with any companion he could find. He
writes: ‘My joy is to see the garden growing green and the
sun shining upon it” He watched with sympathetic interest
every effort to improve the garden, and was specially proud
of the rare trees with which his predecessors, beginning with
Bishop Compton, had adorned it. He liked to point them
out to his visitors, and ordered labels with their names to be
affixed to them. He also assisted in choosing at Kew some
new varieties to add to the collection.

It was a real distress to him that circumstances made it
difficult to have such friendly intercourse with his clergy in
London as at Peterborough

222 BEGINNINGS OF LONDON LIFE 1897

To Lady Grey «June 1, 1897.

‘ Alas, the mention of quietness sends a pang through me.
It has departed for ever from my life. Quietness had de-
parted before, but now unrest has taken its place in the most
acute form. I shall soon cease to have any intellect at all.
I never have time to read a serious book, or take in new
ideas. I am always talking, writing business letters, deciding
questions, and being interviewed. Then the horror of it is
that all my business is so inhuman. In my last diocese
( had to go by train and after any service I had to spend a
night or wait for a train. Now I drive to a place ten minutes
before the time: sometimes I ask what I have come to do:
the moment it is done, I drive off to the next place. I never
see anyone as a human being, ft is all business. I never see
any children, which is a great pang to me. I never see young
people. I have no joys left.

‘So if you sometimes wrote to me, it would be a real act
of charity. You cannot think how the sight of a letter which
is not business cheers me.’

To a friend * November 16, 1897.

‘The great nuisance of London is one never sees anybody
intimately. I am always going from place to place, seeing
new people, and only seeing them on the outside. One never
knows anybody till one knows them at home, and I rarely
see anyone’s home. It is a matter of going to a church or a
meeting, and then driving off again.’

He often lamented that he saw so few children in London,
and if by any chance he had lunch or tea at a vicarage where
there were children, it was a real refreshment.

It was impossible to know the curates in the diocese as
he would have liked. Writing to some young clergy, who had
left the diocese of Peterborough for Australia, he said :

* March 17, 1808.

‘I was amused ... to see how the American and Colonial
bishops were bewildered at the sight of the mass of business
which falls on the Bishop of London. It is immensely more
than Peterborough in every way. I have four ordinations in
the year and the numbers run from thirty to eighty at each.
I never seem to be free from interviewing candidates. Con-
firmations go on steadily from February to July and are
almost always in the evening. . . . My time is spent in meet-
ings of every sort. It is a very inhuman life. I do not see

1897 LONDON LIFE 223

nearly so much of the clergy individually; and with 1,200
curates, constantly changing, I can see very little of them.
But I must not write to you of my own misfortunes. I have
to do my best and stagger on somehow: but London is a
very difficult place.’

To his niece Winifred ‘ February 7, 1897.

‘I wish you knew the difficulties I feel in giving decisions
about matters which I do not know;; that is the nuisance of a
new beginning. However, I have had a tolerably peaceful
day to-day and have learned something.’

‘ February 18, 1897.

‘I can’t tell you yet what I think of London, or how I
shall get on. I think it is time for me to be a failure for a
few years and perhaps for ever. Who knows? My job is
anyhow very hard. I feel it very gritty.’

He used any opportunities of a talk with the older and
more experienced clergy to draw from them what they knew
about the diocese, and missed the close neighbourhood of the
Cathedral body which at Peterborough had supplied him
with advisers near at hand. He was glad when business
took him to St. Paul’s and he could have a talk with one of
the canons or enjoy the hospitable welcome of the deanery.

At first, at any rate, overwhelming though the work was,
he was stimulated by its variety and interest.

To his niece Winifred ‘ February 18.

‘I feel as if people in London were very attentive and
take up anything you say. OOS TH

‘There is no one I now meet to be kind to me. It is all
business, and I never see any young folk, only elderly gentle-
men. . . . On Friday I had a good sample day. I left home
at 10.30, had a Confirmation at'11. Then I went to Padding-
ton, caught a special train, and at 1.10 went to Windsor with
the Duke of Devonshire, Lord James of Hereford, and Lord
Balfour of Burleigh ; had lunch, and then took oaths as a
member of the Privy Council; got back to Paddington at
4.30, went to Liverpool Street, and took train to Lower
Edmonton ; had a little dinner, and then a service at 7.30; got
home about 11. This is the sort of way in which my days
are spent. Do you think it is interesting? In many ways
it is. One sees a good deal going on and the business is
much more important than it was at Peterborough.’

224 BEGINNINGS OF LONDON LIFE 1897

* April 9, 1897.

‘{[ never see anyone except on business, and that seems
to be incessant. My head is always full of it. Of course I
go to all sorts of places, and meet all sorts of people. It is
amusing in a way: but I think there is too much of it... .
Last night I went to dine at Toynbee Hall, and then talked
to an assembly of Trade Unionists and Socialists about edu- .
cation: and then we had a discussion. . . . I never scarcely
have time to read anything and seldom to write. Do not
think I am grumbling. Everybody is very kind, and I am
trying to get them all to go my way gently.’

He describes his life as ‘ going from one thing to another,
looking every morning to see what is the first thing to go to:
and then setting out with a lot of papers to read by the way,
and gain some notion what one ought to do or say.’ Amidst
all the mass of business he welcomed anything that brought
him in touch with individual souls.

To Mrs. Howard Pease ‘ April 29, 1897.

‘It requires all my efforts to remain human in this in-
human spot, with all the business I have to do—business
which is done in a rush and which depends solely on judg-
ment, and rarely calls for any personal touch. The only
things that cheer me are the letters that | get from folk in
my diocese submitting their difficulties, small and personal ;
sometimes, a young man’s trouble how to be honest in busi-
ness, a soldier’s love-story and its difficulties; such things
I get, and they bring me back to human life.’

To Lady Grey * August 12, 1897.

‘Sometimes there come things human from unknown
persons, strange questions of a most personal and intimate
kind, which give one an awful sense of responsibility in
answering.’

To his niece Winifred ‘October 28, 1897.

‘There is plenty of human nature in London. I seem
lately to have had all sorts of little troubles referred to me.
It is very hard to be strictly just in such matters. Yet with-
out strict justice one can do nothing.’

The world which he defined as ‘the activities of this life
with God left out’ seemed to him to invade everything in
London, even the Church, tempting some of the clergy to
aim at success and popularity, and become absorbed in efforts

1897 ‘THE PICTURESQUE IN HISTORY’ 225

to gather large congregations around them by competing in
attractions with neighbouring churches,

To Mrs. Howard Pease ‘ March 17, 1898.

‘We have moved to London House till Easter. It makes
my work easier for me, as I have not so much travelling.
jt also brings me more visitors and makes me feel more in
the world. But oh! how much world there is! The devil
and the flesh are not nearly so dangerous combined. The
trial of a bishop is that he is always engaged in outside
matters. I really rejoice in Confirmations, which bring me
into contact with the young. I do not find so many human
beings in London as there were at Peterborough.’

To Miss Constance Barrett ‘ March 24, 1898.

‘I am perpetually overwhelmed with work. I have to
express more opinions than I have time to verify. I am in
the very centre of all that is worldly. I am exposed to all
the most deteriorating influences. All that I can do is to
realise these facts, and try to possess my soul as well as I can.’

If the Church was to be strong in London, he felt that the
Bishop must be known not only by the clergy but by the
laity, and therefore that he must not only know London, but
London must know him. His varied gifts opened to him
many kinds of activity. One of his first public appearances
in his new diocese was at the Royal Institution on February 5,
when he spoke on ‘the Picturesque in History’! to a crowded
.and delighted audience. The lecture abounded in charac-
teristic sayings :

‘A man’s character is more revealed by what he tries to
do than by what he succeeds in doing.’

‘His most fruitful heritage is, generally speaking, his
temper, his attitude towards life, his method of facing its
problems.’

‘A crisis is due to blundering.and incapacity. But when
a crisis occurs it is a revelation of character.’

‘ One of the great lessons of history is to show the bondage
as well as the responsibility of power.’

‘The great object of history is to trace the continuity
of national life, and to discover and estimate the ideas on
which that life is founded.’

1 Published in Zectures and Addresses,
VOL. I. Q

226 BEGINNINGS OF LONDON LIFE 1897

During the first six months of his episcopate, besides
speaking at innumerable meetings about every kind of church
work, he addressed the annual gathering of the London
University Extension Students at the Mansion House on
‘The Story of a Country.’! He spoke at meetings on Early
Closing, Vigilance Work and Public Health. He discussed
educational questions with members of the Toynbee Hall
working men clubs; he spoke at the London School of
Economics, then just getting into working order under the
able guidance of his friends Mr. and Mrs. Sidney Webb; he
lectured at Salisbury on ‘the Coming of Augustine, and
spoke to the London Church Reading Union on ‘the
Advantage of Consecutive *Reading.’* He was a guest at
many public dinners, where he was invariably called upon to
speak, on occasions so various as the gathering of old Cum-
brians at the dinner of the Cumberland Benevolent Society,
the farewell dinner to Mr. Bayard, the American Ambassador,
the dinner of the Architectural Association, of the Artists’
Benevolent Society, of the contributors to the Dictionary of
National Biography. At the dinner given in commemoration
of the Jubilee by one hundred distinguished women, who each
invited one man, he was the chosen guest of Mrs. Sidney
Webb, and the only speaker except Mrs. Steel, the originator
of the dinner, and Lady Henry Somerset. He concluded his
speech by saying :

‘Could we distract our minds from our companions and
look on each other’s faces, we should perteive a deep sense of
unworthiness, each man inly wondering how the other man
came to be asked. . . . When our best books are mocked at,
our finest oratory unappreciated, and we are in gloom and
depression, a vision of this evening will rise before us, and
_we shall be cheered by remembering that once on a time,
one lady thought us sufficiently distinguished to invite us to
be her guest. Then we shall repose in peace upon the re-
collection.’

His after-dinner speaking was much appreciated; the
playful irony which often veiled real and suggestive thought,
the unexpected turns of speech, the invariable anecdote up to

' Published in Zecfures and Addresses.
* Published in Thoughts on Education.

1897 LONDON LIFE 227

which he liked to lead, the bantering humour, always kept his
audience amused and attentive, and undue length never tried
their patience. It was a delight to sit by Dr. Temple at the
Mansion House dinner to the Bishops, and watch his face
whilst Dr. Creighton was speaking, and then hear his delighted
chuckle ‘ He’s too clever.’

There were private as well as public dinners ; old and new
friends joined in welcoming him to London. To quote from
others :

‘The stir and movement of his presence made itself felt
at once and felt everywhere. London, so slow to perceive
what is happening in the midst of it, could not but be aware
of this new arrival. He proved that even this huge, unwieldy
sluggish mass of a diocese could actually feel the impact,
from end to end, of a vivid personal inspiration.’ *

‘What the diocese wanted when Dr. Creighton took it
over, was a visible chief. London wanted a bishop who
would speak for it and to it as a whole—a leader who would
surmount details, seize on its imagination, and touch it on
every side of its multitudinous life. This part the new Bishop
set himself to play. Hence his incessant appearances in
public, on platforms, at meetings and banquets; his plunge
into the vortex of London society.’ ?

‘When he came to London, he mixed freely in various
sorts of society, for none came amiss to him, and he was just
the same to them all. He was the reverse of dazzled, and
used to complain that the average intelligence of Londoners
was so low.’?

‘He spiced life for us all’ was another comment. The
newspapers were full of him, sometimes reporting his sayings
with warm approval, at other times indignantly contradicting
his paradoxes,

His faculty for remembering names and faces helped him
to feel at home in his new surroundings, whilst his constant
public appearances soon made him a familiar figure, and he
was drawn and caricatured under many circumstances, He
was indifferent to the criticisms of the press, and was
amused at the irritation expressed because he was supposed
to have spoken slightingly of newspapers, and to have said

* Sermon at St. Paul’s Cathedral, January 20, 1901, by Canon Scott Holland.

? Article in the Quarterly Review, April 1901.

* Article by Herbert Paul, Mineteenth Century, July 1901.
: ; Q2

228 BEGINNINGS OF LONDON LIFE

that he never read them. This remark was constantly brought
up against him. Asa matter of fact, he gave only the interval
between prayers and breakfast to reading the ‘Times,’ ten
minutes was as a rule enough, and yet he seemed to know
everything in the paper and to have grasped the charac-
teristics of all the leading public men. In the evening
he glanced at the ‘Westminster Gazette,’ and always read
‘Punch’ with great thoroughness. The ‘Guardian’ was the
only other weekly paper he looked at. He knew howto pick
up a great deal of what was going on from others,

He had been elected member of several well-known
dining clubs, ‘ The Club,’ Grillions, and ‘ Nobody’s Friends,’
and much enjoyed attending their dinners and talking with
the distinguished men whom he met there. For many years
he had been a member of the Athenzum, having been elected
(under rule 2) in 1886 ; he was an original member of the Savile.

He liked to entertain all manner of men, and it was
partly in order to be able to give dinners which public men
could attend, that he resided in London during the early
part of the season. In the summer we had Saturday to
Monday parties at Fulham, and he persuaded his London
friends to look upon a visit there as a visit into the country.
He might have to go and preach in London, but his guests
could forget that London was within reach, and spend long
lazy afternoons of talk under the trees. He tried to be at
home on Sunday afternoons, and it was then that his more
intimate friends could enjoy his society, round the tea table
in the great hall in winter, in the garden in summer, or else
pacing up and down the lawn in talk, sometimes gay, some-
times serious.

‘To his friends,’ writes one of them, ‘the Bishop was more
than kind; he was sympathetic, warm-hearted and affectionate.
And he was always the same. Whatever worries he might
have in his diocese, he did not inflict them, or the depression
they must have caused, upon his guests. He liked to talk
about something else, and what was there he could not talk
about? ... He certainly talked a lot of nonsense with
children ... he did not grow old, or even middle-aged
himself. One always thought of him as a young man, and
put down his occasional freaks to the exuberance of youth.’!

' Herbert Paul in the Vineteenth Century, July 190%.

LONDON LIFE 229

in general society he never talked shop, and no one
found it easy to pick his brains about ecclesiastical politics.
He would talk about people, always interested in trying to
understand motive and character ; about books, he was fond
of discussing the problems raised by the last novel he had
read; about politics, but rather about the ideas that lay
behind them than about the current questions of party
politics. Even some who knew him well felt it difficult to
get at his political opinions. ‘He was far more interested in
ascertaining other people’s opinions than in getting them to
adopt his own.’ His mind moved in such a different sphere
of ideas from the minds of those who were engaged in
practical politics, that they sometimes felt as if their particular
problems had no interest for him. He was concerned with
great principles, with the origins and the tendencies of the
great movements of thought, and he often remarked that it
was difficult to get people to be interested in ideas. He
loved either to hear or tell a good story, but above all
he made people talk to him about themselves. ‘And how
have you been getting on? Come and tell me all about
yourself, was his common greeting to a friend.

At Convocation times the house was filled with bishops
and other Church dignitaries, and clergy from his old diocese
were often invited. As far as possible he entertained the
London clergy, and never liked to have a dinner party
without some representatives of them. Of course they were
- all invited to the great garden parties which have been the
rule at Fulham since the days of Bishop Tait. These parties
reached such huge proportions, numbering on fine days
over four thousand guests, that it was hardly possible for
the Bishop to do more than greet each individually. But
very many of those who passed before him on these occasions
in never-ending stream were recognised and greeted with
an appropriate remark. The children, who came in large
numbers, received a specially warm welcome.

Hardly a week passed without a gathering of some sort
at Fulham; there were garden meetings in summer,
meetings in the great hall in winter, always followed by
tea, excursions of many different societies, such as the
Toynbee Travellers’ Club and various temperance bodies.

230 BEGINNINGS OF LONDON LIFE 1897

When in 1897 some Protestant association presided over by
Mr. Kensit asked to come and see Fulham, they were
entertained like anyone else. Every summer a certain
number of mothers’ meetings from poor parishes were invited
to enjoy an afternoon in the garden; his desire was to make
Fulham of use to the whole diocese.

He wished to be in close touch with those of his brother
bishops who shared with him the spiritual care of London,
and every two months spent an evening with the Bishops
of Rochester and St. Albans that they might talk over their
common problems. The Bishop of Rochester (Dr. Talbot) was
an old friend of far-off Oxford days; the Bishop of St. Albans
(Dr. Festing) he had learnt to"love and esteem at the meetings
of the East Anglian bishops. The Bishop of Rochester
says that ‘Creighton always seemed in their talks to be
more occupied with the general bearings of things, with the
real issues, than with any practical steps to be taken; his
utterances were a little “cryptic.” It seemed as if he used
these meetings to help him to think out things, and see how
they looked in the eyes of others, and that he felt that, if once
he could see a thing in its proper bearings, the action to be
taken in any particular case would disclose itself as the need
arose.’

Under normal circumstances, the work of the diocese of
London must be overwhelming, but the Bishop never had to
do with his diocese under normal circumstances. In his first
year the Jubilee of Queen Victoria and the meeting of the
Pan-Anglican Conference added enormously to his work.
He was hardly settled in London before he was called upon
to take part in the organisation of the Prince of Wales’
Hospital Fund, and in various arrangements for the Jubilee.

One of the first public acts with which he was concerned
was particularly agreeable to him on account of his sense
of the claims both of historical justice and of international
courtesy. An application was made to him by the United
States ambassador that the manuscript known as the ‘ Log of
the Mayflower,’ which was in the library at Fulham Palace,
should be restored to the American people, and given to the
custody of the American ambassador. The manuscript con-
tained not only the diary of William Bradford, afterwards

1897 THE LOG OF THE MAYFLOWER 231

governor of New Plymouth, with an account of the fortunes
of the pilgrim fathers, but also an authentic register of the
births, deaths, and marriages of the colonists of New England
from 1620-1650. The Bishop was anxious to find a means
of acceding to the request of the Ambassador. He wrote to
Lord Salisbury, sending him the application, and said :

* January 29, 1897.

‘Il have further had an interview with Mr. Bayard, in
which I explained to him that I could take no practical step
without your lordship’s sanction.

‘As far as my personal opinion is concerned, I am in
favour of restoring the MS. to the country whence it came
In the interests of study, it is well that documents should be
in the place to which they refer. Their restoration is an
occasion for international courtesy. I would further add that
the library at Fulham contains nothing else that is of
importance. It is not, therefore, in the position of a large
collection which is being deprived of a cherished possession.

‘I have spoken to the Archbishop of Canterbury, and he
is of the same opinion as myself.

‘Before, however, I give any answer to the request, I
would submit the matter to your lordship to decide 7 it
should be done, and ow it can be done.’

In reply to some inquiries made by Lord Salisbury, he
wrote again :

‘Fulham Palace : February 13, 1897.

‘My dear Lord Salisbury,—In reference to the manuscript
history of Massachusetts, which it is proposed to restore to
- the United States, I have made further inquiry from the
Archbishop of Canterbury and have further searched into the
history of the Fulham Palace library.

‘It consists of books of various kinds left by former
occupants of the See. The only bishop who seems to have
made any formal bequest was Bishop Porteus, who died in
1808, and bequeathed his books by will, together with a sum
of money for the building of a library.

‘What is apparently the catalogue of his books remains
in the library in manuscript. It contains no mention of the
manuscript now in question, nor is there any record of the
manner in which it came into the possession of the Bishop of
London.

‘It seems most probable that the manuscript at the time
of the outbreak of hostilities in Boston, was in the hands of
someone who brought it to England, and deposited it with

232 BEGINNINGS OF LONDON LIFE 1897

the Bishop of London, as ordinary of foreign and colonial
chaplains.’ .

The difficulty was to discover how an individual bishop
of London could be authorised to give up a valuable
manuscript in his official library. The Bishop consulted his
chancellor, who decided first that as the document contained
a register of marriages, births and deaths, it ought to be
kept in the registry of the chancellor of the diocese. It
was therefore given into the chancellor’s keeping, who then
held a consistory court, at which he made a formal order to
hand over ‘ The Log of the Mayflower’ to Mr. Bayard, to be
transmitted by him to the Governor of Massachusetts, on
condition that photographie fac-similes of the manuscript
should be given to the chancellor’s registry and to the Fulham
library.

The Bishop handed over the manuscript to Mr. Bayard
on April 30; and the following week attended as a specially
honoured guest the farewell dinner given by the American
Society in London to Mr. Bayard, when the ‘Log of the
Mayflower’ was exhibited. Mr. Bayard on his return to
America delivered the precious volume to the Governor of
Massachusetts in the presence of the two Houses of the
Legislature of the State, and of a large number of officials
and notable citizens. He wrote to the Bishop ‘such incidents
obliterate the memories of ancient feuds and ignorant pre-
judices, and bring the hearts of the kindred nations into
sympathetic and normal relations. To commemorate the
incident both the Archbishop and the Bishop were made
members of the American Antiquarian Society.

The other papers at Fulham illustrating the past history
of the see, and especially the early history of the Church in
America, which had been under the jurisdiction of the Bishops
of London, were found by the Bishop to be in a condition of
great dirt and disorder. Under his direction they were sorted
and dusted and arranged as conveniently as possible for
reference in a room set apart for the purpose. But time was
not allowed for the full cataloguing and ordering of these
papers which had been desired.

On March 30 he spoke for the first time in the House of
Lords, on the second reading of the Voluntary Schools Act.

1897 | SPEECH IN THE HOUSE OF LORDS 233

He urged that those who were always ready to speak of the
nonconformist conscience should remember ‘ that the Church
of England had also a right to possess a conscience.’ Hesaid:

‘The advocates of the voluntary system are convinced
that in maintaining that system they are maintaining
principles which are essential for the maintenance of educa-
tion itself. ... If religious education is to be genuine it
must be denominational, and have a definite point of attach-
ment to the life and character of the child who is being
taught. ... The suppression of voluntary schools by the brute
force of financial pressure would leave behind it an inex-
tinguishable sense of wrong, and would produce results most
dangerous to the well being of society.... Neither I nor any
of my brethren wish for any arrangement that will not
be satisfactory or just to all concerned. It is a matter of
deep regret to us that there should be even the appearance
of injustice towards anybody whatever in our just claim to
teach those things of which we are profoundly convinced.’

In conclusion, he claimed that those who supported the
bill were ‘animated by a nobler conception of the nature
of education, and a higher ideal of civil and religious liberty,
than was displayed by their opponents.’

His speech was very well received. It was described as
‘graceful, full of culture, and excellently delivered, perhaps
the best and freshest second reading speech made on the bill
in either House.’

To his niece Ella ‘ April 1, 1897.

‘My principal experience since I wrote last has been that
of making a speech in the House of Lords. It is about the
most awful thing you cando. Asa rule nobody listens, but
they all talk to one another. There is no applause except
that when you sit down one or two people say “ Hear, hear.”
However I made my speech late on, and was followed by
Lord Kimberley, who could not find any hole to pick in me.
I believe my speech was thought a success; but it is very
nervous work making a maiden speech, as you are not sure of
the sort of tone to adopt, and do not wish to seem cheeky.

‘Asa rule I leave home about 10 in the morning, and
return about 10 or 11 at night; sometimes in the interval
I collapse into my club and a novel; but this is rare,

‘Cuthbert and Walter have amused themselves by offer-
ing their services to the Cambridge settlement during their

234 BEGINNINGS OF LONDON LIFE 1897

vacation. They spent last night in a boys’ club at Camber-
well, playing cards and such like things with some forty little
ragamuffins. They enjoyed it very much. I do not think
people know how really amusing the London boys are, and,
indeed, the people generally. I find my work full of interest
and always new. You see there is so much more than can
possibly be done, that I have a choice what I will do.’

On Easter Monday we went to spend a few days with the
Humphry Wards, who had taken Levens Hall for the spring.

To Miss Gertrude Ward at Magila
‘Levens Hall: April 22, 1897.

‘My dear Gertrude,—I have been meaning to write to you
for a long time, but my work has been so incessant since
I went to London that the duties of friendship have been for-
gotten. Even to a bishop, Easter brings a certain repose,
and on Monday with a joyful mind I came off here for a few
days’ holiday, which I am using in discharging neglected
obligations. It is a lovely place, so old and quaint, and with
such charming surroundings that I forget all my woes and
ramble as of yore with Dorothy on the hills. There are no
clergy to interview me; I asked my chaplain to intercept
letters, and only send me those which were absolutely
necessary. So peace prevails. A bishop of London has
more to do than can be done. I must organise my possible
activities some day. But this year the Lambeth Conference
and the Jubilee, and my novelty to the work, make a fearful

pressure.
‘ Everybody here is very flourishing. Mary’ is particularly
well and gets on with her new book. . . . Sometimes it rains,

sometimes the sun shines ; the larches are turning green, and
all looks bright even when it rains. There is a sense of
idyllic charm. Humphry is just going back to work in
London. I have two days more. The world wags on with
us even as it does with you. The family grow older, and one
wonders what they are all going todo. But time alone can
show.

‘Of course I find London immensely interesting. Every-
where there is abundant life, which raises the question— Where
is it going? But there is a great loss of the personal touch
in everything one does. People are busy, seen only for a few
moments ; business and business only ; decisions given with-
out full explanations of the grounds. So much time is taken
up with pure administration that little is left for any other

1 Mis. T. H. Ward.

1897 LONDON LIFE 235

purpose. Party spirit is strong and antagonisms are hard to
overcome. I have a general sense that everybody is trying
to exploit me, and if I do not do just what they want, are
prepared to abuse me. I feel it necessary to screw my head
on tight and go my own way gently. These are my first
impressions.

‘Of course London absorbs Louise as well as myself.
She is given’ to meetings and committees. I sometimes
wonder why we do not each of us improve ourselves, instead
of holding perpetual meetings to improve one another. But
I suppose it would be more difficult and less generally
satisfactory.’

To his niece Ella ‘ April 29, 1897.

‘I had an interesting thing to do yesterday, to “ profess”
seven novices in a sisterhood. It was in their own chapel
and was very impressive, and I liked them all very much.
They nurse and keep a hospital on their premises, and three
of their patients were presently wheeled into the chapel to be
confirmed. It had a curious effect, three litters with people
clad in white suddenly appearing among the black-robed
sisters. Then I had to dine at a public dinner at Fulham;
it was severe, but one must show oneself in one’s own
neighbourhood. This morning I have been settling all about
the Jubilee with the Prince of Wales, who was very cheery
and enjoys a granddaughter.

‘Now I have more to do than can be done. I am just
going to interview the American ambassador. Then I have
a sermon to preach, and then I have some people to dinner
to talk business.’

* May 13, 1897.

‘I do not find that I grow less busy. Last week I had a
Diocesan Conference, and on Friday went to a great dinner in
honour of Mr. Bayard, the American minister, who was
departing. Then on Saturday I went to the Crystal Palace
to a display of Bands of Hope, who marched past the Duke of
Cambridge, whom I had to take care of. In the evening
I was in the chair at a dinner, and had to make speeches
about art. On Sunday I went to Kew to preach, and
lunched with the Duke of Cambridge ; thence to Islington,
where I visited the Church Missionary College, and preached
to the students. But why go on with this catalogue? It
represents my ordinary life. This week we have a houseful
of bishops who are at Convocation, and to-night a dinner
party of twenty. There is no peace or quietness.’

236 BEGINNINGS OF LONDON LIFE 1897

The Bishop met his diocesan conference for the first
time on May 6, at King’s College. His presidential address,'
was devoted chiefly to a consideration of the education
question. He said that the difficulties in discussing the
matter arose ‘from the fact that we have constructed an
education problem which has been concerned with every
possible topic but education,’ and that the ‘settlement of our
educational difficulties will come just in proportion as we set
the children before us as the class who are really concerned.
He expressed his opinion that ‘the way by which we shall
get rid of many of our old controversies and emerge into a
larger and serener atmosphere is by having a more widely
spread interest in educatior? as such.’ He seemed to foresee
the Education Bills of 1902 and 1903 when he said, ‘ It is
always hazardous to attempt to forecast the future, but
I certainly conceive that the question of secondary educa-
tion should call into being a central educational authority,
on which there should be a proper representation of educa-
tional experts... under this central council there should be
local authorities. I am certain that we shall make no
progress in education unless we have local educational
authorities.’ It would be difficult to know how to deal with
the school boards, because we have got into a position in
which it seemed to be considered sacrilegious to touch the
school boards.’ But his speech was full of hope that the
whole question might be lifted into a purer air, and that if
we could only free ourselves from the dust of past contro-
versies, a wiser educational policy might emerge.

Much time was taken in arranging details in con-
nexion with the thanksgiving service to be held on the
steps of St. Paul’s on the Jubilee day. The idea of this
service had in the first place been the Bishop’s, but it was
warmly taken up by everyone concerned. Some mistaken
notions having arisen concerning it, the Bishop departed
from his invariable custom of never writing to the news-
papers, and wrote to the ‘Times’ to explain that it was
misleading to speak as if Her Majesty’s purpose on her
drive on Jubilee day was to attend an open-air service at
St. Paul’s Cathedral. ‘The singing of the Te Deum is merely

! Published in 7he Church and the Nation, p. 216.

1897 THE JUBILEE 237

a beautiful and appropriate incident in the day’s proceedings.
It is a reminiscence of the services held throughout England
on the previous Sunday, not a substitute for them. It has no
claim to be a complete or adequate expression of religious
feeling at such atime. This will have been made before.’

The space on the steps of St. Paul’s is limited, and the
number of people anxious to be present was very large. The
Prince of Wales was specially desirous that representatives
of the various religious bodies should be stationed there, and
the Bishop exerted himself to see that his wishes were carried
out, and to have invitations issued in such a way as to hurt
the susceptibilities of as few people as possible.

Many had desired that a representative of the Russian
Church should attend the Jubilee, and after some negotiations
the Bishop was able to announce through the ‘ Times’ that
Lord Salisbury had received a despatch from Her Majesty’s
ambassador at S. Petersburg, in which his excellency reports
that ‘Monseigneur Antonius, Archbishop of Finland, has
been deputed by the Holy Synod to attend the Jubilee of
the sixtieth anniversary of the Queen’s accession to the
throne.’

The Russian Archbishop was invited to stay at Fulham,
and arrived on Thursday, May 17, accompanied by an
interpreter and General Kireief,a charming and cultivated
man, who spoke English perfectly. The Archbishop was a
distinguished-looking man and a very agreeable guest. He
‘spoke only Russian, and all conversation had to be carried on
by means of an interpreter. But he entered most charmingly
into our home life—our family party had been increased by
the Bishop’s nephews and nieces, who came up to London
for the Jubilee~and interested himself in all our young
people. He was a central figure at our garden parties, in his
long flowing robes with his tall hat and veil falling behind.
Many Russians came to see him, and Mr. Birkbeck took him
to visit various English churches and clergy, and to the uni-
versities to receive hon. degrees.

Sunday, June 20, was the day appointed by the Queen
for solemn services of thanksgiving for the mercies of her
reign. The Bishop preached at the service at St. Paul’s

' Archbishop Antonius has since become Metropolitan of Russia.

238 BEGINNINGS OF LONDON LIFE 1897

Cathedral, which was attended by the Prince and Princess of
Wales, and other members of the royal family, by the
members of the Government, the ambassadors, the colonial
premiers, and representatives of every class of the nation.
The Archbishop of Finland came in a splendid purple cope,
his train borne by two attendants in tunicles of white
damask silk and cloth of gold, bearing in his hand an ancient
crozier set with jewels.

The Bishop’s sermon, which could be heard in every part of
the densely crowded building, lifted the thoughts of all to
discern the real meaning of the occasion. He spoke of the
necessity of gathering the lessons brought by a time of
heightened national consciousness, by a great moment of exul-
tation. He said that ‘nations are strong in proportion as they
have a clear conception ofa national destiny ;’ that ‘ no nation
has continued great that has not had a growing consciousness
of a universal mission, founded on a general belief in justice
and righteousness, a burning passion toapply them first within
her own limits, and then to carry them wherever her influence
could reach.’ He singled out ‘as the great characteristic of the
Victorian era, an awakened conscience about our duties to our
fellows.’ In his words about the Queen he expressed his own
strong personal devotion. ‘ We honour our Queen as ruler was
never honoured before, because we can look upon her, during
all the long years of her eventful reign, as the unchanging
and unwavering representative of this desire to moralise all
human relationships, which is the flower of our civilisation. ...
We feel how much is due to her who, removed from the
shocks of the conflict of opinions, yet keenly interested in
everything that affected the country’s welfare, has exercised a
moderating influence with unfailing discretion.... She has
taught Europe how a ruler can command the reverence
and win the affection of a free people.’ In conclusion he
pointed out the lessons which the English people might learn
from the example of the Queen, and bade them remember
the steadfast discipline of character required for the duties
of her high office. ‘We need more of the spirit of discipline.
It remains as the great undertaking before us to show how
free men will bear the yoke of discipline, how they will
learn the responsibility which attaches to opinions, how they

1897 THE JUBILEB 235

will readily contribute their separate wisdom to the common
store. From the Queen’s example we might learn more
sympathy with the aims and aspirations of other nations.
‘Let us offer the fruits of our experience to other countries
with greater humility and better understanding of their
present position. ... The time has come when we must
labour to extend our influence by greater meekness, and
must condition our frankness by the sympathy which is in-
culcated by the maxim “ Honour all men.”’!

On the Jubilee day the Bishop stood by the side of the
Archbishops on the steps of St. Paul’s to welcome the Queen.
His appearance was thus described in the ‘ Daily Chronicle’ :

‘His cope was of a stuff which more than taxes possibility
of description,’ and just as he came out the first glimpse of
sunshine fell upon him, and his keen intellectual, kindly and
firm face seemed to light up as though he had had in some
far-away past a dream of pontifical pomp of which this was
in part a realisation. Upon his head he wore a skull-cap of
pure cloth of gold, and it pivoted the eyes of all who looked
on as the sun caught it, and dashed back its reflection in the
eyes of thousands.’

After the ‘Te Deum’ had been sung the Bishop said the
Jubilee Prayer ‘with that clear musical voice of his which
seemed to penetrate the great gathering.’ At the end of the
brief ceremony the Queen motioned to him to come forward,
and expressed her satisfaction with the arrangements.

‘To Lady Grey

‘The Jubilee was a tremendous labour in many ways.
The Queen said to me that it was a beautiful service, and
she had enjoyed it very much: she asked me to thank all
concerned. The Prince of Wales wrote me a letter next day
to say that he had never seen anything better managed or
more impressive, so that we were covered with glory.’

At the Queen’s request he wrote for her an account of his
impressions on this occasion.

' The sermon is published in 7he Mind of St. Peter and other Sermons.

? This cope was presented by the late Mr. Offley Wakeman. It was made of
the silk that had been woven for the coronation robe of the Empress Frederic,
and is the only piece of that particular brocade in existence. It now belongs to
the diocese, and is worn by the present bishop.

240 BEGINNINGS OF LONDON LIFE 1897

Various functions connected with the Jubilee followed in
quick succession, ending with a dinner given by Mr. Chamber-
lain to meet the Colonial Premiers, and amidst all these public
functions time had to be found for confirmations and meet-
ings and the ordinary routine of work. On July 1, the Pan-
Anglican Conference met. It had been fixed for this year,
partly to enable the colonial bishops to be also present at
the Jubilee, and partly that the representatives of the Anglican
communion might meet together on the 1300th anniversary
of the coming of St. Augustine. During July, successive
parties of American and colonial bishops, many of them with
their wives and daughters, stayed at Fulham.

7

To Lady Grey ‘ August 12.

‘For the entire month of July we were engaged in enter-
taining relays of American and other bishops. It was very
interesting. It increased one’s knowledge of geography and
of imperial problems. It was also interesting to see how
religion affects nationality—-I mean in the case of the Ameri-
can bishops. Anglicanism gave them a way of looking at
things which went farther than they thought. They were
very good fellows, full of fun, and with a breezy way of look-
ing at the world which was useful to contemplate. Hopeful-
ness is a characteristic of new countries as of young people,
and we ought to profit by it’

Thesessions of the Lambeth Conference continued through-
out July ; the Bishop, though present, took no prominent part
in them, but he was always ready to work, and allowed him-
self to be put on several committees. At the luncheon which
marked the close of the conference, he proposed the health
of the American bishops, and spoke of the intimacy with
them which had been promoted by the conference, and of
the sense of unity and brotherhood which had grown up.
He said ‘ that the conference would have been infinitely poor
if it had not been for the presence of their brethren from the
United States . . . not only did they introduce into the dis-
cussions a somewhat different element, but they enlivened
the private talks afterwards with the humour peculiar to
themselves. He concluded by dwelling on the permanent
gain it would be to have felt that ‘our Church remains
the same when it takes its existence among a perfectly inde-

1897 HOLIDAYS 241

pendent people. We feel in that a guarantee of its reality, of
the fundamental strength of its position, and we feel sure
that the great distinctive mark of the Anglican Church
throughout the world is that it is the Church, and represents
the ecclesiastical organisation, which is suitable to the life of
free men.’

The next day he was one of a great number of bishops
and others who, on the invitation of the Bishop of Bath and
Wells, made a pilgrimage to Glastonbury Abbey, the spot
claimed by tradition as the earliest Christian site in England.
‘Never, probably, since the Reformation,’ he said, ‘had such a
procession taken place in England as the long band of
bishops, clergy, choristers, and civic dignitaries, who, singing,
and carrying banners, made their way across the sunny lawns
to the grey ruins of the famous Abbey.’

On August 7 he started for his holiday. Already on
July 19 he had written to his niece: ‘I am now looking
forward eagerly for the beginning of the holidays, I never
looked forward to anything so much....I am slowly
beginning to end up my work, but this is difficult. I must
get away and leave things to settle themselves.’ Part of his
holidays he wished to spend with his children and nephews
and nieces, and we went, a large family party, to a house
on the banks of Ulleswater :

To Lady Grey ‘Glenridding House: August 12, 1897.
‘You ... are exploring the joys of quiet reading and
‘meditation. They have a great charm of their own: per-
haps I look upon them with exaggerated fondness because
I am never likely to enjoy them. I have the melancholy
feeling that I am now quite played out. I must go onas I am
till I fizzle away. There is no change possible. However,
there is one advantage of London life: it makes the joy of
country quiet more intense than I should have thought pos-
sible. We came here on Saturday night, the whole family
of us, and found here four of my nephews and nieces. Think
of eleven rampant young persons and tremble. Two days
spent on the hills made me ten years younger. Then came
rain, which has enabled me to write letters....I am now
trying in peace and quietness to devise some means of
not being always engaged in London. It requires great
deliberation to steel one’s heart to say no. I am engaged
VOL, IL. R

242 BEGINNINGS OF LONDON LIFE 1897

in meditating how to increase the class of things I will
not do.’

He was not content till he had climbed every hill within
reach. On wet days, and in the lake district they are many,
he joined in romps and games of the maddest kind with his
children. Sitting out watching the stars on fine evenings, or on
long walks on the hill-sides, he would talk to them on every
conceivable topic and draw them out to talk to him. He
was playfellow, friend, and companion, as well as father, and
specially tried in every way to make up to his nephews and
nieces for the loss of their parents.

To Lady Grey ” ¢Glenridding House : August 13, 1897.

‘I grow more and more enchanted with this place.
Rambling uphill just suits me. How much more beautiful
England is than any other country, on account of its size.
Here, for instance, in a day’s walk you get every kind of
mountain form and vegetation in two or three hours. In other
lands you only get one impression a day; here you geta
dozen. Size is no element in beauty, but versatility is. I am
writing an essay on scenery : this must be repressed.’

On August 26, he and I started for North Italy. Letters
had followed him to Ulleswater, but his chaplain had orders
if possible to forward nothing to Italy. He gave himself up
to the impressions of the moment and sought in close com-
panionship with nature, new life for soul and body. We
stopped first at Faido and then at Lugano.

To his niece Winifred ‘ September 10, 1897.

‘What a lovely place Lugano is! I am afraid it is more
beautiful than Cumberland. It is grander, severer, more
picturesque. Its lines are more commanding. The very
fact that so many villages are dotted about the hills with
their church towers makes it fuller of human interest. Cum-
berland is more intimate, though it looks wilder; Italy is
more suggestive and impressive, because it tells of man and
nature together.’

To his son Cuthbert ‘Lugano: September 4, 1897.
‘Dearest Cuthbert,—We are getting on, and I think

to-night the weather is going to be right. Hitherto it

has been sultry and cloudy, and things have not looked

1897 A WALK 243

their best. But yesterday made a contribution towards
a change. We had our experience of it. I think I will
try to give you a detailed account. The morning looked
doubtful, but at 11 we plucked up our courage and went
to the station, travelled to a neighbouring place, and then
struck up the hills. Only, the hills here are not at all like
those of Cumberland, for you make for a village at once,
generally by ay path through chestnut woods. We found a
lovely view, and went on to one village and then to another
still higher, then above that lay a monastery. We made
for that, and had a lovely view of lakes and mountains. It
was then half past one, and we felt hungry. I rang the
monastery bell, and in about five minutes a dirty ragamuffin
appeared, who looked as if he had just got out of bed. I
asked for some bread and cheese and wine. He mumbled
something and retired. I thought he had gone to get it, but
after waiting a quarter of an hour nothing appeared, and there
was no sound of anything. So we shook off the dust against
that monastery and descended to the nearest village: it looked
hopelessly dirty. So we made for another. Then I caught
a boy and asked him if I could get some wine. He led me
through a narrow lane and to a house, and said that was an
inn. [entered and found an old woman seated among the
débris of innumerable cabbages, cutting them up with one hand
and with the other nursing a child who was ill with bronchitis.
The room had a wood fire, with a huge pot in which the
cabbages were boiling. Cocks and hens were roaming all round,
and a travelling pedlar was seated, sadly having a drink of
wine. I preferred a humble request for some food, and the
good woman said that this was not a luxurious hotel. I re-
‘plied that it was among the best I had ever visited, and
murmured bread and cheese. Cheese she thought was im-
possible, but suggested sausage. I assented, and she went
out to buy one. On her departure the child screamed
continuously and refused all comfort. Presently she returned
triumphantly with a sausage, which she proceeded to cut
into slices. Bread and knives followed. I asked for wine, but
she insisted that I must have a bottle, not the common wine
on draught. I agreed, and she descended into her cellar,
She produced her bottle, and it certainly quenched one’s thirst
admirably. It was sparkling vinegar, so sharp that it took
your breath away, and led you to wonder if you could ever
drink again. We satisfied our ravening hunger, while the
good lady proceeded to cut up apples and add them to the
boiling pot. What the effect of cabbages and apples boiled

244 BEGINNINGS OF LONDON LIFE 1897

together might be I cannot say. I inquired what it was, and
learned that its name was mazale; but whether it was to be
eaten by man or beast I was not quite sure. Presently she
produced a dish of excellent peaches for us. Her charge for
this repast was one and a half francs, of which one franc
was for the wine. We parted with expressions of mutual
gratitude. By this time it was three o’clock and we were
nearly ten miles from Lugano. The clouds had gathered
and it began torain. I had a notion of going across the hills,
but mother objected to forests in the rain. So we tried the
road, which led by a pretty little lake. At the next village
I asked for a short cut, and was shown a path which led at
last through vineyards. Meanwhile the sky had grown very
black, and it was clear that rain was really coming. In the
middle of the fields the storm suddenly fell upon us, a mighty
thunderstorm. The wind rose, the air was black, we were
enveloped in thick fog, the lightning flashed with splendid
forks close to me, so that I felt it warm my left cheek; the
thunder crashed as I never heard it crash before. In a
moment we were wet to the skin, and every sign of a
road had disappeared. The noise was such that we could
not hear one another speak. There was nothing to do but
to plunge on. Luckily we soon came to a road, but in the
darkness took a wrong turning, which slightly lengthened our
walk. In time we reached a village, where the streets were
half a foot deep in water. There we found we were an hour
from Lugano. We got there—to the opposite end from our
hotel—and had to trudge on, as no cab or tram had dared
to face the storm. Mother is bemoaning a ruined dress.
Even the natives say that they have seldom seen such a storm.
It was an amusing experience, but it would not do every

day.’

We went next to stay with Count Balzani and his two
little girls in a villa amongst the vineyards near Ivrea. It
was a spot of rare beauty, with a view on one side up the
Val d’Aosta into the mysterious depths of the great moun-
tains, and on the other over the sunny plain of Lombardy.
Here, wandering day after day amongst the lower slopes of
the Alps, we watched the vintage and the ingathering of
many kinds of fruit and grain.

A few days after his return to England, he visited Leicester
to open the new Technical and Art Schools built by the Cor-
poration. The memory of his mountain walks must have been

1897 UNDENOMINATIONALISM 245

lingering in his mind when he said, in his speech at the public
luncheon, ‘Industry does not in itself immediately add to the
beauty or the grace of the neighbourhood in which it is

domiciled . . . We see in all the surroundings of our life the
distinct loss of the element of beauty. The object of art
teaching is... that we may havea great sense of beauty

influencing the life of everyone.’

The same day he was presented with the oil paintings,
which the citizens of Leicester had allowed him to choose for
himself as a farewell present. In thanking for them he said:

‘If as one grows older one measures one’s life by the
thought of the kindnesses one has received and the response
one has met with from others, then these five years have been
the most fruitful of my life. During the time I lived amongst
you, I met with nothing but unfailing kindness on all hands;
and the longer I live, the more deeply I am convinced that
the true and abiding qualities are not the intellectual qualities
but the qualities of absolute simplicity and straightforward-
ness and the desire for the right. . . . The task that I set
before myself—no, it was not really a task because it was the
easiest and the most obvious thing to do—was to go about
amongst you saying, as simply and frankly as I could, what I
thought upon any subject which was brought before me. If
in so doing you feel I have been of any use, I can only
express my sincere thankfulness, and thank you in return for
the many kindnesses which you have shown me.’

It was the custom in London for the Bishop to attend and.
.address a chapter and a conference of each of his rural
deaneries in the autumn. This custom the Bishop kept up,
but he did not follow his predecessor’s plan of allowing the
deaneries to elect their own rural deans. He preferred to
choose them himself, as he regarded the rural dean as his
representative in the deanery, not as the representative of the
clergy.

This year the subject of his twenty-two addresses to the
clergy was ‘Undenominationalism.’ These addresses were
extempore, and no doubt varied a good deal on the different
occasions. The following notes have been supplied by one of
those who heard him:

‘Undenominationalism may be a clumsy word, but it
expresses the very common idea that it is possible to get hold

246 BEGINNINGS OF LONDON LIFE 1897

of the spirit of Christianity without being troubled by forms
and dogma, and that it is a noble thing to rise above forms
and dogma. . . . The causes leading to this attitude may be
classified under three main heads.

‘(1) Political causes. In these days of fully developed
democracy every man is a politician. The chief result of
democracy has not been, as many imagine, a change of method
in the management of national business, but an extension of
interest in the conduct of national business throughout the
whole nation. This has made the work of the politician
harder. He knows that no one can have things arranged
exactly as he would desire. To him the question always is
“How can this particular matter be most conveniently
settled?” He is constantly ,occupied in settling incon-
venient questions, and he naturally wishes to do this in the
easiest possibleway. Any view which stands upon a principle
is a hindrance to him. Religious principles in particular
stiffen the human will so much, that the politician finds that
the human stuff on which he has to work does not yield to
him as easily as he would wish. The very existence of the
Church is a trouble and annoyance to practical statesmen.
We are a nuisance to them. Weare as grit in the wheels
of the machine which they are trying to turn. Still the
politician wants the assistance of religion as far as it can help
his purposes. But from that point of view he approaches it
on its undogmatic side. He likes to appeal to those large
principles of religion which assert the Fatherhood of God and
the dignity of man. He wants from religion just as much as
is needed for his purposes and no more.

‘(2) Moral causes. The awakened conscience of the
present day has been directed towards great philanthropic
aims .... and philanthropy wants a simple straightforward
sort of religion which will give it the force needed to carry
out obvious improvements. Its sphere is limited. It may
aim at doing good in a large way, but it often ends merely
in such things as the provision of better water and drainage.
But, as religiously minded men work to improve the conditions
of their fellow-creatures, they are naturally led to feel a great
horror of the many evils which result from the dissensions
among Christian people. They express their sense of the
unnaturalness of these evils by a desire for unity, which often
shows itself in a way which does more credit to their general
moral feelings than to their intellectual capacity to appreciate
the issues involved in the differences between organised
religious bodies.

1897 UNDENOMINATIONALISM 247

‘Their desire for unity rests on a moral not on an intel-
lectual basis, and they impatiently ask “ Why do you not all
agree to pick out what you have in common and to let all the
rest go?”

‘(3) Intellectual causes. It has been a permanent feature
of the English people to show themselves incapable of theo-
logy. .. . We have had contentions enough, but we have
contended not about ideas, but about external things.
Englishmen cannot grasp an idea, they have a natural hatred
for intellectual speculation. The whole method of the growth
of scientific thought with which this age is permeated is
averse to the conception of the truth having been once for
all revealed. . . . Theology cannot be a developing science in
the same sense as other sciences are, because truth does not
change, though there is a variety in the truths which at
different times most prominently occupy the thoughts of
religious people; at the beginning of this century the doctrine
of the Atonement was emphasised, to-day the doctrine of the
Incarnation.

‘All these various tendencies combine to produce a
nebulous form of religion. The desire to get at the spirit of
a thing without going through the process necessary to under-
stand it is very hazardous. People demand that theology
should be immediately obvious to them without their having
taken any trouble to get hold of it. This is partly due to the
insolence so common at present, which leads a man to think
that he can dispense with any discipline of character or of
intelligence. . . . It leads to the destruction of Christianity as
a religion, and converts it into a sort of moral philosophy, ©
which rests upon the notion that the “spiritual man” is
merely “the natural” man at his best, and does not realise
that the “spiritual man” is a “ new creature.”

‘Religion is always decaying in the hands of the multitude;
it has to be revived by individuals, and we who are engaged
in teaching Christianity as a religion, as the means of estab-
lishing a relation between the soul and God, must never allow
it to fall into the sphere of the world’s activities,

At the evening meetings of the ruri-decanal conferences,
at which the lay members were present, the Bishop spoke
this year on ‘Purity.’ He maintained that it was an even
more important question than that of temperance, but that
very little had been done by the Christian Church to bring it
forward. There had been a conspiracy of silence. He urged

248 BEGINNINGS OF LONDON LIFE 1897

that men should begin with their children, and try to warn
and instruct their sons. He said that the existing confused
thought on the matter arose from a heresy which had caused
much difficulty by the confusion which it had made between
the terms flesh and body. ‘The body is God’s gift to man;
when not under due control it becomes the flesh, and is a source
of evi]. Let us try to restore the body to its proper dignity.
All great literature, and especially that of the New Testament,
recognises the dignity of the body. How many of its images,
how much of its poetry, are drawn from child-bearing. This
is one of the greatest and most obvious facts of life, and
fathers ought to teach their sons concerning it.’

In February of this year, he Opened a three days’ mission
on the same subject at St. James’s, Piccadilly, and preached
at a midnight service to a large congregation of men who had
been gathered in from the streets outside by a band of lay-
workers. One who mingled with the crowd as they dispersed,
heard a man say, ‘If we heard more talk from Bishops like
this one down here, the condition of society would soon be
altered.’

The question of the religious teaching in Board schools
was once more attracting attention in view of the School-
board election. The Bishop did not think it well to make
any public utterance in connexion with the election. To one
of the moderate party he wrote, ‘My own view would be to
enforce the legal and full observance of all that the Board
system rendered possible.’ After the election he tried to get
the different religious parties to work together.

To the Hon. Evelyn Cecil ‘October 9, 1897.

‘Yesterday I agreed to be present at a conference
with some nonconformist leaders to discuss the Orpington
achemeé, 4.

‘I think we need not be unduly discouraged. The matter
is so complicated that it is difficult to get any issue which is
definite and does not seem to claim advantage for one party
or another. We are labouring under the refuse of past
controversy. Any proposal which contains the principle
that we have a right to teach our children what we believe
is to me valuable. At the same time I have not much
hope of any result from the conference.’

1897 RELIGIOUS EDUCATION 249

To the Rev. W. F. Dawson, Congregational pastor, Lichfield
* November 2, 1897.
‘My dear Sir—I am obliged for your communication
about religious teaching. I sincerely hope that all Christians
will agree in asserting its primary importance, and will sink
all minor differences before the maintenance of this great
principle.’

Preaching on October 30 at the opening of the schools of
St. Stephen’s, Westbourne Park, he said, ‘ The true patriot will
strive to maintain in full force all those spiritual influences
which play around the young soul and frame the character in
youth. We may talk about environments and conditions of
living ; it is well to attend to these too; but it is to the opera-
tion of these spiritual influences, brought to bear upon the
young mind by the teaching of Christian principles, that we
must look for the formation of character and the power to
sustain it in after years;’ and again: ‘ To belittle religious
education is to drop out the one thing which answers the
child’s question “ Why should I learn at all? ”’

Christmas brought a brief respite to his incessant work.

To Miss Margaret Goddard ‘January 8, 1898.

‘We both of us celebrated our festivities under altered
circumstances this year. But it is odd how soon one feels
about a house as if one had always lived there. I wish you
would come and see Fulham: it is quite a nice place. We
' had a huge party: all the family at home, and six nephews
and nieces. We made ourselves merry, played hockey,
danced in the evenings, had a Christmas tree, and finally went
to Barnum’s circus. This was very frivolous.’

During these and other holidays, he enjoyed going with
his children to some museum or picture gallery, or having a
ramble amongst the City churches. He was a delightful
cicerone, for he never tried to impose his views, and allowed
everyone to go his own way, but was such a keen sightseer
that others were kindled by his enthusiasm, and stimulated
to try to understand and appreciate what they saw.

He notes that during 1897 he delivered 294 sermons and
addresses of different kinds.

250 BEGINNINGS OF LONDON LIFE 1897

LETTERS 1897

To M. Pobiedonostzeff, Procurator of the Holy Synod in
Russia ‘Fulham Palace, S.W.: February 13, 1897.

‘My dear M. Pobiedonostzeff—Thank you very much for
your most interesting book,' which I have been reading as far
as I have leisure. I agree with you about the strength of
national sentiment, as expressed in the actual form assumed
by religion, and the prominence consequently given to
certain ideas. But I do not think that the attitude of the
English Church is fairly expressed by Carlyle, Froude and
Stephen. Carlyle was a Scottish Calvinist, Froude left the
Church, and was avowedly a Christian at large : Stephen was
an agnostic lawyer and judge, who never professed Christian-
ity, but was a cultivated materialist ... All these men
express tendencies of the English character, which are real,
and have done much to make England what it is—which also
exist in some forms of popular religion. But they have
never had their home in the English Church. I freely admit
that the English Church has not found room for them, and
therefore does not contain all the English people. Noncon-
formity seems to many minds more practical, and less
imaginative. The English Church retains older conceptions,
largely in accordance with yours, which in some respects do
[not] accord with the lines of natural development.

‘I think that allowance must be made, in a survey of
history, for the Teutonic conscience. I cannot say how it came
about; but the fact is clear that conscience has a larger hold
of the Teuton than of the Latin or the Slav. This was the real
strength of the Reformation. Conscience was appealed to as
the supreme judge, and the intellectual controversy was only
an expression of this in the region of theology. I admit that
this setting of morality in the foremost place narrowed the
scope of religion, and put much Christian truth in a secondary
place. I admit that it set up a standard of morality which
was mainly dictated by social needs rather than spiritual
truth. But I think that the conscience created the form of
religion, not that the theology of the sixteenth century
formed a morality.

‘In your general view I agreed with you: but I think that
the English Church, instead of being the chief instance of
this Teutonic tendency, has witnessed against it, and has

1 Reflections of a Russian Statesman. The Bishop refers especially to the essay
on The English Church.

1897 LETTERS 251

maintained, as far as it could, a larger and more spiritual
view of truth.

‘But I did not mean to inflict my opinions upon you. I
have come to a very large work, which will never leave me
time to write again, and little time even to think. I can only
say that I learned much from my visit to Moscow, and that
my sympathy will always be with you.’

To his niece Winifred ‘February 18, 1897.

‘I feel tempted to say something about your remark
that living in Naworth would not be commonplace but
dreamlike. Iam afraid that life is and must be commonplace.
Dreams are only possible occasionally, and we always want to
make what is exceptional become ordinary. This cannot be.
We love things because of their unlikeness to what we have
or do. Relief comes from change, but we cannot discover
anything from which no relief is needed. Life always
consists of humdrum duties, and difficulties are the same
whatever are the surroundings ... Everybody’s life is his
own, and depends on training oneself to see the limits of our
possibilities and how all happiness comes from within.

To the Rev. Canon Benham ‘Fulham Palace: March 31, 1897.

‘My dear Dr. Benham,—Your subject [for his proposed
Boyle lectures] is interesting, and ought to be profitable.
May I make a remark about ‘the awakening of conscience’?

‘It is only a question of words: but do you think that
conscience was the first religious faculty? I think conscience
is a term which ought to be rather carefully guarded for a
special sense. Even Socrates had a rudimentary notion of it,
which he could only express in a theological and mystic
sense. Aristotle is vague about it. St. Paul in Romans i.
first specifies the function of ouveldnots. It was left for
Butler to analyse conscience: and the results of his analysis
are now constantly blurred by a loose use of the word.

‘I advise you to put “religious consciousness” for
“conscience.” But you may not agree with me. You mean,
I take it, the power of perceiving God and thinking of Him.’

To the Bishop of Rochester
(on the death of Rev. R. Wilson, Warden of Keble College)
‘Fulham Palace: May 16, 1897.
‘My dear Bishop,—Alas, I knew that there was but one
end possible, and that speedy. But we have lost a friend who
was not like anybody else. Perhaps I knew him before you

252 BEGINNINGS OF LONDON LIFE 1897

did--and then he was another Wilson, yet the same. He
always went his own way, and was more free from self-
seeking than most men. Fastidious almost to a fault, he
was the soul of honour and loyalty. His great quality was
that he thought out things for himself, and had a singularly
clear insight into the important tendencies of movements.
His judgment was singularly sound.

To the Rev. H. Rowsell ‘Fulham Palace, S.W. : June 4, 1897.

‘Dear Mr. Rowsell— ... ‘It is a plain fact that
Augustine’s coming was the beginning of Christianity. The
sees of Canterbury, London, and Rochester date from him.
He sent Paulinus to Northumbria, but his work was undone.
Still there is great reason to ,point the analogy between
mission work now and then. When Central Africa is civilised
and has its Church, I hope that its people will recall the first
missionaries, be they Roman, Anglican, Scottish, or English
—whether their form of Christianity was permanent or not.
The wisdom and love of Pope Gregory, the zeal of Augustine,
are facts which as Christians we ought to be proud to recall ;
and I think we ought to claim them as achievements of a
common Christianity which lies beyond all controversy, and
proves nothing but the desire of Christians to make the Gospel
known.’

To G. H. ‘July 1, 1897.

‘About your brothers, I do not think you will do much
good by arguing, or by letting them talk about things wildly.
They will only say things more strongly than they think for
the purpose of annoying you. Your position might well be
this: “You know my opinions; and you know I do not
agree with yours; when you want my help, I will give it to
you as much as I can, but no good is done to either of us by
talking about these things on which we differ... .” But I
think generally you will find that the good you do will come
from your own character and example. This does more than
talk. People are rarely convinced by argument, but are
moved by the sight of another kind of life. It is not our
wisdom that helps, but our goodness. The power of simple
goodness is the greatest in the world, and you may have that
if you pursue it.’

The following letter was written to a man unknown to the
Bishop, who wrote to say that he was dying of an incurable,
painful complaint, and was without faith, that he could not

1897 LETTERS 253

accept the Christian Faith. He implored to be told what
book he should study to guide him in the right path.
‘Fulham Palace: July 15, 1897.

‘My dear Sir,—You have my deepest sympathy. Last
year I had to stand by and see my only brother die of the
same disease as you describe. He was suddenly informed
that he had no more than three months to live, and it was so.

‘I would that I could help you. I know the sincerity
that comes from the imperative demand for a clear and steady
outlook on life and its end. Let me make a few suggestions.

‘There can be no convincing proof of anything that affects
our inner character. What “convincing proof” have you that
your wife loves you or your child? Yet you believe it, and
that belief is more real to you than anything that you know
or can prove. Religion must be a matter of belief, not of
proof. It depends on a consciousness of the relation between
our soul and God. Immortality depends on the knowledge
of the meaning of our soul’s life which we obtain from looking
at it in the light of God. The more we find our soul, the
more readily do we see God in the person of Jesus Christ.
Look back upon your own life, your growth, the traces of
Providence, the presence of God’s love. Do you think that
all this wonderful process can come to an abrupt end ?

‘These are general considerations. I can only commend
them to you. There is nothing that can be said in proof
of this to you. Look into your own heart; pray, and ask
God to enlighten you. Reading will not help you ; argument
on either side is barren. The only thing I can recommend to
you is the Gospel of St. John. Read it and weigh it. Con-
sider the view of life which it contains. May God bless you,
for He alone car do so.

‘IT am your sympathising brother in Christ,
‘M. LONDON :’

His correspondent answered thanking him earnestly, and
saying that he would follow his advice, and later his wife
wrote that he died three months afterwards in perfect peace
and faith. |

To a friend who had been left a widow
‘ Glenridding House, Penrith: August 17, 1897.
‘, . . You must feel all the weariness and desolation you
can before you can emerge. Think that no life which leaves
ennobling memories has disappeared. It is there still, active
and operative; changed in form, working another way, but

254 BEGINNINGS OF LONDON LIFE 1897

equally near. The limits of time and space belong only te
our imperfection. We can transcend them even here. The
task before you is to live into a larger and less personal world ;
I mean a world in which sight and touch go for less, and
feeling and impulse go for more. It is a process which we all
have to go through. Even if there be not separation, the
advance of years demands it equally. All whom we know
and love have to fade from forms into influences, but become
stronger by so doing.’

To G. H. ‘Glenridding House: August 10, 1897.

‘It is dreadful when a man does not respect and love his
wife ; but it is hard for anyone else to put it right. The only
advice you or anyone can give,to a wife is to hold to her
husband and try to improve him. Let her learn to keep her
own temper, and in time she may succeed in turning him to a
better way. But it is necessary that she should make him
respect her ; she may not be able to do this by her wisdom or
cleverness, but she can always move him by her goodness in
the long run. To be patient, not to answer back, to do her
best quietly—these are hard things to do, but they can be
done. . . . No good can come from leaving him. She would
be equally unhappy, and he would grow worse. Ifa woman
marries a man, it must be because she saw something in him
once; she must remember that and try to make it real.’

‘Ivrea: September 14, 1897.

‘It is hard to learn how little we can do for another. It
seems so easy to put them right; such a little change is
necessary ; the matter seems so easy to explain.. But they
will not listen to one’s explanation, nor do what one advises.
You have to learn that the only thing you can really do for
another is to pray for him. You see people do not do wrong
because they do not know what is right, but because they
have no proper motive to do it. This is the real point about
religion. It gives a motive to do the will of God. We all of
us know the strength of the motive of doing the will of some-
one wiser and better than ourselves. This finds its true
expression in doing God’s will. You seem to think that if
you were wiser, you might help others more. I doubt if this
is really so. It is a beliefin their own wisdom which leads
them astray. They say, “Other people are foolish; I will
think and act for myself.” It is of little use to argue with
them. They think you are bound by vulgar prejudices. All
you can do is to hold up the simple truth, that happiness does
not lie in self-assertion and self-seeking, but in humble

1897 LETTERS 255

submission and teachableness to a higher law. You see the
two points of view are so different that you cannot meet by
talking. It is the little child who enters into the kingdom of
heaven; the carnal mind cannot understand the things of God.
Those who will not learn cannot learn. It is not your
wisdom but your simplicity which will help others. Yet there
is a wisdom which we all need—greater knowledge of God’s
will. Read the first chapter of the Epistle of St. James, and
you will find the use of trial (there called temptation) and the
use of wisdom set forthe You must do what you can and
never lose hope, and leave yourself and others to God.’

To his niece Winifred ‘ Lugano: September ro.

‘Don’t make efforts to write to me, but brabble on as if
you were talking, and tell me all that you are thinking about.
You know that I want to get you to unpack yourself. We
all begin by being vague and dreamy, and the process of life
is to get us to see things clearly. We can never do this
except by writing. Even talking is nothing compared to
writing. Ideas when put into shape stay with us, and we
can recall them and correct them. So please write to me very
fully about yourself. . . . Success in life means making one’s
life large. We all live in the same world, but each of us lives
in that part of the world which we choose to make our own.
Your danger is to live ina small world because you cannot
take the trouble to explore. I want you to feel, and think,
and struggle into more and more ideas. I am glad you
enjoy Stevenson : he is a perfectly wholesome-minded writer,
which many are not. His world is a nice world, and this
_ makes all the difference.’

OG. Bd ‘Fulham Palace: April 29, 1897.

‘I just have time to jot down a few remarks on the
matter of Christianity and progress. What is progress?
I suppose man’s adaptation of himself to his surroundings,
growth of knowledge, industry, &c. But does that give
happiness? Obviously not: it makes life harder to all, to
governors and governed alike. . We find, as a matter of fact,
that former civilisations perished because it was too trouble-
some to carry them on. The work exceeded the capacity.
Look at Babylon, Egypt, Assyria, &c. Then Rome made a
longer stand, but went at last. Why? Because it could not
produce strong enough characters to do its work any longer.

‘What makes progress possible? The existence of
resolute characters to do a nation’s work.

256 BEGINNINGS OF LONDON LIFE 1897

‘What creates and maintains such characters? Nothing
in the long run, but a strong ideal of the nation’s destiny.
And this ideal must be religious, There is no other form
possible. Rome flourished so long as a simple religion made
simple patriotism possible. It fell when its people became
agnostics. Now any form of religion tends to degenerate in
the multitude. The point about Christianity is that it is
capable of infinite revivals. The Christian religion has been
made the covering of many political projects which were not
wise. It has never been permanently associated with them,
but has supplied the means of overthrowing them. You say
that only now-a-days are we beginning to know the meaning
of justice and mercy. Men have always known: they have
not always acted up to their knowledge. We do not do so
yet. We talk more sentiment on these points: do we act
up to it? Some time ago a friend of mine said “ Modern
philanthropy is merely a refinement of selfishness: We are
so desirous of being comfortable, that we want to make every
body else comfortable decause it diminishes our own comfort
to think they are not so.’ ‘There is much truth in this jibe.
Look deeper, and you will see that, though moral aims are
common to all good men, Christianity alone supplies motive
to pursue them, which is capable of universal extension.’

‘The Atheneum: May 26, 1897.

‘Every science exists to its experts as a body of truth:
outsiders go and pick up what they want from it, as interest-
ing to them, and know that they are not experts and are not
fit to criticise the system. )

‘But in theological matters every outsider asserts that
what fits him is the whole system, and denounces any
scientific system at all—i.e. he does not admit that theology
is concerned with truth, but with the satisfaction of his
particular needs.

‘ The orthodox theologian is really the same as the expert
in any other science. No other science so directly touches
human life; therefore the truth has a greater risk of being
dissolved to suit fashion.

‘If Jesus was not God, Christianity is not a religion, but
a contribution to moral philosophy. It is in this latter way
that it appeals to you. But mankind want a religion: and
it is as a religion that Christianity works in the world.

‘Moral philosophy bids us make the best of ourself, prefer
the higher to the lower, love virtue, &c. Religion tells how
we can see God, be helped by Him, resign our life to Him,

1897 LETTERS : 257

trust in Him because we believe in an eternal life with Him.
This life with God is made certain toa Christian because
Jesus Christ, the Son of God, unveiled on earth the human
life of God.

‘You tend to draw a vast distinction between the divine
and the human. The Incarnation declares that the distinc-
tion is not insuperable. And this is the most important
practical point. Think it out, consider the difference between
saying “I wish to be a very good man,” and “I wish to be
like God.” The Unitarian says the first, the Christian says
the last. But the motives appealed to are worlds apart.’

‘Faido, Italy : August 30, 1897.

‘I cannot answer your arguments. I can rarely under-
take to answer anyone. It is quite natural for us to approach
any subject for the purpose of receiving individual satis-
faction, and to reject with scorn everything that does not fit
ourselves. Christianity is a series of principles. I cannot
defend entirely any form of organisation which has endea-
voured to set them forth. I notice failures serious and
damaging. But then, liberty is a principle, and I notice far
more grievous failures in every system which has claimed to
set forth liberty. The Christian Church may have been
inadequate, but it has always maintained Christianity : insti-
tutions established to maintain liberty generally in fifty
years’ time have maintained the opposite. There is always
a charm in the critic who points out inconsistencies. But if
he remains there, he is merely a parasite. Parasites have
their use no doubt, but they have no separate existence.
The sceptic has his use, but it all springs from the system
. which he criticises. So long as he is a critic, he is bound to
show that he can do as well as those whom he criticises.
But if he were to succeed in criticising them out of existence,
where would he be?

‘Our individual life consists in the consciousness of a pur-
pose : this consciousness cannot go far unless it reaches to a
divine purpose, which runs through the universe. \ Those who
proclaim such a purpose, and hold to it, are miles above those
who have it not : even though the first fail to appreciate the
responsibility of their knowledge, while the second supply
their defects. The reason is that the first uphold an abso-
lutely necessary truth, on which individual happiness and
human progress alike depend : the second do useful work, of
a mechanical kind, in their day and generation, but have no
outlook and produce no abiding results. The history of the
Christian Church is a singular instance of this. Its strength

VOL. II. S

258 BEGINNINGS OF LONDON LIFE 1897

in early days lay in the fact that there was a body of men
who had a conception of life and character, which conception
was a bond of unity between them. The Church grew into
power because there was no other basis which could bind
men together. Yet Marcus Aurelius, Marcus Antoninus and
Julian were probably much more admirable men than the
mass of contemporary bishops. They uttered nobler senti-
ments, they behaved in an exemplary manner : but there was
no motive which they could communicate to others; no
power which they could infuse into society. At the present
day there are numbers of men like them; but “ the least in
the kingdom of heaven are greater than they.” You say truly
that they are not happy. They are working for results which
they know they cannot obtain., More and more they grimly
do their duty—both the sense of duty and the definition of
its contents coming to them from Christianity. They have
a horrible feeling of insecurity ; for if they turned their
scepticism against this sense of duty, as they have done
against Christianity, duty would go at once.

‘Religion consists in a knowledge of a divine purpose in
the world: Christianity is a grasp of this purpose applied to
our own life. Will you read with an open mind Psalm 100,
Psalm 146, and the Te Deum in this order, and I think you
will see, if you meditate, how absolutely they set forth the
secret of happiness and of effort in a progressive way.

‘I feel that if I were to demand individual satisfaction in
life, there would be an end of all things. I was born into
certain surroundings, I begin from them, I strive to under-
stand them and realise their full meaning. I do not yet feel
capable of using all that men before me have acquired: my
own contribution to their labours is infinitely small. If, in-
stead of this mental attitude, I took myself as I was thirty
years ago, and made that self the measure by which every-
thing was to be tested, I quail to think of the results. It is
quite true that all men are fools, but then I am a man my-
self, and as sucha fool. I cannot exempt myself from the
universal experience of my predecessors. I cannot waive
away all the teaching of history: I cannot undertake to re-
construct human society, human knowledge, and human
aspiration.

‘There has always been this “Sturm und Drang”: it is
in many cases a phase. But in England of the present day,
indeed in the world at large, it is a positive malady. There
is too much liberty of thought and speech and action. By
“too much” I mean more than people know how to use.
There is no sense of discipline and little sense of responsi-

1897 LETTERS 259

bility. Ifaman says “I think so-and-so,” sometimes I am
inclined to say, “ Friend, what right have you to think at all
about such matters? You seem to hold that the statement
that you have gone through a process, which you are pleased
to call thinking, gives an inherent value to the results which
you are good enough to state.” |

‘Frankly, we have gained a notion of liberty which has
no contents. We live in a perfect bacchanalia of nonsense.
The great question of the future is the discipline of liberty.
But remember that to live for God is to live for man. But
what is meant by living for man in that formula? Most
people seem to mean the provision of armchairs for the
intelligent artisan. I distinctly mean the setting forth of the
truth about man’s life, man’s character, and man’s destiny.
Armchairs will bring no lasting happiness either to him who
receives or him who provides them. But to quicken any
human being into a sense of the meaning of his life and
destiny—this is the one source of real happiness for us all.

‘There, I have written you a useless letter. You will say
it is clever, but unsatisfactory. God forgive me for not being
a better man, and so more able to speak out His truth. God
bless you, my dear. If you only ask Him, He will teach
you.’

‘ Fulham Palace : October 13, 1897.

‘Your frame of mind is right. The question is how to
get hold for oneself of the principles and motives of the
spiritual life. General considerations about how everyone
else ought to do so, do not do much towards helping oneself.
It is part of the modern craze to set society right, instead of
setting oneself right. So long as one bears one’s own life in
’ one’s hands, the burden grows intolerable. It is only by
seeing that life as part of a universal life that peace is found.
And the life of man is set forth in the Life of Jesus, who gives
His Spirit and His Life to those who seek it. He gives
little by little as we are able to receive. We must make
room for Him: all lies in that. We do not so much want
opinions about life—there are plenty of them—but an object
and a motive. If once you grasp this truth, the answer
comes of itself. It is not we who find out God: He finds us
out... . I am at the grindstone again, but I am trying not
to be so close to it.’

To the Bishop of Colombo (Dr. Copleston)
‘Fulham : November 3, 1897. .
‘My dear Bishop,— . . . I quite agree with you about
the distinction between visible unity and structural unity,
sa

260 BEGINNINGS OF LONDON LIFE 1897

{ hold that nations with their diversities of temperament,
institutions and customs are part of that divine order which
is revealed in the facts of human history. But, then, the
English mind is as yet under the bondage of the iron system
of the Western Church, and still hankers after uniformity.
We shall get on gradually, but we need your help with your
Imperial ideas. I stick them in whenever I have a chance,
but I cannot say that they are yet popular. We must get
on slowly.’

To Mr. J. Terry ‘Fulham Palace: December 31, 1897.

‘Dear Sir,—The question of the authorship of Shakspere’s
plays cannot well be discussed by itself. It is part of another
question. Can we at the present day hope to go behind the
belief of persons who were contemporary? If so, on what
evidence ?

‘The theory that Bacon wrote Shakspere’s plays depends
on the following prejudice :

‘Shakspere’s plays are the greatest works in the English
language. Therefore they must have been written by a very
distinguished man : but Shakspere was a common man with-
out great learning, therefore they were not written by him.
Bacon was the most distinguished man of that time; there-
fore they were written by Bacon.

‘Starting from this theory, it only needs a little ingenuity
to discover anagrams ; but Donnelly’s theory of anagrams has
been refuted by a clergyman near Stratford, whose name
I forget. A little more ingenuity on the other side is always
available.

‘But we have some positive evidence, which is in anyone’s
power to appreciate. Read Bacon’s essay on “ Love” and
then read “ Romeo and Juliet.” It is a question of common
sense if a man who could be so frigid when he wrote under
his own name, could be so impassioned when he wrote under
another name.

‘Really the question is one of the nature of poetic imagi-
nation. The poet does not need learning, but quick percep-
tion. The knowledge shown in Shakspere’s plays is that of
the artist, not of the man of science. The poet reproduces
what he sees ; the man of science analyses what he observes.
The poet could not write science, nor the man of science
poetry.

‘] do not see any reason for trying to explain away
Shakspere’s authorship’

CHAPTER VIII
THE BISHOP AND HIS CLERGY

THE spirit in which the Bishop approached his work is shown
by a letter to a former Leicester incumbent.

To the Rev. E. Grose Hodge =‘ Fulham Place: February 3, 1897.

‘My dear Hodge.—You are the only one of my parochial
clergy whom I really know, and you know something at least
of the spirit in which I try to do the difficult work of a Bishop
in the Church of England as it is at this day. Those difficu-
ties are at their height in London, and you know that I have
no belief in my exclusive possession of wisdom. But you
also know that my sympathies are genuinely with every form
of opinion, and that my object is to bring them all into close
union, without asking them to compromise, but only to be
large-hearted. Differences do not matter, but the way in
which we express them.’

From the first he saw that his path would be beset with
difficulties. The conditions of London, which is always the
home of free lances, had fostered the growth of every kind
of eccentricity and exuberant individualism, whilst the sense
. of the unity of the Church had been largely lost sight of.

Dr. Creighton’s position is best defined by his own words
in a letter to one of his clergy : ‘You know that my wish is
to maintain the widest possible liberty compatible with the
existence of the Church of England as a distinct branch of
the Catholic Church. Its position is defined in the Prayer
Book : and the services there contained must not be resolved
into other services even of a similar type;’ and again: ‘I
have a very strong opinion of the magnificent position of the
Church of England, which we never realise and refuse to
understand and make imperative through our littleness of
mind: I would rejoice if I could do anything to bring us
into such a line and order as would enable us to do the work
which God has entrusted to us.’

262 THE BISHOP AND HIS CLERGY

He explained to his diocesan conference in 1898 his
conception of his relation to his clergy.

‘ There is one thing which I should like to say as regards
my conception of the Episcopal office. It is that all the
clergy of this Diocese are alike the objects of my personal
concern and my personal care, however mistaken I may think
them to be in some points, and whether I personally agree
with them or not. Those are not the questions which, in the
first instance, it is for me to ask myself.’

He thus expressed what he felt about the position of a
bishop: ‘The root of episcopal authority is the need of
preserving unity between various congregations. This was
its original purpose. Each clergyman may have his own
view about what is good for his own people. The bishop
has to consider what is good for the whole Church.’ He told
his first diocesan conference that, though new as a bishop of
London, he was not new asa bishop, and that he did not mind
telling them a line of policy he had found wise to adopt—
‘never to give orders that you believe will not be obeyed.’

‘ My chief duty,’ he said, ‘ at present is, I feel, one of quiet
observation. But I must withdraw that epithet and substitute
another for it—it is one of unquiet observation ; for quietness
is not an attribute which is possible for a bishop of London.
I can only assure you that I try to think, when I have a few
minutes to spare for that purpose; and that what time is
over from answering questions in the course of the day I try
to devote to asking questions for my own information...
not being by nature or training a believer in government by
means of happy thoughts, I prefer not to construct policies,
nor to give utterance to my intentions, until I have had ample
means of studying the details of various questions. However,
one thing at least I should like to say, which is, that in
nothing whatever am I wedded to my own ways of doing
anything ; and that my one desire is that the course which is
pursued may be the largest, the wisest and the best.’

What the Bishop did ask of his clergy as troubles and
perplexities increased, was that they should trust him, and be
ready to be guided by him, because his position enabled him
to see the wisest course to take, in a way impossible to those
whose outlook was not so extensive.

His purpose to deal quietly with the irregularities in his

DIFFICULTIES 263

diocese was, of course, not understood. He was accused of
‘contemptuous indifference,’ of ‘masterly inactivity tempered
by epigram,’ when ‘clear and outspoken guidance’ was ex-
pected. But he knew the nature of the task before him, he
could see the pitfalls on every side, and had sufficient strength,
to use his own words, ‘ to screw his head on tight, and pur-
sue his object untroubled by hostile criticism. But he much
disliked the publicity which attached itself to his smallest act,
and the way in which his letters were printed without his
permission. He writes, ‘I mark my letters private, because
everything which I write seems to be published,in a way
which almost destroys confidential communication’; and
again, ‘It is worth while noting that the difficulty of a bishop
of London in dealing in a friendly way with his clergy is
enormous. If he writes a letter, it is at once forwarded to the
E.C.U. office, is filed for everyone to see, and he is said to
have sanctioned universally something which in a particular
case he is prepared to overlook. If he has a friendly talk, it
is at once misrepresented in any form from which most capital
may be made.’

The ‘temper’ with which church difficulties were met
often called out his severest censure.

‘The perpetual difficulty of all things in England is that
each individual Englishman is profoundly convinced that he
alone is right ; and consequently he is determined to have
his own way. Having arrived at this conclusion, he picks up
any statement which enables him to express himself forcibly,
and I believe he calls this an argument. I am never sure
that Iam intelligent enough to understand a man’s intel-
lectual position; but I think it possible to appreciate his
temper and the moral qualities which lie beneath his utter-
ances.

‘It is the curse of this diocese, and of this present time,
that everyone is labelled and thrust into the terms of some
party ... I know no shibboleths, and my one desire is to get
all things into proportion and judge them by inevitable
principles of thought, religious, intellectual, social. I always
have before my eyes the advice of Gamaliel, and I am
convinced that the purposes of God are not to be wrought by
the wrath of man.’

_ He was convinced that many difficulties would disappear,

264 THE BISHOP AND HIS CLERGY

if only the right temper were shown by the clergy. Speak.
ing to a ruri-decanal conference in 1897, he said:

*The clergy are often to blame, because in practice they
fail to set forth the spiritual side of the Christian life. They
too often adopt the world’s way of looking at things. Let
the clergy give up looking for outward signs of success, and
competing one with another. To the laity they often appear
to be “running a church” as a man runs a_ business
concern. ... Again there is a popular opinion, not ill founded,
that the clergy wish to lord it over their people, and a feeling
that the “ ecclesiastical temper” is incompatible with modern
ideas of liberty. “The unworthy clergy” are not only the
immoral and drunken, but also the insolent, arrogant and
self-asserting men, who will have their own way in
everything.’

He was always careful not to raise unnecessary ques-
tions, or to give an opening for criticism ; and at the same
time most anxious to understand the point of view of those
who differed from him, and to talk over things with his clergy.
He never forgot a principle of his own, ‘ You have to deal
with a person as he is, not as you would like him to be.’
Very many of his clergy, many even from whom he most
differed in opinion, quickly learnt to love and trust him as
a friend. He was ever ready to give an encouraging word,
and to show that he had noticed and appreciated devoted
service.

When the Bishop first went to London his suffragans were
Dr. Earle, Bishop of Marlborough, and Dr. G. F. Browne,
Bishop of Stepney, whilst Bishop Barry, then vicar of St.
James’, Piccadilly, acted as assistant bishop. When at the
end of 1897 Dr. G. F. Browne became Bishop of Bristol, the
Rev. A. F. Winnington Ingram succeeded him as Bishop of
Stepney. In 1898 Dr. Creighton was able to present the Rev.
C. H. Turner to the living of St. Andrew Undershaft, and at
the same time make him a new suffragan, with the title of
Bishop of Islington; and when in 1900 the Bishop of Marl-
borough became Dean of Exeter, the Bishop chose Dr.
F. E. Ridgeway to succeed him, with the more suitable title
of Bishop of Kensington. Each of his suffragans worked in
a special district, but the Bishop did not in any definite way
make over to them the charge of their district. He tried

APPOINTMENTS 265

himself to go as much as possible to every part of his diocese
and be in touch with all his clergy. He saw his suffragans
and archdeacons frequently. ‘I wish, he wrote, ‘for the
fullest and most intimate relations with all my officials.’ He
asked their advice on all matters connected with appointments,
which in a diocese like London have special difficulties,
The principles which guided him in such matters are shown
in the following letters :

To Archdeacon Sinclair ‘March 22, 1899.
‘Some of the prebendaries of the Cathedral ought to be
taken from men who have leisure to attend its services and
love it, and are interested in it. I like the thought of the
Cathedral being the bond which binds the aged to the
diocese.’
‘ May 23, 1900.
‘Dear Canon McCormick,—The patronage of the bishop
of London is made very difficult by the circumstances of the
diocese. There are twice as many curates as incumbents...
Generally speaking a man is not considered eligible for
preferment till he has been sixteen years in Orders, and has
worked at least nine or ten years in the diocese.
I have to look to private patrons, the Crown and trustees
to bring in new blood. But I feel that the curates are left to
my care.’

Brief and to the point were his judgments on the men
brought under his notice for possible preferment by his
’ archdeacons and others, ‘A. is never quiet, he only wishes to
havea chance of telling you and me what a great man he
is.” ‘I have a great regard for B., he is a very sensible
and nice-minded man, thoroughly zealous, but not showy,’
‘It has always seemed to me that C. is so much occupied
in maintaining his own dignity that he had no time for much
else” ‘A man who can rejoice heartily at the success of a
subordinate has greater qualities than if he succeeded
himself’ ‘D. is a difficult man to work with, and is lazy and
slovenly in some things. But his utterances are pathetic.’
‘E. is not a bad fellow, but conceited and feather-headed. A
period of retreat would be good for him,’

He regretted that the size of his Ordinations made it
difficult for him to see much of the candidates individually,

266 THE BISHOP AND HIS CLERGY

but he always managed to know something about them all.
How he struck them is shown by the following extract out of
a letter from one whom he had ordained, to his father :

‘During my days at Fulham I was deeply impressed and
delighted with the splendid agility and keenness of his intellect,
as manifested, for instance, by the way he summed up two
debates, piercing unerringly, and with the joy of the true
logician, down to the roots of the subject. But far deeper
than that is my impression of his qualities of heart and spirit,
as evidenced first at the closing address in chapel, and then
at the ordination itself. At both of them it struck me that
he was the most moved man present. He spoke from his
heart—sitting in his chair in the almost dark chapel, and I
for one will always remember his words. And yet this
was his ordinary routine work! But, in fact, his ideal of the
life of a clergyman was boundlessly high, and when he spoke
of it to those who were just assuming it, his voice had in it
the sternness and the tenderness of a prophet. I believe him
to have been one of the kingliest of men. I had two personal
interviews with him; he took one’s hand in both of his, and
his voice grew kind and tender. He knelt down with me in
his room, and committed me to God, a prayer from his heart,
not a book.’

The days before the Ordination were arranged in the
same way as at Peterborough. But the candidates had to be
dismissed on the Saturday evening, otherwise it would have
been difficult for them all to get to St. Paul’s Cathedral in
time for the Ordination Service. The custom had been for
them to scatter directly after the service, but the Bishop
arranged a lunch for them at the Chapter House, where he
could meet them once more and say good-bye to them.

His chaplains were the two archdeacons, the Rev. H. E.
Bevan, and the Rev. W. Murdoch Johnston, who had filled the
same office under his predecessor, and the Rev. C. Bigg, D.D.
and the Rev. A. T. Lyttelton, who had been his chaplains at
Peterborough. When Mr. Lyttelton resigned on becoming
Bishop of Southampton, Prebendary Covington succeeded
him. The Bishop supported his chaplains in trying to keep
up a high standard, in spite of the murmurs of incumbents,
‘It must be understood that the examination is a reality,’ he
wrote; ‘I agree with you that congregations cannot fail to
consider it discreditable that those who undertake to teach

DEALINGS WITH CURATES 267

them will not undertake to learn.’ To some criticisms on the
preparation of candidates he replied :
‘January 7, 1900.

‘I think Mr. —— does not know the facts about other
bodies; they are infinitely more shocking. In the Greek
Church the majority of the priests are quite ignorant of
theology. In the Roman Church the results of the seminary
system [are] that a large proportion are really agnostics or
unbelievers, but cannot practically escape, as they have been
paid for, and have no other opening in life, and dare not go
home to poor parents.

‘No system can be perfect: but ours is at least as good
as any other: better in that it throws all the responsibility
on the individual. Can we do more?

‘People make an ideal of the Roman system. I wish
they knew its real working.’

A curate in any difficulties with his incumbent might be
sure of having his case carefully considered by the Bishop :

‘He deemed it his own proper province to adjust the diffi-
culty, grudging neither time nor trouble to the work of pacifi-
cation. He generally insisted upon drastic measures, avoiding
the compromises by which a weaker man would be tempted
to heal the wound slightly. He made the bishop’s part in a
curate’s licence a much greater reality than it had been before.
He distinctly discouraged a hasty licence. But when once
the curate was licensed, both incumbent and curate were
made to feel that the Bishop was party to their engagement,
and must be consulted before it could be dissolved. This, of
. course, has always been the legal position, but the bishops
have been very reluctant to exercise their powers, and it
needed the courage of Bishop Creighton to refuse permission
to an incumbent to give his curate six months’ notice. But
while ready to uphold the rights of the curate, the Bishop
was equally decided in not allowing him to invade the
province in which the incumbent was responsible. He said
emphatically to the incumbent, “ You are responsible for the
manner in which the services are to be conducted. The
congregation ought not to be distracted by various uses. It
is your duty to give directions and to insist upon their being
followed.”’ +

In the opinion of the public it might seem that the chief
question before the Church in these years was the dispute

? From an article by Canon Whitworth in the Church Quarterly.

268 THE BISHOP AND HIS CLERGY

about ritual. But though this naturally occupied the
serious attention of the Bishop, the regular work and interests
of the diocese were never neglected. Above all, he felt the
need for strengthening the spiritual agencies in London, and
for this the great means was the Bishop of London’s Fund,
started in 1863 by Dr. Tait. He said, ‘I do not think we
sufficiently understand what an absolutely unique problem
London presents. . . . Weare facing conditions and circum-
stances which have never before existed in the history of the
world.’ At one of the annual meetings for the Fund he said
that he would like ‘ to organise expeditions in brakes to show
dwellers in the West End something of the London which
surrounded them. London means a great many different
things to different people, but to the Fund I apprehend
London very much means those endless rows of little houses,
all exactly alike, which go on growing like mushrooms, so
that when you go to a place where you have not been for a
few months, you see an entire change in the whole district.’
‘For the people who came up to London from the country, or
who moved from the centre to the suburbs, there could be
nothing worse than to find themselves in a “ No-Man’s land.”
The constant growth of a ring round London of spiritually
desolate and deserted places would be a great menace; to
prevent this is the work of the Bishop of London’s Fund....
All who live in London must recognise their responsibility
to help in the work.’ He wanted to prevail upon the laity
to relieve the clergy from the toil of constant begging
needed to plant a church in a new district. ‘It is rather hard
for a young clergyman who is filled with the zeal for saving
souls that he should be required to have in addition the
qualifications of a commercial traveller. He has to have a
brazen face when asking for money, a talent for writing
begging letters, and determination enough never to meet any:
body in the street without preferring an appeal. This is not
the sort of thing which should be expected of a clergyman.’

He always tried to win interest for that outer ring of new
suburbs which sprang up with such alarming rapidity on the
west and north. The need of the East End had been realised
but few were aware of the desolation of the far west and of
the north,

PREACHING 269

Like others he felt the attraction of the East End,
Speaking for the East London Church Fund, in 1897, he said :

‘What strikes me is that there is so much more life in
the East End than in the West End, there is none of the re-
spectable dulness which characterises other parts of London.
Eastenders are to a great extent children of nature, they are
frank, free, open, above all responsive. Their interests are
keen, they are animated by a genuine joy in life, and by the
desire to get the most out of it they can.... I am also
struck by the extreme geniality and cheerfulness of the East-
End clergy. ... Nobody can achieve anything by going
about with a long face. There is all the difference in the
world between the man whom you feel you could slap on
the back if you felt so disposed and the man whom you
could not slap on the back in any circumstances whatever ;
and the clergy in the East End are all men whom you can
slap on the back. The work must go on slowly, we cannot
quickly make up arrears in spiritual things. There are many
who say that spiritual agencies are ceasing to influence the
people as much as they did in past times. I do not believe
it in the least. I do not believe that there ever was a time
in the history of England when the general principles of
religion had a stronger hold on the people as a mass . . . to
my mind the Church is the chief power which will mould the
England of the future.’

He delighted in an East End meeting, with its alive
and responsive audience, and loved the crowds of children
who waited for him round his carriage when he came out
from preaching or speaking, and would speak to them and
shake as many little eager outstretched hands as possible.

Very different opinions were held about his preaching.
There were those who would rather hear him than anyone
else, others who thought that it was as a preacher he shone
least. He was not what would be called a popular preacher.
But, as was said of him, ‘he compelled men’s attention by
making them see that he had something to tell them.’ Busi-
ness men especially liked to hear him. His own belief in the
mission of the nation and its intimate connexion with the
religion of the nation never failed to show itself. In these
later years he dwelt much on the prophetic books of the
Bible; many of the texts of his sermons were taken from them,
and he deeply felt their bearing upon modern life. Preaching

270 THE BISHOP AND HIS CLERGY

at the consecration of St. Gabriel’s Church, Willesden, in
1897, he said :

‘A nation must have a duty and a responsibility. Yet
the prophets show us a nation who are constantly setting
aside the higher forms of life, and making a great rejection
of what they know to be their eternal destiny. . . . There is
an appalling similarity between life then and the life of the
English people. We, too, feel the force of the prophet’s
reproof, and we ask “ What can I do in my day and genera-
tion for this people from whom I spring, for this nation
founded on a sense of liberty which it is its mission to pass
on tothe world?” We,too, are on our trial. Isaiah pictures
a civilisation tottering to decay. We must not think that life
was different then from what it is at present. Everything
went on then pretty much as now. There was to be a down-
fall, but it would not be complete; there was to be a restora-
tion, but it could only be found in the right way. There was
God, and God was not to be known except by those who
walked in the right way, distinct and clear through the world.
But from that great broad highway people are always wan-
dering and they have to come back to it.’

He enjoyed preaching at Lincoln’s Inn or the Temple.

To the Master of the Temple —« London House: March 18, 1898.

‘Dear Ainger,—Wearied as I am of preaching, I enjoyed
the opportunity of speaking once in a way to an educated
congregation where I could use the words that came into
my head, and had not to translate them into simple forms.
How beautiful the Temple Church is! I enjoyed hearing a
fine anthem of Pergolesi. Elsewhere I am persecuted with
Stainer, &c.’

The fact that so many religious communities have their
centre in London brought him into close contact with Sisters
and their work; and his relations with them were most
friendly. He was a member of the Committee on Communi-
ties appointed by the Lambeth Conference.

The results of his experience are shown by the following
criticisms on the constitution of a new sisterhood :

‘Generally I think you have given too great power to the
warden, whose office ought not to contain anything that
affects initiative of new work or interference with the execu-
tive, which I would advise you to reserve to the superior.

RELIGIOUS COMMUNITIES 271

‘The community should be self-governing. You invite
a warden to help you on the lines which you have laid down:
there is no need that he should have any power to alter or
direct them. He is your spiritual officer, let him have in-
fluence, not power, within your constitution.

‘But I feel strongly that the office of visitor ought to be
in accordance with ancient precedent. I see some of the
suggestions indicate a jealousy of the visitor. This is the
bad point about sisterhoods. They want to be absolutely
independent, obedient only to their own will. Such a claim
is entirely unworthy. We must all work in obedience and
cannot afford to do without it. But observe, the obedience
is only to your constitution. The office of visitor is merely
that of guardian and interpreter of the statutes. He has no
power of interference. He has merely to pronounce if you
are keeping your own laws. The proposal to depose him if
you do not like him is subversive of all rule. He is your
judge chosen by yourselves: he must be for life, and must
be independent of your will. He must have a veto on change
of the constitution in important matters : for by undertaking
the post he gives a guarantee to the general public of your
object and your methods. You must not use him and then
throw him away when you are started. A bishop is already
visitor of many institutions, he is not likely to interfere unless
there isstrong cause. The fear is of too little rather than too

,
much. ‘July 17, 1900.

‘I think that great ignorance prevails about the office of
visitor. No office is more strictly defined and formal. He is
merely the person to whom recourse is to be made for a
judicial decision as to the meaning of the statutes in case of
difference. His sole duty is to see that the statutes are
observed. No society can exist without such an officer. It
otherwise ends in anarchy.

‘I may say of myself that I have had an increasing
amount of work to do in reference to communities. It is not
too much to say that I stand in intimate connexion with
them all in the diocese. The superiors frequently consult me
about all sorts of matters. This arises from the way in
which I am known to exercise my visitorial office. I think
that I have now established a series of precedents which have
put this point on a regular basis. What communities suffer
from is unauthorised intervention from outside. This can
only be met by immediate reference to the visitor. Commu-
nities now find this a real advantage. My letters this morning
contain two grateful acknowledgments from two superiors

272 THE BISHOP AND HIS CLERGY

of the settlement by me of two awkward disputes. I have
always found it easy to settle matters by accurate reference
to the rule. Without such an authority existing there is no
possibility of orderly government.’

With the St. Andrew’s Deaconess’ House, which trained
deaconesses for work in the London Diocese, his relations
were naturally specially close. The deaconesses dwell on his
fatherly tenderness, and look back to the five visits which he
paid their house as ‘sacred memories.’ They write, ‘To see
him seated, with our little sanctuary as a background, vested
in cope and mitre, and to hear him speak then, suggested a
vision out of the Apocalypse. It was a glory of spiritual and
mental and physical richness of colour that filled the heart
with a sense of completeness, seldom experienced in life as
we know it. Who would have thought (though we knew it)
that he had come in out of the midst of an almost incessant
round of turmoil, and was just going out into the midst of it
again? . . . When he appeared among us in the community
room, after his duties were over, we were very apt to forget the
bishop, and think of the father whom we loved and feared not.’

In 1900 he was much consulted by Mrs. Ruspini with
regard to the rules of a new order of rescue workers, which he
named ‘The Order of Divine Compassion,’ and its members
venerate his memory as their founder. His views about a
community life are shown in the following letter :

‘Fulham Palace: January 26, 1899.

‘Dear Sir,—The object of the Christian endeavour is to
lead a life devoted to God’s service. How the individual can
best do this is a matter which he has to settle with God’s
help. Community life is one mode of settling the question
by the acceptance of a definite rule. But anyone who
accepts it must accept it without the smallest doubt that it is
the best thing for him.

‘It cannot be said that obedience to another is in itself
desirable. But it is obvious that it is necessary for a
community.

‘The object of entering a community is to simplify life by
accepting limitations. But you must be sure that these
limitations are such as will enable you to work better—i.e.
more freely, more at your ease, because you have others to
settle many things for you.

LEGAL BUSINESS 273

‘If you think that you would find this irksome, that it is
not the way in which you could work best, then you ought
not to decide to undertake the obligation.’

A specially troublesome part of his work was connected
with the supervision of the Continental chaplaincies; all those
in Northern Europe are under the bishop of London as
diocesan. He wasassisted in this work by Bishop Wilkinson
as suffragan, but difficulties of all kinds were constantly
referred to him, and caused much correspondence.

He was always a peacemaker, and much of his time and
thought was given to composing differences and settling
questions which, except for his intervention, might have had
to come before a court of law. His legal secretary, Mr. Harry
Lee, writes :

‘His singularly lucid grasp of all business matters, and
the ease with which he mastered legal details, often of
a most complex kind, was, in one who had not in the
strict sense of the word had a legal training, most striking.
He established a kind of tribunal in the diocese in which he
sat as judge, assisted sometimes by his chancellor, for the
purpose of deciding disputes on all kinds of matters between
the clergy and others of the diocese. These hearings were
conducted on the strict lines of the law courts, the parties
represented by solicitor and counsel, witnesses called, and
evidence taken in the most formal fashion, and there is not
the least doubt that in many cases disputes of a painful
character were in this way judicially and_ satisfactorily
settled without the scandal of publication in the law courts or
‘newspapers, where they must otherwise have drifted; of
course the hearing was in each case preceded by a formal
submission of both parties to the Bishop’s decision, and an
undertaking given that the matter should not be re-opened in
the law courts. Apart from cases where legal forms were
involved, one could not fail to be struck by the enormous
fund of common sense and world-wisdom which the Bishop
brought to bear upon the ordinary daily matters that were
referred to him for decision.’

In 1899 he was called upon to judge a long-standing dis-
pute between the pastor and the consistory of the French
Reformed Church in London. This church had been founded
in 1550, and the Bishop of London had certain powers over
it as visitor, The points in question involved careful

VOL, IL T

274 THE BISHOP AND HIS CLERGY

consideration of the past history of the church, into the details
of which the Bishop entered with the greatest care and patience.

Probably nothing was so exhausting both to mind and
heart as the number of decisions which he had to give every
day, sometimes on trivial matters, often on subjects of far-
reaching importance to individuals and to the Church. His
daily letters would bring before him the complaints of
discontented parishioners, quarrels between clergy, between
incumbents and curates, questions concerning promotions, the
exchange of livings, the boundaries of parishes, criticisms
from members of congregations on the sermons heard or the
hymns sung in the service, marriage questions, matters
concerning education, sisterhoods, fees; then there would
come a letter from a working-man asking him to explain the
first chapter of Genesis. It seemed often as if his work were
concerned with the infinitely little, as if he came in contact
only with the troublesome and the busybodies, so that
neither time nor energy was left to consider really great ques-
tions, or to hearten those who were doing the real work of
the diocese. Many of the best of his clergy felt that
they could help him most by keeping out of his way, and
avoiding writing to him or coming to see him. The follow-
ing letters show how he dealt with some of the questions
which were brought before him; but most difficulties were
settled at interviews :

Memorandum on a complaint sent hira that persons had been refused Com-

munion in a certain church, because they would not make their confession
previously.
‘Fulham: March 2, 1897.

‘I enclose a rescript which you may send Mr. for
transmission to the proper source.

‘The grounds on which a clergyman may refuse Holy
Communion to a parishioner are laid down in the rubric
before the Communion Office. These grounds in each case
require public notoriety of the offence for which the refusal
is made.

‘It is not in a clergyman’s power to use his duty of ad-
ministering the Holy Communion as a means of enforcing
his own ideas of ecclesiastical discipline. He may advise
such form of preparation as he thinks best ; he can enforce
none; the exact method of preparation is left by the Church
of England to the individual conscience.

CLERICAL PROBLEMS 275

‘Refusal of Holy Communion is a judicial decision pro-
nounced on the character of the person to whom it is refused.
In each case the clergyman is bound to inform the Ordinary,
who is the real judge. The power of the individual clergy-
man is merely suspensory, pending a proper decision.

‘Any form of excommunication is a charge that the
person excommunicated is a “notorious evil-liver.” Such a
charge can be brought before the cognisance of a civil court:
if it cannot be fully proved, it is a libel.’

In answer to a question about the re-marriage of divorced persons.
‘Fulham Palace: November 23, 1897.

‘The advice which I always give in the case of re-marriage
of a divorced person is this. Inasmuch as it is legal, in the
case of the innocent person the Church leaves it to his or her
conscience to decide. But the Church Service is drawn up
for normal and not for abnormal cases. It is undesirable to
use it in abnormal cases, to which it does not strictly apply.
The civil contract should suffice.

‘I admit that in this case the re-marriage of the guilty
husband leaves the wife practically a widow. You might
hold this view and regard her as such. But this would not
be known generally, and all such marriages in church create
comment.

‘I can only lay down certain general principles—and leave
the decision to your discretion with a fuller knowledge of
the circumstances.’

To Dr. Wilkinson (Assistant Bishop in Northern and Central Europe),
about the relations of Anglicans with other Christian communities on the
Continent. )

‘ January 23, 1897.

‘My dear Bishop,—I will tell you briefly my views on the
question you ask, which I admit is difficult without definite
principles of interpretation.

‘The Prayer Book and its services represent—they could
not do otherwise—the normal procedure of the Church to-
wards its own children. They set forth the ecclesiastical
course of the Christian life. They do not contemplate the
existence of nonconformists at home, or of other religious
bodies abroad.

‘ The application of them in these cases is difficult. There
are two main classes to be considered :

‘(1) Those brought up as nonconformists, who wish to
join the Church, but do not see the necessity for Confirma-
tion.

; ae

276 THE BISHOP AND HIS CLERGY

‘(2) Those who for a time wish to use the Church
Services without any present intention of joining her.

‘Your question, I take it, concerns this latter class.

‘The decision will depend on the place we make in
ecclesiastical organisation for Christian courtesy. How
ought we to recognise this undoubted virtue? Is it not the
point from which we ought to start in working for union?
It seems to me that our relations to the Eastern and the
Western Church are different owing to their different atti-
tudes on this point. The Roman Church is discourteous :
the Greek Church is courteous. We are freer and broader
than either, and can go further. An Anglican wishes to
communicate, without ceasing to be an Anglican, with either
East or West. He sees no insuperable difficulties in the way.
He practically asks that the settlement of his own ecclesiasti-
cal position be left to himself, but that it be courteously
recognised by other bodies, without any departure on their
side from their own basis. This is the first step towards
reunion. Now are we to ask and not give? We have
never declared against Lutherans and Presbyterians. Their
system differs from ours, and we do not agree with it. But if
a Lutheran or a Presbyterian is in a position where he can
only attend our services, where he does so and where he
wishes to be a communicant, I am in favour of admitting
him as a matter of courtesy. We are not responsible for him,
but we may allow him to use our services on his own
responsibility. This does not affect our discipline to our own
people—and does not come under the Rubric at all. It
is an exceptional case which altered circumstances have
created.

‘I may say that this was the opinion of the late Arch-
bishop,' with whom I talked on this subject. I should be
very glad if you could take the same view, as I believe that
the establishment of this principle would be a real help in
our dealings with other Communions,

On the same subject
* May 20, 1899.

‘It is a question of Christian courtesy, and has to be
decided by consideration of the position of the Church of
England. We are not a proselytising body: we do not
claim that salvation is only possible within our system. We
have our system and our discipline for our own people. The
question is, Do we stand aloof from all others? This cannot

1 Dr. Benson,

CLERICAL PROBLEMS 277

be settled by individual priests. It is a matter for the
bishops. It has been frequently discussed by them. I have
heard the opinion of Archbishop Benson and of the present
Archbishop. They agreed—and so do I—that the Church of
England may allow its services to be used by members of
other communions at their own responsibility, as a matter of
Christian courtesy, not of right. There is no principle in-
volved in this, except the principle of Christian charity. Let
the Church of Rome disregard this in the supposed interest
of its own organisation; but we will not be so foolish or so
narrow as to follow their example. The clergy have no
responsibility in the matter. Members of other Communions
ask if they may use their ministrations, and use their altars ;
my answer is yes, they may do so at their own responsibility :
you simply lend them your services. I take the responsibility
of admittingthem. This is a matter outside your discretion :
it is my business, not yours. I give the same directions in
England and outside England. It is not the function of the
individual priest to define the position of the Church of
England ; it is the function of the Bishop.’

In answer to a request for permission to communicate a chronic sick person
from the Altar on Sundays.
‘Fulham Palace: June 3, 1897.
‘If it is the case that the lady you mention desires it, and
if you undertake to carry the elements to her, regarding her
house as a portion of the church for that purpose, I think
you might meet her wishes without any impropriety.
‘I personally dislike these exceptional demands, but there
is very early authority for this particular proceeding.’

To the Rev. T. Field, Warden of Radley College (in answer to a
letter asking how boys from public schools who went up to London to work in
the hospitals or in the Civil Service could be brought into closer touch with
the clergy.)

‘Fulham Palace: January 28, 1898.

‘Dear Mr. Field,—I feel the importance of the subject on
which you write. It has come before me in a way which will
strike schoolmasters as curious—a complaint, or rather an
expression of a difficulty felt by many at the West End, at
the impossibility of getting into touch with the boys of parents
living in their parish. They tell me that school makes a
hopeless break; they get the girls at Confirmation, but the
increased importance given to Confirmations at schools has
cut the boys more completely from them. I only mention
this fact because I think schoolmasters should know how they
have increased their responsibilities.

278 THE BISHOP AND HIS CLERGY

‘As regards boys coming from school direct to London,
I scarcely know what are their chief pursuits. You mean
those who do not live at home but follow some profession.
In the medical schools there is a good deal going on, directed
by chaplains and managed by the men themselves. A short
time ago I addressed a guild at St. Mary’s Hospital, which
numbered some eighty members, and was supported by the
doctors. There is a Guild among the doctors themselves,
the guild of St. Luke, which holds an annual service at
St. Paul’s Cathedral.

‘Quite recently the Inns of Court have established a
mission in Soho—which is a healthy sign of another pro-
fession. The men connected with the Eton Mission, the
Marlborough Mission and others are natural people to whom
to refer young men. They can go to look up their old school
institutions quite naturally. The Oxford House and the
Cambridge Mission, in Southwark, have many men connected
with them who: would be sympathetic. Such men as Gore,
and the Bishop of Stepney, Scott Holland, and others are in
touch with young men.

About evening Communions
* Fulham Palace: February 14, 1898.

‘I am not responsible for several opinions which have
been put into my mouth in an unauthorised way. But if you
will take “deplorable” in the sense of “to be deplored,” it
would represent my opinion about evening Communions.

‘ The history of Holy Communion in the Early Church is
rather obscure, as it is connected with the Agape, or an
appointed evening meal. The Epistle to the Corinthians
shows the disorders which arose in consequence. At the end
of the first century, the Agafe was separated from the Com-
munion, which was then transferred to the early morning.
This prevailed universally all over Christendom till about
fifty years ago, when evening Communion was introduced by
Dr. Hook.

‘I think this is to be deplored, because it made another
question on which Christians can differ; and I for one regard
the introduction of a point of difference as the saddest thing
of all.’

In answer to a question as to his motives in giving a licence to the Rev. Stewart

Headlam.
‘Fulham Palace: February 16, 1898.

‘My dear Sir,—In giving a licence to the Rev. Stewart
Headlam I had nothing before me except his present suit-

CLERICAL PROBLEMS 279

ability. It did not seem to me that his opinions on matters
social and political were a bar to his preaching.

‘ As to the question which you ask me, the drama is a very
ancient form of art. Like other forms of art, it has changed
at different times. There are two points to be considered at
present : (1) the nature of the plays ; (2) the conditions of the
theatrical profession. There is a further point. If people
wish to see popular amusements put on a right basis, ought
they not to sympathise with, and help, efforts to amend the
stage?

cs think that on these points everyone is responsible for
forming his own opinion, and acting wisely and rightly upon
the sense of his responsibilities.

‘I might refer you to a sermon of Bishop Lightfoot in
a volume called The Use and Abuse of the World,

To the Rev. J. F. Stern, minister of the East London Synagogue,
who had written to him to ask him to use his influence to prevent the
introduction of the new certificate of the Order of Foresters, because its
Christian character was opposed to the undenominational character of th
Order, and not agreeable to the Jewish members.

‘London House: April 30, 1898.

‘My dear Sir,—I agree with you in thinking that any
form of certificate issued by the Foresters should be, if
possible, free from any objection on sectarian grounds. But,
while admitting the principle, it is hard to carry it into effect,
if all reference to the religious forms in which ideas have been
expressed in art is to be excluded. Art must have certain
forms; and the forms must be dictated by general intelligi-
' bility. It is difficult to invent allegories which are intelligible
in themselves. If they are invented, they are open to
criticism at once. Yet no onecan prescribe for another what
conscientious scruples he may entertain. For my own part,
my opinion would be this. Any artistic representation which
rested on the claims of Christ would be distinctly Christian,
and therefore to be avoided for general purposes. But
references to particular forms in which moral truths, common
to all, were expressed in Christ’s teaching, simply adopt
allegorical modes of expression which are familiar to Christians
and non-Christians alike. Christians may take them with any
additional sanction which they choose to attach to them ;
non-Christians may take them as current expressions of truths
which they themselves hold for their own merits.

‘The alternatives are: (1) allegories, which I have
already said are difficult to make intelligible ; (2) historical

280 THE BISHOP AND HIS CLERGY

representations, which are still more difficult ; (3) references
to literature, e.g. scenes from Shakespeare, which would go still
further afield.

‘You will see that I am discussing the matter from the
point of possibility for artistic expression. I think that those
who do not accept Christianity might still fairly take it as the
only possible vehicle for the artistic representation of simple
moral truths, without thereby having any strain on their
conscience,’

* London House: May 5, 1898.

‘Dear Sir,—In my letter to you I merely considered the
new card of the Foresters in itself. The question of the sub-
stitution of it for one which is already in existence and raises
no objections is another. dt is always better in such a
matter to make no change unless it is generally acceptable.’

To a clergyman who had asked his advice about attending a gathering to welcome
a nonconformist minister to his new work.
‘Fulham Palace: June 19, 1898.

‘You have asked me a question which it is hard to answer
satisfactorily. For one’s own guidance, one has to consider—
not what one’s action means to oneself, but how it will be
interpreted by others; one has to strike a balance of the
possible good and harm it may do; and further one has to
remember that it is impossible to distinguish oneself personally
from oneself officially.

‘The answer which I would give would be that, if the
welcome given to the new minister was social in its nature, and
was held in a public hall, you would gladly attend to greet a
neighbour ; but if it was of the nature of a religious service
held in the chapel, your presence would be liabie to miscon-
struction.

‘There is a common ground on which we can all meet;
but it must be neutral. Well-meant attempts to jumble us
all up only lead to remonstrances, which do more to create
ill-feeling than the premature display of a conciliatory temper
creates good-feeling. If you went to a Presbyterian chapel,
think of the letters which would be written in the newspapers.’

About the use of unfermented wine in the Holy Communion.
‘Fulham Palace: July 16, 1898.

‘The only point on which I feel it necessary to make any
remark is on the administration of the Holy Communion in
unfermented wine to some tee-totalers. I know the demand
and I respect their scruples. But you will observe that the

whole history of the Roman Church has been that of accom-

CLERICAL PROBLEMS 281

modation to popular demand—leading to an obscuring of
truth in the long run. To change the elements which our
Lord used is a very serious matter. It is an attempt to be
better and wiser than He was. If once we depart from the
plain words of Scripture, where are we?
‘I need not go on to point out that two chalices destroy
the unity symbolised by the Sacrament. It is the excessive
demand of the scruples of good men which have always been
dangerous.’
‘Fulham Palace: July 21, 1898.

‘I have the greatest admiration for the ingenuity of the
human mind. It is perfectly possible to prove anything we
wish to prove. That is why it is necessary not only to
specify the words of Scripture, but the method of their inter-
pretation, which is the custom of the Church.

‘Now the rubric says “Bread and Wine” are to be
placed on the “Table.” It cannot be seriously urged that
these words mean “unfermented wine.” That is a phrase
which has been invented recently for this purpose. The pro-
ducts of the vine are wine and vinegar. You say, “I have
satisfied myself that the unfermented wine was the real juice
of the grape.” I should be interested to know if you had
submitted it to chemical analysis by an impartial expert.
The only case I ever heard of yielded on analysis xo grape
juice, a good deal of gooseberry, some other elements which
I have forgotten, and a good deal of alcohol.

‘But the important point involved is the danger of
making two kinds of communicants, of recognising first and
second class Christians, of destroying the Sacrament of unity,
_of destroying also the meaning of the symbolism of the
Sacrament itself. For Bread and Wine together represent
man’s nature; the bread is his physical ordinary nature; the
wine his emotional and passionate nature. The latter can
never be free from an element of danger: and the wine ex-
presses that most necessary truth.

‘I could add many considerations of the same kind. The
Church is desirous of keeping to the facts of the institution,
of doing what our Lord did. It cannot do otherwise than
recognise bread and wine as the material of the Sacrament.
The wine may be diluted with water, for it was used diluted ;
and “the cup” differed from the bottle or jar because its
contents were diluted. This dilution may be to any degree
compatible with the preservation of wine as the material.

‘You will see that all our present difficulties arise from
the pressure of excellent people to have their own views

282 THE BISHOP AND HIS CLERGY

satisfied. The result of everybody straining every point to
gratify everyone else is to produce confusion. I can say no
else.’

To Mr. W. G. Finch, who wrote asking whether in the cause of reunion,
the Bishop would allow an interchange of pulpits in his diocese.
‘ September 30, 1898.
My dear Sir,—The proposal for an interchange of pulpits
seems to me to be a step towards greater confusion. It is as
if we proposed to be “ At Home” in one another’s houses, as
a sign of neighbourly feeling.’

About the use of the wafer in Holy Communion.
, ‘Fulham Palace: December 6, 1898.

‘I make no order; but my personal opinion is that the
wafer destroys the symbolism of the Sacrament, which is
that we are all members of one body, portions of one loaf;
els adptos, as St. Paul puts it. This is put prominently
forward by the Eastern Church, where the cutting of the loaf
is an initial ceremony, and each slice commemorates some
part of the Church. To obliterate this poetry by a substitu-
tion of the mechanical and outward conception of the
Western Church, founded on mere convenience, seems to me
avery great mistake.’

In answer to a request from a clergyman for advice how to deal with some non-
conformists who had attached themselves to his congregation.
‘Fulham Palace: January 24, 1899.

‘The question that you ask presents difficulties, and
I have always tried to meet them on as broad a line as pos-
sible. We must recognise that the rubric at the end of the
Confirmation Service deals with the normal case of a baptized
member of the Church of England. When members of other
bodies attend our services and are gradually drawn towards
them, they are not unnaturally unwilling to be confirmed,
because they have already passed through a similar service,
and shrink from anything which might seem to cast a slur
upon their spiritual past, and to separate them from their
friends.

‘I think that in such cases they may be regarded as fit
for Confirmation in spiritual knowledge, and may therefore be
admitted to Communion. But I think you should from time
to time point out to them that their position is irregular and
yours also, and you should ask them to remove this irregu-
larity by recognising the advantages to be obtained by a full
acceptance of the system of the Church, and by a loyal

CLERICAL PROBLEMS 283

membership of it. I have always found that this advice
prevails in a little time.’

The clergyman to whom this letter was sent writes, ‘ Its
contents have won several nonconformists for Confirmation,’

In answer to a proposal to discuss preaching at the Diocesan Conference.

To the Rev. Canon Ainger (Master of the Temple)
‘London House: March 15, 1899.

‘Dear Ainger,—Nash has sent me your letter. I think the
subject of sermons is a very desirable one to bring before the
attention of the clergy. Procedure by resolution doubtless
seems absurd, but it is our rule.

‘A resolution framed “ That more attention ought to be
paid to preaching, especially in the direction of, &c.” would
not be merely a truism. It would indicate that a revival of
interest was a necessary step, and would be a practical
recommendation. You might treat it as lightly as possible ;
but the decay of preaching and the need of its reinstalment
as a conscious object of pursuit seems to me to raise a ques-
tion.

‘Many hold that parochial activity and slipshod sermons is
the right thing.’

To a clergyman who asked whether there was any objection to his speaking at
a temperance meeting to be held in a nonconformist chapel

‘Fulham Palace : December 16, 1899.

‘It always seems to me that a temperance meeting is a
temperance meeting wherever it is held. If a noncon-
formist chapel is lent for the purpose, I do not see that that
' affects the matter. But a great many people seem to think
that it does. I am often in receipt of letters protesting that
some London clergyman has been in a nonconformist
chapel. I inquire, and find that it was at some general meet-
ing, frequently for temperance, and I answer that he may
go to any meeting that he likes.

‘You will be able to decide for yourself if your presence
is likely to give offence to your own people,’

CHAPTER IX
RITUAL DIFFICULTIES

WHEN Dr. Creighton first came to London there was some
uncertainty about his views on ritual questions. It was
known that he wore a cope and mitre, and in January 1897,
five Evangelical clergy had signed a petition to him, asking
him not to introduce the use of the mitre in London. But,
in London as in Peterborough, he wore cope and mitre in his
Cathedral on great occasions, though he was careful not to
do so elsewhere in places where it might give offence. At
one of his first Confirmations, the parish priest wrote to his
chaplain asking whether he would confirm in cope and mitre.
The chaplain was instructed to answer that the Bishop never
brought a mitre to a Confirmation, but would wear one if
it were provided, and this remained his practice.

To a correspondent who had asked him certain questions
as to the use of a cope he wrote:

‘Fulham Palace: October 18, 1898.

‘A cope is not a distinctly episcopal dress; it is not even
clerical, but may be worn by choirmen. The position of the
matter in the Church of England is this: the Rubric of the
First Prayer Book of Edward VI. prescribed a cope for Holy
Communion and fora bishop at all times. The advertise-
ments of Queen Elizabeth and the canon of 1603 prescribed
it for cathedral and collegiate churches. The question is,
did they exclude it from other places? And what was the
effect of re-enacting the Rubric of the First Prayer Book of
Edward VI. at the revision in 1662? I prefer to deal with
such matters on the ground of common sense.’

‘Fulham Palace: October 22, 1898.

‘, .. Acope is simply an ornamental dress; its original
name was pluviale—i.e. a mackintosh. It is simply an eccle-
siastical cloak. It is not a distinctly eucharistic vestment.

1897 CHURCH OPINIONS 285

It has no significance in itself. At present my work is to
cut down ceremonies which go beyond the doctrines of the
Church of England, and tend to put a meaning in her ser-
vices which they have not. To do this wisely I must draw
a line of distinction between things which cannot be, and
things which are, matters of opinion. A cope is a matter of
indifference, and I do not wish to disturb a congregation on
this point.’

His taste led him to like a dignified service, but he could
not bear anything fussy or elaborate. On first coming to
London, he was twice unexpectedly censed at a service.
When a member of Parliament wrote to remonstrate with
him for submitting to such a thing, he answered :

‘I visit a great number of churches in the course of the
year, and I do not undertake to regulate the details of the
service beforehand, It has been my habit to take it as
arranged by the incumbent. I did not expect when I went
to that the ceremonial would be what it was. But
I could not well interfere with the conduct of the service
when it had begun. I perceive from your letter and inquiry
that I must guard in the future against the possibility of my
presence at such ceremonial being construed into my sanction
of it,’

Again on the same subject he wrote: ‘ Frankly I disliked
it, and thought that it would never do in England on esthetic
grounds. The Italian waves his censer in a nice slovenly
way which is all right; but the pomp and self-consciousness
’ of the English acolyte seemed to me artistically offensive.
The Englishman is no good for that purpose. He takes
himself too seriously whatever he does.’

It is probable that he was expected to be more in sym-
pathy with the extreme High Church party than proved to
be the case. The real point at issue between him and them
was that he thought that in their zeal for what they called
the Catholic Church, they lost sight of the real meaning of
the Church of England. He believed that the Catholic
Church must consist of national churches each with their
different characteristics, but that these external differences
need not stand in the way of spiritual union. The way
in which the Catholic Church had become a sort of catch-
word was distasteful to him, and he said, half in irony, half

236 RITUAL DIFFICULTIES 1897

in chaff, one day to an ardent High Church friend, ‘The
Catholic Church must go into the waste-paper basket.’
To some it seemed ‘that he overdid the appeal which
he felt so deeply to the great English tradition,’ and a remark
once made by him when speaking at a public meeting
about disestablishment, that ‘he was an Englishman first
and a Churchman afterwards,’’ was misunderstood and gave
some offence. The religious life of the nation, the belief
of England in its mission: these were of paramount impor-
tance to him. Preaching at Willesden in October 1897, he
said: ‘ The knowledge of God and of God’s way has to lie at
the very foundation of our national life. In walking in God’s
way lies not only the safety of the individual soul, but the
very existence of a nation. All our efforts must rest upon
that foundation.’ He was conscious of the difference between
his point of view and that of the extreme High Church party.
‘They do not care for the Church of England,’ he would say.
To him ‘the great note of the Church of England’ was ‘to
teach the people of this country the Catholic faith with the
directness and simplicity with which the faith was taught in
primitive times.” It was ‘a Church fitted for free men,
training them in knowledge and reverence alike :’* a Church
resting on an appeal to sound learning. His great object
was to get men to see its meaning and its possibilities.
He knew enough about London to be prepared to find
there the widest possible divergence in the method of con-
ducting the services of the Church. One who knows London
well says : ‘ He found the diocese in chaos. Temple worked
like a horse himself and he let everyone else work in the way
they liked. Every church had its own type of service ;’ and
another says, ‘ Dr. Temple knew that there were extreme men
in the diocese who would not accept his ruling in matters of
ritual, and he probably thought it better not to accentuate
‘their resistance by the promulgation of precise rules. Some
of these clergy were doing on lines of their own a great work,
and Dr. Temple was unwilling to hamper that work by con-
troversy about non-essentials.’ Dr. Creighton felt that the

1 Cf. pp. 82-3 as to what he meant by this.
? London Visitation Charge, Zhe Church and the Nation, 316.
* Presidential Address, London Church Congress.

1897 PRINCIPLES OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND 287

let-alone policy had gone on too long, and every day he
became more convinced that the difficulties of the situa-
tion largely came because extreme practices had been allowed
to grow up and take root unchecked. He felt that these
excessive divergencies must be restrained, but he had no
wish to narrow the Church of England. Speaking in 1897
to his first diocesan conference, he said:

‘I must tell you frankly that I rejoice in the breadth and
width of the Church of England as it is; I recognise the
enormous advantages which every different school of thought
contributes towards the general spread of those eternal prin-
ciples of truth in which we are all interested . . . it is quite
clear that no one set of opinions, no one form of divine
service, no one particular way of presenting religious ideas,
will universally prevail. ... 1 think it my duty, as Bishop
of this diocese to show my sympathy with all forms of
service and all forms of religious zeal, which are loyally in
accordance with the principles of the Church of England.’

When he learnt more of the confusion which prevailed,
he tried as usual to go to the root of the matter to discover
what were the definite principles which must be accepted by
all who claimed to belong to the Church of England. He
said: ‘It is necessary that there should be a recognised
type of the Anglican services, so that worshippers may not
be confused by the multiplicity of variations. We must have
a clear understanding about the limits of permissible varia-
tion.’ }

But the task which he had before him was from the first
complicated by interference from outside. The Bishop’s hope
was to deal with his clergy individually by fatherly advice
and persuasion, to gain their confidence and to convince
them of the necessity of some sacrifices being made for the
good of the whole Church. The noisy and offensive agitation
organised by Mr. Kensit and his allies, and the ultra-Protes-
tant and Erastian attack led by Sir William Harcourt in
the newspapers, disconcerted his efforts. The clergy who
might have yielded to their Bishop’s exhortations felt it
difficult, if not impossible, to do so when their submission

' Address to the Ruridecanal Conferences, 1898. Zhe Church and the
Nation, 268.

288 RITUAL DIFFICULTIES 1898

might be interpreted to mean obedience to agitation. Every-
thing tended to complicate the problem. The Bishop was
not allowed much time to study it quietly, or to get
to know his diocese, before the attention of the public was
attracted by Mr. Kensit’s interference with the services at
St. Ethelburga’s, Bishopsgate. The incumbent of this church
had been allowed by Dr. Temple to be non-resident for
many years, and the curate in charge, Mr. Phillips, had
introduced services of an extreme type, much appreciated by
the congregation. Towards the end of 1897 the Bishop had
had communications with Mr. Phillips, and in obedience to
his desire, the practice of reservation of the Blessed Sacra-
ment was discontinued. The other services remained as
before, and Mr. Kensit chose this church for a special attack.
He qualified as a parishioner by taking rooms in the neigh-
bourhood, and, after interrupting the services with irreverent
expressions and unseemly behaviour, he sent an account of
them to the Bishop, calling upon him for immediate inter-
ference, and saying that he and his party intended to com-
municate there on the following Sunday, January 16, 1898,
when he hoped that the Communion would be duly ad-
ministered by either the Bishop or the Archdeacon of
London. He received the following reply :

‘Dear Sir,—I have no reason for supposing that you will
find any hindrance to receiving the Holy Communion at
St. Ethelburga’s. But my advice to you is to attend a church
in which the services suit you rather than a church in which
they do not suit you.

This letter, which Mr. Kensit immediately sent to the
press, was much criticised, but it expressed a serious conviction.
The Bishop had no wish to enforce rigid conformity to one
type of service, and in a large town where there are many
churches, it seemed to him but common sense for a man to
refrain from deliberately seeking out a church where the
services were conducted in a way of which he disapproved.
Meanwhile Mr. Phillips said that he could not in conscience
communicate Mr. Kensit. After an interview at which the
Bishop pointed out to him that the rubrics gave him no
legitimate ground for such a refusal, he said that he would
obey a distinct command from the Bishop. This command

1898 ST. ETHELBURGA’S 289

was given, but afterwards Mr. Phillips wrote saying that
he could not bring himself to obey it. The Bishop then
sent his chaplain to conduct the services at St. Ethelburga’s
on the following Sunday. Letters from clergy and laity in
the diocese of London and elsewhere poured in upon him,
remonstrating with him for the line that he had taken. Mr.
Phillips resigned, and Dr. Cobb, then secretary of the English
Church Union, undertook the care of St. Ethelburga’s,

Dr. Cobb writes of the situation:

‘Where both sides had put themselves in the wrong, it
was not easy for the Bishop to hold the scales evenly. What
struck me most about him in the many interviews I was
privileged to have, was the extraordinary solidity of his
judgment, and his indifference to criticisms. His own mind
was perfectly clear as to what the mind of the Church of
England was, and what the then distress required. He
corrected both parties with something of the serene strength
of an impersonal fate, and of course incurred the hostility of
both. Yet no man was less open to the charge of being a
Gallio. His famous piece of advice to the protesters to go
to some church where they could feel more at home was the
advice of the statesman and received a prophet’s reward.
What rendered him a sphinx to zealots was the perfect
balance of his mind, reflecting as it did the studied moderation
of the Church of England. Not understanding this, the one
party accused him of ignorance of what Catholicism involved,
his only fault really being that he knew only too well; while
the other party insisted, in language more forcible than
proper, that he was playing into the hands of Rome. In the
midst of the turmoil he was the still, strong man who went
his own way because he knew it to be the right way, no man
making him afraid.

‘I can never be too grateful for the fatherly kindness he
showed me all through the weary months of struggle. At
first he seemed doubtful whether. I might not emulate the
prowess of those who had by their rashness brought the
Protestant hornet nest about their ears. But once satisfied
on that point, he gave me his complete trust. He approved
the general lines of conduct of what was a sort of war, and
for the rest gave me a perfectly free hand. When advice was
wanted he gave it freely, and it was always advice which
allowed for all the pertinent facts. The swiftness, too, with
which he saw all the salient points, and then came toa

VOL, II. U

290 RITUAL DIFFICULTIES 1898

decision, was remarkable. The reason was that he had a
clear view of what was to be aimed at, viz. a fundamental
union of all Christians on the basis of allegiance to their Lord,
with the greatest possible latitude in the expression of
spiritual life.’

Mr. Kensit, of course, was not satisfied with Dr. Cobb, and
continued his exhortations to the Bishop to do his duty, and
his threats of interference. The parishioners of St. Ethel-
burga’s wrote deploring the loss of the curate, whose ministra-
tions they had much valued. There were loud expressions
of indignation in the press, angry remonstrances in private
at Mr. Kensit’s methods, and threats of a large secession to
Rome if he were not suppressed, accompanied by the usual
outcry that something must be done. The Bishop continued
his efforts to take a calm view of the situation, and to act
with a view to future peace, rather than with an eye only to
the present emergency. He wrote ‘We are all agreed in
regretting that there should be such a person as Mr. Kensit ;
but the question how best to deal with him is a purely
practical one.’

His difficulty in dealing severely with Mr. Kensit’s conduct
at St. Ethelburga’s had been that he was not clear whether
the law against brawling in church applied to ‘interruption
of services not recognised by the religious body concerned.’
‘It is not a question of the mode in which the Communion
Service is performed which will raise any difficulty, but of
unauthorised additions and of other services which have been
introduced without authority. Much as I desire to keep the
peace, it is difficult to avoid this issue ;’ and again: ‘ Mr.
Kensit on examination would accept the phraseology of the
Prayer Book respecting the Sacraments, and would say that
his objection was to adjuncts to the service not prescribed in
the Prayer Book. ... The wise thing to do is to put him
steadily in the wrong. When Dr. Cobb took charge, and dis-
continued such practices as the Bishop judged decidedly illegal
at St. Ethelburga’s, the Bishop could support him in a way in
which he had not felt able to support Mr. Phillips. Still
Mr. Kensit continued to pelt him ‘ with representations against
Dr. Cobb’s method of celebrating.’ He had begun by trying
to treat Mr. Kensit as a reasonable man, but early in 1898

1898 INTERRUPTED SERVICES 291

was obliged to tell his chaplain to say that, as Mr. Kensit
published his private letters to him, he could hold no further
communication with him. Finally he answered the continued
complaints of Mr. Kensit and his two allies:
* March 2, 1898.

‘Gentlemen,—In answer to your communication of the
25th ult., I have to say that it is impossible for me to regulate
the minute details of public worship in all the churches in
this diocese; and it would be undesirable for me to attempt
to do so. Something must always be left to the discretion of
the officiating minister and to the wishes of the congregation.

‘The services as now conducted at St. Ethelburga’s are
those prescribed in the Book of Common Prayer. If in some
points of detail they are not entirely in accordance with your
personal preference, I can only repeat the advice which I
originally gave, that you should seek some neighbouring
church where you may be better satisfied.

‘I would remind you that there is a congregation at
St. Ethelburga’s whose wishes deserve my consideration as
much as yours. I am_ not prepared to interfere with Dr.
Cobb’s discretion in the conduct of the services,’

Another violent interruption of a service, this time at
St. Cuthbert’s, Philbeach Gardens, by Mr. Kensit and his
friends, on Good Friday, increased the irritation on both sides,
especially as the service disturbed was an unauthorised one.
The Bishop was besieged with letters in which persons of the
most opposite opinions in turn wrote to tell him, that they
knew that thousands felt as they did, and that the Church was
on the verge of ruin, and could only be saved by their par-
ticular advice being followed. There were not only remon-
strances from the foolish and the fanatics, but from thoughtful
lawyers and other serious men, scandalised at the open de-
fiance of order and decency.

To one who wished to take steps to vindicate him from
the attacks made on him, the Bishop answered :

‘ February 4, 1898.
‘My dear Sir,—I am obliged to you for your letter and
its offer. But I never wish to defend myself—and I prefer
not to be defended. Very few people can see the justice of
any cause, they can only judge from their own prejudices, |
have another very strong reason. I am a father to all my
U2

292 RITUAL DIFFICULTIES 1898

clergy. It is my duty to bear the burden of their mistakes.
I never make public what passed between them and me.’

To one of his clergy who wrote to assure him of his loyalty
and devotion he answered ‘London House: May 25, 1898.

‘Thank you for your letter. It does one good to be
cheered up sometimes. Please do not suppose that I have
any grievance against the clergy : I only recognise their foible
of excessive individualism. The difficulties of .the clergy in
this diocese are enormous: isolation, congregationalism, little
intercourse with one another or the Bishop, little sense of the
largeness of the Church as a whole, or of the end of its
working. We must face our dangers by recognising their
existence.’

Speaking to his diocesan conference on April 28, he
explained what he was trying to do. |

‘My duty is to deal with my clergy straightforwardly and
frankly, to deal with them in the spirit of kindliness and in
the spirit of Christian love, to deal with them by means of
arguments, and not by attempting to coerce them or to bring
pressure upon them to go in directions which are contrary
to their own consciences. It is my duty to try to bring them
all together equally into agreement upon the great funda-
mental points of our Christian practice, because in matters of
Christian faith, of course, we are not divided. We are divided
simply and solely upon matters whose importance—and
I admit they are of importance—is very frequently overstated
and over-estimated. It is my duty, a duty which I have
constantly before me, and at no time more than at present, to
try by personal persuasion and personal influence, by talking
and conference with those who seem to be divided, to bring
all together into an understanding at least of one another’s
position, that we may discover exactly what are the points
upon which we differ; for until we have discovered those, any
attempt at agreement is obviously quite impossible.’

To his conference he said no more about ritual troubles,
but a few days afterwards he received at London House
a deputation from the Church Association in support of
Mr Kensit’s action at St. Ethelburga’s, which they described
as ‘a manly and constitutional protest’ meriting the
Bishop’s approval ; they called upon him to drive out all
false and erroneous doctrines and illegal practices. The

1898 A PLEA FOR TOLERATION 293

Bishop’s answer was, in the main, a plea for toleration within
the Church. He said:

‘People in England are agreed as they never were before
about the fundamental doctrines of Christian faith. True
religion prevails in England to-day as an actual power on the
individual and society, and it should be recognised that it is
desirable in minor matters, such as the mode of public wor-
ship—for I consider that those are minor matters which are
not concerned with the fundamental truths of the Christian
faith, but with the manner in which it is thought desirable to
put forth those truths in public worship—toleration should
be practised. ... I think that some things are done which
are contrary to the large liberty allowed in the Church.
There are certain lines to be maintained, but the drawing of
these lines is always a very difficult thing. On that point the
minds of the bishops are frequently exercised, and they
struggle as much as they can to bring their influence to bear
upon those who make use of illegal practices.

‘Englishmen never like to see people dealt with in a legal
manner in consequence of their opinions. The bishops have
come to the conclusion that a prosecution does more harm
than good ; that, so far from putting down practices, it only
gives them increased vitality ... The most deplorable
periods in the history of the Church of England have been
when attempts were made to enforce uniformity of worship.
The belief in the possibility of enforcing upon a free people
uniform forms and ideas has been a great evil to the Church.
. . . It would be well for us now to try and understand
one another, so that we may see the points upon which we
disagree, and, when we have discovered them, bring them
into the quiet and calm region where they may be dealt with
in the manner of Christian liberty and charity. My own
desire and my intention is to go on reasoning with those
whom I think to be behaving foolishly, trying to understand
their position, and to discover how they can be brought to
greater union and, what is more desirable, to the principle of
law and order. Speaking for myself, I can only say that
Mr. Kensit’s action has thrown very great hindrances in my
course. I was going on quietly and gently, struggling to
bring about a greater agreement between the different parties
in the Church. Mr. Kensit has precipitated hostilities, and is
marshalling people into hostile camps I must pursue the
course upon which I have entered, and I hope to have the
co-operation of the Church Association. .. . You must re-
member that round these trifling matters of ritual there

294 RITUAL DIFFICULTIES 1898

gathers a mass of sentiment and feeling which is intimately
associated with the facts of human life. ... In early times
great difficulties beset the Church of England because the
bishops were regarded as policemen. A bishop has two
jurisdictions—the paternal and the judicial, but his judicial
functions are distinctly second to his paternal.’

The deputation expressed themselves as somewhat disap-
pointed at the Bishop’s remarks, and the press spoke of the
‘airy way’ in which he spoke about the matter and ‘ the con-
temptuous indifference’ with which he treated these storms.
But these criticisms could not deter him from his quiet and
steady policy. He had also at this time an interview with
some of the more extremé ritualists in order to talk over the
situation with them. Amongst other things he appears to
have tried to persuade them to abstain from the use of words
which must necessarily irritate. He wrote to one of them
after the interview :

‘I do not know that I succeeded in getting you and your
friends to see my point about the use of Roman terminology.
Perhaps you will understand the larger bearing of my opinion
by reading the enclosed, which has just been sent me by a
Roman friend. It is written by the ablest of the English
Romans (Dr. Barry) and is a plea to all the members of that
Church to abandon the terminology of a belated philosophy,
and to speak in accordance with the thought of the present
day. Now if a Roman feels this, what must he think of us
who are plunging into rubbish which he is trying to get rid
of ?’

He was increasingly convinced that nothing could be
done to promote permanent peace until the irritation had sub-
sided. When Mr. Kensit wrote asking him to present a peti-
tion to the Upper House of Convocation, he answered :

‘May 10, 1898.

Dear Sir,—I shall have much pleasure in presenting your
petition to the Upper House of Convocation to-morrow.

‘I notice with satisfaction your assurance that public
protests are painful to yourself. They are painful to very
many others, and tend to create in their minds feelings which
are contrary to a peaceful settlement.

‘It would greatly strengthen my hands in dealing with
this very important matter if you would discontinue your
protests at divine service,and would submit to me a memorial

1898 SPEECH IN THE HOUSE OF LORDS 295

stating objectionable practices and your reasons for object-
ing to them,’

In reply Mr. Kensit wrote undertaking that for the next
two calendar months he would make no public protest in
any church in the London diocese, and also promised that
the arrangements made for protests in thirteen other dioceses
would be suspended.

After the presentation of Mr. Kensit’s petition the Arch-
bishop first spoke, and testified to the increasing willingness
shown by the clergy during the last few years to submit to
the authority of the bishops. He felt some doubt how fara
bishop ought to inquire for himself when he suspected illegal
practices in a parish, or how far he should wait till they were
brought before his notice, and said :

‘ Hitherto, I confess, that I have never interfered—that is,
since the time when there was the general agreement not to
prosecute—unless the matter has been regularly brought
before me. I avoided making any distinct inquiry into
separate cases. Sometimes, as you know, those who in this
way step outside the proper limits of the Church are, never-
theless, such spiritual men, are so devoted to their work, are
such examples of the deepest piety, and, in fact, do so much
for the religious life of their people, that it is very difficult for
a bishop to say “ You ought not to do this” . . . to interfere,
and by interfering to stop what is really religious work, and
religious work sometimes of the very best kind.’

Dr. Creighton followed the Archbishop, and said that he
was glad to have an opportunity of speaking on the general
issue. Two movements were going on to remedy what had
been discovered to be wrong, one a movement of reform
from within, the other of violent protest from without, and
his difficulty had been to prevent these movements from get-
ting hopelessly into the way of one another.

‘I discovered, he continued, ‘soon after coming to the
diocese of London that there were certainly one or two
features in the conduct of services in some churches which
awakened natural anxiety . . . the introduction of unauthorised
services and ceremonies in addition to those contained in the
Book of Common Prayer. . . and, secondly, the additions to,
or omissions from, the Cummunion Office contained in the Book

296 RITUAL DIFFICULTIES 1898

of Common Prayer, which seem to me to be made with a view
of reading that service into the terms of the services of the
Church of Rome. There is, thirdly, the needless use of
Roman terminology in church notices, in parochial maga-
zines, and also in the teaching given insome churches. Those
three things seem to me to be opposed to the principles of
the Church of England, and to need, if possible, some
restriction. They are founded upon individual preference in
a great many cases, and at the bottom of them lies a
disregard of all authority, or, at all events, a curious mode of
explaining what is the nature of authority. . . . I, found, further,
that there was great uneasiness about these things existing in
a very large body of the clergy themselves ; in fact, existing
almost universally among them. There was also a very
considerable amount of anxiety and uneasiness among
those whom, with perfect respect and entire sympathy with
them, I would still call, simply for convenience, the offenders
in these matters. For they frequently found that, though
they started from what they supposed to be common
principles, they came to different conclusions, and they
were by no means at harmony amongst themselves. ... I
may say that, much as the matter has been brought before
the public lately, the number of churches in which these
things are done is comparatively small... . I found that
there was a desire on the part of many clergy that some steps
should be taken to consider more definitely what was the
nature of authority in the Church of England, and how it
could be most profitably exercised. Your lordships may
have seen resolutions passed at a tolerably large, and in
many ways a very representative, conference’ which was
held a few days ago. ... The first resolution is “That this
conference recognises the full authority of the bishop to
prohibit any service not contained in the Book of Common
Prayer.” The second is “That this conference recognises
the full authority of the bishop to prohibit any omissions
from or any additions to the services contained in the Book
of Common Prayer.” The arrangements for the holding of
that conference were begun last October, and I know of
similar movements which were begun long before this public
protest took any shape at all. Movements that are of great
importance, and furthermore conferences which I have held
myself with many of the clergy who might be called extreme,
were going on. It was exceedingly inconvenient in all ways

' A conference convened by Canon Carter of Clewer and held in Osnaburgh
Street on May 5.

1898 INTERCOURSE WITH CLERGY 297

that a peaceable solution of these questions should be
hampered by any ill-advised utterances that were made with
reference to public protests which had taken place, and I
considered it my duty to abstain very carefully from saying
anything which could in the least degree add to the exasper-
ation of people’s minds. . . . The laity are perplexed and dis-
turbed ... when any body of people disregard lawful authority
altogether, and undertake to become a law to themselves,
they certainly are shocking the Christian conscience in a way
which far exceeds, in the gravity of the mischief which it is
doing, any good that they can possibly do by attending, as
they may think best, to the needs of the small flock which
they have gathered around them. This feeling of the laity is
also, if I interpret it aright, founded upon a very sane and
wholesome dread of exotic usages, and the introduction
of emotional appeals in divine services, which they feel to be
a serious menace to the stability, the seriousness, and the
straightforwardness of the English character. . . . I believe
it is possible that by putting before the minds of the clergy
broad considerations of the character and of the destiny
of the English Church, it may be quite within our power
to create, perhaps for the first time in the history of that
Church, a unanimity of opinion and an understanding of
the great work to which the providence of God has called
us, which may make us strong for a fresh beginning in the
annals of that Church which we all love so well.’

The Bishop discussed the situation with men of every
variety of opinion, both singly and in conference, always
trying to see with their eyes and to understand their
point of view. Those who differed most from him were
compelled to recognise his desire to act with fairness and
sympathy. Their letters to him abound with remarks about
his exceeding kindness, they speak of being ‘ deeply touched
by the fatherly and sympathetic tone of your letter,’ of ‘the
gentle kindness of your letter. _One about whose extreme
practices there had been many complaints, and with whom
the Bishop had in consequence constant correspondence and
interviews, writes, ‘In past times we have been perhaps driven
into an undesirable attitude towards our bishops by having it
forced upon us that our point of view was not understood
and not appreciated. Now, thank God, that is in a great
measure changed . . . I do feel that when one can come toa

298 | RITUAL DIFFICULTIES 1898

Bishop of London and freely and fearlessly speak on such a
matter as exposition, one may indeed be thankful for the
change one has lived to see.’

The Bishop’s consideration of the problem led him to decide
that the first thing to do was to try to check the deviations
from the services prescribed in the Prayer Book. He wrote:

‘Some of these introduce doctrines not contained in the
Prayer Book, e.g. Benediction, Rosary of the Virgin, Litany
of the Saints, Services for the Dead, which incorporate the
Romish view of Purgatory. This is serious—the most serious
thing which is at the bottom of the present discontent. It
upsets the type of service altogether; it disregards all the
principles of the Church of England; it ostentatiously de-
clares that the Church of England is an imperfect system, to
be supplemented at each man’s option from any source he
thinks fit . . . with this the bishops can and ought to deal
directly ; it is a matter of doctrine.’

In June he issued the following letter to his clergy:
‘Fulham Palace: June 14, 1898.

‘Rev. and dear Sir,—There are some points relating to
the performance of divine service to which I think it is well
to direct the attention of the clergy.

‘In a diocese such as this, where there is so much work to
be done of a missionary character, and where the circum-
stances of parishes vary so greatly, it is natural that there
should be a tendency to make new experiments in various
ways. This natural tendency has affected the conduct of
public worship, and must, in some degree, always do so. But
it is a tendency which must be subject to certain obvious
limitations, to which I would call your attention. It is
absolutely necessary that nothing should be done which
affects the due performance of the services of the Church as
laid down in the Book of Common Prayer, and that any
additional services which are used should conform entirely to
the spirit and intention of the Prayer Book. There must be
no confusion in the minds of the people as to the standard of
worship in the Church of England, and there must be no
opportunity for personal eccentricities to invade the system
of the Church. No seeming advantage to the methods of
teaching pursued by an individual teacher, as suited to a
particular congregation, can compensate for the harm which
is done to ecclesiastical order by any infringement of these
principles.

Se Se ee ee a ee ee ss

1898 ADDITIONAL SERVICES 299

‘For the guidance of the clergy I think it well to give
a few directions on points which I know to have caused some
perplexity and dissatisfaction.

‘(1) Morning and Evening Prayer should be said, and the
Holy Communion be celebrated, on Sundays at such hours as
are most convenient to the congregation. There should be
no appearance of disregard of any one of these services in
favour of another.

‘(2) The service for Holy Communion should be said as
it is appointed in the Book of Common Prayer, without
additions or omissions. It should be said in an audible voice
throughout.

‘(3) Additional services, where used, should be separated
by a distinct interval from the services appointed in the
Prayer Book, and should be announced as additional.

‘(4) These additional services are, I am aware, for the
most part of a very simple kind, consisting of Psalms, Lessons,
and Prayers taken from the Prayer Book. They are adapted
to special classes, such as services for children, or for men or
women, or members of parochial guilds or organisations ; or
they are intercessions for special purposes, such as missions,
or temperance, and the like. I need not say that I have no
wish to restrict the use of the church for such purposes of
devotion ; but I think it right that in all cases such services
should be submitted for my sanction.

‘In making known to you my wishes in these matters,
I would express my deepest sympathy with the arduous work
in which you are engaged, and with the difficulties which
beset you in dealing with the many problems which it must
_ needs raise in your minds. But it is my duty to see that per-
missible liberty be not unduly extended, so as to impair the
distinctive characteristics of the services of our Church.

‘Commending you and your labours to the blessing of
God,

‘I am, your faithful servant in Christ Jesus,
*M. LONDON :’

To this letter eighty-nine of the clergy, including amongst

them many of the most extreme, answered :
* June 30, 1898.

‘My Lord,—We desire to assure your Lordship of our
dutiful and loyal compliance with the directions contained in
your Lordship’s circular, and at the same time, having regard
to the nature of those directions, to thank your Lordship for
having vindicated the character of your clergy as priests and

300 RITUAL DIFFICULTIES 1898

gentlemen from the aspersions cast upon them by some
members of Parliament.’

He received besides many letters promising obedience.
‘I shall carry out your wishes in every particular.’ ‘If there
is anything in my services not approved of, I will alter it’

During the next months he received and revised the lists
of occasional services. It was, as he said, a gigantic labour,
but he found practically no opposition to the directions he
gave with regard to these services. His views on some points
connected with them are given in the following letters :

To the Rev. Canon Melville (of Worcester)
‘Fulham Palace, S.W. : June 28, 1898.

‘Dear Melville,—I was delighted to get your letter and
find that we are in complete agreement. A number of trivial
matters have raised a great question, which must be faced... .
A number of devout persons have gone on borrowing from
other sources till they have obscured what has never been
definitely settled since the Tractarian upheaval. The point
is to get this clear. You will see that I am struggling on
quietly in this direction.

To the Rev. H. E. Hall ‘July 1, 1898.

. I have nothing to say about the private prayers of
the priest, except that they should not be so long as to
interfere with the convenience of the congregation. Further,
they ought to be said privately,iie. not audibly. There
is great resentment felt at what many people consider to be
an attempt to read the English Communion Service into the
Roman Mass by omissions and supplements. This, it is
said, is done by muttering the whole service, so that the
congregation does not know what is taken from the Prayer
Book, and what from other sources. The service as pre-
scribed in the Prayer Book should be said quite audibly, and
the priest’s prayers quite inaudibly. It is necessary that the
same service should be said in all churches, and that
members of the Church of England should not be at the
mercy of an indiscriminate eclecticism. .. .

‘You know that my wish is to maintain the widest
possible liberty compatible with the existence of the Church
of England as a distinct branch of the Catholic Church. Its
position is defined in the Prayer Book: and the services
there contained must not be resolved into other services even
of a similar type.

1898 ADDITIONAL SERVICES 301

To the Rev. Canon McCormick
‘ Bettws-y-Coed: August 6, 1898.

‘Dear Canon McCormick,—I am much obliged to you
for your letter. I feel that very much for the future of
religion in England depends on the present crisis, and how
it is settled. Of course, no crisis in England is ever settled
by any definite action: but all depends on the zdeas which
spring from it and win their way to acceptance by their
inherent power and truth. It is my duty to try to get
behind the immediate forms of questions to their real
meaning. This is an arduous task, and it continually
occupies me.

‘First of all, the English Church must be the religious
organ of the English people. The people need not all agree
about details, but the general trend of the Church must be
regulated by their wishes. The Church cannot go too far
from the main ideas of the people. The present question is,
Has it done so? or rather, have some of the clergy done so?
They clearly have. Then how? I think on two points.

‘(1) They have disturbed a general type of service. No
Church can exist without some universal type. Varieties
may be considerable, but they must not disturb the Zyfe.
The mischief is that the objectors do not know what to
object to. They confuse things that are important with
things that do not matter. They do not know enough to
make good their position.

‘(2) The nation exists by virtue of a particular type of
character. Character is largely founded on religion. There
is in some quarters an attempt to bring back religious
. observances of an exotic kind which do menace English
character. This is a very serious matter, but it is hard
to discuss when minds are heated, and requires grave
consideration.

‘I am trying steadily to bring these two points to the
fore. In the shape in which I have stated them they are
capable of discussion in terms which are not terms of party.
They must be settled, and they can only be settled in one
way. But the method is all-important. If the Church of
England cannot keep together and discuss differences with
charity, seeking only for truth—then a grave blow has been
struck against the organisation of Christianity on a broad
basis in a free land. We must remember that we are models
for the future.

‘There is one point on which I would like to make a
suggestion. You havea great influence, and I would like

302 RITUAL DIFFICULTIES ee

you to think the matter over. The function of the Church of
England is to be the Church of free men. Its misfortune is
that it does not succeed in rising above historical accidents,
so as to realise its own great heritage. Its enemy is the
Church of Rome: but it ought not to treat its foe with fear,
but with kindly regard. The Church of Rome is the Church
of decadent peoples: it lives only on its past, and has no
future. Borrowing from it may be silly, but it is not
dangerous, and will pass. The Church of England has before
it the conquest of the world. We can only succeed if we
gird up our loins with the assurance that the future is ours.

‘The question of the future of the world is the existence
of Anglo-Saxon civilisation on a religious basis. The Church
of England means a great and» growing power in America
and in the Colonies. We cannot settle our own difficulties
without an eye to all that they involve. On what we say
and do, on our wisdom and charity at the present, depends a
great issue. Let us see that the points for which we contend
are fruitful for the future. I see a chance of much good
emerging if we behave with wisdom.

‘I have written more than I intended: but you will
forgive me. I only wish you to know how seriously I view
my responsibility and how large I feel it to be.’

To Mr. W. J. Birkbeck ‘ Bettws-y-Coed ; August 6, 1898.

‘Dear Birkbeck,—It has always seemed to me that the
Church of England recognises as strongly as possible the fact
of the presence in the elements at Communion, but has
declined to express any opinion on the method. ... The
expressions in the Greek Liturgy ' would be quite in accord
with the spirit of the Prayer Book. The theology of the
English Church was best expressed by Queen Elizabeth -

Christ was the Word, and spake it:
He took the bread and brake it,
And what His Word did make it
That I believe and take it.

‘I think the only point to make is that we abstain from
definition on points where Scripture does not lay down a
foundation.’

To the Rev. E. H. Hall ‘Fulham Palace: October 12, 1898.
‘Dear Mr. Hall,—Thank you very much for your letter.
I will try to answer it as plainly as possible.

' Le. ‘changing (ueraBaddv) them by the Holy Spirit’ and ‘further I believe
that this is Thy very Body, and this Thy very Blood.’

1898 ADDITIONAL SERVICES 203

‘(1) Supplementary Epistles and Gospels. I found that
the last Bishop had sanctioned them, and at first I rather
reluctantly did likewise. At last I asked him about it, and
he said, “I wish you to make known that I feel on consider-
ation I was wrong in doing so. Archbishop Benson was of
this opinion, and latterly I refused any additional sanction.”
The reason simply is that an individual bishop cannot claim
to permanently add to the Prayer Book for the stated
services of the Church.

‘(2) Corpus Christi and All Souls’ Day. In the same
way a bishop cannot add to the calendar on his individual
authority, especially by re-introducing festivals which were
abolished. They were removed because their titles implied
doctrines which were unscriptural....

‘(3) The term “Requiem Mass” implies a conception
of the relation of the departed to God which is a pious
opinion not revealed in Scripture. That there should be a
special intention in the minds of the congregation is quite
reasonable. But there is a further question, Ought this to
be announced on notices? Is not that assuming a power of
directing the congregation which is a hindrance to some?
Would it not be better to use a form resembling that of
asking the prayers of the congregation as for the sick?
There is a difference between a suggestion and a notice
which seems to exclude those who do not take it.

‘(4) I recognise the distinction between additional
services and services for special organisations. In consider-
ing them I have to be careful about phraseology in the first,
and about general intention in the second. But all services
in church are public services, and must not contravene the
principles of the Church. What these are I propose to
discuss in my R. D. conferences. But I will now say
briefly that one of them is to preserve the distinction between
the faith and pious opinions. Pious opinions, however
probable, and however reasonable, are reserved for private
use. They are not condemned; they are only not incorpo-
rated into the system of the Faith.

‘(5) You will feel that we need not now discuss limits
of concession. But I would point out that Beveridge speaks
of rites which are different from ceremonies.

‘I mark my letter private because everything which I
write seems to be published, in a way which almost destroys
confidential communication.’ ‘October 21, 1898.

‘I very much wish to have ecclesiastical matters raised
above trivialities to a conception of the mind and intention

304 RITUAL DIFFICULTIES 1898

of the English Church—the noblest exhibition of Christianity,
and therefore the most difficult to maintain. The present
disquiet is due to an uneasy feeling that this is being frittered
away into the forms of a mechanical system which, if it were
to spread, would exercise a pernicious effect on the national
character.

‘This is the large issue to be faced.’

Some of the clergy wrote to the Bishop asking him
whether they could do anything to strengthen his hands in
dealing with unauthorised services ; he answered :

‘Fulham Palace: November 22, 1808.

‘Dear Mr. Hassard,—I am wbliged to you for your letter.
I know that I can count on the cordial support of the great
body of the clergy in the diocese. I do not, however, think
that any expression of their opinion would be of any real
service at present. The point is that we must all of us fall
back on the Prayer Book, and try to understand it better.
The more this can be urged the better. I think that the best
thing which you and those who think with you can do is to
urge the necessity of compliance with the necessary demand.
It is a demand which I must steadily make, allowing as large
liberty of interpretation as is consistent with the clear
meaning of the services themselves.’

Mr. Suckling, of St. Alban’s, Holborn, had said in the
spring that he could not enter into the consideration of the
modification of his services ‘until the intimidation of mob-
law was at an end.’ When the Bishop wrote to him on
November 10, ‘while sympathising with your unwillingness
to seem to act under threats of disturbance from outside,
I think that such threats are now abandoned, the list of
St. Alban’s services was at once sent.

To the Rev. R. A. J. Suckling
‘Fulham Palace: November 22, 1898.

‘My dear Mr. Suckling,—I have been looking through the
occasional services which you sent me as being in use at
St. Alban’s, Holborn. They are for the most part of a widely
different character from those which have been submitted to
me from other churches in the diocese. They are not mere
adaptations of Prayer Book services to special purposes,
recognised in the Prayer Book, which may be emphasised in
a brief form on special occasions for special classes of the

1898 ST. ALBAN’S 305

congregation. They are of the nature of a permanent supple-
ment to the Book of Common Prayer, in many cases for
purposes which are not there recognised at all. They include
a series of antiphons in the Evening Psalms and Canticles ;
additions to the Communion Service by special collects,
epistles, and gospels on Saints’ Days, which are not pro-
vided for in the Prayer Book; a system of graduals and
prayers on all holy days, and suchlike things which are not
provided for in the Prayer Book, on the ground “that there
was many times more business to find out what should be
read than to read it when found out.” ... I am unable to
sanction any of these things. And I think it best to tell you
at once that, in my opinion, your occasional services are
framed in a spirit of disregard of the intention of the Prayer
Book, so as to suggest that they should be entirely recast,
and that many of them should be discontinued.’

In reply Mr. Suckling wrote reminding the Bishop of the
‘extraordinary circumstances’ under which he had _ been
instituted to his benefice at the request of Mr. Maconochie
acting under the suggestion of Archbishop Tait and Bishop
Jackson. He said that he was of course prepared to render
canonical obedience to his Bishop, but that the reconstruction
of services so widely appreciated would be ‘an upheaval and
a cause of much distress.’ The Bishop answered :

‘ Fulham Palace: November 25, 1898.

‘My dear Mr. Suckling—I know that your present
position was not of your seeking, and that your difficulties
were not of your making—you will recognise that the same
considerations apply also to myself.

‘There are in the history of all institutions times when
experiments are made, and times when the nature of those
experiments has to be estimated.

‘I am quite willing to accept your assurance that the
services of St. Alban’s are appreciated by the congregation.
But the adoption of this appreciation as the sole criterion
would rob the Church of any positive system and reduce it to
congregationalism.

‘It is now obvious that deviations from the services of the
Prayer Book are tending to add private opinions to the
system of the Church. It is equally obvious that such
additions cannot be made by private judgment, or by the
preferences of special congregations.

‘It is with reference to this principle that I must review

VOL. II. Xx

306 RITUAL DIFFICULTIES 1898

your additional services. I sincerely hope that you and your
people alike will be willing to make some sacrifice of their
own desires to the good of the whole Church. I venture to
think that this is a great opportunity.

‘If you are willing to talk over with me your services,
I should be glad to see you and any members of your staff,

The proposed interview was held. The services were
discussed, and the Bishop pointed out the changes which he
felt to be necessary. A few days afterwards Mr. Suckling

‘T have to thank your Lordship for your great kindness
to me at our interview on November 29 at Fulham Palace.
It did its most blessed work, for which I am deeply grateful
to you. Yet even now, I cannot hide the fact from myself
that you have laid upon me a difficult task, though I shall try
D. V. to do what I believe to be my duty.’

A circular was issued by the clergy of St. Alban’s to the
congregation stating the changes which had to be made. It
said that, of course as Ordinary, it was entirely within the
Bishop’s rights to make these changes ; and ‘ whatever it may
cost us, it is entirely within our duty loyally to obey.’ There
was naturally a good deal of indignation expressed publicly
and privately. But one leading member of the congregation
wrote to the Bishop: ‘I should like to express the deep
gratitude that one feels for the kind and generous manner in
which your Lordship has dealt with the church and the
services that we love. I am afraid that some of us laymen,
in our zeal, scarcely appreciate as we ought the difficulties of
the position in which our Bishopis placed.’ It would be well
if those who were loud in rebuking the ‘lawlessness of the
clergy’ had tried to understand the real sacrifices made in
this and other cases at the bidding of the Bishop, and in
deference to what he urged to be for the good of the whole
Church. This submission at St. Alban’s was a very real help
and comfort to him in the midst of all his difficulties.

1 The services most criticised were the Requiem Masses, at which in future, in
addition to the Prayer Book Communion Service, only a Collect from the Burial
Service might be added. Asperges were done away with, graduals and antiphons
cut out of Mattins and Evensong. The legend of Veronica was not to figure in
the stations of the Cross. ‘There were to be no proper services for Black-letter
Saints’ days,

1898 ADDITIONAL SERVICES 307

But though his ruling was almost universally accepted,
it cannot be said that all who obeyed were convinced, nor
that the irritation caused by the changes quickly subsided.
It was not only the High Church party who were affected.
Some Low Churchmen had been accustomed to make
omissions which the Bishop equally refused to authorise. He
did his best to explain his policy.

To the Rev. W. E. Oliver, D.D.
‘ Fulham Palace, S.W. : December 9, 1898.

‘Dear Dr. Oliver,—The difficulty of the present state of
things is that there is great unrest, but great inability to state
clearly what it is about. The general formula that “the
Church is being Romanised ” is vague ; it may mean (1) that
Roman doctrines, disavowed at the Reformation, are being
taught :

‘(2) That Roman practices are being introduced into the
services of the Church.

‘(3) That all ritual and ornaments are dangerous lest they
should be Roman.

‘You will observe that (1) and (2) apply to a very small
number ofcases. As regards (1) no evidenceis ever produced
of a tangible kind. I have never had any information of
a sermon which preached Roman doctrine laid before me.

‘As regards (2) it is invariably mixed with (3), and
discussed with it. Everybody draws his own line, and no one
regards principles. Yet till we have some agreement about
ea what are we to do?

. You must remember that it would be quite easy
for me ‘at the present time to produce by an unguarded
utterance (1) a considerable rebellion ; (2) a schism; (3) a
large secession to Rome. Would any of these help us?

‘The proposals for a conference fall flat, because no one
on the attacking side knows what he wishes to talk about.
The fear is lest the extreme men be recognised by the great
body of the High Church party as attacked for things which
they hold to be vital. If that were done there would be
disruption. To avoid that they must be isolated on distinct
points. I have taken additional services as the important
point ; I am steadily bringing them into order. They are the
real source of danger under (1); and that is the point to
guard against.

‘But it is necessary for us all to think out things more
clearly.’

x2?

308 RITUAL DIFFICULTIES 1898

To the Rev. Canon Fleming ‘Fulham Palace: December 24, 1898.

‘Dear Canon Fleming,—One of your parishioners writes
to me that at the 8.30 Celebration on Sundays the service
begins with the Offertory sentences. A wish is expressed for
the whole service to be read.

‘I have had to rule that the service of Holy Communion
is intended to be said in its entirety—that it does not come
under the provisions of the Act of Uniformity Amendment
Act, and that I have no power to sanction any curtailment
of it.

‘I know that a mere desire for brevity is your only motive,
but in the case of this service it is the service for each who
attends, and cannot be modified to suit the convenience of
the clergy.’ !

In answer Canon Fleming wrote to ask what the Bishop

meant by ‘ entirety.’
‘ Fulham Palace: January 10, 1899.

‘My dear Canon Fleming,— I quite agree with you that
I owe you an explanation of the principles on which I am
acting. You will admit that, in a time of excitement, when
many questions are raised in a confused manner, it is the
first duty of an administrator to see that he acts with reference
to principles. I did my best to define what I had before me
and to pursue my object steadily.

‘In my circular letter of June last I made several requests
with a view of asserting the fundamental points of the system
of the Church of England against all tendencies of our time
which might in any way obscure them. One request was
that the service for Holy Communion should be said “ with-
out additions or omissions.” I was aware that this apparently
simple request presented practical difficulties. Increased
number of services, the needs of different classes of popula-
tion, the variety of hours of service, the combination of ser-
vices which congregations wish—all these lead to methods
of abbreviation. It seemed to me that in dealing with these
cases I must possess a principle. The only principle I could
find was the clear conception of the nature of the structure
of the service—its logical method.

1 In another letter, in answer to a question whether when there was a Com-
munion at 7 and another at 8, the Commandments might not be omitted at the
earlier service, he said: ‘I think that the Commandments ought to be said at
every celebration of the Holy Communion. Such a service can never be regarded
as ‘‘additional.” It is ¢he service for each communicant, and he ought to have it
entire.’

1898 THE COMMUNION SERVICE 309

‘Now, exhortations are not part of the structure of the
service itself. They are instructions to the people, they are
homilies or addresses, valuable as models of teaching, set
forth for that purpose in a time when teaching was rarer
than it is now. Their contents are now expressed in ser-
mons. Their omission does not take from the meaning of the
service,

‘But the service itself proceeds on a system which all
hangs together. The Lord’s Prayer and the Prayer for
Purity strike a keynote of preparedness of heart. The com-
mandments insist on the duty of self-examination according
to the moral law in its fulness. The Collect, Epistle and
Gospel] turn to the special lesson of the day. The Creed sets
before the worshipper the fulness of the Christian faith. Then
we turn to the special purpose of the service.

‘Can [any part of] this be omitted without serious loss?
It is natural for the clergy who have many services to think
so sometimes. But the service of Holy Communion in my
opinion must be regarded from the point of view of the
individual communicant. The method of his training is the
one thing to be regarded. The rubric “Then shall this
general confession be made in the name of all those who are
minded to receive the Holy Communion,” assumes this pre-
vious preparation to have been made and ratified by each
individual in the presence of the Church.

‘You will see the bearing of this on the subject of private
confession. The first part of the Communion service seems
to me to have been purposely framed for the end of setting
forth the true means of self-examination and of quieting the
conscience. To omit it seems to me to obscure or set aside
an important part of the systematic teaching of the Church.
This is the view on which I have acted. It is not beyond
criticism, I am well aware. But the point on which a Bishop
has to be even excessively careful is to see that the system
of the Church be maintained in its great principles. In doing
so he has many difficulties in dealing with the equity of each
case : and in every instance he knows that he is regarded as
needlessly pedantic. But I am of opinion that a careful
consideration of the structure of our services and of their
essential meaning will lead to a better understanding of the
whole position. We must agree about the meaning of the
services themselves before we can discuss the possible varieties
of the modes of rendering them.’

It was inevitable that, in connexion with the revision of

310 RITUAL DIFFICULTIES 18y8

occasional services, the question of the reservation of the
Blessed Sacrament should comeup. In the Bishop’s opinion
it was by far the most serious of the questions at issue.

To the Bishop of Stepney (Dr. Winnington-Ingram)
‘London House: May 20, 1898.

‘Dear Bishop,—It is clear that the Prayer Book contem-
plates the good of the sick person, and provides that he
should have the satisfaction of a complete service, including
Consecration, in his presence. Reservation in any form up-
sets this, and substitutes the convenience of the priest as the
determining element in the case. This is the main point to
be considered. The priest must not consider his own con-
venience till he is driven by absolute stress to do so. Of
course population has vastly increased, and also the desire
of sick persons for frequent Communion. If the demand
is beyond the power of the staff to supply, then it may be
permissible to carry the Sacrament to sick people after a
Celebration in Church, if they request it, and have a complete
Celebration at home when possible. But I think it should
be remembered (1) that great Festivals have Octaves, and
that the sick may be provided for during the Octave; (2) If
this is not enough, the administration to the sick should be
as far as possible a continuation of the service in church,
and should follow upon it. My opinion is that the whole
matter should be as rare as possible; that it should be
regarded as an inevitable necessity, not part of a system ;
that there should be no definite reservation in church, but
that it be a supplement outside to a service performed inside.

‘This is my own opinion on a reasonable survey of the
case. The difficulty in applying it is that men are rarely
reasonable, and if recognised as such hasten to become un-
reasonable,’

* London House: May 25, 1898.

‘Dear Bishop,—We have just been discussing the question
of reservation for the sick even within such limits as I laid
down in my letter to you. I find that the Archbishop’s
opinion is strongly against any recognition of reservation on
the ground, which I strongly feel, that the separation of the
recipient from the act of Consecration is opposed to the spirit
of the Prayer Book. I never feel that the case of necessity is
made out: but if we sanction it in case of necessity, people
are sure to goon. Therefore we will not sanction it in any
form.’

1898 RESERVATION 311

To the Rev. R. Linklater ‘July 1g, 1898.

‘The exhortation in the Communion Service is of the
nature of a homily, and is at your discretion always... .
The question of reservation for the sick is of great import-
ance I know. But I can only ask you to consider the plain
facts. The Prayer Book of 1549 allowed the Communion to
be carried directly from church on days when there was a
Celebration, to sick persons who gave notice. Otherwise the
Consecration was to take place in their room as at present.
There was no question of any general reservation in church
for an emergency. This restricted form of reservation was
struck out in 1552 and has never been restored. Moreover
a rubric was added: “it shall never be carried out of the
church.” I know the attempts to explain that away, but we
must not try to explain away plain words, which have to be
read in the light of the previous concession. It is impossible
to avoid the conclusion that the intention was :

‘(1) That the recipient should be solely considered, and
that the Consecration in his presence was thought a desirable
part of the service ;

‘(2) That provision for exceptional cases was made by
the rubric about spiritual Communion ;

‘(3) That the strong intention was to prevent the growth
of a mechanical conception of the efficacy of the Sacraments.

‘I very seriously think that we must all accept these con-
clusions : and I am sure that our ministrations will be helped
by so doing.’

‘July 26, 1898.

‘I cannot disguise from myself the real importance of the
_ question of reservation. I admit the practical convenience
of your custom: but I am certain that it was meant to be
prohibited by the present rubrics. Of course those rubrics
might be amended, and an effort for the purpose might be
made in Convocation. But you know that no proposal to
change them would pass any body representative of the
Church of England, however elected.

‘The intention of our Church is :

*(1) To seek the advantage of the sick person rather than
the convenience of the priest. Many innovations have been
made lately avowedly in the interest of the latter. This can-
not stand.

‘(2) The sight of the Consecration is therefore regarded
as an integral part of the service for the recipient’s good.
Where this is not possible the recipient is referred to spiritual
Communion.

312 RITUAL DIFFICULTIES 1898

‘(3) This was clearly regarded as a necessary bulwark
against the mechanical view of the Sacrament which prevailed,
and which is always a danger.

‘Now, of course, we may any of us criticise the wisdom
of this. I confess that the more I have thought carefully
about the matter lately, the wiser does the Prayer Book
position seem to me. Deviations from it rapidly lead to
excesses. Reservation for the sick has in several cases passed
into reservation for adoration and so to Benediction. We
have the proof that the line was wisely drawn.

‘It will take reflection to see all this in its various bear-
ings. But if we chafe under the restrictions of our forefathers,
let us remember the many blessings we have received.’

To the Hon. and Rev. James Adderley
‘Fulham Palace: December 24, 1898.

‘The chief principle regulating worship is the balance
between the various elements of human nature. It is the
very essence of zeal and enthusiasm that they destroy this
‘balance through a certain impatience of God’s way. They
tend to assume that man is what he is not—to forget his
inevitable limitations—to assume that God’s purpose for our
sanctification can be hurried on by assumptions of our own
The danger of this process is to assume that our emotions
which are temporary can be made permanent by elevating
their dictates above those of our intelligence, which is the
most permanent part of our being. This is the root of the
failure of all great religious movements.

‘ Now reservation as a help to worship raises the question
ina mostacute form. Hence itsimportance. The reception of
the Holy Communion is a moment of spiritual uplifting to the
recipient. Reservation is an attempt, by outward appeal, to
extend this over a longer time; as carried out by the Church
of Rome, it aims at making this moment permanent or re-
newable at pleasure. Is this possible? Doesit work? Does
it not impair the Sacrament itself, and those ordinary means
of communion with our Lord which the Sacrament itself was
meant to impress and strengthen? This is a great question—
to be faced as a whole—in its general bearing on Christian
life. It cannot be settled by individual feeling or option.’

To the Rev. H. E. Hall ‘Fulham Palace: December 29, 1898.

‘My dear Mr. Hall,—The two points of reservation and
incense raise widely different questions, and rest on different
grounds. (1) Reservation raises theological questions which
go very far. If practised for the purpose of adoration, it

1898 RESERVATION 313

is clearly against the mind of the Church of England. To
prevent that possibility, the Church went to very early times
for a mode of communicating the sick without reserving at
all. It might have been possible to raise the question of
altering this mode, on the ground that the danger which it
proposed to guard against was past. But the misfortune is
that that plea cannot be sustained. The plain fact is that
the wisdom of the framers of the Prayer Book is amply
justified. This has to be faced. No Bishop could say
publicly that he believed reservation for the sick to be abso-
lutely free from danger of any ulterior results. This being
so, how can he claim to exercise any power of dispensing
from the mode prescribed by the Prayer Book ?

‘(2) Incense raises only the question of the interpretation
of the Ornaments Rubric. I cannot see how any reasonable
interpretation, which has the least chance of adoption, can
go beyond the ccntention that the old ornaments were to be
used so far as they could for the revised services, but the
services must interpret the rubric, not wice versa. Incense
might be used to dignify the service, as an accompaniment,
not to emphasise particular parts of the service. This is the
meaning of “censing persons and things.” It introduces an
element not otherwise recognised —and so is in itself an addi-
tion to the service. These are considerations of principle:
you will see that they are important. The point of the
present crisis is that experiments have been made, and they
are now challenged to show their meaning and their tendency.
I know that it is hard to face the abstract question: but it
must be considered quite in the abstract.’

In October Mr. Kensit wrote to say that if the Bishop did
not interfere he would, and that there were hundreds ready to
take the law into their own hands. He asked for a statement
from the Bishop to be read at a great demonstration which
he purposed to hold in Exeter Hall on October 25.

The following letter was sent him :

To Mr. John Kensit ‘ Fulham Palace: October 20, 1898.

‘Sir,—It is my duty to see that the principles of the
Church of England are duly maintained and expressed in the
services held in her churches. This duty I steadily perform.
When differences of opinion disturb the peace of the Church,
it is the duty of those in authority to behave with strict re-
gard to justice, and to remember that they are dealing with
matters which are connected with the deepest sentiments

314 RITUAL DIFFICULTIES 1898

of the human heart and the most profound convictions of the
human mind. Human wisdom as well as Christian charity
prescribes tenderness and patience in dealing with conscien-
tious convictions.

‘I regret that the tone of your letter implies that neither
wisdom nor charity has any place in your consideration.
You rejoice that you have people “under your command,”
“who are prepared to take the law into their own hands.”
Such a method of proceeding is doomed to failure, and
I would ask you very seriously to consider the heavy re-
sponsibility which you take upon yourself by uttering such a
threat. Excited feelings and disorderly proceedings cannot
be the methods for establishing Christian truth. God’s
message is brought to every soul by persuasion and not by
force. Irregular and unwise action on the part of some of
the clergy cannot be amended by more irregular and un-
wise action on the part of some of the laity.

‘As you ask me what steps I am taking, I would inform
you that Iam endeavouring by my private exhortations to
deal with such irregularities or indiscreet action as are
brought before my notice in such a shape that I can deal
with them. It is only by steady perseverance in this course
that the principles of the Church of England can be vindi-
cated and maintained.

‘I would be obliged if you would read this letter to the
meeting of which you enclose mea notice. It is my appeal
to the good sense and love of justice which characterise
Englishmen and to the brotherly love of justice which ought
to characterise the relations of all Christians towards one
another, especially when slight differences arise between them.

‘Yours faithfully, ‘M. LONDON :?’

This letter was read at the excited meeting in Exeter
Hall over which Mr. Kensit presided, and was the only
thing to which the audience listened. Mr. Kensit’s oppo-
nents copied his methods, and attended in large numbers
to prevent his champions from being heard.

The Bishop chose as the subject of his addresses to the
ruridecanal conferences in the autumn ‘the Position of the
Church of England.’ By his words he lifted his audience, as
one of them said, ‘into the serene atmosphere of great
principles, expounded with perfect lucidity.’

He did not allude to recent controversies, but stated that
his object was to set forth the principles of the Church of

1898 THE POSITION OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND 315

England. He showed how the English Church had been
reformed in the sixteenth century by returning to the
principles of sound learning which England had the unique
opportunity of applying calmly and dispassionately because
there the Reformation movement was not inextricably
mingled as in foreign countries with grave political distur-
bances ; that the work which this learning had to do was to
remove from the system of the Church a mass of accretions
which had grown round it; man, to meet his own require-
ments, had expanded the Truth which God had made known.
The problem set before the leaders of our Church in the
sixteenth century was to disentangle essential truth from the
mass of opinion that had gathered round it. The fact that
our Church had avoided ‘the method of continually attacking
error by negative assertions without any adequate affirmations
to take their place’ but aimed ‘at setting forth the Truth in
a simple and dignified system’ had led to the groundless
assertion that it expresses a compromise: ‘Sound learning
must always wear the appearance of a compromise between
ignorance and plausible hypothesis.’ All things cannot be
explained; ‘where God has not spoken, man must keep
silence. It is one duty of the Church to maintain the Divine
reserve, and to uphold the Divine wisdom, against the
specious demands of even the noblest forms of purely human
emotion.’ He concluded by saying that he thought ‘that
the system of the Church affords the best means for adding
still more to our national character those qualities which it
has ever striven to impart . . . the Church is a great witness
to the continuity of national life, and the method of the
Divine training of our race. It raises a constant protest
against excessive self-assertion, against unbridled indi-
vidualism. It forges no fetters; it knows no» mechanical
system ; it does not impair the responsibility of the individual
soul.... The great danger of the present day is lest the
aspirations of the highest minds, profoundly Christian and
profoundly moral, should desert all ecclesiastical systems . . .
This gradual alienation . . . has occurred in other countries

. we of the Church of England are still in close touch
with the vigorous life of a great people.

* Reprinted in Zhe Church and the Nation, p. 266.

CHAPTER X
LONDON LIFE, 1898

[ MUST return to consider some of the many other things
besides the ritual difficulties with which the Bishop was
occupied in 1898. Heshowed his interest in the work of the
County Council by presenting in February the certificates
to the 700 scholars selected by their Technical Education
Board. The children were immensely pleased when he told
them that, if he had his own way, he would abolish the teach-
ing of grammar in schools. He was much amused at a letter
from a schoolboy thanking him for what he had said about
grammar, and saying that it had been the bane of his life.

To a schoolmaster who wrote to ask him if his words had
been correctly reported, he answered :

‘Fulham Palace: February 28, 1898.

‘Dear Sir,—I have before me the words which I used
concerning grammar. “If I had my own way, I should
abolish the teaching of grammar, not because I do not like it,
but because I think it is the subject which is furthest off
from life.”

‘You will see that I was speaking from a general concep-
tion of the nature of education. Doubtless Iam quite wrong :
but I should like to see a radical change in our notion of
elementary education.

‘The mere point which you mention—that boys come
from board schools knowing nothing of grammar—which
they have been carefully taught—makes for my argument.

‘You will not teach them to speak and write correctly by
teaching grammar—but by making them talk and write and
then correcting them.

‘Moreover grammar cannot be taught from the English
language. You may teach Greek grammar or Latin grammar,
but not English, Even Greek and Latin grammar is not
understood till the age of sixteen or seventeen.

a A ee a eT ee ae a ee

1898 LETTERS 317

‘It is possible to teach Logic, ie. the analysis of zdeas,
but not grammar, which professes to be the analysis of
sentences. In the study of every subject you have to allow
for the length of time for which the course can be carried on.
If a boy is going to be educated till eighteen, it does not
matter that his knowledge should be in a very confused state
at fourteen. But if his education ends at thirteen or four-
teen, it is necessary that he should understand then why and
what he was taught.

‘ The conception of a“ ladder ” in education is quite wrong :
it does not correspond to facts. Ifan education is to stop
at twelve, it will be on one line ad initio: if it stop at
fifteen on another. Anyone who determines to continue
must go through a preparatory stage for his new work.

‘For elementary education the whole idea of a subject
seems to me wrong.’

In March we went for the first time to live in London
House.

To his nephew Basil ‘March 17, 1898.

‘Now that we are settled in London House I find that |
quite like it. I get back in the evenings much sooner than I
used to do, and I get out in the mornings without so much
trouble. Also it is easier for people to come and see me.
Of course we have no garden, but the children go to Fulham
and play hockey asusual. I hope to get off this afternoon and
have a game forachange. I amvery busy with confirmations
and see hosts of boys and girls every day. They all,look
very nice and good. I wonder if they will remain so, poor
‘dears.’

OAS a ‘London House: March 17, 1898.

‘You have been often in my mind lately, I do not
exactly know why; but you are a very pleasant inmate.
Every year as I grow older I feel more strongly the charm of
old friends, and their special place in my life. . .. The more
people I see, the more I look back on those whom I knew
before. There is such a difference between knowing anyone
in themselves, and as they appear in society—of course the
last is interesting: but then to be interested is not entirely
satisfying. However, I was interested the other day by
being asked to meet Lord Dufferin at lunch. He and I
were the only gentlemen, and we had a long talk. .. . It is
interesting to see how conversance with great affairs affects a

,

man.

318 LONDON LIFE 1898

He was a good deal vexed about this time by the publica-
tion of a supposed ‘ Interview’ with him in ‘ Goodwill.’ It
was written by a young man in whom he had been affec-
tionately interested for many years, and was intended as
warm praise, but it was not submitted to the Bishop before
publication, and its tone gave offence to some. What hurt
the Bishop was the breach of confidence,

To the editor of ‘ Goodwill.’ ‘London House: March 15, 1898.

‘I am very sorry that there should be any misunder-
standing. I had put the whole matter out of my mind, and
would not have referred to it if you had not done so, But
there seems to have been a complete divergence of opinion.

‘When R said he was going to write an interview, I
supposed that he meant an account of me, with a description
of Fulham, and a few remarks about things in general.
When he came I referred him to a book of newspaper
cuttings which one of my daughters keeps. He asked me a
question about Leicester strikes, which I negatived. Then he
laid aside his pencil, and I supposed he had all the materials
he needed. What followed was a conversation, which I
considered to be private. I do not recognise it in the printed
account, which seems to me to contain all the odzter dicta
which I may conceivably have made during the last six
years. But I never supposed it possible that anything which
purported to express my opinions in words should be
published without being sent me in proof... I am afraid
that I know so little of modern journalism, and am so utterly
out of sympathy with it, that I cannot even understand its
methods, or suppose that any man with a serious purpose
can use them. The appearance of the interview in “ Goodwill ”
hopelessly bewildered me, and I am still unable to under-
stand how it was possible. This is due to my ignorance of
the world.

‘I am really a very simple person. I like to trust people,
and take them as they seem to be, The proposal for an
interview came to me after I had professed Sister G—— , while
I was hastily eating my breakfast in your simple retectory.
The idea that I was dealing with a journalist wao wanted
clever copy, and did not care how he got it, was miles from
my thoughts. In talking with R I was thinking only of
himself, of his dangers, of his tendency to exaggerate trifles,
of the need of discipline. I was trying to give him warnings
against worldly tendencies, which I see on all sides in this
place,

1898 HOLY WEEK SERVICES 319

‘I say this to explain why I spoke to you in what
doubtless you considered a harsh manner. I had not
personal feeling, I trust. But you have come out of the
world; you are trying to heighten its standard; you are
working for a nobler future. Beware, I affectionately im-
plore you, of the ways of the world. We are always fighting
God’s battle with the weapons of the flesh, and they break
in our hands.

‘St. Francis did not regenerate the world by smart
journalism. We all trust to our own cleverness: we all deal
with modern problems. It is for you especially to rise above
this—to deal with eternal problems, and show, not how well
old forms can accord with modern ideas, but how spiritual
power can create a purer atmosphere, in which there is
neither new nor old, but all things become beautiful and
clear.

‘This was what I wanted to imply—I am nothing, and
this matter is forgotten. But you have a future: will you
rise to it? The world will be moved by seeing a spirit not
like its own; and this spirit must never work in the world’s
way. ‘Yours with real concern,

‘M. LONDON :’

This year he took the Holy Week services in St. Paul’s
Cathedral. He preached at mid-day on the characters of
those who combined to condemn the Lord, to a large con-
gregation chiefly of business men, and on Good Friday he
took the Three Hours’ Service.’

During the last few months he had suffered frequent
pain, the cause of which could not be determined. So at
Easter, by his doctor’s advice, we went to Glion for a
fortnight. It was the only holiday that he did not thoroughly
enjoy. He never cared much for Switzerland; the life in
a big hotel bored him, and he was often suffering. But
he returned decidedly better, for another month’s residence
in London House.

One of his first engagements was to preach at the festival
connected with the opening of the new buildings of St. Hilda’s,
the ladies’ settlement started by Cheltenham College in East
London. He spoke of the feeling that must lie at the
bottom of all work for others. ‘Only in the sense of spiritual
equality, of sharing the same gifts, can men meet on terms

' These addresses have been published under the title Lessons from the Cross.

320 LONDON LIFE 1898

of frankness and cordiality . . . Work done with the
smallest sense of condescension in the heart is worthless.
There must be reciprocity, the frank and full recognition
that they who would teach others are also ready to be
taught by them ... What is the idea at the bottom of a
settlement? Surely what each one seeks in coming and
labouring there is simply an opportunity of crying to their
brothers and sisters, “ 1 beseech you be as I am, for I am as
ye are. Is my life better than yours? If it be so in one
sense, in other ways yours is better than mine... Let us
bring all that we have together, and ‘look at it with common
eyes ; let us not regard one another as separate and apart.”’

In the ‘ Westminster Gazette’ about this time there was
the following description of the Bishop’s life: ‘In the last
eight days he has been at four public dinners, attended eight
public meetings, consecrated a church, laid the stone of
another, besides preaching, confirming, giving personal inter-
views to clergy, and writing endless letters. Well may
Lord Salisbury say that he is the hardest-worked man in the
country.’ It was at one of these public dinners that he was
given the freedom of the Clothworkers.

A Sunday spent at Cambridge in order to preach before
the University came as a welcome break. He chose as the
subject of his sermon ‘Liberty. Some years before at
breakfast at Lambeth Palace, he had propounded the question
what was the most important object of pursuit, and had
maintained amidst the friendly and animated contradiction
which never failed in that circle, that liberty was the most
precious possession of man. This conviction only deepened
as the years passed. But he felt also increasingly the tre-
mendous responsibility of liberty, and said that, instead of
snatching at it as a prize, it would be more true to speak
of the burden of liberty. In this sermon at Cambridge he
said: ‘If we try to grasp the meaning of progress as it is
shown in the history of the past, it is to be found only in the
growing recognition of the dignity of man, which is another
form of expressing human freedom, and is the ground of its
claim. He showed in his concluding words how that
recrudescence of the spirit of persecution, which was such a
constant cause of concern to him, could alone be met by a

1868 THE CO-OPERATIVE CONGRESS 321

true understanding of liberty. ‘We have still to trust to the
good sense of the community to restrain individual extra-
vagances. But this good sense must rest upon principles ; it
cannot be picked up from the expediency of the moment.
Justice and fairness of mind must rest on firm foundations,
which are not moved by temporary storms. There are
signs enough in all that is occurring around us of the duty
which is incumbent on us to strengthen the foundations of
our national life. We rest upon a precious heritage of liberty.
God grant that we may understand its value and may use it
well. But we shall not do so unless we recognise it as an
eternal principle, capable of indefinite expansion, but re-
quiring a recognition of individual limitations—a possession
involving grave responsibilities, not to be enjoyed for personal
gratification, or claimed for the gratification of personal
interests. It is God’s gift to those who grasp its meaning,
and seek His help to use it rightly.’ '

On May 28 he was present at Mr. Gladstone’s funeral,
following immediately behind the coffin. At the last moment
a wish was expressed for a prayer to be said before the coffin
was taken from its resting place in Westminster Hall. The
Bishop composed a prayer, which he said standing at the
head of the coffin, just before the procession started.2 That
evening he went to Peterborough, for one of the very few
visits he was able to pay to his old diocese. Always a
warm friend of the co-operative movement, he had agreed
to be President of the Co-operative Congress which met that
year at Peterborough, and gave his presidential address on
Whit Monday. He spoke about the educational value of
co-operation. ‘Co-operation teaches that no economic ad-
vantages are to be obtained, except by a corresponding
responsibility being undertaken by him who hopes to obtain
them. It shows that greater freedom is only to be won by
subordination to a higher law, which takes into consideration
larger elements of social welfare. He pointed out in charac-
teristic words the value of a conference :

‘ After all, the highest thing in which we can co-operate is
in ideas. They luckily cost nothing, and do not even add to

1 Published in Zhe Mind o7 St. Peter and other Sermons.
* See Appendix I.
VOL. II. .

322 LONDON LIFE 1898

the weight of our luggage when we go away. Ideas are
useful in proportion to the amount of our experience. . . . It
is easy to improve society on paper, it is more difficult to
improve ourselves in practice. Therefore I say to you cherish
your ideal, keep before you your original principle, remember
what your efforts have taught you, use what you have learnt
for the good of others, do not try short cuts to prosperity.’ }

We went back to Fulham for the Trinity Ordination. In
June he wrote to his niece : ‘I am looking forward to August.
I count the weeks with impatience. I always think that each
week as it comes is going to be easier ; but it never is.’

He had been for some time occupied with a committee
of Convocation on Divorce, and on July 7 he presented its
report with the following speech :

*.. It is extraordinary how complicated and difficult
the consideration of this questionis. It is a point upon which,
perhaps more than any other, we feel the difference between
the medizval and modern mind. It would be almost true to
say that all through the middle ages the tendency of men was
to wish to have things clearly and logically put upon paper;
that they were more concerned in expressing lofty principles
as such than they were concerned in carrying out those
principles in action. At all events they were great idealists,
and idealists in a different sense from that in which idealism
exists at the present day. Nowadays we are all practical
certainly to this extent, that our desire is that the laws should
be carried out, and that they should represent what is the
popular conscience at the time at which they are passed .. .
attempts to take the letter of the medizval law, and to infer
from it that there was a corresponding practice, are very often
exceedingly misleading. . . . It is not that the Church at any
period whatever had any doubt that marriage was indis-
soluble . . . but it seems to me that there is no point upon
which the Western Church displayed such incompetence, for
I can call it by no other name, than in its dealing with the
question of marriage. Marriage was a matter which was left
entirely in the hands of the Church. Ultimately, as a matter
of fact, the State had to interpose, because the Church had
reduced matters to such extraordinary confusion . . . it is a
matter of fact that the Church found exceeding difficulty, and
showed exceeding reluctance, in defining what marriage was.
Therefore, while it is perfectly true to say that a valid

5 Published in Thoughts on Education,

1898 DIVORCE 323

marriage properly contracted was indissoluble, yet during the
greater part of the middle ages it was almost impossible to
say what a valid marriage was and how a valid marriage
could be contracted. ... This extraordinary complication
of the marriage relation led to violent means for reforming
and simplifying matters, but the complications were so
great that it was impossible to simplify them in the way
of putting them on a basis which was absolutely intel-
ligible. The sixteenth century in England saw very great
changes in the power of the Ecclesiastical Courts, and
as the result of these changes, the mode by which matrimony
was contracted which had never been regulated before,
was now regulated by law. ... With the disappearance of
the uncertainty, the whole question of the possibility of the
dissolution of marriage in the minds of everybody entered
upon an entirely new phase, and has to be judged to a certain
degree by an entirely different standard. With the existing
position of the law your committee was not concerned. How-
ever much we may regret it, itis not in the power of members
of this House to alter it . . . all we could do was to consider
what advice was to be given to the conscience of Christian
men and women as regards this important’ point. ... We
were distinctly of opinion that the marriage tie was such that,
if it seemed to be severed in its outward appearance by the
act of one of the parties, still the other ought conscientiously
to regard himself as bound by it just in the same degree
as if his partner had through a mental malady, been put
under restraint. There would be still the possibility of
recovery ; there would be still the possibility of return ; and
considering the sacredness of the estate of holy matrimony,
whatever might be possible from a technical or legal point of
view, still there was the higher claim of the nature of the tie
in itself. . . . But the Church of England does not undertake
to impose upon the conscience of anybody a burden which
is greater than he can bear, and your committee could only
go on to say that: “If any Christian, conscientiously believ-
ing himself or herself permitted by our Lord’s words to
remarry, determine to do so, we recommend that then
endeavour should be made to dissuade such person from
seeking marriage with the rites of the Church, legal provision
having been made for marriage by civil process... .” The
marriage service is exceedingly unsuitable to be said a second
time when there is a person still alive to whom the same
pledges were made . . . no one contemplating the marriage
service could conceive that it was composed with a view to

¥2

324 LONDON LIFE 1898

such a case. So far as that goes, we were speaking with
reference to the conscience of the individual, and it seemed to
us that that was all that we could deal with ... our advice
could only be given in our capacity as bishops speaking to
the conscience of the faithful who are committed to our
charge.’

Writing of this speech Dr. Randall Davidson (now Arch-
bishop of Canterbury) says, ‘he gave an almost new aspect
to a familiar subject by the light he threw upon it from his
wide and vivid knowledge of medizval usages and rules.’

Previous letters show that the Bishop did not definitely
forbid his clergy to use the marriage service in the case of
the innocent party in a divorce case, but left it to their
discretion.

On August 3 he was able to get off for the holiday to
which he had been counting the days more eagerly than any
schoolboy. He often said that the great advantage of living
in London was that it made the delight of getting into the
country so intense; certainly no man ever enjoyed his
holidays more than he did. We went first with our children,
his sister and his nephews and nieces to a house in the woods
near Bettws-y-coed. Wales was almost entirely new ground
to him, but he had soon thoroughly explored all the district
within reach. After three weeks he and I went off to Italy,
pausing first at Brieg, and then crossing the Simplon.

To his daughter Beatrice ‘Domo d’Ossola: August 29, 1898.

*. . On Saturday we boldly went for a long walk to the

Bel Alp . . . we rose 4,900 feet, which is twice as much as
Moel Sidbod. . . . The walk was very fine and the glacier
and snow peaks were what people like, but I think them
rather ugly. Of course it is very bracing, and the air is very
good, and so on, but it does not please me... . It is quite
splendidly Italian to-day. I hope it may remain so,’

To his son Cuthbert ‘ Bognanco : September 1, 1808.
‘We are very comfortable. There are no English people,
only middle-class Italians. ... We prowl about the mountains,

and there could be no better place for studying them. It is
a short and a narrow valley, and the road stops where we are,
at a height of 2,200 feet ; beyond that mule tracks lead straight
up the hills. There are any number of steep lateral valleys,

oe, ee on ae ee a re

1898 WALKS 325

and we wander round them. But the point of these mountains
is that you never get to the top of anything. You go on
mounting higherand higher, but thereis always beyond you the
main range of the Alps. Yesterday we took quite a mighty
walk, and mother walks splendidly, if she is not hurried.
We left at 8.45 AM. and got back at 9.15 P.M.... The
object of our walk was a series of little mountain lakes. First
we climbed steep up to a little village, then to another. Then
we struck the hillside . . . till we crossed the head of another
valley. Then we hada steep zigzag to another village. Then
in front of us was a sheer steep of rock up the sides of which
we climbed, till suddenly we came upon a little lake lying in
a pocket of the rock, which had three of them in different
stages ; it was very odd, and waterfalls dashed down from one
to the other. Up here the cattle feed in the summer time on
such grass as they can find, and I found a lonely cowboy
watching them. They were quite tame; two cows made friends
with me and followed me down to show me the easiest way.
Sometimes they came and rubbed their heads on my shoulders
and lowed with delight as they licked my hands. It was
very nice; but oh, the paths are steep and one pants along.
I do not think young folks would like it. There is no chance
of tea—and one carries one’s food in one’s pocket. There is
no hope for you if you wander from a path, and you can lose
yourself hopelessly.’

It was interesting to watch how without any guide he
soon got to understand a new mountain district. We often
lost ourselves, but he was very cautious, and though some-
times we got into difficult places, he never did anything
risky, and our walks never took us higher than to the
edges of the glaciers. Even that was higher than he liked:
he said that he did not care for the rubbish heaps of nature’s
workshops. He missed nothing on the walks; every flower
was noticed; every child, every dog was spoken to; his
enthusiasm was expressed in unmeasured language, and it
was a family joke that every walk was the nicest he had ever
taken and every view the most beautiful he had ever seen.
And the exaggeration was almost a truth, for his feeling for
nature grew stronger every day he lived. When we returned
from the walk described in the last letter he exclaimed,
‘ Well, whatever happens nothing can ever rob us of this day.’
On this journey, he started a new habit, and took to

326 LONDON LIFE 1898

composing verses as he walked. The following little poem
was finished at Bognanco:

The merchant to his office wends,
The peasant drives his plough,
Yet here we sit and talk as friends,

Unbusy I and you.

The ploughman’s muscles heave and strain,
The merchant knits his brow ;

All thought of care, all sense of pain,
Is far from me and you.

The peasant toils, the trader schemes,
Both human wants supply ;

But what avail our smiles and dreams,

’ Poor foolish you and I.

Ah, dear, the present needs we know,
But things are yet to be,

And who can say what fruit may grow
From love ’twixt you and me?

The journey begun so delightfully was one of the happiest
we ever had. For five weeks we wandered chiefly in high
Italian valleys, spending three days on the top of Monte
Motterone ; though he did not care much for the close neigh-
bourhood of snow peaks, he never wearied of such a view as
Motterone offers.

To C. D. ‘ Hotel Belvedere, Lanzo d’Intelvi : September 18, 1898.

‘There are two things about the artist’s life: first, the
exercise of his craft stimulates his perceptive powers to a
degree beyond his capacity for dealing with the results of
his perceptions: hence he is constantly bubbling over in
incomprehensible words. Secondly, artists of all sorts have
an imperfect general education ; hence they do not know how
to deal with their impressions. Everything one gets is ulti-
mately dealt with in the terms of ordered thought, which
gives a sense of relationship between one impression and
another and an end which keeps them all together. Mere
perception produces a tremendous fizz which dies away and
leaves no result. Each new perception causes equal rapture
for the time, and then disappears. This is exhausting to the
perceiver. I believe that much of the malady of the present
day comes from people not knowing how to deal with their
impressions. There must be a scheme of things somewhere
if we are to have any impressions at all—we cannot have

1898 ITALY 327

minds like lumber rooms. There must be some order. Yet
the modern mind regards order as another form of tyranny.
But Mr. has led me into great questions. Let me
return to my own perceptions of travel.

‘It is always well to have objects to pursue. I am now
engaged in an intimate search into Italian valleys. As my
holiday must be in September I am restricted to North Italy
and tolerably high places—but I find that the valleys on the
south side of the Alps will last my lifetime. They are quite
lovely and are all different and all repay ample investigation.
The charm is to stay in some place and go exploring without
any particular object. You see a little place on the hill-side
and say, “I will go there.” You start on a likely path, it
curls round the hill-side and strikes inland and crosses the
head of streams, and leads you far from where you meant to
go: but it discloses all the hidden folds of the valley : the
high meadow lands, the little villages, the places where the
cows are browsing,—all sorts of mysteries—and you walk
amid chestnut woods, by brawling streams and precipices and
waterfalls, and see all sorts of things that the casual tourist
knows not. We are now in one of them—such a lovely place.
I dare say you have gone on a steamer down the Lake of
Lugano and thought how splendid are the hills descending
steep to the lake. We are on the top of one of them. On
the terrace below the hotel we seem suspended above the
lake. But inland is a lovely valley : there are meadows and
towns on every side. We can climb a hill and look over all
the country between Lugano and Como. On all sides you
can wander in every diversity of country. Itis this wonderful
diversity which gives Italy its charm. I won’t bore you with
an account of the places I have been to; but ifever you want
to explore Italian country life, apply to me, and I will tell you
how to do it at any season of the year. I have not seen an
English person, except one yesterday on a Como steamer. I
go to places which the English know not. Even on the Lago
Maggiore I stayed at an old-fashioned inn where we had a
palatial room and were treated with all possible care, and for
four days’ stay I paid the mighty bill of sixty-eight francs.
Every night I sat in the Cortile, and talked with my landlady
and her friends, and was quite happy. I am convinced that
/as one grows older it is necessary for success in life to find
pleasure in simpler things. This is my experience, and I am
glad to find that it is so.’

On our way home we stopped at Rheims, Laonand Amiens,
that he might have a feast of architecture. He got home for

328 LONDON LIFE 1898

his ordination, and then went to Carlisle to be present at the
unveiling of a memorial put up by the town to his brother.

The monument was unveiled by the Speaker (Mr. Gully),
who spoke of the work done by Mr. Creighton for his city,
and said that, remarkable though that was, his chief claim to
the goodwill of his fellow-citizens was the spirit of ardent,
intelligent, indefatigable, civic patriotism which he brought
into his work, and with which he inspired all who worked
with him. The Bishop, when asked to say a few words,
spoke of the gratitude felt by his family at the recognition
of his brother’s services, and said ‘ Happy is the city that can
inspire strong sentiments of local patriotism in its inhabitants ;
happy is the city which by its recognition of their labours
can make that sentiment an imperishable possession.’ On
the base of the monument, a tall shaft surmounted by a figure
of St. George, is engraved the message which James Creighton
sent through his brother from his deathbed to his fellow-
citizens.’

This year our two eldest sons left Cambridge. The elder
to go and study in France in preparation for a schoolmaster’s
life, the younger to study music in Frankfort. The Bishop
had from their earliest days impressed upon his sons that
they must choose a career for themselves. ‘What do you
mean to be?’ was a question he constantly asked. When his
second son, after beginning to study to be a doctor, because
he knew how much that would please his father, decided that
he could not go on, but must make singing his profession, his
father first put before him very strongly what he considered
the disadvantages of his choice, and then left him perfectly
free to do as he liked.

To his son Walter * February 10, 1898.

‘Dearest Walter,—My only wish can be for your happi-
ness. Your life is your own life, and you must decide about
it. You may rest assured that I shall not be distressed by
your decision. I was bound to put my opinions before you :
and I know that you gave them your serious consideration ;
that is all that I have a right to ask. You have thought and
you have decided. 1 can only accept your decision and help
you to do what you want todo. But I want you to under-

1 See p. 169.

1898 RELATIONS WITH HIS SONS 329

stand that when I have accepted your decision, I do so
entirely, and will never go back on the subject. Whatever
you do, do it hard and well, and I shall be satisfied. You
are a dear good boy, and I entirely trust you. Don’t think
any more of my objections. I should be very sorry to get into
your way, or to add to your burdens. May you be happy.

‘I suppose you had better pass as many examinations
as you can. You might want to take your degree some day.
Get on as far as youcan. I suppose you had better get to
singing as soon as possible. We will make all plans in the
vacation. God bless you, my dear boy.

Something of his relations with his sons will be seen from
the following words of his eldest son:

‘My earliest recollections of my father are naturally of
him as a playfellow, and children have seldom found in their
father so ideal a playfellow as we did. Throughout his life
he always loved and thoroughly understood children, and all
children, especially his own of course, were always com-
pletely at their ease with him. There was in him none of
that condescension to their level which children are so
quick to notice, and which immediately arouses their sus-
picion. We felt that he played and romped with us because
he himself enjoyed it, and not merely to amuse us. He
seldom joined in regular games, and if we were engaged in
any such, his entrance was the signal for us immediately to cease
and clamour foraromp. And then there followed a romp such
as children love, a mélée of weird noises, unexpected
activities, and a general appearance of violence that would
have terrified a nervous mother. Description is impossible,
but any child who has enjoyed a romp in which he partici-
pated knows what a romp is at its best.

‘So it was that from the very first he won our confidence
and affection, by making us feel that he understood us so
completely. He would take us with him on his walks, at
Embleton, when he went to visit fishermen at Newton and
Craster; at Worcester and Peterborough on those delightful
excursions into the country, which were his favourite
recreation. In my case nothing fostered the sense of com-
panionship so much as these walks and expeditions. As a
child, his fun, his grotesque stories, his jokes, delighted me,
and enlivened what otherwise my indolence would have
prompted me to consider a dull constitutional. And when I
grew old enough to accompany him on his longer expe-
ditions, I was perhaps his most frequent companion. He

330 LONDON LIFE 1898

would say at breakfast, “It’s a fine morning, Cuthbert ; we’ll
take a walk. Where shall we go?” And then we would go
off to the study to consult maps and time-tables, and
“concoct a plan.” Asa rule the plan did not go further than
a train out to one station in some unexplored locality, and a
few trains back in the evening from various other stations.
Other details were left to be decided by circumstances, the
look of the country, or information extracted from the guide
book, over which he would pore during the journey out.
From these excursions I acquired an interest in ancient
buildings, architecture, and history, an eye for a short cut, an
instinct as to which cottage the church key was kept in (for
I was always sent to fetch it), an appreciation of the country,
and an enjoyment of a walk, which were simply the result of
association with one full of interest and delight in everything
he saw, and whose enjoyment was increased by sharing it
with another. The way in which he took one into his
confidence invited, almost compelled, one to share his interests,
and made one feel that one’s society really added to his
enjoyment. All this caused a delightful feeling of companion-
ship to grow up between us, and made me feel in a peculiar
and personal way that he knew me and understood me, and
even that I knew and understood him, that it was no effort
to him to put himself in our place and become as one of us.
Throughout his life I felt that he understood me as no one
else did, that to impose upon him was impossible, that he
knew alike the good and the bad in me, and that his estimate
of my character and actions was invariably true and just.
There may have been times when as a child I wished that
his affection had in it more of the element of condoning
forbearance which I noticed in other parents who tended to
spoil their children. But it is impossible for me to express
what I now feel that I owe to the fact that his love was
based on absolute justice and unerring insight. A trivial
reminiscence will illustrate what I mean. I remember once,
as a child, being shut up in a room for some misconduct,
and sitting there in a condition of rebellious obstinacy, trying
to foster my sense of injury in spite of the reproaches of
conscience. There was in the room a photograph of my
father, and when this caught my eyes I seemed to see him
looking at me with a stern reproachful look that penetrated
into my heart, and, sweeping aside all the excuses I had been
constructing for myself, made me realise my fault at once.
And so it always was; the futility of excuses became
obvious in his presence. With an almost merciless scorn and

1898 RELATIONS WITH HIS SONS 331

sternness he would point out the folly and meanness of
one’s misdeeds, and the contrast they presented to the high
aims and lofty ideal which he never failed to demand of those
dear to him.

‘This by itself would convey a false idea of him as a
father. The exacting sternness which he showed on these
occasions lay hidden at other times beneath his fund of
tender sympathy and the affectionate interest with which he
would enter into and talk to me about my boyish occupa-
tions and amusements, a sympathy which made it only the
more bitter to have incurred his displeasure.

‘Our religious education he chiefly entrusted to our
mother ; but in all our intercourse with him he made us feel
the high standard which he demanded of us, and the high
ideal at which our Christian profession required us to aim.
There was none of that conventional talk about religion
which is apt to seem so unreal to children, but an unquestion-
ing assumption of its acceptance, and a persistent demand
for the fulfilment of its obligations. The chief characteristic
of his relationship with his children was the combination of
sympathy and sternness which made us regard him both as
our most delighful playfellow and companion, and also as
our most exacting critic and our sternest judge.

‘The other characteristic which strikes me especially, as I
look back on my relations with him, and which marked, I
think, his treatment of all those who came under his influence,
is his respect for individual liberty, which showed itself in an
aversion to exercise what is known as personal influence, and
which made it his chief object to inculcate and encourage
_in others a realisation of their individuality and personal
responsibility. “It’s a free country.” “Do as you please.”
“ Don’t if you would rather not.” “That’s a point which you
must decide for yourself.” All these phrases we recall as
characteristic of him, and they indicate his deliberate
attitude towards others, and a policy of treatment which
I believe he consciously carried out towards us. He was
convinced that each must learn from his own experience the
folly of his ways, and that he-had a certain right to be
allowed to do so, and consequently he showed himself
averse to interfering with our liberty of choice and action.
He made it his object to develop the individuality of each
one of us; he did not try to impress his views upon us, but
to induce us to think for ourselves, and form our own
opinions. He would talk with me when I was still a
boy on questions that interested him, and problems which

332 LONDON LIFE 1898

puzzled him, as if I were one whose opinions were worth
having.

‘But, in spite of this characteristic respect for the right of
the individual to control his own actions and opinions and
to buy his own experience, he did not in the least degree
hold himself aloof or fail to make his authority felt when
necessary. On certain small points, such as punctuality at
prayers and meals, he was sternly insistent. Yet here again
his method was characteristic of what I have tried to point
out. He would say, “This house is a hotel, there are certain
regulations which must be observed, and if you don’t wish
to observe them you had better go somewhere else.” Simi-
larly with regard to opinions: you were free to hold what
opinions you liked, but so wads he, and if you were more
interested in trying to evade conclusions unpleasant to your-
self which followed from the opinions he expressed, than in
trying to understand them, and exerted yourself more to
controvert his views blusteringly than to learn the truth of
them, you brought upon yourself a scathing discomfiture.
Yet his object was not repressive but educational. “A mus-
tard plaster is the best educational instrument I know,” he
more than once said tome. “It sets up irritation, and that
impresses what you have to say, and then when the irritation
has passed away, what you have said is thought over, and it
is seen that there is something in it.” I realise now how
much I learnt from him in this way, though at the time the
unpleasantness of the process blinded me to its educational
beneficence. Again, though you were free to choose your
own course, he was also free to criticise. I think his criticism
was often more effective than the most decided prohibition.

‘J have tried to indicate a relationsliip between us which
continued to grow in intimacy from the time when as a child
I regarded him as my most delightful playfellow, all through
the time when as a boy I felt him to be both in the fullest
sense my companion and also my severest critic, to the time
when as a man I was beginning to find in him a friend such
as none other could be, whose advice and help would be my
guide in all difficulties, whose society was the most stimulating
influence of my life, and whose sympathy and affection were
my greatest blessing. I cannot recall that I was ever con-
scious of any necessity for a readjustment of our relations to
one another; rather I seem to see marks of the tactful
insight which enabled him to adapt his attitude towards me
to my gradual development. There was never any break in
the sense of companionship with him and in the complete

1808 RELIGIOUS EDUCATION 333

confidence which he knew how to inspire. His influence
only increased as I grew more capable of appreciating its
value and character.’

During the summer of this year the Bishop had given
much thought to the question of religious education in
elementary schools, and finally, with the Bishop of Roches-
ter, had drawn up a letter to be circulated amongst the
clergy and laity of the Church of England within the
school-board district of London. This letter he hoped might
form a basis for a common policy on the part of Church
people. Init he said : ‘Undenominational teaching rests upon
an attempt, which cannot be ultimately satisfactory, to teach
such religious truths as no Christian objects to. It is obvious
that a fairer and juster plan would be to teach such religious
truths as any body of Christians desired for their own
children.’ He tried to lift the matter out of the old contro-
versies. ‘Our desire is that the question should be regarded
as an educational question apart from controversies which
place other considerations before the welfare of the child,
which is to us the sole object to be pursued.’ His practical
proposal was that ‘ the wishes of parents be consulted about
the education of their children, and that every child in Eng-
land should receive instruction in the religious beliefs of the
denomination to which its parents belong.’ He wished that
the first steps in this direction should be taken by way of
supplement to the existing system in the board schools, so
‘that experiment might show how the practical difficulties
could best be overcome, and ‘the religious instruction at pre-
sent given in board schools be disturbed as little as possible.’ !

He wanted church people to consider seriously the ques-
tion of granting facilities for other religious teaching in their
schools, and hoped that they would accept the principles
he had laid down. But he wished discussion to be free,
and would not be present at the meeting of the Voluntary
Schools Union, where the Bishops’ letter was to be considered.

To Mr. John J. Taylor (Secretary of the Voluntary Schools Union)
‘Fulham Palace: October 4, 1898.
‘I think that your meeting will have to consider how far
it is satisfied with the letter of the Bishop of Rochester and
? The whole letter is given in Appendix II.

334 LONDON LIFE 1898

myself. For this purpose it is not well that we should be
present. Nor do I think that we should for some time say
anything more on the subject. If you can organise church-
men on that basis, well and good: something may be done.
But I venture to think that the policy there indicated should
be accepted altogether—i.e. not only the practical conclusion,
but the recognition of the existing state of things on which

it is founded.’ 2
‘ Fulham Palace: November 28, 1808.

‘Dear Mr. Taylor,—The letter was addressed to church-
men in the London School Board district, and primarily con-
cerns them. But many people feel that their action would
affect the rest of England, and doubt about taking a step in
advance which would at once be quoted as generally applic-
able. This is a question which I cannot settle for them.
They must think it out. Can they hope to advance denomi-
national education by trying to limit it to the Church? This
is a matter of common sense.

‘ The letter, however, dealt with a policy for London. In
London we may demand denominational facilities, without
giving them, on the ground that we wish all to demand them
in the board schools, and that these are accessible to all.
We need not offer facilities at first till we know that they
will be needed in our schools. If they are, we are prepared

to grant them.’
s ‘Fulham Palace: December 3, 1898.

‘Dear Mr. Taylor,— When it comes to the point of action
the policy of Churchmen always breaks down before the
charge that they want to get everything and give nothing.

‘I never concealed from myself the difficulty that a pos-
sible policy for London involved concessions all over the
country. But I am sure that in country districts facilities
would only be used very rarely, and then it would be the
clergyman’s fault.

‘But it is inevitable that many will shrink from any step
which might seem to give away the exclusive possession for
religious purposes of country schools.

‘I think that the question is most likely to be solved by
rate aid universally.’

The following letters also bear on the education question:

To Mr. T. E. Horsfall ‘Fulham Palace: January 3, 1898.

‘Dear Mr. Horsfall,—I substantially agree with your
views. They put the religious question as the basis of the
educational question, This has always seemed to me the one

1898 RELIGIOUS EDUCATION 335

point to make—I believe that the Church, throughout this
wearisome dispute, has been maintaining a true ideal of the
nature of education. My great hope has been in the possi-
bility of inducing right-minded nonconformists to see this.
If the advocates of religious education would agree, we could
do what we liked. The basis of agreement must be the
right of the parent to have his child taught the religion which
he wishes. I have always been in favour of this solution.
I further think that an elastic curriculum adapted to local
needs is necessary. I grieved over the wreckage of the
Education Bill of ’95, because it contained the outlines of a
Local Authority. Without such an Authority we shall not
advance.’

To the Rev. J. D. Carnegie (Congregational minister, Leicester)
‘London House: April 5, 1898.

‘My dear Mr. Carnegie —You ask me a question which
is perpetually before the mind of all workers for Christ. The
fact is that we have the boys in hand during the school
period, then we lose them, and have to pick them up again
with difficulty.

‘I do not want to go into controversial matters ; but I
increasingly feel that, if the aim of secular education is to
hand on a boy to continuation or technical classes, the aim
of religious education ought to be to attach him definitely to
some Christian organisation, which should care for him.
This method of care should be better adapted to its purpose.
We need boys’ clubs attached to every church, into which
boys leaving school and going to work should be naturally
drafted. These clubs ought to be organised with a view to
the actual facts of a boy’s life: and ought not to make at
first too great demands on their spiritual powers, which
require special training during the period of transition from
the discipline of school to almost complete freedom. We
have not yet thought this out sufficiently with reference to
human nature. Dr. Paton of Nottingham is working at this
subject with much success; I would advise you to refer to
him.’

On October 9 the Bishop unveiled a window erected in
Gray’s Inn Chapel in memory of Archbishop Laud. He
said of him:

‘Laud was a man of great ideas, and a man who was

unflinching and unwavering in his pursuit of truth . . . his
ideal of the Church of England was probably higher and

336 LONDON LIFE 1898

truer than that of any other man, certainly of his time... .
Personally, he was large-minded and tolerant, but he was
prepared to use intolerance as a means of establishing a
system of tolerance. . . . He upheld great principles of
spiritual freedom, which were as yet imperfectly understood ;
but he upheld them by methods which threatened the very
foundations of English liberty. . . . Spiritual truth must
make its way by conviction.’ !

On October 19 he preached at the service held in St.
Paul’s Cathedral by the medical guild of St. Luke, and
dined two days afterwards at the festival dinner of the guild.
In response to Sir Dyce Duckworth’s remark that such a
magnificent service as that in St. Paul’s could not have been
held in any other country, he said :

‘It is indeed characteristic of England that people of all
sorts can combine round the Church of England without any
feeling of hostility. When I have talked with men of science
in other countries, I have found that they considered it
impossible for a man who is a thinker to be in any sense
whatever in friendship with the Church ; that this is not the
case in this country makes me most hopeful for England and
for the mission which she has in the world,’

He had not been one of those who received with a sneer
the proposal made by the Emperor of Russia in the course of
this year, that the great powers of Europe should consider the
possibility of a gradual disarmament ; and on October 26, he
took the chair at a peace meeting in Exeter Hall. He said
that we ought to be proud of the growth of beneficent ideas,
and that, though there must be many discouragements in the
effort to bridge over the gulf between the ideal and the real,
yet an enormous stride is taken when this process is begun.

‘Such a stride has been taken in the great question of
promoting peace, by the proposals of the Russian Emperor. . . .
Let me ask you for a moment to consider what the proposal
for disarmament implies. Put shortly it is this :—The exis-
tence of huge military establishments, and the prominence
naturally given to them in the ordinary life of a country
create in the popular mind a conception that the world is
regulated by force only. Now in our internal affairs we in
England have been foremost in striving to assert that the
world ought to be regulated by justice. The Russian

1 The sermon is published in Zhe Mind of St. Peter and other Sermons.

1898 PEACE MEETING 337

Emperor pleads that a better chance should be given for
applying this principle to international affairs also.’

He left the Emperor’s proposals to be treated of by other
speakers, and concluded :

‘I will say no more on the subject of our meeting. But
I must confess to you a peculiarity of my own... . I never
like to tender advice about large subjects without ‘carefully
considering what I am doing in my own sphere to carry out
the principles which I recommend. If we labour for peace,
we must remember that like other good things it cannot be
given us from the top, but requires our own efforts at the
bottom. The first step towards peace is that we should each
of us try to acquire a pacific temper. I sometimes wonder if
the English people are quite successful in impressing other
countries with the pacific disposition which we know they
possess. There is a certain danger in thinking that our
character as good-hearted, well-meaning fellows is so generally
obvious that we need not pay much attention to the way
we express it. News travels fast nowadays. It is not
always quite accurate. Opinions are immediately formed,
and next day are spread throughout the civilised world... .
I should like to plead that true wisdom lies in stating opinions
moderately, with due reserve and strict attention to courtesy.
Let other and less powerful nations bluster. We are great
enough and strong enough to show them a more excellent
way. Weare too established a firm to be perpetually greedy
of small gains. We need not be anxious to carry fresh
acquisitions to our imperial account. We can afford to trust
to the capacity of the British race to hold a foremost place in
the business of the world. I think we might cultivate a
little more sympathy with other people, and show a little
more generosity in our criticism of them.’

On November 2, he spoke at Peterborough in aid of the
Cathedral Restoration Fund, and dwelt on the immense
influence the Cathedral had exercised upon his mind. ‘ Never
did I go into the Cathedral and look about, but that I learnt
something new, received some new idea, discovered some new
act of deftness, some application of means to ends which
tells the story so ennobling to us of the perpetual, the con-
tinuous activity of mankind.’ To him it had indeed been a
living building.

VOL. II. Zz

338 LONDON LIFE 1898

‘The more I meditated about it,’ he said, ‘the more I used
to see in it not only ofthe better but also of the more common
and ordinary motives which combine to make up the English
character, and the building itself constantly grew before my
mind in its significance as being an epitome of all that
England was in the past, and all that England was aspiring
to be in the present.’

On November 4, he lectured on Heroes! at the request
of the Social and Political Education League, and pointed
out the dangers and the limitations of hero worship. This
lecture was largely the result of his reflections on Lord
Acton’s view that great men are almost always bad men.”
Some of the things he Said sound like the result of his
own experience: ‘ The life of a ruler or a statesman is always
complicated, and he cannot simplify problems at his pleasure.’
‘It is seldom in the conduct of affairs that a man can do his
best; he is generally driven to pursue the second best as
being the only practicable course.’ ‘There are great dangers
attaching to the possession of power. Those who are en-
trusted with it soon discover how far-reaching those dangers
are. It is a real support to them to feel that they will be
judged by a higher standard than that of their immediate
success.’

On November 21, he presided at a conference on economic
training ; on December 5, he was at the opening of the new
buildings of the London Library, and on the 19th he went up
to Liverpool to give an address at the centenary celebration
of the Liverpool Athenzum.* He had been persuaded to
do this because Mr. Alfred Booth, instead of trusting to a
letter, had travelled all the way from Liverpool to ask him to
come, and he felt that such zeal deserved to succeed.

These are examples of the things he did outside the
regular course of his episcopal work. During these three
months before Christmas he was also giving his addresses
on ‘the Position of the Church of England’ to the ruri-
decanal conferences. He was present at many public
dinners, amongst others the Guildhall and the Royal Society
dinners, and was entertained by the Vagabonds’ Club. He

+ Published in Lectures and Addresses. 2 See vol. i. p. 372.
* This address is published in 7houghts on Education.

1898 LONDON UNIVERSITY COMMISSION 339

spoke at meetings of the Church Historical Society, of the
Police Court Mission, and of many other organisations.

The ‘ Westminster Gazette’ said of him, ‘though in one
way or another he speaks about six times a day, he is never
at a loss, not only for words, but for interesting words, and he
always speaks as if the subject of the hour was the only one
he had on his mind. But, can his heart beat with his tongue
on all these varied occasions?’ ‘The secret of his power was
probably not only his genuine interest in the subject which
claimed him for the moment, but even more his strong
sympathy with those to whom he was speaking, which made
him able to bring up out of the store of his knowledge and
thought something that fitted each occasion.

This autumn had brought a new task, for he had been
appointed a member of the London University Commission.

Lord Davey, chairman of the commission, says of his
work there :

‘On the rare occasions on which I differed from him, I did
so with great misgiving and in one case at least was con-
vinced that his view was the right one to take. His sugges-
tions were most valuable in solving a difficulty or subject of
difference amongst our colleagues by some middle course.
Even in the matter of draftsmanship, he was ready with an
apt phrase to express our meaning. What I was most
struck with was his intimate aquaintance with the various
centres of London teaching and the large way in which
he looked at things. In settling the list of recognised schools
and teachers in the new faculty of theology, I was very
much impressed by his attitude towards the Jewish and
nonconformist theology. He was as anxious as any of us
that the new faculty should be comprehensive and tend to
the promotion of learning and research and not merely ortho-
doxy. He was always on the side of comprehensiveness, of
making the reorganised university as wide and modern as
possible, and fitting it to meet the demands both of practical
needs and business.’

Mr. Bailey Saunders, the secretary of the commission

says :

‘Of the practical qualities he displayed, none seemed to

me more remarkable or more conducive to the dispatch of

business than his talent for furthering the progress of debate.

This was most conspicuous when, in the chairman’s absence,
za

340 | LONDON LIFE 1898

he was called to preside. He possessed a singular capacity
for giving the discussion a fresh and invigorating turn ; he had
many a shrewd and humorous comment to make as argu-
ments were raised, and he could listen with patience ; but he
knew when a point had been sufficiently laboured, and more
especially where rival interests were strongly or persistently
asserted, his was often the suggestion that most rapidly
cleared the way. If by common consent he was adroit in
overcoming difficulties, I should say that his success sprang
not so much from any affection for weak or hasty compromises,
still less from a cynical indifference to the issue, as from a
real desire to be comprehensive and tolerant. In this respect
neither his connexion with the older universities nor his
ecclesiastical position inspired him with any prejudice against
certain tendencies in the University of London. On the
contrary, they made him more eager to consider and satisfy
its special needs. In the settlement of all the important
questions, in the drafting of the new constitution, in the
admission of the first schools, and in the recognition of the
first teachers of the university he took an important part... .
Where theology was concerned, he frankly recognised the
principle that the university was to be free from any dog-
matic or sectarian restrictions. With one exception the
schools admitted for theology alone were nonconformist, and
took their place in accordance with the recommendations of
a previous commission. Both in the recognition of the
teachers, however, and in the formation of a faculty the
Bishop showed every desire to keep to the spirit of those
recommendations, and I shall not easily forget a pleasant
hour which I spent with him at Fulham settling the list of
names, and how readily he sanctioned any suggestion that
tended to make them broadly representative of every denomi-
nation, every college, and every subject of study. Whether
the teachers were churchmen, dissenters or Jews did not
matter, if only their position or the instruction which they
gave was of a kind to be recognised. A remark which
he made to me was, I felt, in his opinion particularly
applicable to the study of theology—namely that there was
a great difference between theology and religion.’

The Bishop describes how another unexpected labour came
upon him this year:
‘Just as I had returned from a holiday, and my mind

was in that generally amiable and confiding condition which
a holiday is intended to create, I received a telegram, de-

1898 THE CHURCH CONGRESS 341

manding an immediate answer, which asked if I would
welcome the Church Congress in London. I had no time to
consult any of my advisers, whose duty, as you know, is to
curb my excessive benevolence, and I felt that I might be
causing inconvenience if I sent a selfish refusal. So I left
myself in the hands of the committee, though I reflected
with a sigh that I was weakly parting with one of the
traditional immunities of the see of London. Indeed when
I was appointed to that office, and was searching for some
compensations, one of the thoughts which crossed my mind
was, “ Well, at least, I am safe from the labours of a Church
Congress.”’

He used to say that the Church Congress had been sprung
upon him. From December onwards Church Congress com-
mittees were added to his other engagements.

During all this time he was constantly struggling with
the ritual difficulties, and was being abused and attacked in
public and in private. Once he was even mobbed on coming
out of a church in Bethnal Green by a body of roughs, who
raised the ‘no popery’ cry. He wrote to his niece, ‘I have to
go my way and be abused by people who want to stamp on
someone else, or rather want me to stamp for them.’

Two Sundays with friends in the country, where he
enjoyed long walks in the glowing autumn woods, were his
sole relaxation during these anxious months.

LETTERS 1898

To Professor Collins (now Bishop of Gibraltar)
‘Fulham: January 15, 1898.
‘Dear Collins,—I have not yet seen Vaughan’s document.!
I do not know if that controversy is worth carrying on. I
certainly think, if it is, that the whole theological position
must be faced. Of course the Archbishops answered the Pope
because we were attacked. But the English episcopate will
not begin a controversy with Vaughan. It must come from
some other source, if at all.
‘Fulham Palace: February 9, 1898.
‘My dear Collins, — Your paper seems admirable.
Vaughan has written for the Roman-minded Anglicans, who
hanker after a logical system founded on authority. His

' A Vindication of the Bull ‘ Apostolicze Cure.’

342 LONDON LIFE 1898

arguments, as you show, begin and end with the assumption
of the existence of such authority as necessary to produce a
desired result. He amends the Pope by dragging in every-
thing which is irrelevant to the exact issue, and trying to
assume the correctness of the whole body of Roman theology
as it now exists, as though it had existed always. I wonder
if Romans really believe that, or if it is only a convenient
assumption. While they posit development as necessary to
produce what is, they never admit the operation of the
process. The Marian bishops must have taken the same
view that they do: and so on universally. This makes their
history impossible.

To Lady Gr ey , ‘Fulham Palace: January 20, 1898.

‘Your letter gave me great delight. I rejoice to think of
you as restored to a great degree. But I think there is only
one stage between youth and age—it is when one feels if the
grass is wet before sitting down upon it. The bore is having
to think about one’s physical and material self at all. The
question of degree does not matter much.

‘I am not going to be busy; it is a bad habit, and must
be suppressed. I purpose to find time to come and drop in
upon you when you don’t want me. I can utter no more
ferocious threat. It is awful to think of the number of
persons who come to see me whom I don’t want tosee. I
have contracted a rapid way of getting rid of them by bring-
ing them to the point, and giving an answer at once. Of
course this is not what people wish: their desire is to use
you as an anvil on which they beat out themselves. But
then, as a rule, there is wonderfully little to beat out, and it is
so thin that it hurts the anvil... .

‘Edward must take in hand the reorganisation of the
Liberal party. Really things can never go on unless the
game is properly played. The whole of our system of politics
is founded on the supposition that alternative policies are
before the public, and that it can choose. But you can’t
make a policy out of other people’s mistakes. It must be a
policy of your own, and must have contents.

‘There is a question which occupies my mind, so far as I
have a mind Jeft. It is, what do we mean by liberty? We
shall only make a new start in politics when we decide that
question. The political history of England during this
century is briefly this: Englishmen have carried out their
conception of liberty into all their institutions without
deciding what that conception was. Now we are all free, and

1898 LETTERS 343

we don’t know where we are. We won't find out till we have
decided what liberty is. There is no idea on which to
construct an ideal. Think for a moment. Socialism can
only rest on a vigorous system of discipline, which can only
be tyranny, if it is not accepted on moral grounds from
within. Yet the socialists dare not say so; they dare not
even hint at the necessity of discipline. Everything is
pursued and recommended on the grounds that liberty means
doing what one likes. We are living on political habits
formed in the past. They are fast passing away because
they rest on little in the present. How are we to get some-
thing? That is my present problem.

To Dr. Garnett ‘Fulham Palaee: March 7, 1898.

‘ Thank you very much for your book.' It is not a “com-
pendium” such as I was contemplating, but a collection of
criticism. Literary history stands on a basis of its own. It
has to supply enough information to bridge over the gulf
between the point of view of the past and that of the present.
It is curious how little that process is needed in English
literature. Chaucer, Shakespeare, Milton, need no explan-
ation of that kind. It is only when you reach Dryden and
Pope that cause has to be shown why they should be read.

‘I was interested in talking this over in reference to
Italian literature with an Italian friend. He said that
instruction in the history of Italian literature was the most
important part of an Italian’s education. Their literature
at every point was connected with mental and social life
which were different from those of the present. It had not
struck me so forcibly before, but it is true that Italian history
‘and literature are more intelligible to an Englishman than to
an Italian of to-day.

To C. D. London House: March 24, 1898.

‘You have raised a question about the religion of the
Mahommedans which always interests me. My own ex-
perience of them has been disappointing. I did not see
much religion in Algeria. It seems to me that they get
credit for two things: Oriental fatalism and disregard of life ©
(in themselves signs of low civilisation), which are counted
to them as faith : and strong race hatred (again a sign of low
civilisation), which is counted to them as religious zeal. I
mean the question is: How far are religions clothing of
natural qualities? How far are they motives and powers

1 A History of Italian Literature,

344 LONDON LIFE 1898

which transform these natural qualities? I think Mahom-
medanism is a mere clothing ; it is an expression of the best
that can be made of Orientals, leaving their life as itis. Now
Christianity has no reference to special modes of thought or
life : and moreover puts a most tremendous strain on human
nature, presenting no definite end of worship or of life.

ao G. Hi. * Fulham Palace : June 17, 1898.

‘. .. It seems to me that your health is like mine: we
have too much to think about. Only I never worry. When
a thing is done I have done with it. It is useless to take
more responsibility than human shoulders can bear. We
can only do our best as occasion offers. We are never
entirely wise or entirely right» The only thing to do is to
try and be wiser. People like to avoid that by disclaiming
their own responsibility, and voting themselves exceptional
persons. We all have different natural gifts, different
temperaments, and different temptations. But our business
is to make the most of ourself: and to take care of our weak
points. A man with a weak chest would be foolish if he did
not wrap up properly. So we have todo with our character.
It may be a nuisance: but it is not such a nuisance as
catching a fearful cold and being ill for a month. But
people’s characters have more severe illnesses than their
bodies, only they do not feel it in the same way. Take
care of yourself and ,and cheer up. Remember that
cheerfulness is a virtue.

‘Fulham Palace: October 13, 1898.

‘... You must always expect to be misunderstood in
life. One has to make up one’s mind on one’s own re-
sponsibility, and trust to time to show that one was right. I
dare say one will find out that one was not so right as one
thought, but one can only do one’s best, and be ready to do
better if one sees how. So cheer yourself up with that
reflection. There is nothing but “patient perseverance in
well-doing” to put the foolishness of others to rebuke,

To Mrs. T. H. Ward ‘ Bettws-y-Coed : August 5, 1898.

‘My dear Mary,—The month of August enables one to
discharge duties long neglected because impossible. I have
just had time to read through “ Helbeck ” with the attention
which it deserved. Everybody else has done so ages ago,
and my remarks will be flat and stale. The book interested
me greatly. I think you have got hold of a very real tragedy,
and have worked it out with admirable precision. The war

1898 - LETTERS 345

of the intellect and the feelings is perhaps the deepest form
which the tragic motive takes in our time. You have
displayed the conflict in itself—Romanism and indifference
are not to you things in themselves, but are merely two
modes of looking at life, each to some degree accidental, but
embodying positions from which it is hard to move merely
on receiving notice from the feelings. Moreover you have
raised another question, the need of discipline for character,
and the source whence such discipline is to be obtained. It
is not so much that Helbeck is a Roman, and Laura is in-
different: but Helbeck is a character formed by a system
which especially aims at forming character. Laura has never
been formed at all. The excellent impulses of the free spirit
dash and are broken against the power of character even
when formed upon an exaggerated and unintelligent basis.
Of course if Laura had possessed any system of her own,
she could have dealt with another system: she could have
measured distances and determined points of agreement.
But no system will not do.

‘J think this is a great truth for our generation to learn.
There must be some system for everybody. The attitude of
superior critical capacity for valuing the defects of all systems
will not do. Every life has to be built upon something. If
not, the clash against a life that has a foundation is fatal.

‘But I am wandering into a sermon of my own a propos
of your book, which is not fair... . It is a wet day: there
is a row on every side of me. I am beginning to be a new
creature. I think it is worth while to live in London for the
joy of going out into the country. Things are only under-
stood by being felt, and are felt in the way of comparison.
’ We are all engaged in that process.’

‘ Bettws-y-Coed: August 10, 1898.

‘Dear Mary,—lIt is a rainy day; one enjoys a rainy day,
because it curbs one’s external energies and gives space for
letters. I said nothing about the love story in “ Helbeck,”
which I thought was admirably done, and with very delicate
touches. But then its beauty and grace were overshadowed by
the main situation—I see no way out of that difficulty. One
feels that they Aad to fall in love, and this interferes with the
sense of inevitableness which is necessary for the full enjoy-
ment of a love story. I know you will say that it need not :
but every branch of art rests on preconceptions, and the
perception of an end takes off from the spontaneity of the
process. But all the same the development of the love-story
was excellent, and you had obviously gone with it... .

346 LONDON LIFE 1898

‘T am interested in your question. You know that I have
almost a craze for liberty. But liberty must be claimed and
used by the individual amid the systems by which he is
surrounded. His claim is that the systems of the majority
should be also adapted to the small minority. But that
minority rests upon culture and intelligence. These are not
the possessions of the multitude. It always seems to me
that the intelligent person must frame his own life, and use
what he finds outside for his own purposes. He listens
unmoved to all sorts of opinions because he has his own.
He cannot be more than an influence, a spirit which rises
above the inevitable differences of one-sided expressions of
opinions. But he trangresses his ré/e if he wishes to make
everything new to fithimself. Knowledge silently transforms
systems. I do not know that it can wisely create its own.
If it does so, it only creates an ideal for which it is useless to
strive by actual conflict. It is powerful within, as expanding
and deepening, comprehending. Its own creations are un-
satisfying, for it neglects the broad foundations to emphasise
points of detail.

‘The tendency in England has been for all systems to
grow more definite lately. This is due to the greater interest
in the lower classes. All elementary teaching has to be
definite. Simple minds do not appreciate fine shades.
Systems are useful in proportion to their strength.

‘Religious bodies are now striving to hold the working
classes. The consequence is a general recrudescence of
unintelligence, an interest in externals. Intelligence will
revive doubtless ; it always does. But it must make its own
way and bring its influence to bear by using what it can and
teaching external systems to recognise their inward meaning.’

To Professor H. Sidgwick ‘ Bettwys-y-Coed : August 13, 1898.

‘Dear Sidgwick,—Holiday has given me time to read the
“ Essays,” ! which you were good enough to send me. They
have interested me very much. Your analysis of “ Public
Morality” clears up several matters. I think that Acton
does not face the difference you have pointed out between
the principles on which a statesman may act and those on
which a historian ought to judge him. But this raises the
further question of the relation between these standards. It
seems to me that the critic should first do his best to enter
into the position of his subject and see things as he saw them.
But he has the advantage of seeing how these things turned

\ Practical Etkics, a collection of essays and addresses by H. Sidgwick.

1898 LETTERS 347

out, and what was the result of the actiontaken. Here, how-
ever, he must be rather careful and not introduce his own pre-
suppositions. But there is a point which you have not touched
on—the moral influence on his generation of a public man.
Take Bismarck for instance: he lowered the tone of European
diplomacy. How is this to be set against his positive achieve-
ments? The sort of moral judgment I am frequently led to is
of this sort: “ His aims were for the good of his country as it
was then understood, its territorial extension &c. &c., but in
pursuing these aims he told so many lies, and did so many
brutal actions, and showed such an example of personal
selfishness, that I do not know whether he did more good to
the material interests of his country or harm to its spiritual
growth.”

‘The educational effect of the doings of a prominent man
is enormous: how are we to appraise it with other qualities
and achievements ?

‘I quite agree with you about clerical veracity. It is
curious how the moral sense of the community has practically
ruled out Rashdall’s view.

‘I am enjoying this place very much, and feel a different
person. It is worth while being in London, from an epicurean
point of view, to enjoy a holiday.’

To the Hon. and Rev. A. T. Lyttelton (on his appointment as
Bishop of Southampton) * Rheims : September 23, 1898.

‘ Dear Lyttelton,—I am glad of your news, though not so
glad as I would like to be—because it is rather a disappoint-
ment to myself personally. I sorely wanted you to help me
‘in West London, where the Bishop of Marlborough must
soon cease his labours, and where you would have been ideal
—but that must pass with other things. So I will congratu-
late you heartily, and can only say I think it much nicer to
be a suffragan bishop than a diocesan bishop. You have all
the sweets and escape the bitters of the episcopal office. . .
Therefore make the best of it while you may. Of course you
will cease to be my examining chaplain—I can only express
my deep gratitude for what you have done for me in that
capacity.

‘We are just returning from a lovely holiday. We have
not had a drop of rain since we left England; and we have
been in places where there were no English. If ever you want
information about holidays south of the Alps, please apply to
me. [am gathering a large amount of knowledge on that
subject. I hope to return home vigorous, but hefore Christ-

348 LONDON LIFE 1898

mas I shall be sorely reduced again. Let me recommend
you to take holidays of a week from time to time: change is
absolutely necessary. Also once a week have a good long
sleep. These are practical suggestions which experience has
taught me.’

To his niece Winifred * October 14, 1898.

‘Somebody sent me a book from which I copy a sentence
which has much truth: “What a man is constantly imagin-
ing to himself, ¢zat he becomes. The prevalent habit of his
will is the distinctive character of every man.”

‘Does not that explain what I try to say about your
dreaming vaguely? Nothing is really vague: or rather vague
dreaming tends to produce vague action. Character is ex-
pressed in wz//: and will is the thing to be aimed at.’

(Written at a meeting of the British Museum Trustees) * October 22.

‘You speak of the difficulty of developing one’s will. It
is hard, and I always think that the Epistle of to-morrow is
so stirring on that point: “See that ye walk circumspectly
(i.e. carefully, accurately), not as fools, but as wise.” It is this
accuracy which is so difficult: to do the thing one wants to
do and not something else. For this purpose one must know
what one wants and make up one’s mind. Of course you by
nature belong to the class of those who wait for an impulse
from without ; this is useful if it stirs one up to do what one
has determined from within. But an impulse, a pleasure, an
enjoyment, must have a direction beforehand along which
they can carry us. Otherwise we merely stagger a little, and
then stand where we were before. The object of life is to get
on, not to stand.

‘The Prince is talking loud about Bismarck, which is not
part of the meeting, and I dare not listen, as it is not ad-

:
dressed to me. ‘ November 11, 1898.

‘Ruskin’s main idea is that beauty is goodness, and
that art is morality ; and that you will make men good
through teaching them to admire beauty. I am afraid that
this is is not entirely true. There is even a moral danger in
the love of beauty for itself alone. The feeling may uplift or
it may debase, according to previous habit of mind.’

To his nephew Basil ‘ British Museum: December 10, 1898.
‘I have been very busy for a long time, and am looking
forward to a holiday at Christmas time. . . . I do. not know

that anything of great interest has been happening to me

1898 LETTERS 349

lately, except that I sat next to the Sirdar (Lord Kitchener)
one night at dinner, and found him very nice. He is a very
straightforward soldier, very much bored at having to endure
so many dinners, and very glad that he was going back to
Egypt. He said that he would rather fight many battles
than make speeches. I quite sympathised with him.’

To Mr. H. S. Harrison ‘Fulham Palace: December 10, 1808.

‘Dear Sir,—The English people generally are given to
speak out their opinions wise and foolish alike. The most
foolish are the loudest. We have also a habit of regarding
our differences as of vital importance when they really are
not. The points in dispute are the best way of teaching
the one faith to the English people. Rites and ceremonies
are merely the means of teaching the truth: they are not
the truth itself.

‘The English people are committed to the care of the
English Church. From time to time they express their
opinion about the mode of teaching which is applied to them.
The Church of Rome is a small body in England, which
stands in no relation to the religious life of the nation. It is
quite impossible that any considerable number of Englishmen
should be Roman Catholics. To join yourself to that Church
is simply to stand on one side and cut yourself off from your
part in striving to do your duty for the religious future of
your country. That duty may be at times difficult and
unpleasant. Duty generally is so. But we must not shirk
it on that account, or try to find peace for ourselves by stand-
ing on one side.’

. To Mr. F. Statham ‘Fulham Palace: December 14, 1898.

‘My dear Sir,—You are right in thinking that pressure on
my time has prevented me from reading your book! before
now. I can thank you very sincerely for sending it to me.
It is the result of much experience, personal experience, of
the difficulties of thinking straight on religious matters, It
is an impossible claim to take up a detached, impartial out-
side attitude to any subject which is intimately connected
with individual life. But you insist on the obligation to think
as fairly and impartially about religion as one can. It has
always seemed to me that the preconceptions of the critical
mind need examination just as much as the preconceptions
of the credulous mind—Human morality would disappear
before the treatment which is sometimes dealt to revealed
religion.

' Free Thought and True Thought.

350 LONDON LIFE 1898

‘Your final conclusion is that that reflection, fairly
carried out, produces an attitude towards life on the part of
the earnest inquirer which he can recognise as similar to that
which Christianity aims at producing. After all the impor-
tant thing is a man’s attitude towards life. Some may attain
it after severe struggles ; others by a gradual development on
a system. It always seemed to me that Robert Elsmere
supposed that he had gained a new point of view; but asa
matter of fact he only set to work to do what he did before,
single-handed, bereft of his former helps, and a weaker man.

‘I draw no moral from this: Every man must be the
guardian of his own sincerity. But a process of thinking,
steadily pursued, often brings a man to his starting point,
though he may not recognise tife fact.’

CHAPTER XI

THE LAMBETH HEARING

On August 23, 1898, Dr. Creighton had written to the Bishop
of Rochester :

‘I see little prospect of peace in our work after the
holidays. Our lot has fallen in evil times; but we must
hope to get some good out of it. The process, however, is
painful, and our temper and attitude matter much. May
God give us wisdom and patience.’

His attempts to regulate occasional services had met with
encouraging results; still the new year began with a general
sense of unrest. The ordinary man could not know what
the bishops had been doing to enforce discipline ; and there
was a good deal of soreness on the part of those who had
been obliged to give up cherished customs.

The Bishop’s views are shown in the following letters :

To the Rev. E. H. Hall ‘Fulham Palace: January 11, 1899.

‘The position is :—there has been a period of rather
arbitrary experiments. These are now challenged: it is no
good considering why or how: a system must always have
an answer to give. These experiments rest upon a basis
which is outside the limits of the Anglican system.

‘This cannot stand investigation. We may have a
Catholic spzrzt, but we cannot use the spirit to over-ride the
system.

‘The English people are very conservative: they cannot
understand ingenious experiments to explain things away.

‘The Anglican system rests upon a logical basis. Upset
its principles, and you are in a sphere of arbitrary private
judgment.

‘It is this assertion of arbitrary private judgment on the
part of clergy or congregation which causes disquiet.

‘We must fall into line on a liberal interpretation of the

352 THE LAMBETH HEARING 18y9

Anglican system ; this must be by reference to its principles,
not its etter.

‘ This is the object which I am steadily pursuing, without,
I trust, undue haste, or pedantry, or pressure.

‘Apply this to the particular question you raised.

‘ Reservation must obviously cease.

‘It is unwise under this head to raise the question of
communicating sick persons from the open Communion in
Church.

‘It is unwise to raise that question at all now: because

‘(1) It is regarded with suspicion from its undue exten-
sion.

‘(2) If raised now, it would receive a general answer,
which would be of great weight in the future.

‘(3) It is inevitable that at present rigorist views of inter-
pretation might prevail.

‘(4) It is undesirable that a crisis like this should lead to
any combined expression on the part of the episcopate.

‘(5) It is unwise to strengthen the hands of those who
demand new legislation.’

To the Rev. N. Loraine ‘Fulham Palace, S.W.: January 13, 1899.

‘It is an age of great unrest. ... We must remember
that we are not dealing only with outward manifestations,
but with tendencies of thought. We must try and discover
on what these tendencies rest—and must make room for all
that is admissible in them. This is a difficult process and
requires a gradual education of the public mind. I think
that the first danger of a considerable schism has been
averted. The extremists have abandoned some of their
extreme principles.

‘My address to the Ruridecanal conferences will appear
in a day or two, with an appendix which carries further the
principles there laid down. It is only by a general accept-
ance of such principles that we can be drawn into line. If
the Church of England does not know what it means, or how
to express its meaning, it is in a sorry plight. We must dis-
cover its real strength and patiently make it manifest.’

Four days after writing this he received a letter con-
taining some resolutions passed at a private meeting of
220 incumbents of the ritualist party held in the Holborn
Town Hall. The original intention had been that these
resolutions should not be published, but should be sent to
the bishops with a covering letter. However, somehow the

1899 THE HOLBORN MEETING 353

‘Daily News’ got hold of them, and they became public
property. They stated

‘(1) That by canonical obedience is meant obedience to
the Canons, and to the bishop of the diocese calling on any
individual to conform to the law, usages, customs and rites of
the Church which have canonical authority.

‘(2) That the clergy owe it to the whole Catholic Church
to refuse to obey any demands which conflict with the law,
usages, &c., of the Church, whether cecumenical or provincial,
which have canonical authority.

‘(3) That the reservation of the Blessed Sacrament in
parish churches and for the dona-fide purpose of communicat-
ing the sick and dying, and the ceremonial use of incense
being “laudable practices of the whole Catholic Church,” and
both being included in the directions contained in the
Ornaments Rubric, the right to such reservation and cere-
monial use of incense cannot and must not be abandoned.’

The Bishop saw at once that these resolutions would
raise a new storm. He wrote to Prebendary Villiers, who
had signed the covering letter :

Private ‘London House: January 17, 1899.

‘Dear Prebendary Villiers,—I was surprised to see your
name on a circular which I have received enclosing resolu-
tions which I find it hard to interpret. I wish I knew what
people meant by “ canonical” as applied to the law, usages,
&c. of the Church.

‘Of course the only meaning which the outside public
can put upon it is that there are clergy who are going to
defy the bishops. I need not say that the bishops can do
no more than declare the law of the Church of England.
They have no power to make it or to explain it away. They
can only declare it. When they are called upon, as at present,
they must declare it.

‘If you say that you are going to pay no heed to that
declaration, where are you? There is a clamour for new
legislation to make the law of the-Church more clear and to
enforce it. I do not see how this can be prevented if notice
is given that a large body of the clergy rest upon some
principles of “the doctrine and discipline of Christ” which
pays no heed to the definition “as this Church and realm
have received the same.”

‘What do you expect the bishops to do? That is the
practical question, and you do not supply an answer,’

VOL. IL. AA

354 THE LAMBETH HEARING 1899

‘ Fulham Palace: January 20, 1899.

‘My dear Prebendary Villiers,—My letter to you was, as
you say, private: I wanted to understand what was in the
mind of those present at the meeting.

‘Let me put before you the position as it appears to me.
There have been a number of experiments made in the
Church: many of them have outstripped the limits which
the English people are prepared to accept.

‘You must admit that any method of teaching must have
reference to those who are taught. The faith can be taught
in many ways; none is absolutely essential. Former usages
were framed with reference to their utility, which depended
on their acceptability. The resolutions passed at the meet-
ing seemed to ignore this primary truth. Ceremonies are
made for man, not man for ceremonies, It is just this point
which the bishop has to decide. Individual priests may say,
‘I think this or that is good for my people.” A bishop
represents the unity of the Church as a whole. This was
the original function of his office.

‘ The resolutions practically assume that out of the vast
museum of ecclesiastical antiquities of the past, every priest
has a right to choose what he likes, and to carry it into
practice provided he can find an adequate body of people
who agree with him. This is subversive of all principles of
unity and of government.

‘We all must recognise the true nature of our task, which
is to teach the Gospel to the English people in a way which
that people understands. It is worth while to take a great
deal of trouble to find out what this is.

‘IT agree with you that this ought to be done deliberately
after full discussion. I am quite ready, nay, I am anxious
to have certain points argued in full before the Archbishop.
I hope that this may be done.’

To the Rev. W. B. Trevelyan, who wrote that, as one of
the conveners of the Holborn meeting he did not wish to
appear rebellious, the Bishop answered :

‘Fulham Palace: January 24, 1899.

‘My dear Mr. Trevelyan,—Thank you for your letter.
I very much wish that it were possible to get things straight
in any way. Ina fortnight Parliament meets, and the House
of Commons will ring with denunciations of lawless clergy-
men and cowardly bishops. What answer is to be made?
I have been asked by many M.P.’s, but what can I say?

‘If I give commands they will be disobeyed, or rather,

«899 THE HOLBORN MEETING 355

not obeyed. And no intelligible statement is made of the
nature of [the] authority which commands obedience.

‘The Holborn resolutions were most disastrous. I dare
say they had a meaning, but it was not obvious. They only
stated what you would not do; they were silent about what
you were willing to do.

‘This is really doing harm to the public conscience.
Instead of being a pattern to the State, the Church is a
shocking example of what to avoid. It ought to be possible
to state a case which shall be intelligible to the people at
large. The present excitement arises because they are in
the presence of action which they do not understand, founded
on principles which are not declared, and subversive of that
good understanding and willingness to make the best of
other people on which English life is based.

‘I think this issue ought to be faced in a clear manner.’

Mr. Trevelyan answered that the resolutions had not
been intended to be as defiant as they were supposed to be,
and that he thought the faithful laity had as much a right to
be heard as the ‘man in the street.’

‘Fulham Palace: January 28, 1899.

‘My dear Mr. Trevelyan,—Of course you are quite right
from your own point of view: but so is everybody else. The
resolutions of the Holborn meeting were not understood
by me in the sense you give them. In fact procedure by
means of resolutions, published without any explanation, is
a very dangerous method.

‘I quite admit the ground for your “rights,” but these
‘rights are to particular modes of teaching. Now teaching
must have reference to the persons to be taught, and to the
institution which contains them.

‘I think you underestimate “the man in the street.”
After all our duty is to make religion prevail in every sphere
of life. It is rather a temptation to educate fully a select
circle, and let go our general influence. Surely we should
aim at combining the two. It seems to me that the present
commotion raises the question “What is the best form in
which the Christian faith can be put before the English
people as a whole?” You see that the necessity of a bishop’s
position puts that question prominently before him. Indeed,
that was the object of episcopacy, to secure the unity of the
Church, to form a link between the several congregations.
It is this large question which I should like to see faced.

‘Doubtless you will agree with me, as I do with you.

AA2

356 THE LAMBETH HEARING 1899

There is danger in doing anything; there is danger in doing
nothing. But I think that it ought to be possible to devise
something.’

To Mr. W. J. Birkbeck
Private * Fulham Palace: January 19, 1899.

‘My dear Birkbeck,—The position at present is this:
For some time a series of experiments have been made ; they
are now challenged, and appeal is made to the bishops to
declare and enforce the existing condition of the usages and
customs of the Church of England. They cannot suggest a
compromise. Things have passed beyond that, owing to the
foolishness of a few who have flaunted red rags.

‘The question is by what authority they do these things.
They do not give any intelligible answer.

‘Now the question of incense, applied ceremonially to
persons and things, has been decided, not on the unhistorical
view of the Ornaments Rubric, but with reference to prin-
ciples. The question of interpretation is, does the O.R. mean :
Ornaments shall be used for the services contained in this
book, taken in their relation to the nature of those services
—or : Ornaments shall be used as they were in the old ser-
vices, according to the intention of those services?

‘This is a question of interpretation, on which the bishops
cannot now claim to make an advance on previous decisions.
The use of incense as an accompaniment to the Prayer Book
services is one thing: its use as carrying a number of cere-
monies, not otherwise alluded to, is another thing.

‘The case must be stated and argued on its merits. But
meanwhile the bishops cannot do anything but stand on the
view that has been recognised. I think you must admit the
inevitableness of their position.’

>

To Mr. T. Cheney Garfit ‘Fulham Palace: January 20, 1899.

‘My dear Sir,—Every Englishman wants to get his own
way, and thinks that it is obviously right and quite easy to
get. But he often forgets that every other Englishman
thinks the same. However, when he feels that he is in a
strong majority, he considers it very easy to wipe out the
minority.

‘Unfortunately an administrator feels that this is not the
case. Minorities are very troublesome, especially when they
are driven into a corner.

‘May I ask you to consider a few general truths of
history ?

i

1899 THE ARCHBISHOP’S PROPOSAL 357

‘(1) The suppression of opinions has never succeeded in
England.

‘(2) The history of the English Church is a history of
vain attempts to obtain peace by exclusion.

‘(3) When we look back upon the past we sympathise
with those who were excluded, forgetting the points at issue,
and remembering only the value of liberty as a principle of
our national life. ,

‘(4) There is no real force in England except the force
of public opinion. This operates on the minds of those
against whom it is directed by argument and not by coercion.

‘(5) The bishops can do something if they are supported
by public opinion. But that opinion does not strengthen
their hands by abusing them for not acting when they had no
opinion behind them.’

For some time it had been said, that what the extreme
party desired was an opportunity for stating their case to the
bishops in such a way that full consideration might be given
to all the points involved in their contention. In the Preface
to the Prayer Book it is stated that ‘ for the resolution of all
doubts, concerning the manner how to understand, do, and
execute, the things contained in this Book ; the parties that
so doubt ... shall always resort to the Bishop of the
diocese who by his discretion shall take order for the quiet-
ing and appeasing of the same,’ but that if he ‘be in doubt,
then may he send for the resolution thereof unto the arch-
bishop.’ It seemed to Archbishop Temple that these words
‘ suggested a means of giving the opportunity desired for
discussing the legality of the disputed practices. After
consulting with the Archbishop of York and the Bishops
of London and Winchester in December about the de-
sirability of this course, he proposed in January that he
should announce that he would be ready to hear the defence
of those who might be brought before him by their bishop
for ritual practices of doubtful legality. The other bishops
approved, the Bishop of London considered it was desirable
that men should be obliged to show what grounds they had
for the esoteric practices which they claimed to be rightful
within the Church of England.

On January 21 the following statement appeared in the
newspapers. ‘The Archbishops have agreed that, in order

358 THE LAMBETH HEARING 1899

to give more confidence to the clergy and laity that their
views and opinions shall be fully considered before any
decision is given by either Archbishop on any question sub-
mitted to him in accordance with the directions of the Prayer
Book, he will allow those who are concerned in the case to
argue the matter openly before him, either personally or by
counsel. And to guard against contradictory decisions in
the two provinces, neither Archbishop will pronounce his de-
cision without first consulting the other Archbishop.’ It was
decided that the points to be first submitted to the Arch-
bishops should be the use of portable lights and the cere-
monial use of incense, and that reservatiori should be dis-
cussed at a further hearing. After some friendly consulta-
tion it was agreed, that the Bishop of London should
present the case of the Rev. Henry Westall and the Bishop
of Norwich that of the Rev. Edward Ram before the Arch-
bishops. The hearing was fixed to take place early in
May. The Bishop of London engaged Mr. (now Sir Lewis)
Dibdin and Mr. Errington as counsel. He also wrote to

Professor Collins as follows :
‘London House: March 22, 1899.

‘My dear Collins,—I want your help in an important
matter. The Archbishop is, as you know, to hold a Court
for the decision of some points which practically involve the
interpretation of the Ornaments Rubric, and the relation
between Ornaments and Ceremonies. There has been some
delay in settling the exact procedure. But I have at last
instructed Dibdin to represent me in the pleading. He
would like to have some expert to whom he might turn for
historical reference on points which may be raised by the
other side. You know your way about the books and
authorities, and I hope you will be good enough to look up
questions if it should be necessary.’

In answer to a private inquiry the Bishop explained what
he had so far been able to do to remedy the existing disorder.

‘London House: February 4, 1899.

‘ The present crisis has led to a marshalling of forces each
of which states their extreme demands. The Evangelical
formula, that “The Holy Communion is turned into the
Roman Mass” requires definition at every turn. All that
the bishops can do is to see that the principles of the Church

1899 | RESULTS OBTAINED BY THE BISHOP 359

of England are not contravened. In doubtful matters they
must act according to the principles of English justice and
give the accused the benefit of the doubt.

‘This is not what Sir W. Harcourt and his friends want.
They clamour that the clergy should be dragooned by the
bishops to uniformity with the customs which prevailed fifty
years ago.

‘With this preamble I will tell you what I have succeeded
in doing.

‘(1) I have revised the occasional services in more than
two hundred churches, a gigantic task, involving great labour.
There has been practically no opposition. The St. Alban’s case
settled that. All services that went beyond the Prayer Book
have practically ceased. This is, in my opinion, of supreme
importance, and goes to the root of the matter. It was in
these developments that “ Romanising tendencies” really lay.

‘(2) I have stopped the ceremony of “ Asperges.” I do
not think that it is now practised in the diocese.

‘(3) I have enforced that the Communion Service should
be said without additions or omissions. It seems to me that
if the Prayer Book service be used as appointed, no cere-
monies can affect its meaning for the worshipper. It was
addition or omission which altered its tenor.

‘(4) I have induced several churches which were con-
templating the introduction of incense to abstain. It is
noticeable that I had to deal with churchwardens and church
councils more than with clergy.

*(5) Several churches have abandoned perpetual reserva-
tion, while not pledging themselves to discontinue it for

_ known cases of sickness. This of course abandons “ reserva-

tion” properly so called, and means the carrying of the
Communion from church after the service—a very different
thing theologically speaking.

‘(6) I have stopped the carrying of lighted candles in
procession, and their introduction during the service, in
several cases.

‘(7) I have stopped the use of manuals of devotion
which did not seem to me to be in accordance with Anglican
teaching,

‘ Speaking generally, I have found a reasonable readiness
to obey except on these points—(1) carrying the Communion
to sick persons, (2) the ceremonial use of incense, (3) the
introduction of lights at the Gospel. Of these I have
remitted (2) and (3) to the Archbishop, who will soon hear
the pleadings and pronounce decision.

360 THE LAMBETH HEARING 1899

‘I may say further (1) that I have never had a case of
erroneous teaching submitted to me save once, when it ap-
peared that the sermon was preached three years ago by a
curate who no longer holds my licence, (2) that I have never
used my veto, and have never had a case presented to me.

‘ All institutions in England undergo development. Part
of it is necessary, part of it is foolish. Those whose duty it
is to watch the process can have no standard but that of the
utility of the process for the ends of society, civil and religious
alike. In so watching they are guided by public opinion,
which is often obscure, When it states itself clearly, they
have to disentangle what is permanent from its temporary
form of expression, and have to make good by such wisdom
as they possess what they see to be just and right. This is
what the bishops are trying to do. But the clergy are
naturally wrapped up in their own schemes and their own
congregations. The bishops can only put before them the
good of the Church asa whole. It must take a little time
before this can sink in. Good sense will ultimately teach that
the general system of the Church must be maintained against
individualism. This is what the bishops have to express, and
they do not expect to be thanked by either side in the
process.’

Again he wrote:

‘Some clergymen are pursuing an ideal of their own,
which may be justified on various technical or archzological
grounds: but meanwhile they are irritating the great mass of
the English people whom they are commissioned to teach.
This is exactly a matter on which the bishop ought to
pronounce an opinion, as trusted by all. His decision need
not settle abstract questions, or take a legal form. It is un-
wise to challenge such a solution.’

‘January 13, 1899.

‘It is absolutely necessary at present to fall in on
Anglican lines, widely interpreted ; but the lines must be
clear before the interpretation can be satisfactory. I do not
like asking for confidence, but it is of vital importance to the
Church at present that the clergy should trust my knowledge
of what is necessary.’

If the clamour for new legislation were successful, he was
convinced that such legislation ‘would follow much more
drastic lines than the old and would be very dangerous.’
During the winter Sir William Harcourt had written to the

1899 | SPEECH IN THE HOUSE OF LORDS 361

‘Times’ a series of letters denouncing the bishops for their
negligence in regard to ritual irregularities, and especially for
what he described as ‘their indiscriminate and unscrupulous
use’ of their power of veto, ‘to throttle the course of justice
and to paralyse the law.’ When Parliament met, the Bishop
of Winchester (Dr. Randall Davidson) called attention to
these allegations in the House of Lords, and showed that,
with three exceptions, one of which had occurred twenty-
three years ago, no living bishop had ever exercised the veto
at all. He was answered by Lord Kinnaird, and then Dr.
Creighton spoke, saying how gladly he would have remained
silent ; but, as he was the person who had been most attacked,
his silence might have been misinterpreted. He thought the
crisis serious because 7

‘It is vital in English life that men of different opinions,
however widely they may differ, should appreciate and
habitually understand one another, and treat one another
with respect. We have lately, I think, been perilously near
forgetting that very primary principle on which our national
life is founded. It is a serious matter for the public welfare
when any body of the community can be accused of lawless-
ness, and it is a particularly serious matter when that body
is the clergy . . . that they should even lend a shadow to
the supposition that they are lacking in that obedience to the
law which is the foundation of our social system. ... My
right Rev. Brother... referred to those exceedingly in-
teresting letters wherewith a great statesman! has from time
.to time thought fitto enlighten us. Interesting they certainly
were, but I think they were more amusing than instructive.
The picture that he drew was that of a Church riddled by
the insidious treachery of a traitorous crew under the mis-
management of a body of craven and feeble-minded bishops,
and in the middle of this universal disaster there steps forth
the colossal figure of a new Elijah denouncing judgment—the
only wise and good man—but denouncing judgment and at
the same time clamouring that somebody else (of course the
bishops) should take off his hands the trouble of slaying
prophets of Baal. It was a picture drawn with all the
dexterity of a practised hand, but still the misfortune of it
was, that it was impossible to identify it with the actual world
in which we live... . The mantle of Elijah, if I may say
so, does not seem to have fallen upon the shoulders of the

1 Sir William Harcourt.

362 THE LAMBETH HEARING 1899

noble Lord who has just addressed us, but I presume that
the prophet himself has carried it away with him across the
seas, probably for use on a future occasion.’

Sir William Harcourt himself had found out in managing
the affairs of the country that

‘coercion was no remedy ;’ but ‘apparently what you learn
in civil matters does not necessarily apply to matters
ecclesiastical ... if it is only a handful of clergy with
whom you are dealing, then the more coercion you use the
better... . That is not the conclusion to which you would
expect the bishops to come. What really is the state of
things to which Sir William Harcourt wishes us to go back?
... Is it the old days of Elizabeth and the old Tudor con-
ception of what a bishop’s function is, that he should bea
prosecuting officer on the part of the police? ... The
bishops if they have been to blame have been to blame for
this: that they have acted as Englishmen, and not as
ecclesiastics, and have trusted themselves to the common
sense of the people. ... Prosecution and persecution are
very closely connected in the mind of the ordinary English-
man: and those who have to administer the affairs of the
Church will always remember, that that public opinion which
goads them to persecute their clergy would be the very first
to desert them and hold them up to derision, when they had
undertaken the task forced upon them... . Prosecutions
were abandoned because they absolutely failed. It is a
matter of fact that after each period in which prosecution for
ecclesiastical offences has been inaugurated, instead of there
being a going back of ritualism, there has been a distinct
advance of it.... It is assumed that when prosecution
ceased the bishops were doing nothing.’

He explained how in the country dioceses disputed
questions had been settled by episcopal intervention and the
good sense and good feeling of the parishioners ; but London
presented peculiar conditions, owing to the want of strong
parochial feeling, and to the fact that any stray visitor to
a church felt that he had a right to complain to the Bishop
of London if he saw something that he did not like. The
good sense of the community had now declared strongly
against certain extravagances, and ‘it is that declaration which
constitutes a crisis... . The bishops are very glad to have
their hands strengthened by the declaration of the good sense

1899 | SPEECH IN THE HOUSE OF LORDS 363

of the community. With that behind them they can do
much. Unfortunately the popular mind is more interested in
the regulation of small points of ceremonial than in the
direction of tendencies which lie much deeper.’ He told what
he had been able to do with regard to the regulation of
additional services. It was solely in the subsidiary question
of the mode in which services should be conducted that his
ruling had been disputed. These cases were now to be sub-
mitted to the Archbishop.

‘In that way I believe that a great deal of obscurity may
be cleared up... . It is always difficult to meddle with the
tendencies of human thought. The whole history of the
past is against the idea that tendencies of human thought can
be regulated at our will by appeals to judicial tribunals.
Nothing should be dealt with so tenderly as a man’s con-
scientious convictions, misguided though they may be. There
is no way of bringing back unity and good understanding
except by setting forth great principles of truth, and setting
them forth so clearly that they cannot be misunderstood,
misapplied, or misconstrued.’

In the House of Commons the question was raised by Mr.
Samuel Smith, in an amendment tothe Address. The nature
of the discussion and the comments in the Press showed how
deeply the Protestant feeling in the country was stirred.
The Bishop knew that as a moderator he was bound to be
attacked by both sides. His one endeavour was ‘ to keep his
‘head clear, and undisturbed by criticism to go on quietly with
his efforts to induce a more reasonable temper.’ Above all
he knew how to keep silence. Neither speeches nor declara-
tions at E.C. U. meetings, nor Sir W. Harcourt’s letters in the
‘Times,’ drew any answer from him. He believed that harm
would be done by saying almost anything on the disputed
points, and always regretted when he was forced to speak.
In his opinion the seriousness of the crisis did not lie so much
in itself, but in the fact that the prevalent temper as exhibited
in Sir W. Harcourt’s letters, and in the nature of the outcry
against the extreme men, showed how little the principles ©
of true liberalism had penetrated into the common life,
since people were so anxious to withhold from others the
liberty which they claimed for themselves. He was grieved

364 THE LAMBETH HEARING 1899

in his dealings with individuals to find how little pre-
pared they often were to give up their own way for the
general good. He realised painfully how character deterio-
rates in those who persuade themselves that their own way
is the only right way. As he wrote: ‘the worst of religious
or political fanaticism is that people talk so much about trifles
and grow so heated that they do not know the depths to
which they descend.’ It will be readily understood what it
meant to one whose position made him keenly alive to the
great and pressing needs of the Church, to be constantly
turned aside from the great work which he wanted to do by
difficulties which seemed infinitely small, even though their
effect might be far-reaching. But he never lost courage.
Those who could understand always felt ‘that his strong
hand was on the helm’ and that his clear eye studied the
prospect. His patience never wore out, he always kept a
firm hold on the main issues, his clear common sense might
be irritating to angry controversialists, but most were con-
strained to recognise his desire to be just, and encouraged by
his confidence in the future of the Church.

A new incident added fuel tothe flame. A certain foolish
young man had taken to confession against the wishes of his
parents. Neither the parents nor the curate to whom the
young man had gone had behaved with wisdom. The result
was a correspondence published in the newspapers, and another
attack in the House of Lords on indifferent bishops and law-
less clergy. The Bishop refused to be drawn into a discussion
of the whole policy of the Church, and whilst stating clearly
that anything like the introduction of the system of con-
fession into the Church of England must be very carefully
guarded against, he asserted that in his opinion there was no
need whatever for any really serious anxiety upon that point.
He must have wished to show the Lords that it was perhaps
beneath their dignity to concern themselves so particularly
about the nature of a book given by a curate to a boy, when,
after telling how he had remonstrated with the curate for giving
away a book written by a member of another communion, he
added: ‘What should we say supposing a clergyman had
picked up a book written by an eminent nonconformist
minister and given it to the boy?’ He concluded by saying

1899 CONFESSION 365

that the father of the boy had thanked him for the
promptness and kindness with which he had dealt with the
matter, and that the curate had accepted his admonitions and
promised in the future not to receive persons under age to
confession.

The following letter shows his views about confession :

‘March 7, 1899.

‘The practice of confession can only become habitual if it
is required as a necessary preliminary for the reception of the
Holy Communion. This it can never be in the Church of
England, and I do not think that the temper of the English
people is such that they are ever likely to accept it voluntarily
to any large extent. I consider that its general adoption
would show a weakening of the moral fibre of the English
character.’

After an interview with one of his clergy, he wrote:
‘February 27, 1899.

‘Let me put on record my requests to you this morning.

‘(1) That you should not give to candidates for Confirma-
tion any literature concerning Confession.

‘(2) That you should not urge upon them Confession asa
preliminary for Confirmation.

‘(3) That you should not give them any teaching on the
subject beyond what is contained in the book of Common
Prayer.’

When the difficulty of carrying out these injunctions
literally was expressed, he wrote again:

‘ March 8, 1899.

‘ The teaching of the Church of England about preparation
for Holy Communion is clear. It prescribes—

*(1) Self-examination.

*(2) Confession to God.

*(3) Restitution and satisfaction to man.

‘This is universal, but if anyone cannot quiet his own
conscience, he may come for advice and absolution.

‘The important point is that the last course should be
left to the individual who chooses to use it.

‘No clergyman in preparing candidates for Confirmation
may teach that the exceptional method is normal. It is one
thing to awaken the conscience, it is another thing to under-
take to quiet it for someone else.’

366 THE LAMBETH HEARING 1899

Early in March he sent this memorandum to all the
churches in the diocese which it might concern :

‘ Services in Holy Week.

‘I am not prepared to sanction,

‘(1) The washing of the altars.

‘(2) The Adoration of the Cross.

‘(3) The benediction of the paschal candle.

‘I do not forbid the distribution of palms, provided it be
not part of any other service; and the prayers used are for a
blessing of the people, not of the palms, which are to be used
as memorials. The palms are not to be sprinkled or censed.’

When asked by a friend not to press these directions too
closely on a particular priest, he answered :

‘London House: March 13, 1899.

‘I am glad to see ’s letters. I quite sympathise with
him. But all these people make one mistake. They believe
that it is theirexcrescences which make them succeed, whereas
it is themselves. ‘The people like and would take any-
thing Ze did, because he does it. If he were to say, “I have
been doing things which I liked, and which I thought you
would like. The Bishop tells me that it is not good for the
general welfare of the Church that these things should be
done. Let us drop them quietly for the good of our brethren.
We can do just as well without them ”—then he would be
setting an example which would be of great value. But un-
fortunately the English mind has no grasp of ideas, and no
sense of proportion. Indeed the Englishman has no mind at
all, he only has an hereditary obstinacy.

‘About your question, I wish to give as few directions as
possible. My memorandum was a circular to whom it might
concern. I had before me a number of services for the
“Blessing of Palms.” Their childishness and absence of
intelligibility was portentous. Scarcely any two were the
same. Doubtless they all came from ancient sources, which
were not applicable, and were not properly translated. Many
of them maundered about a “creature of palms,’ which is
ridiculous. Of course it was a translation of “creatura pal-
marum” which means “palms the work of Thy Hands” or
some such phrase.

‘Then many were exorcisms of the “creature of palms,”
which involved unspeakable nonsense. Others prayed that
the palms so blessed might exorcise the houses to which they
were carried. They all pointed in one direction—that an

1899 LETTERS ON THE SITUATION 367

archzological revival was being carried out in the most stupid
way without any regard to circumstances, or ideas, or any con-
ception of truth.

‘I thought it best to give a general direction, and take no
further step about details. I do not think that the form you
send me is open to the criticisms expressed above. I
remember Palm Sunday observed in the country by people
as you say. But we have before us a general question as
to the latitude for imaginative services, and this must be
judged with reference to their simplicity and directness. The
rule must be: Take the idea and apply it sensibly to the
people with whom you are dealing. Appeal to the imagina-
tion must not degrade knowledge.

‘I still see no light on the situation generally. No one
cares to define it accurately, or prescribe limits. The identi-
fication of what you have been in the habit of doing with the
“Catholic Faith” is a conspicuously English way of talking
nonsense.’

To the Bishop of Bombay (Dr. McArthur, now Bishop of
Southampton) ‘ Brunnen, Switzerland: April 10, 1899.

‘My dear Bishop,—I have been long in answering your
letter, but that is not the test of my gladness at receiving it.
In the daily accumulation of my correspondence that which
presses is dealt with first, and what can wait, waits. I
remember the Archbishop saying to me, “You will find it a
good maxim, Never do to-day what you can put off till to-
morrow : but then you must be sure what can be put off.”
I find it necessary to act on that principle. Now, however,
I am taking a holiday fora few days at Easter. I find that I
can go for three months, and then I must have a little rest.
It is well to learn one’s possibilities: The advantage of getting
away and lifting one’s head out of the eternal sound of
machinery is really most beneficial. I can go back to work
again with kindly feelings towards everyone; which is an
absolutely essential part of a bishop’s work, to my thinking.
If a man, or a parish or a question, gets on your nerves, you
are useless for that purpose. . . . Church matters generally
are as bad as can be. I do not see the way out of the present
mess. The E.C.U. people have no common sense: and the
other people are so violent that the moderates do not like to
throw over the E.C.U. The only hope is that the argu-
ments before the Archbishops may clear up some points,
and that the decision may be generally received. I am not
sure that there will not be a secession. I rather think it

368 THE LAMBETH HEARING 1899

inevitable. We must do all we can to minimise it and make
it unreasonable. But a very little matter would precipitate a
vast mass of popular opinion into wrathful determination to
deal vigorously, and then there would be a general mess, It
is not an easy matter for me to keep the peace.’

On April 18, the diocesan conference opened. His
presidential address‘ was a lucid statement of the difficulties
of the moment, and was felt to be a real help to ‘clear
thought, where clear thought was so much needed.’

He first spoke sadly of the offence that a
time of controversy was to the great body of humble
and pious souls ‘who are inexpressibly pained at violent
speech about holy things, at quarrels among professing
Christians, at the suspension of good works for barren dis-
putation, at the exhibition of self-will, by those whom they
wish to reverence.’ He said that little had ‘been done to
make the issue clear,’ and ‘that almost everything had been
neglected which practical wisdom could dictate.’ In the
late controversy the Christian religion had been ‘apparently
identified with certain adjuncts to the mode of performing
divine service ;’ and it is ‘the extraordinary want of propor-
tion in defining the questions at issue—a want equally dis-
cernible on both sides—which prevents any real progress
being made in discussion.’ It is natural that ‘when a Church
is moved with evangelistic zeal so strongly as is the Church
of England at the present day, various experiments should be
made.’ Such experiments require regulation, but inquiry
must be ‘ made patiently without heat and without prejudice.’

He maintained that to call such things ‘in any sense a
religion is an unpardonable exaggeration. ... They have
their place and their importance, but it is within the sphere
of ecclesiastical order, not of religious truth. There was
advantage in diversity, but ‘there must be a recognisable
type’ of services. ‘Diversity must have its limits. He did
not deny the seriousness of the anxiety roused by the
appearance of clerical insubordination, but he said that this
insubordinate spirit was not deep-seated. ‘I must say for
my part that I have found a very real desire to meet my
wishes, and to obey my directions.’ He showed how diffi-

1 Published in Zhe Church and the Nation.

1899 DIOCESAN CONFERENCE 369

cult anything like a rigid adherence to the rubrics was, and
that ‘it is not so easy to give directions about services which
are fair and just—which rest on principles, and not on mere
arbitrary preference. . . . It is only by a recognition of prin-
ciples that we can reach peace. Ceremonies are nothing in
themselves, and differences of opinion cannot be composed
by attacking ceremonies. It is useless to deal with them as
subjects for legal decision. Legal procedure narrows the point
at issue, and pronounces an abstract decision concerning that
point alone. If men’s minds are not satisfied about principles,
the special points which can be raised about ceremonies are
innumerable.’ In conclusion, he said that it was to the pro-
motion of zeal and energy in practical work for saving souls
that he would have liked to devote himself.

‘But we cannot always choose for ourselves the sphere
of our activities. If I have to interfere in small matters, if
I seem to check zeal and curb enthusiasm, if I have to ask
my clergy to pause, and think about the relation of their own
particular position to the whole Church, it is because such
things are necessary, not because I take pleasure in doing
them.

‘But I would say this. I do not wish to command so
much as to persuade. I wish to induce people to see them-
selves as others see them, to regard what they are doing in
reference to its far-off effects on the consciences of others, to
cultivate a truer sense of the proportion of things, to deal
more with ideas than with the clothing of ideas; to pay more
attention to the reason of a thing than to its antiquity ; to
remember that the chief danger which besets those who are
pursuing a high object is to confuse means with ends; to
examine themselves very fully, lest they confuse Christian
zeal with the desire to have their own way, which is the
characteristic of the natural man.

‘I donot like to speak about myself. But we have reached
a point where someone must be responsible for leading, and
a leader must be trusted. There is no leader possible save
the bishop. So I ask you all, clergy and laity alike, to trust
me, and to follow me as far as you possibly can.’

His challenge was taken up. The Earl of Stamford con-
cluded a proposal for a vote of thanks to him with the words
‘We have been told that there must be a leader, and the
leader must be trusted. My Lord, in the name of those

VOL. II. BB

370 THE LAMBETH HEARING 1899

within, and the multitude outside, these walls, I accept the
challenge. You are in this matter our rightful leader. We
are content. Wetrust you. We will follow you.’

On May I, an address expressing confidence in the arch-
bishops and bishops and signed by ten thousand laymen was
presented to the Archbishop. Shortly afterwards the hearing
began at Lambeth. The Bishop’s engagements did not
permit of his continuous presence at Lambeth during the
days given up to hearing the arguments on either side, but he
was in constant consultation with those who were arguing
for him.

To the Rev. W. E. Collins * ‘ Ascension Day, 1899

‘As regards Barbaro,’ his evidence is valuable, as it is that
of the outside observer who was giving information, not of a
technical but of an obvious kind, to intelligent outsiders.
When you consider the rarity of any account of religious
services from that point of view, the document becomes very
valuable. Barbaro begins by describing the differences
which would strike anyone who went into an English church.
There were bells and organs, it is true, but not other things.
These are things the absence of which would at once be
noted : “non acqua, non fuoco;” the language is popular ;
and must be explained from the motive of the writer. There
was no holy water; there was no fire. What is fire? not
lights, for he would have said “lumi.” What then? There
can be nothing but incense, which zs a fire composed not of
sticks but of spices. I do not know that any Italian dictionary
would help. Italian dialects at that time were multitudinous.
The Venetian was not the literary dialect, nor was its speech
accurate. I have read pages of Venetian papers. They are
not literary in any sense. But there is nothing in the ordinary
services to which “ fuoco ” could apply except incense.’

Convocation was occupied this spring with the considera-
tion of a bill framed ten years before by Archbishop Benson
for amending the constitution of the ecclesiastical Courts.
This bill Archbishop Temple took as a basis for discussion
in both Houses of Convocation. Dr. Creighton did not take
much part in these discussions. I think he felt the creation
of any new ecclesiastical Courts so unlikely that he did not

1 Barbaro was a Venetian Ambassador. In the true text of his letter, written
in May 1551, 2 is ‘non acque non fuochi.’

1899 ECCLESIASTICAL COURTS 371

care to give time and thought to the discussion of ideal
schemes. The following is his only written utterance on the
matter :

To the Archbishop of Canterbury (Dr. Temple)
‘June 1, 1899.

‘My dear Archbishop,—I incline to think that the best
course would be for the Upper House to consider the bill and
send it to the Lower House. If the Lower House propose
amendments which we are unable to accept, then we may
have a conference. If we still do not agree, the joint
session may take up the question. After all is done, we will
have to decide whether or no it is worth while to bring in the
bill.

‘I must confess that the Lambeth hearing convinced me
of a point to which I had been otherwise tending. The bill
refers to the whole episcopate the decision of questions of
doctrine and 7ztual, Now questions of ritual are not concerned
with any principle, but merely with interpretation. I do not
see how a meeting of bishops would have acted if the question
of incense had been referred to them. Nor dol see anything
in the arguments before you which requires anything but
legal intelligence.

‘Now a bishops’ meeting could at most appoint a com-
mittee, who would consult experts, and make a report
according to their knowledge. If the advocates before the
Privy Council had any additional knowledge, they would
bring it forward; and the bishops might be convicted of
ignorance.

‘ At all events we would give our decision without all the
means of knowing which would be at the disposal of the
Court to which we reported.

‘This does not apply to doctrine in which we are experts,
and where our decision ought to be authoritative. I do not
like putting doctrine and ritual on the same footing.’

The Archbishops’ decision about incense and lights was
not issued till August. It was réceived with dismay by the
ritualists, chiefly on account of the grounds on which it was
based. It might probably have been generally accepted
had it not been based on a rigid interpretation of the Act
of Uniformity." The irritation was increased by a letter

' In his decision the Archbishop said ‘ Nothing can be clearer than the words
used in the Act of 1559’ (the second Act of Uniformity) ‘ prohibiting the use of
any ceremony not ordered in the book.’ He quoted the passages in the Act

BB2

372 THE LAMBETH HEARING 1899

from Sir William Harcourt to the ‘Times’ welcoming the
decision especially because of the grounds on which it
was made. It was said that he did his utmost to make
disobedience general. Beforehand the very clergy who
were known for their extreme practices had expressed their
weariness of the agitation and their willingness to obey, but
now it became to many a matter of principle to disobey.

The following letters show the Bishop’s opinion about
some of the points raised in the discussion :

‘ Llanfairfechan : August 4, 1899

‘My dear Dr. Cobb,—I have been reading your communi-
cation to the “ Westminstef.” May I make a remark on one
point? You say that the Archbishops’ decision must neces-
sarily turn many people’s minds to a reconsideration of the
relations between Church and State. I know that this is the
right thing to say—but I also know that you are not the man
to say it for that reason. I think that there is something
rather discreditable to English common sense in the tendency
for everyone who is displeased about matters ecclesiastical to
exclaim “Better disestablishment than this!” Everyone
seems to think that in a disestablished church his own parti-
cular views would undoubtedly prevail. I should like people
to think out a little more clearly what would be the state of
affairs in a disestablished church. It would be pretty much
what it is at present, only rather more so.

‘A synod, construct it as you will, would have a stricter
conception of uniformity than have the bishops. You would
get no changes in the Prayer Book, and no different principles
of interpreting rubrics.... The fact is that the conser-
vatism of the English people is insuperable... . If the
Anglican system were put into the melting-pot to-morrow,
it would come out after five years’ heating precisely the same.
If you think otherwise, I should be very glad to be enlightened

prescribing the order of services in the Church and said that they were ‘clearly
meant to exclude all variations.? He allowed that at first ‘the Act was
imperfectly obeyed,’ but said ‘in spite of all this, the precise and clear state-
ments of the Act gradually prevailed, and forbidden ceremonies gradually dis-
appeared.’ He went on: ‘ We are obliged to come to the conclusion that the use
of incense in the public worship, and as a part of that worship, is not at present
enjoined nor permitted by the law of the Church of England, and it is our duty to
request the clergy who do use it to discontinue that use. If used at all, it must
be used (in George Herbert’s language) to sweeten the church and outside the
worship altogether.’ The same line of reasoning was applied to the case of
processions carrying lights.

1899 THE ARCHBISHOPS’ DECISION 373

—but this is a matter on which we must all try and think
straight.’ ‘ Llanfairfechan : August 9, 1899.

‘Dear Dr. Cobb,—. . . I remember that I was once try-
ing to find a title for a book about English Church history
from 1534-1662. I was talking about it to Dr. Hort, who
said, “ the true title would be Experiments in Anglicanism ; but
that would not do.” This is quite true, and the experiments
are not yet finished. There was a lull from 1662 to 1832;
now we are in the thick of a period of revision of them. Pre-
vious experiments ended in nonconformity of various sorts.
Can this be averted now? You propose to try and avert it
by disestablishment. Would that succeed? It is a largestep
to take, fraught with many issues, unless its success is certain.
You refuse to regard the Church as “ the religious consciousness
of the nation.” So would all if that involved any tampering
with the faith. But the faith is secure: it is only certain
modes of expressing some portions of it which are in question.
Ceremonies, exact methods of services, even discipline, are
questions which may be settled by the national consciousness.
That consciousness is very insular. A statesman may try to
think in larger terms, but he has to express himself in forms
which that consciousness will accept. A churchman has to
do the same. Englishmen have no notion of a form, made
elsewhere, into which they must fit themselves. But this is a
digression from my point. Suppose the Church was a volun-
tary society with asynod of three houses. The dominant house
would be the laymen. Disestablishment forced on from within
would not be popular with the laity. The party which had
produced this result would not be strong. It would not meet
with much sympathy when the stern facts of finance and or-
ganisation had to be faced. Englishmen always act very
legally ; they would make a broad system, with very little dis-
cretion beyond. The ritualists would have to recognise thut
they must fall in, or go ; this would be much more apparent
then than now. There would be much stricter subordination
required. Everything would be much more definite. I am
tolerably certain that this would_rapidly end in disruption.
If this were confined to England, it would be bad enough:
but the Anglican communion in the empire would follow in
some degree.

‘The fact is that the present state of things is due to a
systematic attempt to organise the Church beyond the limits
of organisation which Englishmen will endure. The Roman
Church has gone on so long that no one understands its
system : everybody takes what he likes, and those who do net

374 THE LAMBETH HEARING 1899

like it pay no attention to it. Englishmen are religious ;
they have consciences, which the Latin peoples have not in
the same degree. The Englishman will only have a system
which he understands, and which he purposes to follow. He
will have nothing of first-class, second-class, and third-class
religion which the Roman Church amply provides for various
stages of development.

‘I am rambling on away from my point, which is, that I
think disestablishment would inevitably lead to disruption.
It would only alter disadvantageously the present position :
and those who had pressed for it in hopes of amending things
in their direction could not afford to wait then, as they can
without undue loss of dignity afford to wait now.’

‘ Llanfairfechan: August 12, 1899.

‘Dear Dr. Cobb,—. . . I have long felt that there were
serious difficulties ahead. The position was that the services
of the Church of England as they had existed for three cen-
turies and a half were being changed without any authority,
on the ground of development.

‘But development essentially means “ making explicit what
was implicit” and the criterion was the consciousness of the
whole body of the Church. The test of development is
unanimity, or at all events general acceptance. It means a
gradual growth of the common consciousness of the religious
community. But the ritualists claimed a right to develop
by congregations. Further, they claimed to carry the whole
Church with them; and they developed not according to any
principle of inward growth, but up to an external standard of
the practice of the Western Church.

‘This is an impossible position.

‘If we look at facts—they have produced a natural de-
velopment of more frequent communions, better and more
reverent services, greater hold on definite principles and the
like. They have altered the whole type of service. But this
has been done by making explicit what was implicit in the
Prayer Book system.

‘On these lines progress is possible. But wreckage comes
from insisting on developing up to an external standard,
which is alien to English ideas. They will not abandon this :
they have produced a reaction, which makes things more
difficult. Their loss would, as you say, be a disaster to the
attempt to educate the English character to finer feeling.
It is the duty of everybody who can think, and detach him-
self from personal feeling, to strive to avert this result. The
thing at stake is English Christianity. We can none of us

1899 THE LAITY AND THE RITUALISTS 375

give it the form which we personally wish. How can we do
the best for it ?’
‘ Llanfairfechan: August 15, 1899.

‘Dear Dr. Cobb,—I quite agree with you—the question
is, How are we to get at the Christian communions [com-
munity] of the Church?! I remember a terrible saying of a
wise man: “ There has been no Church since the end of the
third century. There have been two bodies, one offering, the
other accepting, Christian privileges.”

‘I will accept your view entirely if you will take it as
a dream of the future. Since the triumph of the Church,
the ecclesiastical organisation has everywhere gone astray.
The Roman Church is the most complete expression of
Erastianism, for it is not a church at all, but a state in its
organisation, and the worst form of a state—an autocracy.

‘But anyone who has tried knows the difficulty of getting
a working representation of the laity for any except a practical
purpose. They will work to build or restore a church, to
manage its finances, &c.; but beyond that—? You will say
this shows the need of their education. It is going on, I
admit, and we may hope for something from it. But the
consciousness of the Christian body works quietly, and is to
be gathered by other means than by count of heads. It is
that consciousness which I try to catch: and I am sure that
it is at present perturbed by things which it does not under-
stand in the conduct of the ritualist party. I believe that
if they would frankly say, “ We think that we have outsped
the general wish of the Church ; we are willing to withdraw
simply on that ground. Hear us, and give us all you can.
_We will try to win what we want by argument and teaching,
then we will ask again”—I believe that this attitude would
produce a reaction in their favour, and would appeal to the
sympathy of the English people generally. You will say that
it is superhuman. So it is. That is why it would be so
powerful.

‘ Llanfairfechan ; August 22, 1899.

‘Dear Dr. Cobb,—In two days I leave England and
abandon correspondence. . . . Fhe practical question is one
of tolerance, as you say. But tolerance is not only a moral
virtue, it must have an intellectual basis. The question is,
How much can be comprehended in the system of the Church
of England? I remember a remark of a Frenchman, talking
about modern Liberalism: “Ils confondent le droit de

* Dr. Cobb had written ‘ We want the Christian community as a whole to say
what it wants.’

376 THE LAMBETH HEARING 1899

Pindividu d’étre libre avec la nécessité de linstitution
d’étre quelque chose.” The Church of England may be
tolerant, but it must be something. I think that the present
crisis is more serious than previous ones because it raises that
point. The cry, “ Why should not congregations do as they
like?” really resolves the Church into a loose covering of the
religious consciousness, not of the nation, but of small bodies
of Christian people, held together by no principle of cohesion
but convenience. The tolerance which the extreme people
ask for is the right to do whatever they like, irrespective of
the organisation to which they belong. They will not try to
get what they want by persuading others of its harmlessness,
by agitating, by explaining, by moving in Convocation. They
take the right to do what they like, and are aggrieved at the
narrow-mindedness of those who distrust them. The Bishop
of Stepney told me of one to whom he gave the advice to
move through Convocation. “Oh,” was the answer, “that
would be no good: we should get nothing.” It is all there;
and this attitude is very opposed to the English conceptions of
right.

‘Did you read a book by a man called Whittuck,' which
came out some few years ago? Its point was that the High
Church party behaved as though they had annexed the
Church of England, and that they had not. The book was
little read at the time, but it is worth looking at.

‘I hope that matters will enter on a phase of reasonable
discussion, and a capacity for facing the real problems.
Your position is that disestablishment will help this. I am
doubtful. It would raise many other questions first, but it
would leave the position of present difficulties just as they are
now—i.e. the voice of authority would be as it is.’

The Bishop recognised that obedience had been made
difficult, still he had to try to secure it, and at the end of
August he issued a circular letter to his rural deans:

‘Rev. and dear Sir,—You are aware that I referred to the
Archbishop of Canterbury the solution of some doubts which
were felt by a clergyman in the diocese relative to the cere-
monial use of incense, and to the use of lights carried about
during the service. The Archbishop, after hearing all that
was urged on the subject, has concluded that there is no
authority for these usages according to the existing regula-
tions which apply to the conduct of divine worship in the
Church of England.

' The Church of England and Recent Religious Thought, 1893.

= oe

1899 THE BISHOP'S LETTER 377

‘This being so, it becomes a universal duty to abandon
these usages; they are matters which are in no way essential
to Christian teaching, and they give offence to many.

‘I know that habit counts for much in all things apper-
taining to divine worship. But I feel sure that clergy and
congregations alike will recognise the duty of obedience to
authority, and also the equal duty of not offending their
brethren.

‘I should be obliged to you if you would convey to those
clergy in your deanery who may have introduced those
usages into their services, my request that they will quietly
abandon them, and will explain to their people that they do
so at my desire. It is the duty of a bishop to consider what
is best for the whole body of the Church, and before this
general consideration personal preferences must give way.

‘At this season many are away from home, and com-
munications are uncertain, I would ask you to inform me in
the first week of October of the results of your action.’

It was generally felt that this letter made submission
as easy as possible, and gratitude was expressed for the
absence of any allusion to Acts of Parliament, and for the
considerate tone of his letter. When he returned to
Fulham in the autumn, he found that the great majority of
the 58 clergy in the diocese who had used incense or proces-
sional lights were willing at his request to give them up.
Some of these only gave up the ceremonial use of incense,
and continued its use before the services. Many stated that

_ they only obeyed under protest, and that they refused to

recognise the grounds on which the Archbishop’s decision
was based, or to consider it binding. Some spoke of the
trouble and distress caused to their congregations, and in
many cases resolutions of protest, passed at meetings of
the congregations affected, were forwarded to the Bishop, as
well as largely signed petitions. On the whole, there was
willingness to recognise the duty to lay aside individual
preferences and follow the Bishop in what he ordered for
the good of the whole Church.
To one of those who obeyed the Bishop wrote:

‘Fulham Palace: October 3, 1899.

*(1) Tam thankful to you for your readiness to comply
with my request about incense. I would do anything I can

378 THE LAMBETH HEARING 1899

to make it easy to youand your people. But my own position
in the matter is prescribed by what has occurred. I asked
the Archbishop to decide if its ceremonial use was covered
by the regulations which govern the services of the Church of
England, and he has answered JVo.

‘(2) My own view is that the ceremonial use, for censing
persons and things, is open to objection as giving an un-
warranted emphasis to certain portions of the service, and so
giving it a meaning which is not strictly its own. If this were
clearly avoided, I do not see any ground of objection. But
you must remember that people’s minds are very suspicious
just now.

*(3) You ask me the very pertinent question “ How far?”
The answer depends very much on your side. The real
question now raised is the maintenance of the Church of
England as it has been accepted by the English people, in
relation to their national life, during three centuries and a
half. Nobody feels any interest in ceremonies, as such, or
in doctrines, as such ; but they feel that a powerful and useful
institution must not be turned into something which it never
has been, and which they do not want. Roman ways are
suspected because they lead up to the Roman conception of
the Church as an organisation created and ruled by the clergy,
existing independently of its members, conferring or with-
holding salvation according as its rules are observed. Now
you and others would repudiate this; but we have to con-
sider the furthest consequences of our actions.

‘Priesthood, Sacraments, Confession, all are explicable by
themselves. They can be placed in a system which finds
room for individual liberty, or in a system which excludes it.
But it makes a great difference how the system shapes itself.
Do not let us make a mistake. The question to be decided
is, How much of the results of the Oxford movement are to
be permanently incorporated into the Anglicansystem? The
answer is, from my point of view: As much as is compatible
with the maintenance of that system as founded ona view
of the Church which safeguards liberty.

‘You speak of your people and their wishes. Of course
they are attached to what is, and few of them would think of
the general issue. Let me give you a quotation from a letter
of a High Churchman: “ The Eucharist is simply weighed
down to the earth with the most tedious, unmeaning, and
paltry symbolism ; indeed it is not the Church of England
service at all, but utterly changed. I and scores of others
put up with it because we are not grumblers, but think the
nonsense we have to tolerate is beyond all reason.”

1899 THE ARCHBISHOP’S DECISION 379

‘It is opinions such as these that weigh with bishops. It
is unfortunate that you cannot deal with a temper except by
dealing with externals of small moment in themselves. If
the temper were laid aside, the externals would not matter.

‘I already note a growing change of temper ; if this goes
on, peace will come. But it must be through the acceptance
of the Anglican and not the Roman view of the Church.’

He replied as follows to some criticisms on the Arch-
bishop’s decision :

To Mr. Robert Bickersteth
‘Fulham Palace, S.W.: October 3, 1899.

‘... You say “the Archbishop’s decision surrenders the
principle of continuity in our worship.” I should not like
continutty to depend on the same external ceremonies. If
the dropping of a ceremony breaks continuity, surely its
introduction does so equally. You can only get continuity
of development, and development may be up or down—to
more or less.

‘. . . Then do you think that the regulations concerning
the conduct of divine worship ought to be altered by each
congregation at will? I must own that I think the scorn
heaped on the interpretation of an Act of Parliament is mis-
placed, and is empty of meaning. All regulations about every-
thing are binding till they arealtered. They can bealtered by
the same authority that made them. They ave altered when
people are agreed to wish to have them altered. All inter-
pretation of anything is rigid as soon as circumstances de-
mand strict interpretation; and this becomes necessary so
soon as their meaning is challenged.

‘We may wish that the evidence had allowed the Arch-
bishop to decide otherwise, but I think it rather unfair that
a movement which has been carried on for forty years on the
plea of a particular interpretation of the Ornaments Rubric
—which argued its case at length on that ground—should,
when its interpretation was proved untenable, denounce rigid
interpretation of particular points and wish to substitute
general principles.

‘It is quite obvious that incense could never have been
introduced into the English Church except on the plea that
it was covered by the Ornaments Rubric. Is it fair to sneer
at the care taken to try this particular issue?

‘Forgive me if I write thus to you: but I think that at
present we must all try to be scrupulously fair.’

380 THE LAMBETH HEARING 1899

‘Fulham Palace, S.W.: October 9, 1899.

‘You will forgive me for troubling you with one reflection
which I have for a long had before me. The conception of
“continuity ” which has been very prominent of late years
needs definition more than it has received.

‘ There is continuity

‘(1) of faith,
‘(2) of ecclesiastical organisation,
*(3) of the Sacraments as ordained by Christ.

‘This is the framework of the Church.

‘But all else springs from the Church’s conception of its
office as teacher. Ceremonies are modes of teaching. They
have reference to the work to be done, and the best way of
doing it. In the sixteenth century the system of the Church
had grown so complicated that it had ceased to act asa
teacher. The Reformation in England was an attempt to bring
that system back to its early simplicity and connexion with
the life of men. That attempt dealt only with what was
avowedly experimental and not essential. “Continuity”
was not affected by local “uses.” These uses may be
changed by consent of the Church, but not by individual
congregations,

‘Personally I think that the English people are insular
in their opinion about politics, society and religion alike.
But I cannot change them by running counter to their views
all at once. I am born an Englishman, and have to make
the best of it.’

Three London incumbents wrote to the Bishop to say
decidedly that they were unable to obey his injunctions.
Eighteen others asked for an interview with him, in order
that they might, if possible, bring the accustomed use of
incense in their churches into accord with his wishes.

He met them at London House on October 16. One of
them read a statement that they could not accept the
Archbishop’s opinion on the use of incense, nor the argument
upon which it was based, as having any authority over them,
but that they desired to know the Bishop’s wishes, so that
they might if possible conform to them. After hearing
their views the Bishop said that his wish was that they should
give up the ceremonial use of incense between the Lord’s
Prayer and the Benediction. He explained the ceremonial
use of incense to mean the censing of persons and things.

SE
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1899 THE USE OF INCENSE 381

He said that whilst unable to sanction the use of incense in
processions before and after the service, he would not object
to it. After conference together these eighteen clergy wrote
to the Bishop :

‘We the undersigned desire to express our sincere grati-
tude for the kindness and sympathy shown to us by your
lordship on the occasion of our interview on the 16th instant
and for the liberty granted us to state freely our conscientious
difficulties caused by our interpretation of your letter to the
rural deans.

‘Having heard from your lordship that such a measure
of acquiescence as includes the use of the censer before the
service of Holy Communion in the Prayer Book, together
with the use of incense in processions before or after the
service, is agreeable to you, we are accordingly prepared to
modify our practice by suspending for the present in our
several churches the customary ceremonial use of incense
(by which we understand the censing of persons and things)
during the service as set out in the Prayer Book. But we
beg to remind your lordship that such a modification of the
accustomed use is made without any reference on our part
to the Archbishop’s opinion, the binding authority of which
we have felt it our duty respectfully to deny, and the reasons
of which as stated we have ventured in our letter of the 16th
instant definitely to repudiate.

‘We would explain that we make this alteration solely in
compliance with the wish of our diocesan, and in dutiful
regard for his person and office, and for the good of the
Church. Neither would we hide from your lordship that
such an alteration, however temporary, can only be made at
what will be felt by our congregations to be a great loss, and
at the risk of causing considerable misunderstanding, and
irritation, after, as in some cases, so many years of undisturbed
enjoyment of what we believe to be our rightful liberty, not
forbidden by the Prayer Book.’

In his interview with these eighteen priests, the Bishop
had asked them to try to persuade the three who had declined -
to consider any concession, to come into line with them.
This they undertook to do, but without success.

The Bishop then asked these three priests to meet him,
and they talked over the matter in a frank and friendly spirit.
It was a cause of serious annoyance to him that incorrect
statements as to what was said during this conversation

382 THE LAMBETH HEARING 1899

got into the newspapers. In answer to an inquiry as to the
truth of these reports, he wrote :
‘Fulham Palace : November 11, 1899.

‘I had a private and perfectly friendly talk last Monday
with Wainwright, Harry Wilson and Middleton Evans, in
the course of which we talked quite freely of possibilities,
Amongst other things we discussed what would happen in
case a prosecution was instituted by me, and I explained
what I conceived to be the course which such procedure
might assume.

‘This is now represented as a threat on my part that I
would do so. It is worth while noting that the difficulty ofa
Bishop of London in dealing in a friendly way with his clergy
is enormous. If he writes a letter, it is at once forwarded
to the E.C.U. office, is filed for everyone to see, and he is said
to have “sanctioned ” universally something which in a parti-
cular case he is prepared to overlook.

‘If he has a friendly talk, it is at once misrepresented in
any form from which most capital may be made.’

There is no doubt that the Bishop’s behaviour during this
particular interview was quite informal; he even allowed
himself to make a joke. He was urging his hearers to
give up what seemed to him a matter of personal preference
for the sake of peace, when one of them said, ‘ But, my Lord,
you must remember that we have a cure of souls.’ To which
came the quick reply,‘ And you think that souls, like herrings,
cannot be cured without smoke.’ This remark no doubt gave
offence. When he told me of it, and I said, ‘You ought
not to have said that,’ he answered, ‘Yes, I know I ought
not, but it was irresistible.’

This first interview led to nothing, but though he had
little hope, he determined to try again. He suggested that
this first attempt at an understanding should be treated as if
it had not taken place, and that they should begin again. In
reply to a request to state on what basis the discussion should

take place, he wrote :
‘Fulham Palace, S.W. : November 22, 1899.
‘My dear Mr. Wilson,—As matters stand it is not in my
power to sanction in any form the continued use of incense
during divine service. It would be useless to discuss that
point with a view to concessions. I frankly admit that I do
not understand the importance which you attach to a cere-

1899 CHURCH DEFENCE MEETING 383

mony which may be regarded as edifying by some, but is
disliked by many more.

‘My difficulty is to know why, for the sake of such a
matter, you should lay aside all considerations of the duty
of obedience to ecclesiastical authority, and of the welfare of
the general body of the Church of which you are an officer.

‘The words which you quote from my letter “ My object
was to obtain from you something other than that” meant
that I could not conceive that clergymen could be satisfied
by answering a request from their Bishop by the simple
statement that they did not propose to pay any attention to
it. I still do not think that you want the matter merely to
rest there.’

Unfortunately the second interview suggested no way out
of the difficulty, and the Bishop sadly realised that for the
time there was nothing to be done but to leave these priests
alone, and refrain from visiting their churches whilst they
persisted in disobedience.

The beliefs upon which his whole life was built made him
shrink from prosecution ; and besides his abhorrence of any-
thing which could look like persecution, he felt that
prosecution could not help to permanent peace. He was sure
that bishops could not prosecute their clergy without losing
their influence, and that heroic measures would never lead to
victory.

Some of the thoughts raised by the agitating questions of
this year were expressed to a meeting of the Committee

- for Church Defence and Church Instruction in November:

‘The Church needs no defence, it only needs to be under-
stood—its only foe is ignorance. . . . In ecclesiastical matters
we have two definite and strongly marked parties and I do
not think that these two parties ever grasp, with any exact-
ness, the great line of distinction between them. That dis-
tinction is this: There is one party which maintains the
ancient organisation of the Church as necessary, and there is
another which maintains that all forms of organisation are
equally good, and are to be chosen simply on motives of con-
venience. ... This is the one point which differentiates
nonconformists from members of the Church. ... It is
obvious that those who take the nonconformist point of view
should have an altogether different conception of the relation
of the Church to the State, of the Church to society, and

384 THE LAMBETH HEARING

of the Church to the individual, than we have. . . . It is quite
natural that the nonconformists should wish to separate the
Church from the State, that they should wish, that is to say,
that there should be no religious body which is supposed in
any way to express the sentiments of the English more than
any other. That is the real point at issue. ... A national
church means a national recognition of the supreme law of
God. Without a national church there cannot be that. In
this ancient Christian land, in this country where the State
has been educated by the Church, where civilisation was
begun by the Church, where to understand any institution
whatever one has to go to ecclesiastical history to find its
origins, such a breach with the past would be irreparable,
though it would not damage*the Church as much as it would
the State, and it is the State I am thinking of I am not
ashamed to own that I am an Englishman first and a Church-
man afterwards; ... but to my mind Church and State are not
contradictory things. Church and State are the nation looked
at from different points of view. The nation looked at from
the secular side is the State, looked at from the religious side
it is the Church, and separation between the two is impossible.
The great danger which besets the modern State is that it
should be so engrossed in the details of the vast business
which it has to carry on as to lose sight of leading principles.

. . . If the State were to cut itself adrift from the Church, it
would drop into the position of a committee which had only
to do with business and did not concern itself with principles.
I do not want to see the State belittled in this manner... .
I am quite clear that there is no chance of disestablishment
being carried in England in any time that I can foresee by
attacks from without; unless these attacks are welcomed
from within. A feature of the English character is the
determination of the Englishman to have his own way, simply
because it is his own way, and to declare that the institutions
by which he is governed must be changed to enable him to
have his own way. ... There is a danger at present lest
disestablishment should be regarded as a panacea for all
grievances, and lest everybody who is aggrieved at not get-
ting his own way should go in for disestablishment because
by it he feels sure he will get his own way. . . . People speak
as if they wished to purge the Church of England by turning
out everybody who does not think as they do; but then
comes the question where are those who are turned out to
go?.... Do we want any more small bodies outside the
Church all flying at one another’s throats? Is that the ideal
of Christianity ?’

CHAPTER XII

THE LONDON CHURCH CONGRESS

HAVING followed the course of the ritual controversy to the
end of 1899, we must now consider the other events of
that year. In January the Bishop lectured at the Midland
Institute in Birmingham on the History of Universities. In
the course of his lecture he spoke of the future development
of the new universities, pointing out how important it was
that they should respond to local needs. But he added,

‘it is also important that a university should be independent,
that it should be self-governing, in the hands mainly of its
own teachers. A locality may create a university, but once
created it must commit its guidance to experts, for it cannot
possibly hope to control it from outside, and it must not
make it absolutely subservient to mere local demands. A
university, however local it may be, must be in some degree
the home of research, and not merely a training place for
particular employments. It must be a place where the
highest knowledge is pursued for the sake of knowledge.
The object of a university is that it should be the testing
-place of all ideas as they are framed, and that it should
appraise them and put its stamp upon them, before they filter
through to the public mind. . . . The influence of ideas, the
value of ideas, depend on the power of accurate thinking
possessed by those men who submit ideas to others.’

To his nephew Basil ‘ February 14, 1899.
‘On Saturday night I went to Eton and lectured to the
boys. This was rather a naughty thing of me to do, for I
had many other things: but some time ago the head of the
school wrote and asked me. As the request came from the
boys, and not from the Master, I tried to finda day. The
boys manage their own lectures there in an amusing fashion.’

He found the Eton boys a delightful audience, and
talked to them for an hour about Russia. During this year
VOL. IL cc

386 THE LONDON CHURCH CONGRESS 1899

he had what he described as ‘evil days, difficult business
and many bores.’ But he did not allow himself to be
absorbed by ritual difficulties. The moral condition of
London was much in his thoughts, and he readily joined in
a scheme first suggested by Mr. Compton Ricketts, M.P.,
to create a Council for the Promotion of Public Morality in
London. The object of this council is to secure the co-
operation of all those who desire to do something to
promote purer morals in London, whatever their religious or
political opinions may be, or even whatever opinions they
may hold about the methods to be pursued to attain their
object. The Bishop regularly attended the committee
meetings which were held to start this new society, and
on February 1, 1900, he presided at its first public
meeting in St. Martin’s Town Hall. He said that, though
unable to refuse the request that he should act as president
of the council for a time, it was his hope that it would be
only for a time, and that the work in the future would be
organised on a lay basis; the less the clergy had to do
with it the better. He described the aims of the council as
plain, practical and businesslike. Their hope was to cope
with organised temptations to immorality : ‘The organised
co-operation of public opinion in such a country as ours is
the most potent means of redressing wrongs. It is for
the purpose of organising and calling forth public opinion,
and applying it to this particular problem, that our new
society has been formed.’ The first resolution in support of
the council was moved by the Roman Catholic Bishop of
Southwark and seconded by the Chief Rabbi. All speakers
alike testified to their willingness to work under the Bishop’s
leadership to bring about a purer London.

He had long believed that Homes and Refuges of all
kinds ought to be regularly inspected, and until some general
method of inspection should be arranged, he appointed a
committee of his own, consisting of men and women of
experience, to visit such Homes in his diocese as would
receive them, and to report to him. The Bishop’s Visiting
Committee, as it was called, was universally welcomed and
supplied with every information. It inspected the different
institutions in accordance with detailed regulations drawn

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1899 SEVEN-DAYS NEWSPAPERS 387

up under the Bishop’s supervision, and submitted a careful
report to him. He treated the whole matter as confidential ;
the report was for him alone. On the whole, he was satis-
fied with the result of the inspection, and besides writing
specially to some institutions he issued a general letter of
recommendations based on the reports received, which shows
how carefully he had gone into the matter.

It was announced early this year that two of the leading
London daily papers contemplated bringing out a Sunday
issue. The Bishop was readily persuaded to use his influence
to prevent this. He felt that the position of seven-days
newspapers was altogether different from that of the regular
Sunday papers which were mainly prepared during the last
three days of the week, and sold by the tobacconists and
others, who anyhow kept their shops open on Sundays. It
was chiefly in the interests of the larger newsagents who prefer
to close on Sundays and who would lose regular customers
if they refused to supply the Sunday issue of a seven-days
paper, that he took up the matter. He spoke of it at his
diocesan conference, and attended a deputation to the Home
Secretary about it. But it was probably the influence which
he exerted privately that was the strongest. On May 24 he
wrote to his niece, ‘I had to console , proprietor of
the , who has given up his Sunday issue. I wrote and
implored him to do so, and he came to explain his motives,
and said that he had reluctantly agreed.’

In June he spoke in the House of Lords in favour of the
Lord Chief Justice’s ‘Prevention of Corruption Bill.’ He
said that had the bill dealt only with commercial morality, he
would not have ventured to speak on it, ‘but it concerns all
pecuniary dealings between man and man. It deals with a
practice which taints almost everything men are able to do
one with another. It deals with a mischief the principle of
which is that no money is to be passed from one person to
another without some of it sticking to the fingers of everyone
who touches it.’ He showed how easily the system of
gratuities led to blackmailing. But he fully recognised the
difficulty of putting it down by legislation.

‘It is quite true that a man cannot be made virtuous by
Acts of Parliament, but at least evils can be removed from

h , €cC2

388 THE LONDON CHURCH CONGRESS 1899

his path, and it can be made more possible for him to be
virtuous than vicious. One function of the law at all events
is that it should express the public conscience, and so break
down corrupt conventions. ... These conventions cannot
be attacked by legislation until they have reached a point at
which they are ready to fall, and I venture to think that
these conventions of trade have reached a point when they
are ready to fall if a sufficient impulse is given... . Trade
custom in itself is very hard to contend against. It is not
so much a regulation or a habit as an atmosphere in which
ordinary morality has often to be abandoned, frequently with
a sigh on the part of those who abandon it.... When a
man is in a position to say, “You are asking me to commit
a misdemeanour for which you and I can be imprisoned,” the
position becomes entirely different.’

After the Lent confirmations we went for a fortnight to
the Lake of Lucerne with our two eldest sons.

‘I am feeling happy at the prospect of a holiday,’ he
wrote on March 26. ‘I want to get my mind at rest a little
from the worries of controversy, which are always with
me. ... It is very difficult for me to keep the peace, and I
have to act very warily, which is a tiresome process.’

To his niece Winifred ‘Brunnen : March 30, 1899.

‘I think that this lake is the most beautiful I know for
hill slopes. The Swiss lakes do not equal the Italian lakes
in colouring ; but the architecture of the mountains is finer.
I wonder if you have yet learned to judge form and colour
separately. The great difference of judgment lies in this.
People like different things and do not know why: the
reason is that one is thinking of form and another of colour.
I always take in the lines of anything first: that is the really
intellectual part of any impression because it appeals to the
mind: the colour only appeals to the senses and is a matter
of feeling. Of course I feel the colour also, and like to feel it :
but that is another matter.

April 7.

‘I go on thinking about the Easter Collect, that “as by
Thy special grace preventing us Thou hast put into our
minds good desires, so by Thy continual help we may bring
the same to good effect.” It seems to me such a beautiful
way of making the Resurrection a reality to us: we too
must rise, and there is in each of us a life which is struggling
to rise, if we would only ask God to give us grace to let it

Se a en ee Redes

1899 THE DIOCESAN CONFERENCE 389

rise. . .. My holiday is really nice, but I am writing an
address which I have to give when I go back, to my diocesan
conference. ...

‘Everyone wishes to be understood : that ought to be the
bottom of our prayers: “I go to talk to God because He
understands me.”

‘I suppose that the book of Renan which you are read-
ing is “Mes Mémoires.” It is beautifully written ... but
Frenchmen are very curious people, hard for us to under-
stand. They are always rather vain and self-conscious. They
claim for their individual self more than we can allow. An
Englishman always thinks of himself as a member of society,
the Frenchman thinks of himself as a detached person. He
tells how he thought and felt, and how he tried to
realise his thoughts and feelings. We always try to tell how
we discovered what was our duty and how we tried to do it.’

On his way home, he paused at Lucerne to dedicate the
new English church there, and also went to Ziirich to hold a
Confirmation. After reaching London he wrote, ‘I do not
find myself that taking a holiday makes it any nicer to come
back to work. There seems to be such an enormous amount ;
and after being free from worries I think one feels them more
just at first.’

The diocesan conference was held for the first time this
year in the great hall of the Church House, an innovation
which proved a great improvement. I have already spoken
of the Bishop’s opening address, in so far as it dealt with the

- ritual controversy. He did not consider this a subject fitted

for general discussion. ‘Christian life still runs its usual
course. ... Many a clergyman has said to me, “I read in
the newspapers of a crisis in the Church; but it does not
affect me or my parish... .” While great questions are
being discussed we still have to live our daily life: and some-
times we find in it greater refreshment because of the con-
fused shouting which fills our ears outside.’

In closing a discussion on the need of paying more at-
tention to preaching, he said :

‘There is a real danger at the present day that sermons
may be neglected. That arises very much from the greater
amount of parochial energy that is displayed; but I think
that every clergyman ought to remember that, besides being

390 THE LONDON CHURCH CONGRESS 1899

an organiser and being fertile in good works, he is, after all,
primarily a teacher, and no substitution of other things can
make up for a deficiency in that which must always be his
main object. I would only quote one criticism about
sermons, which I remember sunk deeply into my mind, by
a layman, which was, “That sermon was more clever than
it did me good.” That contains a good deal that is worth
meditating on. The main object of our sermons ought to be
to do some soul good, and no substitution of cleverness, no
capacity for talking about current affairs, nothing in the wide
world can make up for the absence of a direct simplicity of
aim in giving gospel teaching to those who require it.’

The usual succession of meetings, dinners, public func-
tions, sermons, lectures, confirmations, filled these early
summer months. Time had to be found for some society
engagements. ‘So you see I am very gay, he wrote. ‘But
it is hard work, and there is not much to be got out of it.
People who are not in it want to be in, and those who are
in are slightly bored with the trouble. I seem to be always
talking.’

a Ge EH. * May 13, 1899.

‘Would you like a record of my doings yesterday? I
wrote letters till 11.10. Then I had a Confirmation at 11.30,
at one I went on a deputation to the Home Secretary and
addressed him about Sunday newspapers. Then I hastened
to lunch with the American Ambassador, where I sat between
the Marquess of Lansdowne and Mr.Goschen. Then I went
to a meeting of Waifs and Strays, where I was in the chair.
Then toa meeting of the London University Commission,
which lasted till 6.30. Then I went to dinner with Mr.
Asquith, and met the Duke of Devonshire and Mr. Balfour.
That was pretty violent.’

At Whitsuntide we spent a few days with the Howard
Peases in Northumberland

To his son Cuthbert ‘ Arcot Hall: May 22, 1899.
‘Dearest Cuthbert,—We are in Northumberland taking a

holiday. It is cold and wet, and Northumberland looks very

grim. . . . However, I have had a good deal of sleep and no

letters, and that is all I want. The world has lately been |

particularly busy for me: indeed I never have had so much
to do as since my return from Switzerland.

i
<r oae

1899 TEACHING 391

‘Il am very much interested in your letters, and am so
glad that you like it’ There is nothing in life except to
enjoy what one is doing. It is the only secret of happiness.
But at starting anything it is well to keep a clear eye on
one’s experience, and separate what is due to one’s own
feelings from what is in the nature of the thing. This pre-
vents disappointment and keeps one’s head cool. Boys are
queer creatures. They look one thing from inside and an-
other from outside. Try and keep before yourself as much
as possible the sense of your own feelings as a boy. It is
odd that there is nothing which one forgets so soon as the
experience which one has just passed through. One seems
to resent the memories of one’s former state. The butterfly
hates to be reminded of the grub and the chrysalis. The one
secret of teaching is to give an impulse which may induce
the taught to be willing to learn. It is no good dragging
boys through a process the meaning of which they do not
understand. All depends on getting them to lend them-
selves to the process. The only way to this is to show them
knowledge as a living, operative thing, by bringing it into con-
nexion with something which they see and feel. This you
discover by casting about: the same point of attachment
does not fit everybody. ... Gemma is with us: and the
children are clamouring that I should tell them a story. To-
morrow we go back to Fulham, and I have to spend Wednes-
day in commemorating the Queen’s Birthday. Then there
comes Ordination. So wags the world.’

To G. H. ‘June 21, 1899.
‘I am so busy that I never heard of your visit to Fulham.
It is very nice now, but I have little time to see it. Yester-
day I left at 7.45 A.M. and returned at 11.30 P.M. This
morning I left at 9.30 and shall not return at all, but sleep
in London House, where I have a dinner to all the bishops.’

No wonder he wrote on July 18 ‘ How I long for the peace
of Wales! ... Everything seems flat and unprofitable. . . .
I am trying to wind up things,-which is weary work,’

We spent the three first weeks of August with children
and nephews and nieces at Llanfairfechan. Then we went
to the Alps, staying first at Pralognan and crossing the
Little St. Bernard to Courmayeur. He enjoyed the moun-
tain walks more than ever and studied the architecture of

? He had just begun work as a schoolmaster.

392 THE LONDON CHURCH CONGRESS 1899

the mountains and the lie of the valleys, and planned many
future excursions to remote spots.

He was anxious to study the castles in the Val d’Aosta
and wrote to Count Balzani: ‘I have been seeing several
castles in Wales, which you remember was occupied by
Edward I. in the great period of castle-building. I rather
have castles on the brain.’ At Aosta we were joined by
Count Balzani and his daughters.

After driving through the Val d’Aosta and visiting some
of its splendid castles, we settled down with the Balzanis in
their little villa near Ivrea. This second visit only increased
his sense of the rare beauty and charm of the district.

To his daughter Beatrice ‘Ivrea: September 21, 1899.

‘ Dearest B..—I have had ups and downs as regards health,
but am now much better. I have written my Church Con-
gress paper, and am peacefully awaiting that ordeal. You
have been having a good time in visits. I think that it is very
good for all of you to have a time that sets you each on your
own feet for a little time. It is good for everybody to try
and find themselves. Of course we are always busy with
that process, but a change of surroundings makes one doubt
about one’s old views, and reveals possibilities of error. I am
sorry that thinks that he does not understand me. I
always think that I am too much of a child of nature and say
and do just what suggests itself to me. When he says that
he does not understand me, I suppose he means by me, me in
relation to himself. Well, relationships have to be made or
changed from both sides. I may not be good enough in
inviting confidence—of that I cannot judge, it is a matter in
which one never knows oneself—but I am always receptive,
I think, and responsive, and anybody who likes can take me
in such form as they want. I think that I have for my
motto “Barkis is willing.” The objection to me might be
taken that I too habitually did the job which came in the
way, instead of seeking for the best job todo. But I daresay
all this only shows my ignorance of myself. As life goes on
my conclusion is that in one sense everybody is quite easy to
understand, and in another sense everybody is very difficult
to understand—easy to understand as a member of the out-
ward order of things, having a place and functions in the
world—very impossible even to think of as a member of the
eternal order of things. But any human being who becomes
visible to one in that latter aspect is of enormous interest.

1899 THE OPENING OF THE CHURCH CONGRESS 393

And there is no account to be given of the reason why any
particular person becomes so visible. And there is no rela-
tion whatever between the aspect of a person in the second
and in the first of these classes. This is wandering into large
subjects. . . . I agree with you in finding the “great”
American writers rather thin: Hawthorne seems to me the
one man of genius they have in literature. The rest are care-
ful studies of the right thing. Only you must not say so in
America. They are a young people, and have all the defects
of youth; but their thought seems to me raw; they substi-
tute gush for real perception ; they have not yet an adequate
amount of national experience behind them.

‘We are outside all the popular opinion in England... .
It is well sometimes to consider the value of public opinion
as applied to a particular subject. I don’t like war with the
Transvaal. It may bea short cut to great schemes, but we
are great enough to wait.’

The Ordination on October 8 was followed by the open-
ing of the Church Congress on the roth.

The work of preparing for the congress had been got
through by the Bishop with his usual rapidity. The Editor
of tke congress Report wrote: ‘From the earliest stages of
preparation, criticism was disarmed by the prompt and ener-
getic way with which the work was done. The initial steps,
often deferred until the new year, were passed before Christmas.
Subjects were fixed, and invited speakers secured by the end
of January ; and the programme was issued months before the

-usual time. The Albert Hall had been taken for the con-

gress, and an American sounding board in the shape of a
shell was procured which added greatly to the carrying power
of the voice. It was decided to have no sectional meetings,
except during the mass meeting for working-men in the
Albert Hall. An unprecedented number of tickets was sold,
and a fortnight before the congress opened all further ap-
plications had to be refused, as 8,000 tickets had been issued,
and all the seats were numbered and appropriated.

On Monday, October 9, there was a mass meeting for
women in the afternoon and for girls in the evening. The
Bishop presided at both. To the women he spoke about
their husbands and the need of studying their tempers so as
to avoid the quarrels ‘which do so much to degrade and

394 THE LONDON CHURCH CONGRESS 1899

debase the whole of life.’ ‘The great cement of family life is
cheerfulness, contentedness and good humour; it is a quiet
peaceful disposition which makes you useful to husband
and children. . . . Your husband has to be taken care of, just
as much as your youngest baby. . . . Hand in hand together
you and he have to go through life. This can only be done
by remembering that all other relationships take their mean-
ing from the relationship of your own soul to God.’

To the girls who crowded the vast hall in the evening, he
said ‘The charm of young people is eternal, because it is
the source of our hopes for the future, it expresses in the
clearest form what we ourselves look forward to, what we
labour for, and what we strive for;’ he urged them to be
willing to learn at least a little from their elders. ‘Your
father and mother have much to tell you, and although you
have much to tell them, yet remember that you are not so
wise that you can entirely sit in the seat of the teacher, and
simply distribute wisdom without getting some in return.
. . . You have a great deal to learn in your home, and should
never be in too great a hurry to emancipate yourself from the
discipline of home. ... Your parents know the difference
between immediate pleasure and lasting happiness, and what
they wish for you is that the cheerfulness and brightness
which come naturally to the young life should go with you
always.’

To his niece Winifred © October 12, 1899.

‘I told them [the girls at the Congress] how much they
could do for older people by taking them into their confidence.
I made a quotation, which I pass on to you.

For it fills the old man’s heart with joy
And makes his pulses fly

To catch the thrill of a happy voice
And the light of a merry eye.

‘What one longs for is, that the happiness of youth should
stay andlast. Advancing age seems torob oneofit. The joy
of life, the longings, the desires for pleasure, for enjoyment,
soon pass away unless they have an abiding centre in God,
Who is the source of true joy, and Who ever renews our life
and gives us new pleasure in doing His will. This is abso-
lutely true: the life of self never satisfies ; one has to live in
God as seen in other lives.’

Se ee ee eT ae
PO oe cee ee ee

i ak EA
Le ee ee

1899 THE BISHOP’S OPENING ADDRESS 395

Every seat in the Albert Hall was filled on the afternoon
of Tuesday, October 10, to hear the presidential address. It
took about an hour to deliver, and the Bishop’s clear voice
reached to every part of the building. His subject was the
work of the Church in the modern State. He showed how
much of the work formerly left to the Church was now done
by the State ; still, ‘the Church has created Christian civilisa-
tion and must be the chief agent in spreading that civilisation
in other lands, ... on the Church falls directly the main-
tenance of the basis of national life. . . . The quiet work of
creating character is the continuous contribution which the
Church makes to the life of the nation.’

He concluded with these words :

‘For myself—shall I venture to confess it?—-I have an ideal
of the Church of England which has steadily grown with my
growth. I see in it a Church not existing in indefinite space,
and founding claims to universality on the ground that it has
no particular home, but a Church rooted in the minds and
hearts of the English people. I am not ashamed to say that,
as I look round the world, I see no other home so well suited
for a divine institution. From that home it can go forth
courageously and face the world as it is, believing that God’s
revelation of Himself once made in the person of Christ Jesus,
is being continually explained to man by that progressive
revelation of God’s purpose, which is continually being made
by the divine government of the world. Steadfast in its hold on
the faith and on the Sacraments by its unbroken link with

' the past, it exists for the maintenance of God’s truth and its

application to the needs of man, not for the purpose of
upholding its own power. A Church fitted for free men,
training them in knowledge and in reverence alike; disen-
tangling the spirit from the form, because of its close contact
with sons who love their mother and frankly speak out
their minds; not wandering among formule, however
beautiful, which have lost their meaning; finding room
increasingly for every form of devotional life, but training its
graces into close connexion with men’s endeavours and
aspirations; having no objects of its own which it cannot
explain and make manifest as being for the highest good of
all; afraid of nothing, receptive of new impulses; quick,
watchful, alert ; proving all things and ever ready to give a
reason for its principles and for their application ; exhorting
persuading, convincing ; so rooted in the past, that it is strong

396 THE LONDON CHURCH CONGRESS 1899

in the present, and evermore hopeful of the future. For the
great work of the Church of Christ is to mould the future,
and so hasten the coming ofthe kingdom. Its eyes are turned
to the past for instruction and warning, not for imitation.
Steadfast in the faith built upon the foundation which its
Master laid, it can speak the truth in love, using such words
and methods as men can best understand ; so penetrated by
the importance of its message that it can speak it in mani-
fold ways, to men of varying tempers and knowledge and feel-
ings, but striving to speak it in such a way that the method of
its teaching ever elevates and invigorates the taught.

‘Is this only a dream, to be realised—for realised
assuredly it must be—at some future time, and under some
other name? Or shall we ertter upon the possession which is
really ours did we but know it? Our difficulties and dif-
ferences arise because we have not a sufficiently lofty concep-
tion of the destiny of the English Church. If any disaster
befalls it, the record that will be written hereafter will be that
English Churchmen of this our day were not sufficiently large-
hearted and high-minded to recognise the greatness of the
heritage which was theirs.’

The Bishop presided at every meeting in the Albert Hall,
and in most cases himself concluded the debate. After the
discussion on the Church and the laity he said:

‘I am quite sure that if the laity of the Church of Eng-
land really wish to have the power, they can have it at very
short notice by asking for it. They certainly would not be
opposed by the clergy in making that request. It must have
struck you as rather odd to-night that the laity should be
listening to impassioned harangues by two of the clergy asking
them to take upon themselves their own bounden duty.’

Speaking about missions he said :

‘Every time I am privileged to hear the subject of missions
discussed I am struck by the obvious signs which go to prove
that missionary interest is making its way to the hearts of the
people . . . speakers appeal to the feelings of those who
have now placed missionary work in its true position as re-
gards the whole proportion of things, and who have learnt to
compare the missionary work of the present with the mis-
sionary work of the early centuries of the Church.’

In speaking of the divisions of English Christianity he said:

‘Unity is not by any means necessarily a unity of
structure. ... But by unity we do always mean a unity

1899 UNITY 397

of structure. That inevitably raises the question “ What struc-
ture?” Then every intellectual conception a man possesses
arises at once. We begin our efforts in the sphere of moral
and religious exaltation, but the moment we raise the question
“ What structure ?” we drop down out of that into a region
where moral enthusiasm does not penetrate, and where it can
do nothing—into a region where simple logic and intellect
prevail. There is the difficulty. In the moral sphere we can
rise to far greater heights than we can in the intellectual
sphere. . . . Again we are and can be as individuals on very
good terms, and we can agree generally on nearly every point
which influences practice. But the moment the separate
interests of separate organisations rise up, people act to one
another very differently. Let me speak quite frankly. We
of the Church of England, I think, do wish to be on as friendly
terms as we possibly can with all nonconformist ministers.
Certainly, speaking for myself, I do most heartily. But
there is this practical difficulty which I always feel. It may
be that I am thin-skinned, but I do not like, after I have been
talking intimately and frankly with a man one day as a
brother in Christ, to find that a week after, upon a public
platform, he has found it necessary to talk about “ purse-
proud prelates,” and to denounce the Bishop of London.
Now, I am not finding fault with him remember, I quite see
what he means by it. I only make this remark because I am
trying my best to illustrate the actual difficulty which we
have to face. It lies in the difference between the actual]
world in which a man lives, the things he has got to do day by
day, and his higher aspirations. A certain unreality comes
from trying to mix up the two, and we do not get any further

‘by being unreal. I think that this attitude of which I have

been speaking arises very greatly from our modes of political
action. . . . We are accustomed to such a mode of procedure
in politics, we are not accustomed to it in religion, and I do
not want to get accustomed to it. Ifa good understanding
is to go on, it must be by constantly keeping before us in all
our intercourse and in all that we have to do with one
another . . . not the system of the world at all, but the spirit
of the Lord Jesus Christ.’

The meeting of the congress which attracted most
interest was that on ‘the Church and her Services.’ In the
excited state of men’s feelings—it was just at this time that

_ the Bishop was trying to procure submission to the Arch-

bishop’s decision—it was fully expected that there would

398 THE LONDON CHURCH CONGRESS 1899

be a disturbance. The hall was filled with an eager and
excited crowd; there seemed to be all the elements of a
row. At the opening of the meeting the Bishop said:

‘I am told that the subject of discussion this afternoon is
one on which there exists difference of opinion. It is upon
such subjects that discussion is especially useful. Hence
points of view differing from your own will probably be put
before you freely and frankly. Now I would ask you to
listen attentively to what is said, and not to attempt to turn
a discussion into a demonstration. The truest way of show-
ing that you hold your opinion strongly is to be able to listen
quietly to all that can be said against it. You will never
succeed in establishing your own opinion by trying to silence
those who differ from you. Listen to their arguments ;
weigh them carefully; and then refute them temperately.
We have just sung:

The world without may rage, but we
Will only cling more close to Thee.

‘Let us not give the world an opportunity of saying that
we only too faithfully reproduce its methods and walk in its
ways. You will appreciate the importance of the example
which we will give to-day. You may say that my remarks
are needless ; but you will forgive me for a strong desire not
to have any need to interpose these remarks in the course of
the debate.’

A sigh, partly of relief, partly of disappointment, seemed
to go through the vast gathering. ‘Splendid!’ said one man
to his neighbour, ‘but it spoils all the fun.’ On the whole,
the President’s wishes were observed; once or twice the
interruptions grew noisy, but were immediately checked by
asign from him. At the only serious attempt at interrup-
tion he rose and said, ‘I must remind you that you have
broken my rule more than once, and I must ask you not to
do it again.’ At the end he said, ‘ We have reached the time
appointed for the conclusion of this meeting, and I would
only say that you have behaved so well that I cannot help
wishing that you had behaved just a little better. I am
quite sure that you have all of you profited by the discussion
which you have heard to-day, and I will not attempt to sum
it up further than by saying that we have heard many opinions,
and that some, in my view, were a little wiser than others.’

j.

Re ee ee a eee
a ag ea ek ee Se a

a Se egies
ne a ae ae oe

1899 WORKING-MEN’S MEETING 399

The way in which the meeting went off was said to be a
‘striking testimony of the Bishop’s wise and firm conduct ;
but for him it might very easily have got out of hand, and
had a disastrous issue.’

To the working-men the Bishop spoke of the impres-
sion of force given by such a gathering, and said that the
great force in the world was no longer physical force, or ever.
intellectual force, but was the force of opinion; hence the
necessity that opinions should rest upon principles.

‘If we can make our opinions higher and better, I think
they will grow wiser of their own accord... . It is not
always easy to know what is wisest, there is a continual
conflict of opinion about that ; but there is not so much conflict
of opinion about what is best. . . . Do not go about constantly
making yourselves out to be superior persons, and thinking
that your opinions are of enormous importance, simply
because they are your own... Nothing is so contagious
as opinion, and how easy it is in any given sphere for
opinions to settle down upon a low level, instead of rising to
a high level. I do not ask you to go about always preaching.
It is not your business. I do not think that superior persons
are, as a rule, very popular, and my advice to you is that,
in pursuing good objects, you should never do it like a
superior person. Do it as a sympathetic man who knows
human weakness, talking as a brother to a brother and not
trying to make yourself out either much wiser or much
better than anyone else. Recognise how far your opinions
carry. Remember that they are the secret of your force.
Remember that it is your opinions that make for progress.’

To the children who filled the hall on Saturday afternoon,
the Bishop spoke of the delight in cruelty shown by the
child of a heathen chief, and then told them the following
essay written by an English child on ‘the cat. ‘“The
cat is a square quadruped, and as is customary with square
quadrupeds, has its legs at the four corners. If you want
to please this animal you must stroke it on the back. If
it is very much pleased, it sets up its tail quite stiff like a
ruler, so that your hand cannot get any further”—this,’
the Bishop said, ‘is a very truthful observation; the child
tried to put down what he had noticed about the cat;
but his next sentence was what particularly impressed

400 THE LONDON CHURCH CONGRESS 1899

me: “the cat is said to have nine lives, but in this country
it seldom needs them all because of Christianity ;” this last
sentence has a good deal packed away in it... the child
knew that general kindness and love was the first principle of
Christianity . . . it is this that you too ought to have, a sense
of what it is that Christianity really does.’

The last meeting was for church choirs on Saturday
evening. The Bishop spoke to them on a point about which
he always felt strongly, the duty not to neglect English
church music. ‘I hope you will not think me exceedingly
insular,’ he went on, ‘if I say that I regret to see a tendency
to drop back on all occasions to foreign music. I should like
to point my moral exactly. In connexion with this Church
Congress there have been two services in St. Paul’s Cathedral.
The anthem on one occasion was by Brahms, on the other by
Spohr. They were very beautiful anthems, most appropriate ;
only I think we English people when assembled together on
such an occasion should have a little English music.’

He preached at the Thanksgiving Service in St. Paul’s
Cathedral at the close of the congress, and took as his subject
‘the Spiritual Understanding.’’ He described it as the
capacity most needed by the Christian, the necessary qualifi-
cation of the Christian teacher. The congress, with its varied
opinions expressed in varied ways, should tend to quicken
sympathy and spiritual understanding and mutual forbearance.
He summed it all up by affirming, as so often, the supreme
value of liberty : ‘Liberty is the most precious gift that man
can have—we know that it is so and we praise it; but do
we sufficiently consider what any sense of liberty must really
rest upon? It rests upon the recognition of God’s divers
ways in dealing with His children.’

It was said at the time ‘ that the congress as a whole was
nothing but the expression of the mind of the President,
his personality was stamped on every meeting . . . his tact
and force ruled throughout.’ Another remarked, ‘The con-
gress was a success, the President a revelation.’ .

The week after the congress we went to stay with the
Humphry Wards in the country.

1 Pubiished in 7he Mind of St. Peter and other Sermons

fh

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ie ea se
Pee eee! one ee es

1895 LETTERS 401

To his daughter Beatrice (then in America)
* Stocks: October 18, 1899.

‘Dearest B.—We are here taking rest for a short space
after the labours of the congress. The sun shines by day
and the moon by night: it is quite warm: the woods look
lovely and it is a joy to walk on the common. There is no-
body here . .. only Mary and Janet are at home, and Mr.
Ward sometimes. It is very peaceful and nice. The
congress was a success beyond my hopes. I got through my
work without being too much tired; and on the whole I
think that people approved of me. Here the war has decided
itself: the Boers left no hope: everybody accepts the situation.

. . I[gotaletter from saying that her husband will haveto
go soon. Itis rather hard to part after ten weeks of matrimony
with a chance of never meeting again. She is very good and
brave about it, and tries to be quite cheerful. But it is small
things like that which bring most vividly before one’s mind
the meaning of war. ... I cut the opening of Parliament
yesterday, which was naughty, and roamed in the woods in-
stead. It is nice to be at peace once more ; but a holiday hardly
seems earned just yet. However, people have been very good
in not writing me many letters: and that is why I find myself
with time to write to you, which, however, I hope to do from
time to time. Of course it is horrid being without you : but
I hope you are having a good time, and I wish to put on
record my hope that you will stay as long as you like. Don’t
grow weary toosoon. Of course one goes through phases: at
first everything is new and exciting: then you feel as if you
had got to the bottom of it, and it is dull. You must wait

a bit to see nice points of difference apart from general

impressions: then interest revives in them,’

To Lady Grey * Fulham Palace: October 23, 1899.

‘I was delighted to get your letter. You cannot think
how it rejoices me to find something uwman among my
correspondence, which rolls along in the shape of official
communications, varied only by quarrelsome recriminations.
Even these latter are amusing sometimes: and it is a source
of satisfaction if one gets sense into somebody’s head. What
a queer people we English are! How we scream and clamour
for somebody’s head on a charger, and would be horrified if
anyone were to bring it to us. We talk any amount of
nonsense before action is necessary ; when the time for action
comes we are quite reasonable. I am glad that you liked my
views about the Church. I always think that I could put

VOL, II. DD

4oa THE LONDON CHURCH CONGRESS 1899

people on right lines if only they would abandon prejudice
and face facts. But then human nature is made up of in-
herited prejudices, and men would fall to pieces without them.
Very few can be expected to think things out. One has to
make the best of them, and has to remember to make some-
thing better of oneself... .

‘T heard a good account of you from Miss Freeman, whom
I met at Stocks, where I went to sleep for three days after
the congress. I sat in a chair for a week, and made sixteen
speeches. It was horrible. Some people are always anxious
to edify mankind: I never have any particular [belief] in my
own opinions because they are my own: but I can never give
any opinions except my own, and they have to be dragged
out of me by force. I never like the process, and am never
anxious to know what becomes of them afterwards, except a
long time afterwards. Then it is sometimes astonishing to
find them alive in somebody. Dear me, what an egotistical
letter I am writing: but then you understand... .

‘Your quotation from Carlyle is excellent. Years ago I
came across a passage in a letter of FitzJames Stephen to
FitzGerald, “The truth must be told about Carlyle. Heisa
man of one idea, but what that idea is no one is able to dis-
cover.” That always remained in my mind as an adequate
criticism. I remember someone once saying to me: “If
you take away the Scotch accent and the insolence from
Carlyle, there is very little left.” That also is true.’

Early in October the Boer war began. At one of the
congress meetings, the Bishop said, ‘I have received to-day
many letters asking me to commend to the prayers of the
many clergymen who meet at this congress our brothers in
South Africa, and those who are on their way thither.’

To a young friend whose husband was ordered to South Africa
‘Stocks: October 11, 1899.

‘I was very anxious to know if —— was to be ordered to
Africa. I thought it impossible that he could escape. Every-
body I know is going. Of course they like it in a way : but
there is always another way in all things. Of course also
your letter was just like you, as good as anyone could be:
only it is hard to have one’s husband taken away after barely
three months: there is no getting over that. But you faced
all these things before, and I won’t even pity either of you,
because it is no good. We all have to do our duty. It is
a mixture of joy and pain to face it: only when it is over

1899 THE WAR 403

does the joy remain. ... Of course you and are
happier every day: good people always are. It is amazing
how happiness entirely depends on goodness. . . . I should

like to send all sorts of messages to . He will understand
them, for they are hard to speak out. Don’t you think that
all real messages are understood? They depend on a look
or a handshake, not on what is said. If one tries to say it,
one spoils it. But you will know that I am thinking much
of both of you. God bless and keep you both.’

‘The Athenzeum : November 6, 1899.

‘I must scribble a line to tell you how much I feel for
you. I am always thinking of your trial, which is a very
real one, and comes home to many. But you know how
hard it is for anyone outside to say the right thing. Those
who are about you do not know how to say what they feel ;
they only feel their own incompetence. It is hard to know
that one has to look on and cannot help.

‘There is nothing for it but such courage as you can
summon, and to go about other things as much as you can.
There are hardships on every side; alas! we have to learn
what war means.’

To his niece Winifred ‘ November 3, 1899.

‘The war is horrible in some ways. But we will never
get rid of war, and we have to learn its lessons. A nation’s
life, after all, depends on its belief in itself: and we have to
settle whether South Africa is to be brought under our ideas
or under those of the Boers. I do not know whether or no
it was necessary to raise the question now. Mr. Chamberlain
‘ thought so decidedly. But if the question is raised, it must
be settled. We are having some of our conceit and self-con-
fidence abated—that is good for us. We have much to learn
after a long period of having our own way.’

On November 8, he lectured for the London Reform
Union to a large audience in the Queen’s Hall. He writes on
October 26: ‘I have also a lecture to write on “London in
the Days of Elizabeth,” ’ which I began on Monday, and must
finish soon. It rather amuses me to have a definite thing to
read about. It is only this that drives me back again to
consult old books,’

On the last Sunday in November he was engaged to preach
before the Queen, and was disappointed at having to refuse
* Printed in Historical Lectures and Addresses.

DD2

404 THE LONDON CHURCH CONGRESS 1899

an invitation to Sandringham for the same Sunday to meet
the Emperor of Germany. But the Queen heard of the
invitation, and fixed another Sunday for his visit to Windsor.

To his niece Winifred * Fulham Palace : November 17, 1899.

‘I am going to Sandringham to meet the German
Emperor. Emperors are a class with whom it is difficult to
have a large acquaintance, but mine is extending, you see.’

To his niece Ella * Sandringham : November 29, 1899.

‘Iam here, and have been making the acquaintance of
the German Emperor. It seems ridiculous that I should do
such things; who would have thought it ten years ago?
Yet I have been having a long talk with him about Germany
and England, and the politics of Europe. Such is life. He
is a very nice and attractive man. The Empress also is quiet
and intelligent. We have all been taking a long walk,
Emperor and Empress, Prince and Princess of Wales, and all
their children, and evena grandchild, Prince Edward of York.
The old Duke of Cambridge was there, with a vast multitude
of others.’

In the course of his sermon * at Sandringham he said :

‘A nation, like an individual, has much to learn, and must
learn it, as the individual learns, mainly by sympathetic inter-
course with like-minded nations. On this gradual education
of nations, more than anything else, the hope of the world’s
future depends. Nations with like ideas of righteousness go
forth on their separate ways, not that they may emphasise the
differences which arise from differing experience, but that they
may bring the results of their experience to a common stock.
The Teutonic race has the same fundamental ideas. It has
the same sense of duty, the same conception of conscience,
the same aspiration after justice as the highest expression of
national righteousness. We cannot shut our eyes to the
responsibility which God’s Providence has placed upon the
nations of the Teutonic race. . . . It is not enough that each
nation should recognise and glorify these ideas as it knows
them. It must learn from the experience of other nations to
understand them better and apply them more thoroughly.
Is not this the task which lies before the great nations of the
Teutonic stock? Shall we not combine in a spirit of com-
radeship to help one another to perform a work which we
have in common ?’

Published in The Mind of St. Peter and other Sermons.

1899 VISIT TO WINDSOR 405

To his niece Winifred ‘Fulham: December 1, 1899.

‘I have been in the usual struggle after my time at
Sandringham, which I enjoyed. The Emperor asked to have
my sermon printed, so I have been busy in writingit out... .
I see you want to know how one behaves to an emperor—just
as I do to the Queen : I bow and take his hand if he gives it.
On Sunday night at Sandringham, after dinner, I was stand-
ing talking to Lord Acton, when the Emperor came up and
began a conversation. Presently he said, “Shall we sit
down?” So we sat by ourselves and continued our talk till
the Prince came and said: “The Princess wishes to say
good-night before she goes to bed.” What do you think we
talked about? Ghosts and second-sight and apparitions: the

evidence for it and its meaning.’ é Thecindbied 48
ecem der le

‘I went to Windsor on Saturday, and preached to the
Queen on Sunday, and then took a walk. After lunch I sat
and read and felt a crick in my leg, which I thought would go
away. Sol went to St. George’s Chapel for service, and could
scarcely hobble back. I hobbled to dinner, where the Duke
of Cambridge spotted me hobbling, and called the Queen’s
attention, who was very perturbed, and sent to me to sit
down after dinner. Then she sent her doctor before I went
to bed, and next morning, at half-past 8, sent to inquire
how I was, and to say that I was not to go away if I was
suffering. However, I had to go at 9.30, and the Queen
telegraphed the next day to ask how I was. You see what
an old dear she is... . The war news is terrible. Never
have we been so low. No one can foresee the future. We
have been for a long time much too arrogant and insolent,
and we must repent and learn humility. It is too dreadful.
This will be a quiet Christmas for everybody. No one
knows what personal disasters may be befalling relatives and
friends from day to day. We must think and pray and
humble ourselves. Life is becoming a very serious matter to
us all, and we must learn to face its seriousness. But the
joys of quiet affection still remain, and nothing can affect love
which abides when all else goes.’

After getting home from Windsor he was obliged to stay
in bed for several days, and on one day had a sudden and most
alarming attack of violent internal pain, the cause of which
was never really discovered. He spent in bed the terrible
week when the news of one crushing disaster after another
reached England from South Africa.

apaaav’ec FCRIIECZCE
TIRRARY ST. MARYS COLLEGE

406 THE LONDON CHURCH CONGRESS 1899

He was just able to hold his Christmas Ordination,
and on December 29 preached at a service of intercession
for the war held in St. Paul’s Cathedral. He said that we
must use rightly the sharp reminder which God had given
us to save us from the spirit of self-satisfied presumption ;
we could only venture to stand before God if we could
plead that in a blind and fitful way we had still been
true to the high purpose with which He had entrusted us.
War was only a revealer of principles always at work, and
showed the powers which were there already ; in praying for
the soldiers we prayed also for ourselves, that we might bear
with patience whatever God sent us. War filled us with a
sense of our individual powerlessness, but it was the wisdom
of the people as a whole that was shown in its statesmen and
generals, and none must forget their responsibility for their
opinions.’

When asked by one of the daily papers for a motto for
the New Year, he sent these lines:

Oh, earlier shall the rosebuds blow
In after years, those happier years,

And children weep when we lie low
Far fewer tears, far softer tears.

Oh, true shall boyish laughter ring
Like tinkling chimes in kinder times,

And merrier shall the maidens sing,
And I not there, and I not there.?

To his niece Ella ‘ Fulham Palace: January 11, 1900.

‘I need cheering up, as I do not feel very vigorous yet,
and my holidays are coming to an end, as I have to work
hard again. I have felt that pottering about and taking
holiday was necessary; and have shown Winnie all the
museums in London. . . . Lately the weather has been quite
nice. We had a lovely day at Hampton Court on Tuesday.
It looked quite charming; perhaps winter lights agree with
old red brick buildings.’

LETTERS 1899

To Miss Mary Bateson ‘Fulham Palace: February 3, 1899.

‘My dear Mary,—Only yesterday my chaplain unearthed
your catalogue of Sion Coll. library from a mass of docu-

1 Published in 7he Mind of St. Peter and other Sermons. * Jonica, p. 59.

1899 LETTERS 407

ments in his room, by which it had been covered. Some-
times it happens that parcels are overlooked when we are
very busy, and then confusion arises.

‘Thank you very much for it. It represents an enormous
amount of labour, and is done with a thoroughness that ought
to satisfy even Lord Acton. It is a great thing to keep up
a high standard of editing. It is not a point on which we in
England excel ; but I hope that the art is spreading.

‘Of course your work will meet with little recognition at
first; but it will be very useful to students, and in future
generations men will praise your name. This is all we can
hope for. Happy is the being who can look forward quietly
to the future, instead of being exposed to the jibes of the
present. Compare yourself with me and rejoice.

‘I hope that Leicester! is progressing. Nothing progresses
that I do.’

To his son Walter (in Frankfort) ‘ February 14, 1899.

‘Dearest Walter,—I have just grasped the terrible fact that
you will be twenty-one on Friday. I call it “terrible” because
the thought of all the family growing up makes me meditate
on the past and on the future. The past is very nice to
think of : and I suppose it is no good attempting to forecast
the future. So I will withdraw the epithet, and accept the
fact. I do not know that there is anything very sad in the
thought that you come of age without entering into a large
possession. It is better, after all, to make one’s own way in
the world, and consider what one wants to do and be.
People are not very happy in my experience who find life
_ made ready for them. They do not get much out of it. All

that is worth having comes from one’s own effort. These
are painfully moral remarks: you will think them very dull.
But I mean that I wish you very much happiness in the
future, with plenty of energy, a clear purpose in life, a cheer-
ful and contented spirit, a love of things high and holy, which
never fails to give satisfaction and peace of mind.

‘I have been very busy lately, but I do not wish to
grumble. I have had tolerably peaceful evenings, except for
dinner parties, of which we have been having a series... .
On Thursday I had to make a speech in the House of Lords.
It is a dreadful thing to do, as no one cheers or looks at you,
or seems to listen. You have to stagger on blindly, and do
not know if you are making an ass of yourself or not. How-

= ' The Municipal Records of Leicester, which Miss Bateson was engaged in
ting.

408 THE LONDON CHURCH CONGRESS 1899

ever it does not matter. I think, however, that our speeches
did good, and stopped the nonsense talked about church
matters. . . . Probably you find that your life gives you time
to think. The general life of a family hides the necessity of
individual thought. There is always someone to talk to, or
a book to pick up, or something trifling to do. Sometimes
you may find it dull to be thrown on yourself so much: but
it is a useful thing. We have all of us to find ourselves;
some people take a long time in making the discovery.’

ToC. D. * Windsor Castle: February 19, 1899.

‘We English are very curious people; we are so shy and
reserved ; it is hard for us to talk to one another about what
is deepest in our being. Of course I wanted to talk to you
about all sorts of things, but did not like to begin. I suppose
that is due to my own feebleness.

‘ How various is human character : how little do we know
of all that happens in another’s soul, even of the outlines of
the process that is going on and is the greatest reality of
their life! How dull and stupid and short-sighted we are!

‘Dear, the certainty of faith comes from believing. It is
like any great hypothesis of science, it proves itself by
accounting for what we see. Or rather, science accounts for
what we see: religion for what we feel.

‘I understand that it is a trial to you to have agnostic
friends whom you love and respect, who are higher-minded
and better than most Christians whom you know. It is also
the case with me. I have many friends of that kind, with
whom I feel more at ease, with whom on many points I feel
in more real agreement, than with the vast multitude of those
who symbolise with me. But I do not presume to judge
them: nor dol understand them. I can only look into myself,
and try to understand what I see there. I know my own
needs, I must do my best for them. I must be true to the
best I know. I cannot know how or what others know.
But this much I see—that opinions can be precise and
clear as the field which they cover is small. If we try to
grasp the world as it is, language fails us in our attempts to
explain—we must fee/, we must sympathise, we must break
out into parable. Life can only be explained by a Life: and
I see in Jesus that life of which all other life is but a partial
reflex. I always find that scepticism narrows the real
problem, refuses to face the actual facts, substitutes energy
in reforming the world for power to deal with it as it is.
I can sympathise with all that it has to say and all that it

1899 LETTERS 40g

tries to do: but there is so much beyond. The world is
a pathless wilderness : it purposes to turn it into a watered
garden. This is an attractive prospect—but now [how]?

‘All purely intellectual positions break down. They go
so far and no further. They are beset by limitations.
How striking is the epistle for to-day,’ in which St. Paul,
burning with anxiety to explain his own real self, what he
was and what he did, can only do so by a series of contra-
dictory propositions. It is so true to life. Weare clear by
missing out half the elements involved. It is not vague
emotion when we grapple with immensity: and there is
immensity in every human soul. Its progress is marvellous,
inexplicable. The simplest soul is full of amazing problems.
Try to explain yourself as you can, there is a vast residuum
which you cannot turn into shape. How is all this to be
dealt with? 1 answer, only by conscious communion with
a Person who zs Life and Truth.

‘Forgive this. Write to me again. 1 have been preach-
ing to the Queen, who is marvellously well and cheery, and
as clever as can be. 1 had a long talk with her last night to
my real comfort.’ ?

About the dedication ot a book which he had accepted without being
sufficiently acquainted with the author's views on church questions, which

were pointed out to him by one of his clergy. ‘ February 27, 1899.

‘When I have made a mistake I try to learn its lesson for
future purposes of guidance. But one lesson is that it is very
difficult to undo the original mistake. 1 accepted the dedi-
cation of a book in ignorance of its contents. That was a
great error, and | will not be guilty of it again.

‘But if I try to mend it, | shall only succeed in calling atten-
tion to a worthless book, and giving it notoriety, which at pre-
sent it does not possess. If 1 send “ I withdraw the dedication,”
I should be referred to the publisher, who would only be too
glad of such an advertisement. I should call attention to the
objectionable passages which are now known only to a few.
An explanation only makes things worse. Silence is the
wisest course. The book will find its way rapidly to oblivion
if it be left alone.’ |

To G. H. * May 13, 1899.
‘I am very much interested by your lessons of illness,
They are really very valuable, and teach one very much about

* Epistle for the first Sunday in Lent, 2 Cor. vi. 1.

* He is reported to have said of the Queen that she was the best Liberal he
knew.

410 THE LONDON CHURCH CONGRESS 1899

oneself. Above all they teach one that one’s se/f is purely
one’s own, and that no one can help one. All the help is a
sense of love and sympathy that someone cares for one, for
one’s own sake. That shows how important one’s se/fis. I
think we are always clamouring for love, without considering
if we are really worth it. It has to be won like all other
things. These are things worth learning: and they help one
to see how one stands in the eyes of God, who gives us credit

for what man cannot see.’
‘Fulham Palace: June 21, 1899.

‘Yes, we all claim too much in life. We think that we
have a right to anything we claim: but we have to win it.
It is quite true that love cannot be explained, that is its
charm. But you will see that people who are loved are open,
simple, straightforward, sympathetic, who invite your confi-
dence. I think it is not quite true that some people cannot
earn love simply by being nice. All nice-minded people are
attractive. The people who are not attractive are those who
are selfish, self-asserting, insolent, conceited, wanting their
own way and so on. Such people make their own choice;
they prefer to force their way through the world. You do
not see any reason for helping them, and stand aside. You
will see that people get help just as they invite help. The
proud, stubborn, independent choose to stand alone, and
then ask to be loved also. But one loves the quiet, simple,
appealing nature. In fact, everybody responds to a reasonable
demand, and if we want anything we must make a reasonable
demand for it. Instead of this, everybody claims it asa right,
and grumbles when they do not get it. But the cause of love
in any particular case cannot be stated ; it arises because two
people understand one another and have found it out and
wr ‘Courmayeur: September 2, 1899.

‘I am sorry that you are gloomy. Of course the world is
always going wrong: that is tosay, it goes its way and not your
way. But you cannot help that, and must make the best
of it. If you look long enough at things there is a great deal
more good than evil, and evil is always tending to be wiped
out ifit does notimprove. Good and evil are curiously mixed,
and on the whole it is better to think people better than they
are than worse than they are; one can only hope that ex-
perience will teach them. . . . Anyhow it is of no use for you
to feel that the weight of the world rests on your shoulders.
Stand yourself: look at the things in which you can help.
Cheer up and make the best of things, and hope for a good
end. That is my advice.’

ie

Sh Eee ie

1899 LETTERS qari

To the Rev. Canon Cruttwell «Fulham Palace: October 3, 1899.

‘My dear Cruttwell,—Thank you very much for your
book.! I have looked through it, and think it excellent in every
way. Its temper is admirable, and above all it goes to real
points at issue. We shall never get on till we recognise what
they really are. I have been laying down lately that we
have really reached a point at which we have to take stock of
all that has been happening during the last fifty years: and
we must set to work patiently to determine how much of it can
be received into the system of the Church of England’

To the Rev. A. W. Hutton + Fulham Palace, S.W. : October 4, 1899.

‘My dear Mr. Hutton,—I am very much obliged to you
for sending me your edition of Maitland’s “ Essays ”—I quite
agree with you that itis now time for us to try and get nearer
the actual facts of the Reformation. Itseems that prejudices
have to be removed one by one, and that what is done to re-
move one prejudice tends to create another. The “ continuity ”
theory has been overdone. In the sense of continuity of or-
ganisation it is true; but this has been made to carry a vast
amount, which must be disentangled. The changes made in
England were changes in spirit, temper, appeal to learning,
and assertion of liberty. This must be more adequately
recognised.’

To one in great trouble — + Futham Palace, S.W. : October 9, 1899.

‘Iam very sorry for the sad story which you tell me of
the many sorrows which have beset you and yours. I fully
sympathise with your feelings and with the difficulties which
_ you experience. They are natural, and it is very hard
for another who does not feel them himself to speak any-
thing which does not seem cold and remote. It is not a
question for reason, but for feeling. It is a question as old
as humanity. It is the question of the book of Job. I
advise you to read that carefully in Dean Bradley’s “ Lec-
tures on Job.” Also do you know James Hinton’s “ The
Mystery of Pain”? That is the best book on the whole
subject. :

‘But let me saya few things. Our view of life depends on
our claims : and we tend to take our claims on a reasonable
average. But the fact of the existence of an average means
that some fall below.

‘ After all, life is an individual thing. It is quite true that
our lives are largely dependent on other lives. But what are

1 Six Lectures on the Oxford Movement.

412 THE LONDON CHURCH CONGRESS 1899

we in our very self? Sorrow, loss, bereavement, only raise
that question. Can we answer “I am nothing but my relations
to this or that person”? We would feel that this is unworthy.
It omits our permanent relation to God, which is really that
from which all other relations derive their force. J havea
place in the world, a life to live, a work to do, independent of
all outward things and of all other persons. It is a hard
strain for me to have to realise this sometimes. But it is the
fact. Perhaps no modern writer has expressed this so forcibly
as Browning. Read him.

‘I would tell you of a friend of mine, who had an unhappy
childhood, overshadowed by the misconduct of his two
brothers, who brought their father to his grave. On the
father’s death one of these disreputable brothers succeeded to
the property ; then the other. They had to be watched that
they did not fabricate an heir. At last my friend succeeded,
and purposed to enter public life, for which he had been care-
fully preparing himself. Just then his wife died... and
grief made him so far deaf as to overthrow all his projects.
He had to face life alone, afresh at the age of forty. Talking to
me about it all, he said, with emphasis at the end, “ Yet I would
not have it different after all. It has thrown me back upon
my very self.”

‘T tell you this because an example is better than precept.
Your life has been dislocated; you feel the pain and numb-
ness. Take courage: make itafresh. That is your task. It is
useless to murmur that there are many who have not that work
to do. Remember that the use of prayer is to bring our will
into accord with God’s will. Remember how God blessed the
latter years of Job. Remember that there must be examples
of heroism of various kinds. Your brother set an example in
one kind. Shall not his example weigh with you in another
and equally real sphere of heroism ?’

From his letters to his nieces

‘ February.—It is very “north country” to feel so much
concerned about giving trouble to other people. It is part of
the northern pride. We were made to give people trouble ;
and it is a very good thing for them in moderation.’

‘There is always so much to learn and so much to feel.
And one has to learn how to feel rightly: that is the
nuisance, One begins by thinking that one’s feelings at least
are all right, or do not matter, or that one is not responsible
for them. But alas one zs responsible for all that comes out
of them, and has to accept that position.’

1899 LETTERS 413

‘You want your intelligence developed to the level of
your feelings. Feel, but understand what and why you feel,
and what you make other people feel ; and what follows from
the indulgence of one’s feelings by themselves.’

‘One may take any amount of kindness from other
people ; but one must never let them pay money out of
pocket for anything. I think this is rather an important rule
to keep—in going about with people, for instance, only an
elderly man or woman may pay one’s fares : a young man
must not be permitted todoso. Obligations may be incurred
generally, but not specially. You stay with a person as long
as they and you like: the house is there and the food, and
you are only one more, and that does not matter. But any-
thing else is particular and attaches to oneself’

‘ March.—Yes, it is a difficult thing to learn as life goes
on, how grim it is. One sees that sometimes in the case of
others, and then forgets it, and thinks it will never come to
oneself.’

‘About the difficulty of finding new thoughts in one’s
surroundings, remember that there are always two sources
from which everyone can draw, nature and books. There
are also people; and humble folk are just as amusing as any
others. They often say shrewd things, and always have a
large experience behind them. Remember Wordsworth’s
“ Leech-gatherer.” He puts in that poem his sense of de-
pression, his joy in nature, and what he learned from a simple
man. You are finding out, in the case of your sick man, how
valuable is the result of life’s experience, and how one can find
it in simple folk in a clear form, seeing its results, and its
power to give contentment. Right principles work out right
conclusions, whatever the circumstances of life may be; wrong
principles never lead to anything, however nice the surround-
ings may seem. We have the root of our happiness within
us. It all consists in the power of seeing God and His work-
ings in the souls of others. Then life is full of interest.’

‘Love is founded on a perception of the finer side of
character, invisible and inexplainable to the ordinary person.
1 was at a concert last night listening to some words of
Shelley set to music. They spoke of a woman:

Who when my being overflowed

Was like a chalice to bright wine,
Which else had sunk into the thirsty earth.

It is all there. One’s being overflows: there are thoughts
which it is hard to express ; one does not know their value ;
if there is no one to receive them, they sink into the earth and

414 THE LONDON CHURCH CONGRESS 1899

leave no trace. But love is there with a golden chalice to
catch them, and show their brightness another beauty, and
make them a perpetual possession.’

‘ April—Yes, it is a very extraordinary thing how hard it
is to say one’s prayers rightly. Everybody always feels it.
It is asign how bad we naturally are. Do you remember
that the disciples came to Jesus and asked Him, “ Lord, zeach
us to pray.” It is a thing we cannot do by ourselves. I always
think the Collect so wise which claims for us no more than to
be “those to whom thou hast given an hearty desire to pray.”
It does not say that we can pray, but that God has given us
a wish to pray. It is a thing which does not come naturally,
but has to be practised and improved. I believe that every-
body supposes that everybody else prays more easily than
they do, but it is difficult for us all.’

‘I do not think that it is a mistake to have feelings,
but they have to be kept under control. I know people
who have schooled themselves into an unnatural coldness for
fear of being too impulsive. But, after all, our feelings
are our opportunities; they give a signal. ... Feelings
are beckonings and discoveries, not simply passing ex-
pressions of delight. The desire to do things for others
comes from a greater knowledge of others’ lives and characters.
Feelings ought to be constantly broadening our sympathies,
and showing how much there is in other people’s lives. It is
possible to do one’s duty in a cold outside way which does
not touch others: we have to try and do it with sympathy,
founded on the respect which comes from knowledge. But
we must regard our feelings as giving us knowledge rather
than mere enjoyment.’

‘ May.—You see that girls are very curious beings. They ©
are always at your age oppressed by a sense of activities
within them for which they find no scope. This is a natural
restlessness ; they are being impelled to find out how much
they can do. It is a painful process, and it has to be faced.
The worst of it is that there are few indications to help one.
One has to find out the answer for oneself... . The object
of life is to pull oneself together: to equate one’s energies
with one’s opportunities, and to make opportunities to fit
one’s energies. It is a hard job anyhow. But then, if life
could be made easy we should be lazy and dull.’

‘ June-—We have our fights to fight of different kinds.
Life would be very dull if we had not. But remember that
mistakes are serious: and it is worth many a fight not to
make a mistake. It sometimes seems hard that everyone

1899 LETTERS 415

should have to fight so constantly : but one learns a great
deal in the process, and it is only by one’s own efforts that
one’s life becomes richer and fuller. The object of all life’s
discipline is to have oneself in hand, and be able to act freely
up to the best one knows. Misery comes from having com-
mitted oneself to less than the best.’

‘ September.—One really begins to be a human being
when one can face the question “ After all what am / and
what are my immediate impressions worth?” I am but part
of a great whole which I am bound to serve and by regarding
which I really live. If I am to be myse/f, it must be because
[ keep in order my immediate impressions, my first desires,
my imperfect thoughts. ... Then there grows a true self,
which is strong because it is founded on law and is part of an
order of things which cannot fail becauseit iseternal. Some-
thing of this kind in some shape or another must be the
foundation of every real life.’

‘Ivrea: September 21, 1899.

‘It is well to have a good grumble sometimes, because it
clears things up. You see people are of different kinds. Let
me try to describe some of them from one point of view
—(1) There is the person who frankly throws herself on the
world and says “ Please take care of me. I will do what you
want me to do and amuse you, if only you will amuse me.” (2)
There is the person who goes her own way and quietly takes
what she wants for herself. (3) There is the person who is
ready to put everybody else right, and goes along shouting
out directions to others so fast that she is constantly
stumbling herself. (4) There is the person who quietly does
all she can for others without making any fuss about it.
’ Now each of these classes of people have their reward.
There is profound wisdom in our Lord’s words when He
said about people who were not satisfactory, “ Verily, I
say unto you they have their reward.” The world is a good-
natured place and pays. everybody quite fairly for service
rendered. But the mistake is that nobody is content with
her due wages, but wants somebody else’s wages. We act,
say, in a way to inspire esteem, and we say, “ Oh, but I
want affection.” We act so as to inspire affection, and we
say, “ What is that worth? I want respect.” So it goes on.
Further, we always suppose that all affection is of the same
kind : but it is not: it is of very divers kinds and answers to
divers kinds of characters. We all of us want another kind
than we work for. Look at the matter on a large scale. It
is curious how life is full of compensations. A favourite

416 THE LONDON CHURCH CONGRESS 18995

singer or actor is applauded to the skies, is overwhelmed
with bouquets, is an object of universal admiration, is spoiled
and petted in every way. Why? _ Because the pleasure
which she gives is immediate, is intense for the moment,
passes away, and leaves little behind. It is paid for on the
spot, because it is consumed on the spot. A great poet, a
great statesman, is neglected for years, has to fight his way
to the front, is then sharply criticised, is always liable to
violent abuse. He goes on his way knowing that what he
does and says will bear its fruit, not in the immediate
pleasure which it gives, but in the good it does in the long
run. He will be judged not now, but by posterity. It is
curious to see how this law of compensation works out.

‘So you see life consists in knowing what we are doing and
what reward we are working for (I mean here and now) and
taking what is our due.’

‘ October.—It is curious to see people who have done
things. It is impossible to say why they did them of all
people. It is not so much special gifts, or any exceptional
zeal orearnestness. There may be many zealous people, but
they do not succeed. All depends on a certain force, insight,
and adaptability which cannot be taught.’

To F. S. Stevenson, Esq. ‘Fulham Palace: November 3, 1£99.

‘My dear Sir.—I am very much obliged to you for your
Life of Grosseteste. I sincerely rejoice that a scholarly life
of so great a man should have been undertaken so success-
fully. I have long thought that Grosseteste deserved a good
monograph, and I congratulate you on having filled up the
want so admirably.

‘I do not notice that you have referred to a little pamphlet
of Dr. Luard, “England and the Holy See.” Perhaps you
did not come across it. It was a sort of Vorgeschichte to
Grosseteste, dealing with the period of the Legatine Govern-
ment. I only mention it because I think that Luard is a
man whose excellent work is sometimes overlooked.

‘One side of Grosseteste interested me. England, as in
many things, showed an example in this—that reform in the
Church was impossible within the limits of the curial system.
One feels that Grosseteste, strong as he was, was continually
being pulled up short, and felt that his action became incon-
clusive. It is no wonder that his successors found a difficulty
in going on, and composed themselves to make the best of
what they could not mend. England had little belief in the
conciliar movement. It had turned its attention to making
the best terms for itself.’

1899 LETTERS 417

To his daughter Beatrice (then in America)
‘ Fulham Palace: November 20, 1899.

‘ Dearest B.,—I have been following your adventures with
great interest. You have been going over the places where
I went, and have been seeing them in the same sort of way.
I dare say that you have discovered that America is very like
England, though the Americans persist in thinking that it is
not. I suppose that individuals and nations alike have a craze
for thinking themselves original—not seeing that originality
is only possible in very small limits, and must certainly be
left to other people to discover in us, not to be made known
by ourselves.

‘The general tenor of my life is as usual ; many things to
do and not much apparent result. I was just saying to
mother to-day that the Archbishop was 78—to-day was his
birthday—and that I perfectly quailed at the thought of going
on for twenty years more. She consoled me by the remark,
which may be true, that the period which I had reached in
my work in London was perhaps the most trying—when
novelty had worn off, when I had said what I had to say,
when people had first listened and then criticised ; and that
I must wait a bit for the habit of going on. I must hope so,
but all through life I have had the same difficulty and have
never made up my mind what I ought to do. I can produce
most effect by frankness, by being myself, by being willing to
be misunderstood ; but while I do something for individuals
in this way, I never know if repression of self and decorous
dulness would not better fit an official position. If you are
going to be yourself, you must pay for it: but ought a bishop
to have anything to pay? Of course he must have some-
thing ; but can I struggle on in the effort to educate people
at large? This frequently comes into my mind. Ought I
to get rid of myself more and become dull and solemn?

‘This sounds like a moan. I did not sit down to moan,
but to tell you of a visit to Sandringham to meet the Emperor
and Empress of Germany. I went to preach, and the Prince
of Wales asked me to say something about friendly relations
between England, Germany, and America. This was rather
awful, and I preached a sermon with some dismay. But the
Emperor liked it very much. It was quite possible that he
should have resented an appearance oflecturing him. Buthe
said “ That was excellent: it is just what I am trying to
teach my people.” . . . The Emperor’s vigour is tremendous :
he is always all there: and it is impossible not to look with
awe on the man whose first act was to dismiss Bismarck.

_ VOL, Il. | EE

418 THE LONDON CHURCH CONGRESS 1899

‘ Altogether his visit seemed to please him, and all his suite
and his Prime Minister Biilow, who accompanied him, went
out of their way to say so. It was impossible not to feel that
there was great political importance attaching to it. It was
a very funny feeling for me that I was called to play a little
part in determining the future of European politics. What I
said, and how the Emperor took it, will go to all the persons
who have to determine those great matters. You can
imagine my thankfulness that I succeeded. I was aghast at
the Prince’s message, which came to me two days before.
But I have learned that the Prince of Wales is always right
about practical matters, and knows what he is about. Lord
Acton was there also, and I enjoyed a talk with him. I did
gymnastics of a terrific kind with my future King, to the
Emperor's great amusement. By my future King I mean
Prince Edward of York.’

‘Fulham Palace: December 14, 1899.

‘ Dearest B.,—I feel that I must write you a few words of
greeting for Christmas. . . . I am more and more amused by
the account of your meeting exactly the same persons as we
met, and finding them just the same as we did. But it is the
same I believe in every country. There is a certain cosmo-
politan set whose duty it is to represent their country to
foreigners, and foreigners accept the representation for truth.
. .. I think that this war and all that is befalling us is rather
opening the eyes of the British public. I hope that it is
teaching them a little humility. I am afraid that I have so
long been convinced that we need the lesson that I cannot
decline to pay the necessary price. We are being taught
better behaviour in a very decided manner. Well, we must
learn gladly and willingly. I am bound to admit that
we are behaving very well under it, but we are feeling it
deeply ; and I think that we are conscious that everybody is
glad to see some of the conceit taken out of us. Well, well:
we must learn our lessons and take our reverses.’

‘Loa DD. ‘Fulham Palace : December 22, 1899.

‘... As life goes on we all of us learn to trust less in
ourselves. That is a great lesson to learn, as the fault of the
present day, perhaps of all days, is excessive individualism
and self-confidence. It seems to me that the war is giving
us food for reflection on that point. But I was very
_ much struck a little time ago by the report which an agnos-
tic lady gave me of her experience of a visit to the
Australian colonies, She said: “ One thing I have learned—

1899 LETTERS 419

the necessity of voluntary schools and religious teaching.
I may not agree with its results, but then I must have some
basis for my difference. It does not do for people to have
no basis for their life except the desire for material well-being.
This only produces arrogance, and what I can only de-
scribe as dl/atancy.”

‘Man cannot really live without some sense of awe, some
relationship of his own life to a bigger set of conditions. We
learn this as we grow older, and happiness is only to be found
in “committing our way unto the Lord.” What are my
ways? I find other people with different ways. Why should
my ways be better than theirs? There is no test except the
end to which they lead. And the end becomes more and
more important till it absorbs the ways.

‘Is not this the answer to our dread of responsibility ?
Who is sufficient for these things? we often ask. Our life
supplies innumerable problems which we cannot answer—
and when we have an answer, no one will listen to it. There
is only one answer, “Go on: do your best.” The life of our
affections is given us to show how much we can do for some:
it always seems to me that we ought by increasing sympathy
to extend that power to more. Our affections are founded
simply on a power of vision in a limited sphere. To see more,
that is what we need.

‘I am sending you a sermon of mine, not that it is of any
merit, but it pleased the German Emperor, who asked for it
to be printed. He with his responsibility felt something of
the process which I tried to describe. Itisa process applicable
to all things.’

EE2

CHAPTER XIII

THE LAST YEAR

THE new year opened gloomily. The whole nation was
weighed down by the deep anxiety of the war. A peaceful
settlement of the differences within the Church seemed as
remote as ever. The Bishop wrote in the autumn of 1899:

‘] think that the recalcitrant clergy are falling in, but this
is merely a trifle, and does not touch the real position. There
is no hope of people agreeing : they must learn to agree to
differ and live in peace. But the public mind is now taken
up with the war. Luckily it cannot keep two things at once.
This isa mercy. It will pitch into the Boers instead of the
bishops. All the same I would much rather bear the brunt
of all things than have this horrid war going on.’

His tone of mind at the beginning of 1900 is shown in his
message to his diocese :

‘I am asked to write a few words by way of a New
Year’s message to the diocese. I do so with great reluctance,
for my words must be words of warning, not of encourage-
ment.

‘We cannot shut our ears to the voice of God, which is
speaking to us as a nation. It rebukes our pride and our self-
conceit ; it warns us that we must strive, more than we have
been striving of late, to show ourselves worthy of our place in
the world.

‘We must set ourselves to learn that lesson; to practise
greater humility ; to have less confidence in our own inherent
wisdom ; to have more sympathy for other peoples, and more
charity towards all men. 7

‘I wish that I could say that the Church had been doing
its best to teach this needful lesson to the English people.
Unfortunately it has only been reproducing in its own quarrels
the temper that prevails. Just in the point where an example
was most needed, it has not been given. The Church has

1900 THE TESTIMONY OF THE CHURCH 421

adopted the methods of politics. Ithas presented the appear-
ance of parties contending against one another. It has injured
its spiritual influence by descending to trivial disputes. It
has not shown the English people a higher spirit or a better
wa

Y should not be true to my office if I did not say this.
We of the clergy have need to humble ourselves before God,
recognising our special responsibility for the popular temper.
The Church is the one organisation that can deal faithfully
with this temper. Instead of trying to educate it, the Church
has adopted it, and has set before the public eye the familiar
spectacle of bodies of Englishmen desperately determined to
have their own way by every means in their power.

‘I would beseech you to think of this in the presence of
God ; and to remember that if the Church fails to set forth to
the world a higher spirit than the world can produce, it fails
altogether.

‘I leave with you a simple motto, suggested by the
season :

TO emtetkes Uu@v yrorbnre macw avOperots.
‘Let your forbearance be known unto all men.’—Phil. iv. 5.

‘To guide you in your meditations I cannot do better than
quote the words of Aristotle (Rhet. 1, xiii.).

‘“ Tt is éarveixeva to pardon human failings; to look to the
lawgiver, not to the law; to the spirit, not to the letter; to
the intention, not to the action; to the whole, not to the
part; to the character of the actor in the long run, and notin
the present moment ; to remember good rather than evil, and
good that one has received rather than good one has done; to
‘bear being injured; to wish to settle a matter by words rather
than deeds.” ’

With growing seriousness he expressed on many occasions
his conviction that the difficulties in the Church were caused
by self-will, by desire to have their own way on the part of
men who had grown so heated in their disputes about trifles
that ‘they do not know the depths to which they descend ;’
it seemed to him that the assertion of self-will went so far
sometimes that it could only be described as ‘ human wicked-
ness and folly.’ He constantly strove in his private letters and
interviews to get men to see the true proportion of things, to
realise the effect of their conduct on the world.

He wrote: ‘One of the greatest forms of testimony which
the Church can bear is to show the world that it is the home

422 THE LAST YEAR 1900

of a temper which has its roots in something which is far
beyond the world and its ways.’

His great difficulty was to know how to treat the
recalcitrant clergy who had refused to follow his directions.
Speaking to his diocesan conference he said :

‘I smile when I open my letters, and constantly find
myself earnestly exhorted to put down immediately particular
things and particular persons. I am surprised at the readi-
ness which I am sorry to say seems to exist in the minds of
some people to reinstate the Inquisition, and to clothe the
Bishop of London with the power of Inquisitor-General. I
can only say that I do not believe in the Inquisition, and that
there is no post which I would less willingly occupy than that
of Inquisitor.’

He was keenly desirous to avoid prosecution. He wrote:
‘It is abhorrent to all my views to proceed against an
excellent clergyman for his ritual.’ He tried to show the
wisdom of submission. ‘ The extreme party would enormously
strengthen themselves by showing that they were willing to
obey. This would destroy the outcry about lawlessness,
and would create sympathy for them. They would set an
example to the other side which they would be bound to
follow in the way of levelling up. This is the great good
which I hope ultimately to get out of the “ Crisis.”’

But he knew that the extreme party itself did not alto-
gether object to the idea of prosecution. ‘Behind them
stands an amount of vague belief that it would not be a bad
thing for somebody to be prosecuted as a protest. Of course
there is always popular sympathy for a sufferer.’ In his
opinion ‘ ritualists had always won by prosecutions; and the
fact that the protestants knew this gave an air of unreality
to their tactics, for ‘they did not dare to prosecute themselves
and would do nothing but abuse the bishops for not prose-
cuting. The only wise method by which the bishops could
proceed was that of persuasion. ‘They are dealing with
tendencies of thought which require gentle handling. Men
who have gone further than they intended can easily be
stratified into obstinacy, but can only gradually be persuaded
to withdraw from a position which has to be proved to be
untenable. Again, ‘ There are only two ways of dealing with

F
.
;
4
4
F
i

1g00 THE BISHOP’S POLICY 423

religious opinions, that of Gamaliel and that of the Inquisition.
I always regard Gamaliel as the first exponent of liberal
opinions,’

On another occasion he wrote to a correspondent who
asked whether, in the view of a general election, a clear repre-
sentation of church issues and their difficulties might not be
useful.

* July 27, 1900.

‘It seems to me that the question of legislative inter-
ference with opinions ought to be considered on general
grounds. When people feel strongly, they think that they
can achieve their purpose by sharpening penalties. Where
opinions are concerned this has always been a fatal mode of
procedure in England. Anything that resembles persecution ©
provokes resistance, gives undue importance to the opinions
attacked, and creates popular sympathy with those who seem
to differ for conscience sake. The way to deal with erroneous
opinions is to drag them to light, to force them to state them-
selves definitely, and to prove their scanty basis. Opinions
die out for want of support, and people cease to support
them when they see their consequences. A foolish view is
only confounded by being confronted with a wise one. The
legislation to try for is, I think, the formation of a representa-
tive synod of the Church, including the laity. The formation
of such a body would pit the undoubted opinion of the
Church against individual eccentricity.’

His policy was to go on with his unwearying efforts of
. persuasion, with his attempts to get men on both sides to
understand the real points at issue, and to avoid new causes
for irritation. To a request that he would allow the use of
incense on Easter Day, he answered :

‘London House: March 31, 1900.

‘My dear Mr. Westall,—-! quite understand. your wishes.
But I am bound to ask you “ Is it worth while?” Your action
will be published, will be commented on, and resented as
being contrary to your undertaking. I shall be asked about
it, and shall have great difficulty in explaining it. You and
your people made a sacrifice, in your own eyes, for the sake
of general peace. This is a worthy thing todo. My advice
is: Do not extenuate that sacrifice and its efficacy by any-
thing which may be represented and regarded as an outbreak
of petulance.’

424 THE LAST YEAR 1900

‘London House: April 3, 1909.

‘My dear Mr. Westall,—You are always so kind and
good to me that you will understand a parable.

‘I always wonder what horses think about a coachman.
I imagine that they think him stupid, unjust, particular about
unnecessary trifles, and always checking them needlessly.
But his business is to get the coach along without upsetting
it. He is on the box, and sees more than anybody else. He
is not responsible for the obstacles in the road, and if he
could regulate a// the traffic, he could make things easy all
round. But alas he is limited to the obscure and ignoble
duty of steering his own vehicle to the best of his power.’

He was careful to check at.the outset all possible disturb-
ances. Mr. Kensit, whom he described as ‘wishing to
keep himself notorious,’ had decided to protest against the
ordination of certain candidates. The Bishop’s quiet way of
meeting his protest speedily reduced him to silence, and the
majority of the congregation in St. Paul’s were not aware
that a protest had been made. Insolent letters from Mr.
Kensit bidding him do his duty were left unanswered.

Details of ritual might appear to be the chief cause of the
prevailing agitation; these could not be neglected, but the
Bishop’s interest was with the currents of thought of which
these things were but the symptom. He wrote in February:
‘My object is to go on recalling everybody to the real issues
which must be faced, enlarging steadily the basis of agree-
ment, and defining the principles which must determine the
points of difference. Progress on this line is slow ; but there
is progress, and every step taken in this direction is per-
manent.’

His visitation this year gave him opportunity to state
his views. He departed from the customary method by
deciding to charge his clergy before he received the answers
to the questions which he had addressed to them. He
said: ‘I wish to feel myself quite free in expressing my
own opinions on matters of grave importance, and I could
feel this better if I were avowedly speaking from general
impressions rather than particular information. I wish to
avoid the appearance of addressing admonitions to particular
bodies of the clergy.’ When he had received the answers to
his questions from the clergy, he intended to communicate

1900 THE BISHOP’S CHARGE 425

with them privately on any points which seemed to require
it. He delivered his Charge in St. Paul’s Cathedral on
February 21. Hewrote to his niece the next day: ‘I
delivered an enormous Charge yesterday to my clergy, and
found it less trying than I supposed to speak for an hour and
a half in St. Paul’s. It will now afford material for everyone
to attack me for a fortnight till they forget it.’

In this Charge he said that he was constrained to leave
the many topics connected with the peculiar problems raised
by London, and consider how present controversies might be
lessened by a fair statement of the real points at issue. To
show why certain tendencies within the Church were viewed
with suspicion, he said that it was necessary to consider what
had happened at the Reformation. Men, stirred by an
awakened national consciousness had then ‘demanded that
the ecclesiastical system should be in accordance with their
knowledge, and with the sense of responsibility for their own
life and actions which passing events forced upon them.’
The English people are not primarily interested in theological
questions ‘ from a strictly theological point of view; but they
regard with suspicion any form of theological opinions which
they think even remotely threatens that idea of freedom
which they rightly hold dear.’ He had often said that the
practices which the so-called Catholic party wished to revive
were those of the medizval not the primitive Church ; and
now he pointed out that at the Reformation the Church of
’ England had withdrawn from the error of the medizval
Church, which tried ‘to produce by external means the
outward appearance of a Christian life without the inward
conviction on which alone such a life can be based,’ to ‘ the
solid ground of primitive practice.’ To steer the way between
too great love of antiquity and an undue disregard of the
past, we must recognise ‘the true temper of the Church of
England, and hold to that as our guide.’ People mean
by the principles of the Reformation ‘those changes in
the medieval system which made for liberty and for the
training of the individual to a sense of his responsibility
in the sight of God.’ If all that was incidental and trivial
were disregarded, recent controversy would be found to be
concerned with two matters regarded as cardinal points at

426 THE LAST YEAR 1900

the Keformation—‘the restoration of the primitive concep-
tion of Holy Communion for the medizval conception of
the mass, and the abolition of the disciplinary requirement
of confession as necessary before communion.’ He described
the abuses which had made the reformers so determined
once more to ‘turn the mass into a communion ;’ the object
which the Church of England had ever pursued was ‘ to make
the Holy Communion a service for the people, to which they
came prepared to receive the gifts of grace in the way which
Jesus had appointed. Our own time has seen a fuller accom-
plishment of that object than any previous period has
witnessed. ...’ It is greathy to be regretted that this
advance towards the due appreciation of the mind of the
Church should be checked by anything which even remotely
suggests a desire to return to that conception of the Holy
Communion which was so pernicious. It was that conception
which in the sixteenth century was denoted by the use of the
term mass. .. . ‘Few things have done more mischief than
the needless use of this word, partly from a modern tendency
towards brevity, but more from a desire to obliterate old dis-
tinctions, and to restore unity by agreement in words when
there was no corresponding unity in the thing signified.’ This,
and the desire to enforce fasting communion as obligatory,
created suspicion, and put hindrance in the way of adapting
the services of the Church to the requirements of modern
life. ‘By calling a custom a “catholic custom” you do not
exempt it from the necessity of reasonable explanation.
Customs were framed as helps, not as hindrances ; they were
not meant to be burdens to generations whose habits of life
had changed.’ He had never approved of the attempt to
enforce fasting communion, which seemed to him wanting in
common sense. He pointed out in this Charge that the
ancient rule of receiving the communion fasting had arisen
when the habits of the people were very different from those
of the present day, and that ‘if we set up an ancient rule as
universally binding, we forget its relation to the facts of the
life of those for whom it was framed.’

In speaking of confession he said that he had no fear of
Englishmen again becoming priest-ridden ; ‘the position of
the Church of England is that confession is left to every

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1900 UNITY 427

man’s discretion,’ his ‘liberty should be respected on all
sides ;’ confession should not be ‘urged on the young and
impressionable, but is to be left to the discretion of those
whose minds are mature. Those who were alarmed at
the increase of confession ought to investigate its causes, ‘the
bustle and hurry of modern life which produced a sense of
helplessness, and the decline in parental authority, proceeding
largely from the decay of family religion.’

He insisted that the principles of the Church of England
must be fully stated and loyally acted upon. He called
attention to the obligation to say morning and evening
prayer daily in every church. ‘The universal adoption of
this plain direction of the Prayer Book would do more to
bring us all together in a proper understanding of our
common duty than anything else. It would be a blessing
to the spiritual life of the clergy.’ Holy days should be
observed. ‘The many lessons to be learned from them
should not be forgotten.’ Loyalty to the Prayer Book
demands that the Athanasian Creed should be said as ap-
pointed, ‘There is a mutual tendency for everyone to think
that his own deviations are obviously excellent,’ but ‘ danger
begins when each man undertakes to judge his own cause
and dispenses himself from the need of too strict obedi-
ence... . There are many points on which the wishes of
the clergy and the congregation may have free power of
choice; but such points must not affect the system and the
principles of the Church.’ He concluded with an appeal for
agreement. ‘Let us be men enough to agree. There is only
one possible basis of agreement—the frank acceptance of the
historic position of the Church of England, based on a recog-
nition of its great possibilities in the future... . Much has
happened lately that has given us all great food for reflection.
Surely we have felt the meaning of our national life more
clearly than we ever did before—its meaning not only to
ourselves, but to the world. ... I recognise the germs of
a noble aspiration in attempts to break down England’s
insularity by schemes for the corporate reunion of Christen-
dom .. . but plans for structural unity hinder that unity of
spirit which must come first. They repel many more than
they attract. Outward forms are but coverings, charity grows

428 THE LAST YEAR 1900

from within. The great hindrance to the growth of charity
is want of confidence in one another’s intentions. ... I feel
profoundly how great a responsibility, how heavy a strain, is
cast upon us of this generation. . . . With the cry sounding
in our ears, “ Arise, shine,” how can we waste time by dis-
puting about the shape of our lanterns?’ !

At the diocesan conference in May, he said that the
Church Congress and his visitation had given him so many
opportunities of airing his opinions that he did not mean to
say much. He spoke chiefly of the proposal to hold a round
table conference about the matters in dispute in the Church.
He considered it of great importance. ‘It is quite true
that controversy is deplorable ; but it is equally true, when
we regard the constitution of the human mind, that when
questions are raised there should at all events be some
approximate solution arrived at. Of course the solution is
always approximate. We fall into the mistake constantly
of thinking that because there is a problem, there must
be an answer; that because a question is raised, it must
be settled. But as we regard the history of mankind we
see that, unfortunately or fortunately, as the case may be,
very few questions have ever been settled, and they certainly
never have been settled in the way in which each side
wished them to be settled. What was necessary to arrive
at in controversies was ‘the practical point embodied ir
them’... the limits within which any definite system was
workable. . . . The system ofthe English Church must, at all
events, be so clear and definite that it is somehow or other
workable and the main question at issue at present is
whether or not there are divergencies from a central system
so large as to threaten to make that system unworkable.’
To discover a workable basis for the Church of England
seemed to him what should be aimed at by conference.
To meet and discuss would teach a great deal about the
opinions of others which could be arrived at in no other
way, ‘things which seemed perfectly remote from our minds
when we read them simply as so many propositions
become more tolerable to us when we see them expressed
in the form of flesh and blood and clad with the sympathy

1 Published in 7he Church and the Nation.

SRE APES near

1900 THE ROUND TABLE CONFERENCE 429

which one human soul always carries to another.’ Conference
also would lead to ‘ the definition and appreciation of catch-
words’ which so often tended to ‘ give vitality to controversy ;
it would teach that, principles can be held in many different
forms.’ ‘The great fault that can be brought against the
Church of England is that it has shown a very decided re-
luctance to make room for new exhibitions of the working of
spiritual powers. . . . I am very sorry indeed for every
departure that was ever made from the Church of England
in this country, and I would have wished that those who
regulated the destinies of the Church at each of such crises
should have made many more concessions than they did, and
should have been willing even, if it were necessary for a time,
to depart from the assertion of principles which were of
great importance, trusting that those principles, if they really
were of the importance that they thought, would replace
themselves in view of the experience of the coming time ; we
can always recover things, and if things are eternally true,
then the eternal truth will inevitably prevail... . The ques-
tion comes to be this—cannot we better deal with diverging
tendencies which we object to, which we hope to overcome,
and which we want to put straight, by retaining them within
the system of the Church and thereby subjecting them to the
growing spiritual experience of the whole body? .. . I par-
ticularly dislike much of the language which has been used
in recent controversy, which draws a line between those who
are loyal and those who are disloyal to the Church of Eng-
land. Do we really suppose that there is any test of loyalty
except a man’s own internal consciousness of it?’ The
Bishop’s appeal for comprehension carried the conference
with it, and a resolution, moved by Prebendary Webb-Peploe
and seconded by Lord Halifax, ‘that this conference request
the President to appoint a round table conference, consist-
ing of members of the Church of England, on ritual and
the doctrines involved therein, to name the members, and to
fix the terms of reference,’ was carried unanimously.

One of his clergy (the present Dean of Peterborough)
writing to the Bishop after the diocesan conference said :

‘During the past forty years I have attended a good
many conferences of various kinds, but I cannot recollect one

430 et THE LAST YEAR 1900

where the spirit and tone and temper were so good. Men
surely spoke with a self-restraint and consideration for others
which are not toocommon; that we owe much of this blessing
to the fact that men in the diocese are more and more
trusting their Bishop I feel quite certain.’

The following letters deal with current controversies. The
train of thought is not always complete, because some of the
letters merely filled up gaps in a previous conversation.

‘ Fulham Palace: January 25, 1900.

‘Dear Dr. Cobb,—I do not think that it would be well for
me to take any part in recognising a special church society,
however much I might personally agree with its object.
May I put my point this way?”

‘We all wish to be free to work for the future. I do not
think that we are really fettered by Acts of Parliament. But
certain permanent principles were laid down at the Reforma-
tion. Those principles concerned the maintenance of indi
vidual freedom on the basis of personal religion. Now the
real question raised at present is this. Do, or do not, the
changes lately made in the accustomed way of performing
the services introduce tendencies which are opposed to those
fundamental principles?

‘I mean, progress can only be made when all that is good
in the past is retained—we do not want to subvert 1559, but
to absorb it, and go beyond it.

‘Can it be said that the arguments recently used are such
as to convince reasonable men that this is the object pursued ?
No one can stop development—but we must know what we
are developing. We may add to the wisdom of the
sixteenth century, but we cannot put that away in favour of
the ignorance of the fourteenth century.’

‘London House: February 2, 1goo.

‘My dear Dr. Cobb,—I agree with your views, with this
modification. The nonconformists and other objectors to
the Church confuse two things—the position of the Church
in itself and the existence of any religious organ in the
nation.

‘On this latter point their position is not quite sincere.
They are committed to the cry of “Free Church.” This does
not correspond to the wishes of the English people. Take
one example. The farewell to the London Volunteers in
St. Paul’s raised no question and satisfied everybody.

‘If we were disestablished it would be impossible. We

1900 CHURCH AND STATE 431

could no more slip into the American plan than we could
into the Roman plan. We could not get up a pandenomina-
tional service. Again, at present I am struck by the way in
which the most advanced nonconformists will fall in under me
for public purposes, simply because I am Bishop of London.

‘If we were disestablished this would cease, and co-opera-
tion would become less possible. A national system must
always be exposed to criticism, such as a voluntary system
escapes. We must take this into consideration.

‘ But a national system must be true to its original com-
pact with the State. The objection to the ritualists is not
so much for what they do, but for the grounds on which they
do it. These are opposed to the letter and spirit of the
Church.

‘ As you say, this fact must be dragged into light; and
then it will perish. They know this, and carefully abstain
from co-ordinating their views with the historical position of
the Church.

‘We are coming to a point when this is impossible.

‘They pleaded before the Archbishop about the meaning
of the Ornaments Rubric. When decision was given, they
said, “ Oh, you have overlooked the only thing of importance
—the binding power of Catholic custom.” It is obvious that
each man claims to decide “Catholic custom” for himself.
This claim has only to be made manifest to ensure its dis-
appearance,’

To the Rev. F. L. Boyd ‘London House: March 6, 1900.

‘You ask a very large question, which requires a great
deal of straightening out.

‘ The Jews were always a Church, and only ina secondary

sense a State. This is also true of the Russians at the

present day.

‘But the question is, what do you want to prove?

‘The Christian view comes from St. Paul: “The powers
that be are ordained of God.”. The middle ages held that
all power came from God, and that human regulations
designated the persons who were. to exercise it. It was their
duty to enforce God’s law. But the question came, Who
was to interpret that law? The Pope said “I am.” The
Emperor said, “I existed before you, and was ordained of
God before you were in being.” Then you get the question
“In what sense and within what limits are a body of men
chosen to perform divine service, better qualified to interpret
God’s law for the conduct of human affairs than those who

432 THE LAST YEAR 1900

are chosen to conduct those affairs on behalf of the com-
munity ?”

‘This last is the question which we mean by “ Church
and State”—at least we mean a portion of the community
claiming on some grounds to havea greater knowledge of
God’s will on one side, and the rest of the community on
the other.

‘One wanders in an endless fog without careful definitions
at each step.’

To the Rev. F. L. Boyd ‘London House: March 8, 1900.

‘Dear Mr. Boyd,—. . . My fog about Church and State
is as great as anyone else’s. I think that confusion arises
because we try to deal with the question in the abstract.
whereas it is always concrete. I mean that the question
“What relations ought to exist between Church and State?”
is insoluble apart from the question “ What is the organisa-
tion of the particular Church and the particular State you
are talking about really?” We may lay down a definition :
“The State is the community organised for the purpose of
securing the most commodious arrangement of common life.”
“The Church is the community organised for the purpose of
maintaining and upholding the divine laws on which all
human life depends.”

‘If those two were co-extensive and worked in the same
way, there would be no collision.

‘ But (1) the State is concerned with what is expedient:
the Church is enunciating principles which are frequently
threatened by expediency.

‘(2) The State for its purposes requires the widest state-
ment of opinion about expediency : the Church has a deposit
of principles which it is bound to preserve.

*(3) The State tends to become more democratic: the
Church is monarchical or oligarchic.

‘These necessities of the case create collisions. I might
go further and say :

‘(4) Expediency allows of the isolation of particular facts.
“Here is a grievance felt by some, why not remedy it?”
Principle says, “ No, your remedy would create dislocation of
a general attitude towards life which must be upheld.”

‘Hence frequently a man may be in doubt. On the
arguments before him, as a matter of expediency, he tends
in acertain way. He is doubtful how that action would
affect primary principles which he wishes to maintain. —

‘In your case of Uganda and India, the question is not

1900 NATIONAL LIFE 433

so much one of Church and State as of Government to the
races whom it governs. It is a relation of tutor to ward:
what is the wisest course to pursue ?

‘But this involves, if applied to England, the same con-
ception, which is not true. The State with us is the nation.
The Church, as expressing the Christian consciousness, is also
the nation: as claiming inalienable rights of its own it is not
the nation. [ tend to think that in every case you must
first determine the respective claims of Church and State on
the nation. Then things are clearer.’

To the Rev. Canon Barker ‘ London House: May Ig, Ig00.

‘My dear Canon Barker,— . . . About our conversation
the other day may I| put this point?

‘Our individual life is of no moment; we should always
be willing to sacrifice it: but our national life is quite different.
We may not do anything which imperils it. We can only
reach humanity through the nation to which we belong.
How to bring that nation always into line with humanity is
an object of philosophic aspiration which disappears when a
practical decision has to be made.’

* London House: May 23, 1900.

‘Let me supplement my abstract propositions by a few
which are equally abstract.

‘In the relation of the individual life to the national life
there are two processes: the formative and the operative.
We try to make our influence felt in the formation of the
ideas which rule national life—but when that national life
acts in any particular matter, its operation naturally omits
much that we are striving to impress upon it. Any action
‘is rude and unsatisfactory and expresses only what comes to
the top from time to time. The same considerations which
prevent me from recognising my personal life in the national
life, prevent me from recognising the life of humanity in the
national life. All these relations exist, and we must strive
for them all, but we must admit the inevitable limitations.
A piece of sugar will sweeten a glass of water—pour the
glass into a pond its influence is scarcely felt— drain the pond
into a river and the sugar is forgotten. That is no reason
why we should not each of us sweeten our glass. We are
only bewildered when we peep into other people’s glasses and
think of ponds and rivers.’

‘London House: May 26, 1900,

‘We really both agree: but I am seeking to find what
is the value, not of my moral sense in itself, but of the

VOL. IL. FF

434 THE LAST YEAR 1900

application of its principles to current questions. I am trying
to discover the process by which a moral evolution is being
carried on. As an integral part of that process one struggles
to do one’s best, and is perpetually disappointed. One only
regains hope by some criticism, from an outside point of
view, of the whole process of development. This attempt at
criticism is always chilling and apparently self-contradictory

another.’ |
e ‘Fulham Palace: May 20, 1900,

‘, . I do not like the condition of our national sentiment
at all. Weare ignorant and refuse to learn. We are arro-
gant and refuse to sympathise. We believe in our general
capacity : we rejoice in our national wealth. I think that in
a few years our wealth will diminish in comparison with that
of the United States: our commerce will be threatened by
German competition, founded on better education and recep-
tive intelligence. We must urge these considerations—and
must not settle down, to live in a fool’s paradise. I feel that
the next ten years will be a very critical period for England.
Much depends on the wisdom and zeal of such men as you.
That is enough to work for. We must get a higher standard
—more spiritual, for so only can it become nobler.’

The Bishop, like everyone else, was much occupied with
thoughts of the war. At the brief service of farewell to the
City of London Volunteers held in St. Paul’s Cathedral, he
spoke to the men, and his few words—he spoke but for a short
five minutes—went home to everyone. He told them the
truth burnt in on his own mind by the experience of the last
weeks: ‘A great need is a great opportunity and a period of
national trial is a test of national qualities ;’ and he bade the
men go in humble steadfastness, feeling that they bore
England’s honour with them.

In January, speaking to a gathering of principals and
lecturers in training colleges, he said :

‘It must be confessed that our intelligence in this country
would very distinctly bear improvement. Perhaps a year ago
we would have denied that fact. Now weare learning a little
humility, and it is to be hoped that that humility will not be
allowed to effervesce too soon. I hope the nation will see
that we must try to improve our intelligence from top to
bottom. We had settled down on our assured achievements,
and we had not been adeauately increasing them ; we had got
into idle ways ; we had regarded ourselves as spoilt children,

1900 THE LESSONS OF THE WAR 435

and had ventured to assume that the Englishman’s position
in the world was secure so long as the world lasted. We
have now got to reconsider some points in that estimate of
ourselves,’

On March 6, he preached at a service of intercession in
the Chapel Royal, and warned his hearers not to be like the
sick man who forgets the lessons of sickness so soon as health
returns. ‘Now that success seems within reach are we to
return to our old self-confidence, or have we grown wiser and
softer for the experience we have gone through?’ He said
that to denounce war was useless. ‘ Our own pride, arrogance
and self-seeking are its cause... the war that has befallen us
is in a sense everyone’s fault. . . . We are praying for peace,
but for peace after our own success. What a weight of responsi-
bility that involves!’...‘ The war has given us a quickened
sense of national life, of the mission and destiny to which
God has called us... . Our prayer must be that we may
have a new grasp of truth through our calamities, that a wider,
purer, nobler England, with broader sympathies and a more
resolute love of justice, may be the outcome of the crisis
through which we are passing.’ Speaking soon afterwards at
an East London Church Fund meeting, he said: ‘The war
has revealed to us feelings, powers, energies called forth at a
particular crisis in the nation’s history. . . . I long to see these
lessons regularly applied to other issues as important... .
We have to fight for the kingdom of God.’ At a missionary
‘meeting he asked, ‘What is the meaning of the British
Empire . . . why are we the foremost nation in carrying the
means of communication to other nations? It must surely
be for a purpose; we must know and face the responsibilities
of empire . . . we must spread the best and the most benefi-
cent ideas, the ideas of the Christian Church.’

He caused a book of public, private and family prayers
for use during the war to be drawn up. Some phrases used
raised a discussion about prayer for the dead.

To the Bishop of Winchester (Dr. Randall Davidson)
‘Fulham Palace : January 18, 1900.
‘Dear Bishop,—I do not like to seem vague about the
question of prayer for the dead. But the principle that we
recognised was that the Church of England held no theory

¥FF2

436 THE LAST YEAR 1900

about the intermediate state which could be interpreted to
admit of prayer as a mitigation of purgatory. Ir making
mention of the departed, it coupled them with the living, so
as to exclude any notion of a special benefit for them apart
from ourselves. It recognised the only passage in Scripture
which can be held to bear on that point: “The Lord give
him mercy in that day.”

‘The petition that we and they alike might be admitted to
final rest in paradise is recognised in substance in the Prayer
Book. It seemed to me possible to apply that to special cir-
cumstances.

Early in this year he wrote the report of a committee
which had been formed at his suggestion to consider the safe
custody, arrangement and accessibility of the documents
belonging to the various dioceses. He had sent the follow-
ing letter to all the bishops in England :

‘My tay Bishop, — ‘Fulham Palace: December 5, 1899.
‘Committee on Bishops’ Registries

‘Might I ask you for the information of the committee
to send me an answer to the following questions?

‘1. In what room or rooms are the records of your diocese
preserved ?

‘2. To whom do these premises belong ?

‘3. Are they well adapted for the purpose? Are they
large enough and suitable for reference? Who is responsible
for their maintenance ?

‘4. Are there any premises belonging to the Church which
might be more suitable ?’

The report on the replies received drawn up in his own
handwriting was presented to the Ecclesiastical Commissioners,
and in consultation with them a short Bill was framed to
make better provision for the custody of diocesan records,
The Bill passed the House of Lords in the spring, but went
no further; the diocesan records, many of them public docu-
ments of value and importance, are still in many cases housed
in such a way as to be neither safe nor readily accessible,’

The Bishop had also interested himself in the care of
other local records, and had a question asked in the House

‘ This question has lately (1904), at the motion of the Bishop of Peterborough,
again received the attention of the bishops in Convocation.

1900 LOCAL ARCHIVES 437

of Commons which led to the appointment, in November
1899, of a committee of which he was chairman to inquire
into the matter. He interested himself much in its work,
writing himself to foreign students for information.

To Count Balzani ‘Fulham Palace: July 10, 1900.

‘My dear Balzani,—I wrote to you some time ago about
a plan which I had started for constituting local archives in
England. I prevailed on the Government to give me a com-
mittee on the subject. Before framing our report, we wish
to have some information about the method pursued in other
countries. Can you tell us what is done in Italy? If not,
will you ask somebody who can? I send you for this pur-
pose a copy of the questions which we sent out to all county
and municipal authorities and societies in England. They
will serve to show you what we want to know. ... I seem
to have had more than ever to do of every sort and kind.
Local archives are hardly my business, but I raised the
question, and am bound to see it through. I have just
finished sitting on a royal commission to constitute a new
University of London, and I am now on another parliamentary
committee about Queen Anne’s Bounty Board. So my
public duties are considerable, apart from all my other
work.’

At the end of the year he sketched the outline of a report
of the committee’s work, but it did not prove possible to issue
the final report till October 1902. It was based on the
lines laid down by the Bishop, and speaks of the active
' interest which he took in the work, and of the privilege which
it had been to work with him. The report was studiously
moderate in the recommendations it made for the better
preservation of precious documents, in many cases ill cared
for and exposed to serious risk of destruction, but has not
led to any action being taken.

The following are extracts from the Bishop’s letters to
his nephews and nieces during the early months of the year :

‘ January 27.—Last night I was giving prizes to the
students of a polytechnic. That is rather nice in its way;
there were lots of girl students in various things. They
looked very eager and smart.’

‘ February 5.—I am very gloomy about the war, and Parlia-
ment is not cheerful, and no one seems to want to make

438 THE LAST YEAR 1900

things better or be wise about it. I suppose we must wait in|
patience.’

‘February 7—We have the Bishops of Lincoln and
Chichester staying, and had a large dinner party last night
and another to-night. This is severe after a hard day’s
work... . Ella and I go for a walk when we can. On
Sunday afternoon we wandered through the City, which
is impossible on week days owing to waggons which block
up the side streets ; but on Sundays all is quiet, only a few
boys are visible, and all the bustle has ceased. It is a very
funny contrast. On Saturday we went to a lovely concert.
You never stayed at London House. It is a good place to
get about from. I can get more chances of walking to my
business, wherever it may be.

‘I rather enjoy a dinner party, and talking to people.’

‘ February 15.—I have read “ Francesca and Paolo.” It
has some good lines, and is real poetry. Of course the point
of a tragedy is to represent the individual as the victim of an
overmastering fate. It is sad to contemplate two persons
being swept away to their doom. But the answer to the
pathetic suggestion of tragedy is, that if people let themselves
be swept away by their own feelings, they perish. Tragedy
may make you pity the victims as much as you like, but it
has to show that they bring about their own destiny. Those
who break the laws of life must suffer. It is no good to say
that the temptation is strong ; the penalty has to be paid.

‘This is only one side of the explanation of human
suffering. Suffering is enforcing law ; and those who will not
obey the laws of nature and of God are being silently removed.
It was necessary that Francesca and Paolo should be slain ;
there was no other end possible.

‘You raise another question about the keen enjoyment of
beauty in nature. You say that —— calls it “pagan.” She
is justified in doing so in a sense: but it is a question of
degree. It is like worldliness, which does not mean taking
care about business, and being prudent, &c., but means doing
those things by yourself, and for yourself, and leaving God
out. It only becomes wrong when you leave God out. So
with all pleasures and enjoyment. If it is only your own
sense of joy, with no uplifting thought behind it, then it is
pagan. But it seems to me that delight in nature is of all
things one that most appeals to one’s higher nature, and
suggests a power above ourselves. So it is with other things.
Many mistakes have been made by good people, who think
that goodness consists in going against human nature. St.

1900 LETTERS 439

Paul speaks with honour of the “body,” but warns against
“the flesh.” Many people confuse the body and the flesh,
and seem to think that all that concerns the body is bad.
This view has done a great deal of mischief and is quite
untrue.’

‘ February 22.—1 quite sympathise with you when other
people make idiotic remarks. It happens to me often. I
am quite cheery and hopeful. Then comes a tiresome letter :
it is not tiresome because it raises a difficult question—I1 am
always ready for that—but because it drags me to a lower
level of thought and feeling. It is the sudden drop into
another atmosphere, which is depressing. Hence it makes
so much difference who are the people one sees most of. It
is vain to make an atmosphere for oneself if other people are
always smoking bad tobacco.’

‘March 1.—Each year one grows older, Lent becomes

more real. Young people do not like to think about sin and
penitence. They do not feel the need so much, as life’s lights
and shadows are not so strongly marked and all looks more
equal.’
. ‘ March 20.—We have all been cheered up immensely
lately. The effect on London of the Queen’s visit was
amazing. She herself was amazed, and said,“ This is greater
than the Jubilee.”’

Standing with his chaplain in the crowd, to see the Queen
pass, on one of the days of her visit, the Bishop noticed a
child who was too small to be able to see; so he gave his
chaplain his hat to hold, and lifted the child to a safe seat
on his shoulder whence it could see everything.

‘ March 24.—-On Wednesday I went to a very interesting
.dinner at Mr. Chamberlain’s, to meet the Australian delegates,
who are here to advise the Government about Australian
Federation. This is a very large matter, of great importance,
and the dinner was really an historic occasion. I was the
only person not an Australian, except members of the Cabinet,
present. I was rather proud of being the one outsider. ...
I sat all yesterday as a judge, and had to decide a question
of libel which was referred to me. I succeeded in getting the
case done in the day, and gave a.long decision. It is rather
amusing doing some legal work sometimes.’

‘ March 31.—! am pining to get away, and shall flee as
soon as I can; Monday or Tuesday in Holy Week. It
seems wicked to run away at that time, but I must take all
the holiday I can get.’

440 THE LAST YEAR 1900

‘April 7—I am pining for a holiday. I have never
recovered since December, and it is time that I did improve
a bit. I do not want to sink to a crock, just yet.’

On April 10 we went with one of our sons to the Italian
Lakes, and wandered from one quiet place to another, taking
as usual many long walks. He was not well. For some
months he had had frequent attacks of internal pain. This
affected his spirits somewhat, though his energy and his
interest in everything he saw was as great as ever.

To Mrs. Aldridge ‘Menaggio: April 22, 1900.

‘Nothing has gone quickly in this war as yet; and I am
afraid of trying to act as prophet. We can only hope that
two months may see the end. It was natural for Jack to
feel glum at seeing other officers find their wives at Cape-
town. But those wives are a horrid nuisance there, and
cannot find themselves very comfortable. I cannot imagine
a more unpleasant place than Capetown at present, yet
people will go out. I heard of a lady going because she
said, “ London is so dull: everybody is away. I shall try
Capetown.” Such persons ought to be imprisoned and sent
back by the next boat. . . . We have a blazing sun and cool
air; hosts of spring flowers, fruit trees in blossom: every-
thing we ought to have. Italy is doing its best forus. I am
not very well, and I have not as yet succeeded in recovering.
It is a bore, but one has to put up with things as they come.
... Lam one of the worst of ramblers; and try to look as
shabby and inconspicuous as possible.’

On April 30 he was in London again.

‘May 11.—I am dreadfully busy. The month of May is
terrible. Yesterday I sat at the Ecclesiastical Commission
from 11 to 2, then in Convocation from 2 till 3.45, then
I spoke at a meeting at 4: had some tea and went to St.
Paul’s, where I preached to the soldiers’ guild at a mighty
service. I came back to supper at 9.30. I have the same
sort of day to-day, ending with a dinner at which I have to
make a speech. ... This is very dull, but I am writing in
Convocation and making speeches at intervals.’

He helped this year to get up a dinner to Mr. George
Smith to do honour to the public spirit and generosity
which had planned and carried out the publication of the
Dictionary of National Biography. He was also present at

6900 LETTERS 441

a luncheon given by the Lord Mayor to celebrate the com-
pletion of the dictionary.

‘ May 15.—At present dinners are a burden. I have one
every night this week except one. On Saturday I go to
Windsor to see the Queen. She sends for me oftener every
year, and I am always glad to see her.’

‘May 30.—I think we are all rather ashamed of the
absurd noise we made about Mafeking. I was at Windsor
on the Saturday and saw rather a nice form of rejoicing in
the evening. The volunteers of the town and all the boys
marched up to the Castle and made a torchlight procession
round the great court. Then they formed in line, saluted the
Queen with their torches, and sang: “ God save the Queen.”
It was very pretty as a sight. The Queen was very well and
very cheery. She forgot to ask about you, which was quite
wrong of her. I am very busy and am fleeing for a short
holiday at Whitsuntide to-morrow.’

After a visit in Somerset, we went to Dunster for a
few days’ absolute quiet. He enjoyed it much, though still
suffering pain. We took many long walks, and he amused
himself whilst walking by composing a poem, a marriage
song. It rested his mind by taking his thoughts away from
business, and he would pause at intervals and scribble down
fresh lines.

‘Fulham : June 27.

‘It is cold and grey. Summer is tardy. ... The hay is
cut and gets wet every day. It is gloomy, and we rarely
smile. I am looking forward to my holiday more than you
are to yours. ... I am always busy, and am hoping that
next week will be rather better. The other day I went to
a place where there were more smart and beautiful ladies
than I have ever seen. It was the opening of Hertford
House by the Prince of Wales.

‘ July 14.—London is hot: business is boring. There are
still all sorts of things going on. A garden party at
Buckingham Palace last Wednesday was rather nice... .
We have troops of people in the garden almost every after-
noon. A host of national schoolmasters are coming to-day
and clamour to be entertained. This is rather tedious.
I have talked to too many people lately.’

On June 14 he lectured for the last time in St. Paul’s,
? Given in Appendix III.

442 THE LAST YEAR 1900

taking Savonarola as his subject. He asserted that Savonarola
failed because he became a practical politician.

Speaking to the Lay Helpers’ Association at Sion College
on June 28, he once more expressed his hopes about the
Church of England :

‘I am not ashamed to call myself an enthusiastic and
fanatical Anglican. It is as an ecclesiastical system that I
value the Church of England. Its system seems to me
infinitely higher than any other, and it is for that very reason
that it appears so defective, because the higher its aims the
larger are the demands it makes upon its members, and con-
sequently its ideal can seldom or never be realised. This is
the very defect of Christianity itself, which always stands at
a disadvantage, so far as the consistency of the lives of its
adherents is concerned, when compared with other religions,
because of the almost intolerable burden of responsibility
which it throws upon the shoulders of those who profess it.

. . There are two principles of the highest possible order
which are always at war with one another, the principle of
freedom, which is necessary to the individual, and the prin-
ciple of order, which is necessary to the society of which the
individual is a member ; there is always a struggle between
the sense of freedom and the sense of discipline ; to construct
a system which represents the rightful claims beth of freedom
and order is extremely difficult. It is easy to construct a
system in which either prevails. In the Church of England
we have a system which equally respects the claims of order
and the claims of liberty ; this demands some intellectual
knowledge as well as moral training and discipline. ... Here
is the great opportunity of the Church of England fully to
realise its position, and for its members to act up to their
obligations . . . it offers infinitely the greatest possibilities
for the growth of human intelligence, of the moral sense of
men, of individual freedom within the order of a divinely
constituted society.... As a missionary agency it has
unique and unparalleled opportunities. . . . Let us consider
its opportunities with regard to national life.

‘There are three possible relations between Church and
State :

‘1. The State to be absolutely under the tutelage of the
Church—the conception embodied, if not realised, by the
Church of Rome. This is entirely antagonistic to all develop-
ment of human activity.

‘2. The State may exist before the Church, and therefore

— ee Te

ne ee

1900 CHURCH AND STATE 443

outside the Church, as in America. Here the objection is
that the various religious organisations in competition with
one another lose real hold on their principles in their desire
to win popular favour, and in the effort to be always up to
date, cease to be operative in directing the conscience of the
community.

‘3. The principle which belongs to us and to the Eastern
Church, according to which a church is national without
ceasing to be the maintainer of catholic truth, and without
sacrificing its principles to small national prejudices and
local considerations . . . in this way we stand in an organic
relation to the national life of the country . . . this involves
the obligation that we should understand national aspirations
and undertake to direct them in accordance with the eternal
principles of truth and righteousness. ... The religious
teacher never interferes in politics when he asserts the
primary principles which should underlie all politics, but he
does interfere in politics when he goes on to say what particu-
lar policy represents those principles. The cry is continually
heard, “Why does not the Church denounce this or that
policy in the name of eternal righteousness?” But the
teacher of religion, though bound to put forward what are the
principles of righteousness with reference to which everything
is to be judged, is not thereby constituted to be both judge
and jury for trying the particular issue before the country.
. . . On the whole, Christian principles have permeated our
land more than they have any other country. It is true that
our enemies charge us with being hypocrites, and perhaps we
are, perhaps we are not so good as we think ourselves, and use
Christian principles more to criticise others than ourselves—
our present opportunity is to carry these principles further.’

It was in accordance with these ideas that he joined with
the Bishop of Rochester in writing a letter about the elections
to the new municipal bodies, urging that men should not vote
on party lines, but should elect those likely to aim at pro-
moting the moral and social welfare of the people.

Though he called himself an enthusiastic, he was not
a narrow, Anglican, and this July he consented to speak
to the conference of the Christian Endeavour at the
Alexandra Palace. He was cordially welcomed on the
platform by a number of the most distinguished noncon-
formist ministers. He said afterwards of the gathering that
‘the thing seemed genuine, but unregulated.’

444 THE LAST YEAR 1900

To Mrs. T. H. Ward. ‘July 21,1900.

‘The Christian Endeavour is a society of young people,
attached to all denominations that like it, banded together
for practical Christian work. They are middle-class—well-
meaning no doubt, but with obvious defects. The fault of
nonconformity certainly nowadays, probably always, is that
its object is to organise forces, not to train character. The
keynote of the Endeavour is that if you profess zeal and energy
you may do what you like.

‘Oh, I am pining for the country. May you enjoy it.’

A few days later he opened the Pan-African conference,
a gathering of representatives of the native races of Africa, to
discuss the future of the African people. He told them how
important it was that they should state their aims and desires
clearly, so that the English people might know the definite
practical points in which they could help them. He con-
cluded by inviting the members of the conference to a
garden party at Fulham.

This month he laid the foundation stone of the new
building given by Mr. Passmore Edwards for the London
School of Economics, an institution in which, as its first
president, he had always taken the keenest interest since
it was started by his friends Mr. and Mrs. Sidney Webb.
Services, meetings, dinners, public functions of every kind
filled the days of that hot July.

To Mrs. Aldridge ‘Fulham Palace : July 26, 1900.

‘We are all going, as you saw us last year, to a house
near Keswick, where we spend our time in a sort of
boisterous picnic, which I greatly enjoy. Meanwhile you have
no notion how dilapidated everybody is. I hope to survive
a big dinner to-night: luckily the Prince of Wales is to be
there, and he will order speeches to be short.

‘ Portinscale: August 16, rgoo.

‘We came here a week ago; the weather began to amend,
for the last days it has been most beautiful. I] have been going
up hills with a vigour which is indecent in so old a man;
but I never can reconcile myself to my age and infirmities.
Certainly the country is lovely, more lovely than Wales.’

In many ways he thoroughly enjoyed this time at Portin-
scale, and walked with the greatest energy. But he suffered

Ee ee 5 ae ees

1900 ILLNESS 445

much pain, which constantly kept him awake for a great part
of the night. Still he could write the day before we left:
‘we have rambled over hills and have enjoyed ourselves, and
have found all things nice in this charming country.’

He wrote during these days an address which he had
undertaken to give in the autumn at Birmingham, to the
Midland Institute, of which he had been chosen president.
He took for his subject the need of a greater sense of the
value of knowledge.'

We hoped that further rest in Italy would make him well,
and he and I with our eldest son went to join Count Balzani
at Gressoney. In the hotel there we found an interesting
little circle of Italians, with whom he much enjoyed talking.

To his niece Ella ‘Gressoney : September 2, 1804.

‘No English ever come here, or anybody but Italians, so it
just suits me. It is quite the most beautiful scenery I know,
and it is well to be satisfied. ... Here we are amongst
Italian nobles. I have been talking Italian to them all night
till my brain reels,’

The last long walk he ever took was from Gressoney down
to the station at Pont St. Martin. Thence we went with
Count Balzani to stay a few days with Count Pinchia at
Ivrea ; but the Bishop was very suffering, and he was glad to
get away to Graglia without quite breaking down. There, on
the slopes of the Alps, looking over the great plain of Lom-
bardy, he hoped to stay quietly till he felt better. But his
suffering grew so severe that after a few days we decided to
return home. The doctors whom he saw on his arrival at
Fulham were reassuring, and hoped that complete rest and
careful dieting for three months would restore him to health.

To his niece Winifred ‘Fulham: September 24, 1g00.

‘I go on being an invalid, and am quite enjoying it in a
way. Iam so tired of having been uncomfortable all this
year, that I am really glad to have to set to work to mend
things. I do not think, however, that it will be done in a
hurry. So I take it calmly, and wait till a better time
comes.’

* Owing to his illness this was never delivered; but it was printed by the

Institute and given to its members, and also published in Zhe Contemporary and
in Thoughts on Education under the title of ‘A Plea for Knowledge,’

446 THE LAST YEAR 1900

He enjoyed the quiet days, and only grieved when his
strolls in the garden were stopped, and no walking, except
what was necessary about the house, was allowed. It wasa
lovely autumn, and we were able to drive out every day.

To his niece Ella ‘October 15, 1900.

‘ As regards myself I am leading a nice, lazy life, and am
rapidly improving. I never had such a good time in my life.
I do not feel equal to much physical exertion, so I am quite
content.

‘ November 14.—I am growing quite learned in the beauties
of Richmond Park, where I take a drive very often. It really
is most delightful; and now the hawthorn trees are red with
berries, and the oaks still keep their foliage, and the effect of
the low sun on them and the bracken is quite splendid. I had
no notion that one could get so many country effects so near
London.’

He loved Richmond Park, and said that to give a foreigner
the most intensely characteristic impression of England, he
would show him the view from Richmond Hill.

When people began to come back to work he resumed all
his usual correspondence, held interviews, and carried on
all the work of the diocese as usual; the only thing he could
not do was to make public appearances and speak or preach.
He often said that he did not think the diocese had ever been
so well administered as during his illness, which showed him
that the most important part of his work was what could be
done quietly at home, so that in future he meant to do much
less speaking and preaching.

He had this year reorganised the rural deaneries so that
their boundaries might be coterminous with the new munici-
palities ; and he also arranged that in each municipality a
special municipal church should be chosen. This was all
definitely settled this autumn. In spite of his illness he
drove on November I to vote at the first municipal elections.

In November he issued the following letter, the last he
addressed to his clergy :

‘Rev. and dear brother,—I desire to commend to your
consideration the importance of bringing before your people
the duty of supporting the foreign mission work of the Church.

‘Many things help to emphasise this work at the present

1900 THE ROUND TABLE CONFERENCE 449

time. The centenary of C. M. S. kept last year, the bicen-
tenary of S. P. G. now being observed, provide materials for
a retrospect which shows an abundant blessing on efforts all
too small. Recent events have brought home to us a new
sense of the vastness of our national responsibilities. We
have undertaken fresh obligations towards the native races of
South Africa. The heroism of native converts in China has
won universal admiration. On all sides the claim of mis-
sionary work to the serious attention of all English people is
becoming apparent.

‘I would urge you to make a special effort for the better
observance of the approaching St. Andrew’s-tide as a time of
humiliation and intercession in every parish of the diocese.

‘I am, your faithful servant and brother,
‘M. LONDON :’

Already whilst at Portinscale he had made preparations
for the meeting of the round table conference, The follow-
ing letters will show what he hoped from it:

To Sir John Kennaway, M.P. ‘Fulham Palace: July 20, 1900.

‘Dear Sir John Kennaway,—I was requested by a resolu-
tion of the London Diocesan Conference in May last to
summon a round table conference of members of the
Church of England to confer on matters which are at present
agitating the Church. I would invite you to take part in such
a conference.

‘I propose that it should be held here on Ort. 11, 12, 13
next. The subject which I would refer to it for discussion is
“ The discipline of the Holy Communion and its legitimate
expression in ritual.” I sincerely hope you may be able to
attend.’

Sir John Kennaway asked for more information before

giving a decided answer.
‘ The Snabs, Carlisle : August 2, 1900.

‘My dear Sir John Kennaway,—I have been so busy that
I have not had time to answer your letter before : but mean-
while things have been clearing themselves rather about the
proposed conference by the answers which I have received.

‘My object is nothing more than to clear up the points in
dispute—to determine what they are—to see how much agree-
ment there is and where difference begins, and on what it is
founded. Controversy always seems to me like men fighting
in the dark, very few of their blows hit, each supposes the

448 ‘ THE LAST YEAR 1900

other to be somewhere where he is not. The first step is to
know where you are and where your opponent is.

‘The utmost that I contemplated was a report on these
lines: .

‘ All were agreed (1), (2), (3).

‘Then some thought (1), (2), (3).

‘ Their reasons were &c.

‘I did not think it well to prescribe any limitations in the
first instance. There can be no doubt that Scripture is the
supreme authority; everything else can only be quoted as
interpreting Scripture : the weight assigned to such interpre-
tation is just one of the points which I should expect to be
noted. I think that a statement of this kind would do much
good, and would compromise nobody. I very much want to
have one or two laymen to represent common sense. .. .

‘The only refusals are Preb. Webb Peploe and Mr. Mellor.
Professor Ryle is engaged in College business at the time. I
have not heard yet from Canon Newbolt and Mr. Birkbeck.

‘I very much hope that you may be able tocome. I really
think that it would be interesting, and would not be time
wasted.’

Sir John Kennaway could not see his way to attend, and
Lord Stamford and Mr. P. V. Smith were invited. The
Bishop wrote, ‘I want to secure the representation not only
of definite parties, but of all shades of thought, so far as
possible. Professor Moule recommended Rev. N. Dimock
as the theological expert on the Evangelical side.

He wrote further to those who had accepted his invita-

tion.
‘ August 28, 1900.

‘I am now able to give you more definite information
about the arrangements which I have been able to make.

‘The following have been good enough to accept my
invitation: Rev. Dr. Barlow, Rev. H. E. J. Bevan, Rev. Dr.
Bigg, Mr. W. J. Birkbeck, Rev. N. Dimock, Rev. Canon Gore,
Viscount Halifax, Rev. Professor Moule, Rev. Canon Newbolt,
Rev. Dr. Robertson, Rev. Canon Robinson, Rev. Professor
Sanday, Mr. P. V. Smith, Earl of Stamford, Rev. Dr. Wace.

‘I propose that all the members of the conference should
stay here during the time of meeting. I think that oppor-
tunity for private talk between the sittings would be of great
value. I hope that all will come in time for dinner at 8 P.M.
on Wednesday, October 10. Some agreement about pro-
cedure and sittings might be made that night.

1900 THE ROUND TABLE CONFERENCE 449

‘I would explain that it is not my wish to interfere in the
proceedings of the conference, which will make its own
regulations.

‘I think, however, that its proceedings would be greatly
helped if each member were to send me, not later than
October 5, a statement of his belief on the subject of the
Divine gift in Holy Communion. The statement should be
positive, not negative—what he holds, not what he wishes
to exclude.

‘ The proceedings of the conference will terminate early on
the afternoon of the 13th.

‘There will be acelebration of the Holy Communion each
morning during the sessions.

‘Wewill all prepare ourselves meanwhile by praying that
God’s Holy Spirit may enable us to speak the truth in love.’

Some further light on his hopes as to the results of the
round table conference is thrown by a letter to Sir William
Harcourt. In August he had written privately to Sir William
Harcourt about some of his letters to the ‘ Times,’ pointing out
how a prosecution would hinder rather than promote the
restoration of order in the Church. In reply to Sir William’s
answer to this letter, he wrote again as follows from Graglia.

‘Graglia: September 13, 1900.

‘Dear Sir William Harcourt,—Your kind letter, for which
I am very grateful, followed me abroad, and I feel bound to
thank you for it, as I had no intention when I wrote to you
to involve you in a private controversy. It is of course quite
right that the bishops should be used as whipping posts. It
is interesting to notice how the charges against them have
changed. A short time ago it was “the proud prelate, who
lorded it over the clergy and was kept in his place by the
courageous laity.” Now it is “the timid and time-serving
prelate, equally afraid of the clergy and the laity.” I cannot
but think that there is a great deal of unwritten ecclesiastical
history in this violent change of appearances. I will not
presume to forecast it.

‘Your position is incontrovertible: your arguments are
quite just. There is no reason why your method should not
be tried, except that no one wishes to try it, but only to
abuse the bishops for not trying it. I can only express my
own opinion, that there is no way of combating error except
by setting forth truth. Of course it is annoying that any
system constructed for teaching opinions should deviate a

VOL, II. GG

MS, THE LAST YEAR | 1900

hair’s breadth from its original standard. But when I reflect
on the nature of the human mind, I am not surprised, though
I may be annoyed. It is quite necessary that men should
obey the law, that they should be subject to authority. If
men who say that they are trying to do good, and claim to
act through conscientious motives, refuse to do these things,
such refusal has wrought great results in the world’s history.
It has never been overcome by force, or by the application of
law. There has never yet been a case in history of an
attempt to overcome it by reason, by investigation, by discus-
sion, by definition, by gradual isolation of eccentricity from
grains of partial truth. Yet I am foolish enough to believe
that this is the only possible method. I should have thought
that at least it was innocuous. The talk of a few pedants in
a corner could not affect the mighty stream of indignation
which swells the English breast, and will work its will through
that means which is called polztzcal. You abuse me for what
I do as well as for what I do not do. Your way is the
popular way ; why not leave mine to do what it may?

‘You will say, “ No appearance of truce with law-breakers.”
But do not we want to find why seemingly good men break |
the law? The plea of law-breaking was used against
Wyclif, Huss, Luther, everybody whom we now call re-
formers. Of course there is no parallel between them and
Lord Halifax. Yet I cannot apply to Lord Halifax a kind
of treatment which, mutatis mutandis, | condemn in Leo X.,
in Archbishop Courtenay, in the Council of Constance.
They all of them refused to discuss the thing in itself; they
all upheld the law ; they all secured the rapid downfall of the
law, and of their method of upholding it.

‘IT know that you will regard all this as hopeless from a
practical point of view. Nobody knows this better than I do
We are both of us idealists. I rank you with Lord Halifax.
He is pursuing a revival of old methods of religious thought ;
you are for reviving the old means of persecuting him. I am
so far modern that I do not believe in the vitality of his
ideas, or in your mode of suppressing him. I want to drag
him into the light and slay him in the open. My interest is
more with the Church of the twentieth century than with
that even of the sixteenth. ‘ Yours very sincerely,

‘M. LONDON:

‘My opinions were not made in reference to present events.
I am venturing to send you some lectures which I gave at
Cambridge six yearsago. [The Hulsean lectures on ‘ Persecu-
tion and Toleration.’]’

1900 THE ROUND TABLE CONFERENCE 451

The Bishop’s illness in no way interfered with the meeting
of the round table conference. He had never intended to be
present at its sessions, but only to be in the house to be
referred to if necessary. He was always ready for consulta-
tion when wanted, and his presence on his sofa in the draw-
ing-room gave life to the social side of the gathering.

From the outset he had been determined not to givea line
himself to the members of the conference. When asked by
Canon Robinson in August what they were to do, he answered :
‘That is for you to decide; you will find it will all come out
when you get together. But, as one of them writes: ‘He
showed his wisdom in not letting us go off on to legal decisions,
courts or their judgments. It was real beliefs and the forms
of their expression that he wanted us to work at.... He
was quite content that we should not formulate new “covering
expressions,” nor attempt practical compromises. He was
delighted that the posztzve statements on each side came so
near each other—that it was so often difficult to explain the
exact point of divergence. This as an educational result is
probably what he had chiefly looked for” At the end of the
conference he said to the members: ‘I know you disagree,
and I think that you ought to disagree.’

The result of the conference quite satisfied him; he had
never expected that it would lead to any definite resolutions,
only to a better understanding of different points of view.
In the preface to the published report he said :

‘My desire was to bring together various phases of
theological opinion as represented by theologians whose
training enabled them to talk a common language. The
object of the conference was that it should record opinions,
not that it should attempt to elaborate new formule. The
form of the conference was that it was a committee ap-
pointed to report to me. It presented its report by sub-
mitting a copy of its minutes. . . . I took no personal part
in the proceedings, for I felt that any appearance of official
intervention would have destroyed. their usefulness. ... It
would be out of place for me to make any comment upon
the contents of the following pages. They will be most use-
ful to the reader who is his own commentator,’

The tone and temper of the round table conference
seemed to justify the hope that a more peaceful spirit might
GG2

452 THE LAST YEAR 1900

prevail, but at that very time a new effort was made to return
to the old method of prosecution. At the end of September
the Bishop was informed that a certain Colonel Porcelli,
giving as his address 1 Whitehall Gardens, the National Club,
not a private residence, intended to proceed under the Clergy
Discipline Act of 1840 against five London clergy. The
Bishop at once consulted the Archbishop :

‘ October 4, 1900.—My intention is to communicate with
the clergy accused, and to give full weight to any pleas or
undertakings which they may put before me: but I anticipate
that in some cases, and under some of the heads, I shall find
it necessary to allow proceedings.’

At first all that he hoped was to be able to limit the
proceedings to two cases which included all the points com-
plained of. Colonel Porcelli consented to proceed only against
two of those named, both men who had refused to obey the
Bishop’s instructions with regard to the use of incense. But
after further consideration the Bishop wrote to his legal
secretary, Mr. Harry Lee:

October 19, 1900.

‘My dear Mr. Lee,—Would you send me back the papers
relating to the prosecution? I see on looking up the Act
that I have to be responsible for letting the cases go on. 1
shall therefore have to communicate with those concerned
before I give my assent.’

He felt deeply the importance of the decision that he had
to make. Both his reason and his sentiment were absolutely
opposed to prosecution. The history of the past taught him
how it had invariably failed in its object; peace could not
be reached in that way. And with his almost passionate
belief in liberty, with his hatred even of the appearance of
intolerance, such a prosecution seemed like a contradiction of
the very ideas which all his life long he had striven to up-
hold. Often during those weeks he would suddenly exclaim :
‘ That I of all men should be forced to becomea persecutor !’
And yet there was the constant question: Could he avoid
it in such a way as not to hurt the public conscience by an
apparently unjustifiable use of his power of veto. This was
the problem ; it needed time and observation of men’s minds

1900 THE PROPOSED PROSECUTION 453

to solve it. He did not vacillate, he waited and observed.
The following are some of his letters on the subject :

To Lord Edward Churchill + Futham Palace : November 10, 1900.

‘My dear Lord Edward Churchill,—The ordinary phrase,
“the Bishop’s Veto,” has always seemed to me entirely mis-
leading.

‘A bishop receives a formal complaint, and has a legal
discretion about giving leave to take legal proceedings.

‘ This discretion applies

‘(1) To frivolous and vexatious proceedings.

‘(2) To cases in which those who are complained against
give satisfactory assurances for the future.

‘As regards any given charge the bishop can only judge
on these two points.

‘My own opinion on the matter of prosecutions is very
simple. It is simply founded on the experience of the whole
history of England. English sentiment has always resented
any attempt to suppress opinions, however objectionable, by
coercive measures. There is only one remark in your letter
which I would ask you to reconsider.

‘You regard disestablishment as “a remedy for our pre-
sent troubles.” I wish I could share this confidence.

‘Any synodical body would be less liberal than our pre-
sent system, and the ejection of offenders against rules would
be infinitely easier. If we were disestablished at present, we
could not possibly hold together.’

To the Bishop of Winchester (Dr Randall Davidson)
‘Fulham Palace: November 10, 1900.

‘My dear Bishop,—I feel that I have rather a serious
responsibility resting on my sole shoulders about allowing
prosecution. I had five men presented: I have barred all
but two, and the solicitor agreed to this. Now I am com-
municating with the two, who are identical in position, and
are two of the five who refused to make any colourable sub-
mission about incense.

‘Of course since this has been talked about [I have re-
ceived many letters protesting against a renewal of prosecu-
tions. I see froma letter in the “ Times” that the Low Church
party deplore it, and that a small body only are acting. But
this does not affect the matter as far as my discretion is
concerned. My “discretion” is purely legal. ... A bishop
cannot object to investigation by process of law.

‘It is not to the point that he should say: “I do not

454 THE LAST YEAR 1900

think it expedient at the present time that any strictly legal
decision should be given about anything.” This is a claim
on his part to a power which seems to me to be tyrannical,
never contemplated by the law and quite untenable. Of
course everybody disapproves of a prosecution the moment
it is started. It means a certain loss to the Protestant party
of their present popularity. It means that incense and
reservation will in five years’ time be in the same class as
vestments.

But as everybody has been mean enough to abuse the
bishops for using their veto, and for not “putting down”
opinions which they know quite well that no Englishman
will either stand being “put down” or when it comes to the
point will allow another to “put down,” I think they must
take the consequences.’

To Canon Armitage Robinson (now Dean of Westminster)
(in answer to a letter asking whether he should wvite to the ‘Times’ urging
reasons-against the proposed prosecution)
November 12, 1900.

‘My dear Robinson,—By all means send your letter to
the “ Times.” The more the question is discussed the better.
Of course the only question before me is that of my consti-
tutional duty fairly interpreted. But it may be proved that
people would welcome any way out of a disagreeable and
futile position.’

He had friendly discussions with the two clergy concerned,
but failed to persuade them to conform to his regulations.
After one of the interviews he wrote to the Bishop of Win-
chester :

* November 16, 1900.

‘The position was “I would meet you if I could: but I
am not going to be bullied by a handful of Prots.” ... In
fact, “Catholic principles” are now in the background, and
we are going to have British pluck instead. He will not ap-
pear before the Arches Court, and will pay no attention to
its sentence. Doubtless he will be ejected by the police ulti-
mately amidst universal sympathy, and no one will be able to
work his parish. Two parishes in the slums of East London
will be devastated, and then the Protestant fervour will
disappear for our lifetime. Incense will come back, and
reservation for the sick will become general.

‘This will be the result. I will not say whether it will be
good or bad. But I do not see how I can prevent it.’

1900 THE PROPOSED PROSECUTION 455

‘Fulham Palace: November 19, Igoo.

‘My dear Bishop,—Thank you very much. I am sorry
to trouble you; but it is well to have some one to whom one
can put things and see one’s way. . . . Perhaps it is a mis-
fortune that I should be interested in constitutional law.
For a veto exercised on grounds of discretion seems to me a
power unknown in England, and to partake of the nature of
tyranny. Having this view, I could only act by saying “ The
thing that I do is indefensible, but to prevent a greater mess
I do it.” But then I have always been averse from coups
@ état, and J don’t believe in “ Saviours of Society.”’

‘ Fulham Palace : November 22, 1900.

‘Dear Bishop,—It is of course the irony of fate that I
should of all-men seem to be willing to allow prosecutions ;
but that is of no importance.

‘If I allow proceedings, it will be only in one case, and
only on the two points of incense and reservation. ... My
position may not be logical, but it is this. If one prosecution
be undertaken as a test case, I do not see that the nature of
the prosecutor matters. If, after this, proceedings were taken
against others, I should require a parishioner.’

‘ November 25, Igoo.

‘The more I think about prosecution the more I dislike
this particular prosecutor, and I think it might be right to bar
him,’

* November 28, 1900.

‘I am prepared to allow prosecution by a qualified and
interested person. I cannot allow a common informer.’

He received many letters from men of very different
church opinions asking him not to prosecute. His two arch-
deacons addressed a letter to him, which was published,
purporting to express more or less the views of the clergy of
the diocese, and when he finally decided how to act, it was to
them he expressed his decision. He was convinced that a
prosecution would stir up again the bitterness which had been
slowly diminishing. Discussion in the law courts would not
lead men to be tolerant of one another’s opinions. It was
not legal decisions, not compromise, but comprehension within
the Church, which he desired ; this, time and patience alone
could bring about. So he struggled to find a reason for using
his veto which would not offend the public sense of justice.

456 THE LAST YEAR igoo

I well remember the relieved tone with which he said
when I came into his room one morning, as he was lying in
hed, attending to his correspondence : ‘I have made up my
mind not to allow the prosecution.’

He announced his decision in a letter to the Archdeacons
as follows :

‘Fulham Palace: November 28, 1900.

‘My dear Archdeacons,—I have to thank you for the
letter which you were good enough to address to me, in
which you expressed, on behalf of the clergy of the diocese,
what I am sure you believed to be their almost unanimous
desire—that there should not be at the present time any legal
proceedings on the ground of ritual.

‘Though I share this desire on general grounds, yet I
could not allow any personal gpinion of my own to affect me
in the discharge of an official duty. I have therefore been
carefully considering the nature of the legal discretion con-
ferred upon me when a complaint is preferred.

‘Now the facts before me are these. Identical com-
plaints against five clergymen have been submitted to me by
one person whose address is a London club, and who gives
no evidence of his connexion with any of the parishes about
which he complains.

‘ After much reflection I have come to the conclusion that
if I were to recognise such a complaint, I should be deviating
in a way which I could not justify from the intention of the
Legislature of 1874. The Act that was then passed for the
special purpose of dealing with matters concerning the con-
duct of divine service,emphatically provided that complainants
must be parishioners.

‘On this ground I have found myself unable to allow the
present complaint to proceed. I would ask you to explain
to the clergy as you may have occasion, the reasons which
have weighed with me.’

The same week which saw the conclusion of this matter
saw also the settlement of another troublesome problem.
The Bishop had often had to settle disputes in connexion
with Continental chaplaincies. But none caused him so much
trouble as the chaplaincy at Biarritz. Into the details of the
dispute it is not necessary to enter. For various reasons
the existing chaplain had not met with the approval of the
English residents at Biarritz. _Noserious charge was preferred

1900 THE BIARRITZ CHAPLAINCY 457

against him, but the majority of the congregation insisted
on his removal, because they did not like him.

The question is only of interest here because of the light it
throws on the Bishop’s opinion of the position of Continental
chaplains. This is shown in his letters to his assistant bishop,

Dr, Wilkinson.
* May 4, 1900.
‘I have had endless trouble about Biarritz. The aggrieved
party applied for another chaplain. I looked into this point,
and I concluded that if any body of Englishmen resident
abroad provided a place for worship, and a sufficient stipend
for a chaplain, and applied for my licence for him, I could
not refuse that recognition. Wishing to avert a schism, I
asked them to hold their hands for this season. But if time
does not bring its healing power, they will renew their
- application, and there will be a second chaplaincy at Biarritz
for a time.’
‘ Fulham Palace : November g, Igoo.

‘I should greatly dislike to license another chaplain at
Biarritz. But the precedent would not spread, as there are
not many places in which malcontents can afford to find a
stipend and a building. I think nothing of opinions, how-
ever strong, which people are not prepared to pay for. It is
astonishing how they generally fade away before this test.

‘But the Continent is not like England. In England there
is a territorial division, and parishes have rights. On the
Continent there live scattered bodies of English people to
whom the Bishop of London, in matters ecclesiastical, is
protector. 1 do not have jurisdiction over them as over
English parishes. I am really more like a visitor. I cannot
impose a chaplain. They could have a chaplain without my
permission 2f they could get him. In fact, English clergymen
abroad are often asked by malcontents to hold a service for
them. They answer that without my permission they could
not do so. The sanction for this is that, if they did so,
I could, and would, prevent them from getting work in
England.

‘But the Biarritz people have raised a question which
illustrates the position. They wrote to me that it was hard
that I should have this trouble; it ought to fall on the
C.C.C.S. Accordingly they have asked the Society to give
Mr. notice to quit, as owners of the freehold property
which he occupies. They have sent in French legal opinions
to the effect that he would have to go at a fortnight’s notice.

458 THE LAST YEAR 1900

I have always held that this is the legal position of a chaplain
abroad. He is only protected from this by my interposition.
I should refuse to license another chaplain for a society which
used its legal right in thisway. But then, if a patron reports
to me that his property is being spoiled by an unsuitable and
incapable man, I cannot uphold him in the face of this.’

The Bishop had had much consultation with some of the
leading residents of Biarritz in the summer, and had finally
promised to hold a court early in October, at which they and
the chaplain could state their respective cases. When the
chaplain said that he could not get his case ready in October,
the hearing was put off to November 2, and again, at the
chaplain’s wish, till November 26.

The great hall at Fulham was arranged for the court;
both sides were represented by counsel, and the secretary of
the Colonial and Continental Church Society was also present.
When the Bishop entered he was asked by the counsel on both
sides whether he would have a private interview with them and
their clients to see whether it might not be possible to arrive
at some agreement. He said that it would be very much
more desirable, and retired to his study with his own legal
advisers, where he was soon joined by the others. After a
discussion of an hour and a half, it was agreed that the
chaplain should resign in the following June on condition of
receiving the annual payment of 150/. for five years, and that
his resignation was not to prejudice his transfer to another
chaplaincy. The Bishop approved of the terms, adding that
on their being carried out all matters in dispute were to be
considered as closed, and not to be revived.

When they returned to the court, the terms of the agree-
ment were announced, and the Bishop said that the course
which had been pursued was especially creditable to the
chaplain, and added :

‘There have been personal matters which have grown to
apparently an impossibility of there being that cordial co-
operation between, at all events, some members of the con-
gregation and the clergyman, which is necessary in all cases
for the proper efficiency of a congregation, particularly when
it is a resident congregation abroad. I am very sensible of the
motives which have led Mr. to take the course which he
has now taken. It has relieved me from a responsibility

1900 ILLNESS 459

which I should regret to have had to exercise personally. It
is very much better that cases of this kind should be decided
by mutual agreement, and I must express my satisfaction
that an agreement has been reached in the present case.’

It was a great relief to the Bishop to have been able to
settle this matter without a lengthy inquiry, which could only
have served to stir up more bitterness, and the residents in
Biarritz were extremely grateful to him for the trouble he
had taken! All alike were struck with his clearness of mind
and capacity for transacting important business, which his
illness had not in the least diminished.

Other business of many different kinds was brought
before him, and entered into with all his usual sympathy and
keenness. He was always ready for a talk with any friend
who came to see him, and as usual in general society took
the lead in conversation. On the whole, he much enjoyed
these quiet months. There were times of depression, when it
did not seem to him that he was getting on as quickly as he
should, and once or twice he discussed with me whether he
ought not to resign. On one occasion when we were driving,
he asked me where I should like to live if he had to resign,
and we both agreed that we should like a cottage in the Lake
district. When I added that it would depend a little upon
whether we should be in a position to afford to go about, as it
would not be pleasant to be cut off from all our friends, he
answered, ‘I should not mind how quiet we were as long as
Ihad my books. I should not feel the need of seeing people.

Some extracts from his letters will show how his mind was
‘occupied :

To his niece Winifred (who was staying at Dresden)
* October 22.

‘It is more than thirty years since I was in Dresden, I
spent a month there in 1867 and a fortnight in 1869. That
was before the war, when Germany was a different sort of
place. Life was simple and cheerful. . . . There is no doubt
that the San Sisto is the finest easel picture that ever was
painted. Buta comparison of that and of the Holbein is very
useful. There are two elements in art, the ideal and the real.

* Unfortunately after his death an attempt was made to go back on the terms
of the agreement, but the authorities refused to allow the matter to be re-opened.

460 THE LAST YEAR 1g00

The San Sisto is supreme in the ideal region ; but it is well to
feel the charms of the real. Holbein’s Madonna is a real
woman, and her dress is delightful, also her hair. Look at
that black velvet and the red girdle and the Turkey carpet in
front. They do not appeal to the imagination in the same
way, but they are splendid.’

To Miss Mary Bell (now Mrs. Charles Trevelyan)

‘Fulham Palace: October 28, 1g00.

‘My dear Molly,—I am glad to hear that you are comfort-
ably settled. . . . I never was at Weimar in my life, which is
sad, as I cannot make a picture of you and Elsa in my mind.
. .. Lenvy you all your opportunities of learning German
and painting and music and expanding your mind ferociously.
My life is dreadfully monotonous. I get up at 12, and go
to bed at 10, and go for a drive every afternoon, and otherwise
eat a number of meals, and lie down as muchas possible. It
is not exciting, but it is so new to me that I quite enjoy it.
I never before have had the opportunity of studying a garden
in autumn; and this has been a splendid autumn for the
purpose. The roses still blow and the frost has not slain any
flowers. I saw some primroses to-day, and a white lily
suddenly appeared a few days ago. It is quite odd to see
them. I greatly enjoy also my chance of studying the
beauties of Richmond Park. They are very great, in fact
nothing could be lovelier or more typically English. I am
writing this lying down: so excuse the badness of the
writing.’

To his nephew Basil * November 8, 1900.

‘My dear Basil,—I am stillas before; at present Iam not
setting well so quickly as I was, and I am rather gloomy to-
day. However it is no good being in a hurry, and one must
make the best of it.

‘What you say about the dangers ahead to England seems
to me sadly true. We began our political and industrial life
before other people ; we went ahead very fast: we became
quite content with ourselves, we have left off trying to improve
things, and we go on living in a fool’s paradise. Take this
war, for instance. What impresses me is that all the men who
ought to have advised the Government, men who were out
there and knew the Boers, advised them all wrong. They
thought, and said, that 30,000 troops would finish the war in
two months. Now the worst thing for any nation is not to
judge right. If Englishmen are growing so conceited that

1900 LETTERS 461

they cannot estimate properly, we are in abad way. You ask
if this can be helped. Yes, it can be helped by the younger
generation taking a more serious interest in what they do.
You and such as you must set us right, by working harder,
by knowing more, by thinking more wisely. Now-a-days the
only thing we can do is to grow excited. Really the return of
the C.I.V.’s was the most idiotic performance, and I wonder
how often we are going to repeat it. Well, you and I have
had a good grumble, let us make a compact together to try
and mend things, only you must not be turned for construe.’

To Miss Mary Bell ‘ November 11, 1900.

‘My dear Molly,—It is very nice of you to like writing to
me. I rejoice in getting your letters. My life is not eventful
in outward things: I go on living quietly at Fulham and
doing all my business here. I was progressing beautifully
till last Sunday. I have now gone back rather, and am stuck
for a time, which makes me rather cross. Meanwhile I have
all sorts of important business on hand, about which you
would, luckily for yourself, feel no interest. Of course every-
body in Germany goes to plays, operas and concerts. I
wonder which you like better the “ Gétterd4mmerung’” or the
“ Barbiere.” There is a great tendency in people who like
Wagner to like nothing else. This seems to me a great mis-
take. We ought not to have only one kind of good thing
Surely the best of all kinds is good. In art, above all things,
people ought not to be narrow : but dear me, how we all love
to be as narrow-minded as possible, and feel much more
interest in reviling what we don’t like than in appreciating
what we do. The sun is shining on a nice wintry day. I
am not allowed to walk at present and am looking at the
garden with longing.

‘If I told you “not to grow wise,” I did not mean you to
stop learning. That we can none of us ever afford to do.
But there is a difference between wisdom and knowledge.
Knowledge can be gained about anything; but wisdom is
concerned with one’s own life and character and judgment of
the world. Many people think that if they know more they
are wiser. But it is possible to be a learned fool. The French
have a proverb that no folly is-equal to ‘la bétise d’un bel
esprit’ I suppose that means that one’s wisdom can only
grow with one’s experience, and that nothing is more futile
than to form strong opinions about things which do not
really interest us. If we only talked about things which we
understood, and had a reason for talking about, we should all

462 THE LAST YEAR 1g00

be quite wise. But don’t you think that many girls at present
talk about things because other people do, or because they
think it the right sort of thing, not because they really know
or care?’

To the Lady Mary Glyn ‘Fulham Palace: November 13, 1900.

‘My dear Lady Mary,—Thank you for your kind letter.
I am, and have been all along, quite well in all points save
that I am condemned to lie down. It is this which prevents
me from going about : except for this enforced repose I am
quite happy ; and I feel that the see of London has not been
so well administered for a long time. I am learning how
much more good one does by staying at home than by
running about—by holding one’s tongue than by making
speeches.’
To a young friend ’ * November 18, 1900.

‘You are discovering that it is hard to see one’s friends
change. It is a real trial One has to grapple with the
feeling of jealousy ; and the sooner one faces it the better.
There is only one way of facing it—to be grateful for what
one has received, and to feel that the power of loving is inde-
pendent of any immediate return. Let me put it in this way.
To love anybody does me good. It means that I see them
as beautiful beings. That is my reward. Why should |
demand that they also should see me as a beautiful being?
It might be nice if they did, but it is not the material point.’

One of his doctors recalls how when he was asked whether
illness had made him irritable, he answered : ‘ No, I think my
behaviour has been particularly good lately. I have felt that
I should be justified in being irritable, and this has made me
put an extra restraint upon myself.’ Another time when all
food was distasteful to him, he said: ‘I feel I could hate a
man who could eat a beefsteak. Now I understand the
wrath of a total abstainer when he sees a man drinking a
glass of beer. He thinks it is consuming zeal, but it is
largely produced by hatred of the man who can drink what
he may not drink himself.’

To the Bishop of Winchester ‘ November 28, 1900.

‘I hope to make a new start in recovery on Saturday. I
had a consultation yesterday with a surgeon. It is tolerably
clear that there is some obstruction requiring an operation.

:
;
:
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1900 ILLNESS 463

Don’t say anything about it, as an operation suggests a can-
cerous tumour, which is not suspected. The surgeon hopes to
restore me in a fortnight, if his diagnosis is right. He promises
to make me as good as new. I am glad to get to a definite
point; for I have stuck for the last month, and saw no pro:
spect of advance on these lines,’

The Bishop was suffering from internal ulceration. The
doctors had hoped to effect a cure by rest and dieting, and at
first he had made rapid progress, but after the beginning of
November he did not improve. At last it was determined
that an operation was necessary. This was carried out
successfully on December I. But it was followed by serious
hemorrhage, and for some days there was great anxiety.
He soon, however, began to gain strength, and for a time
all went well. Then he suddenly went back again, and a
second operation proved necessary. This took place on
December 24, with most hopeful results. His recovery went
on steadily, and he was very bright and cheerful; but on
learning that he could not hope to be fit for full work till
Easter, he decided to proceed at once with the arrangements
for the appointment of a new Suffragan. In the preceding
summer he had presented Dr. Ridgeway with the City living
of St. Botolph’s on the understanding, that when Bishop
Barry should be obliged to retire from being assistant bishop,
he should be consecrated as an additional suffragan. It now
seemed best to secure Dr. Ridgeway’s services at once, and the
Bishop took the necessary steps for his appointment, with the
new title of Bishop of Kensington.

On the morning of January 7 he seemed particularly
well. His chaplain, Mr. Percival, was with him for a long
while, and they spoke of various answers which had been given
to the question, What is the greatest danger of the coming
century ? The Bishop said, ‘I have no doubt what is the
greatest danger—it is the absence of high aspirations.’ He
went on to say that he considered the greatest of all centuries
to have been the thirteenth, the century which produced Dante,
St. Francis, St. Louis, and Edward I. He spoke of the
Victorian age as the great philanthropic age, when every-
body was eager to do good to others; but said that most
people made the mistake of wishing only to do good in their

464 THE LAST YEAR 1900

own particular way. His general conclusion was that he
would put first the thirteenth century, then the age of Eliza-
beth, and third the Victorian age.

That afternoon he did not feel so well, and the next morn-
ing there was severe hemorrhage. The following six days
were a struggle between life and death. He was not often fully
conscious, but he did not seem as if he wished to live. Every-
thing that the devoted care of the ablest doctors could do for
him was done. On Sunday morning, in a brief moment of
consciousness, he sent a farewell message of complete
devotion to the Queen, and expressed his wish that he should
be buried in St. Paul’s Cathedral. On Monday morning with
‘God’ on his lips he passed away.

One of his devoted medical attendants, Sir Thomas
Barlow, wrote :

‘Let us be thankful he was spared painful suffering, and
that patience and gentleness was given to him in such great
measure. It is not for me to speak of higher things, but
there are four men who watched him in the time of trial, who
will always believe in him, and to whom his memory will
always be green.’

Till Wednesday evening his body lay in the chapel at
Fulham, watched day and night by some of his clergy and the
Sisters from St. James’ Home. Every morning there was
a celebration of Holy Communion, and hundreds came to gaze
on the beautiful peace of his face. On Wednesday evening
we carried his body to the Cathedral which he loved so well,
and where no Bishop of London had been buried for 280
years. The great candelabra, which had not been used since
the funeral of the Duke of Wellington, stood round the coffin
as it rested all night in the Choir, watched by the clergy of
the Cathedral.

A mighty congregation representing all classes of the
community and many different forms of religious belief filled
the Cathedral for the funeral service on Thursday the 17th.
The Queen, the Emperor of Germany, the Prince and Princess
of Wales, and other members of the Royal Family were
represented. The Chief Rabbi, the Greek Archimandrites,
and many leading nonconformists, including Dr. Parker,
Dr. Clifford, and Mr, F. B. Meyer, were there in person,

1900 APPRECIATIONS 465

The Archbishop of Canterbury committed his body to its grave
in the crypt. Two of his favourite hymns, ‘Rock of Ages’
and ‘ O God, our help in ages past,’ were sung at the service.

It is not for me to dwell on the extraordinary unanimity
and warmth of the appreciation expressed on all sides for his
life and character. Canon Scott Holland says :—‘ The out-
burst of enthusiasm for him was most real and unexpectedly
general. He had told. And his immense working power
had won hearts to him whom his outward brilliancy might
have puzzled and repelled.’ Lord Rosebery, who succeeded
him as President of the Midland Institute at Birmingham,
said, in his inaugural address in October 1901, ‘I think the
late Bishop of London was perhaps the most alert and uni-
versal intelligence that existed in this island at the time of
his death,’

It was not only his own Church that mourned him. The
Rev. F. B. Meyer, the well-known nonconformist minister,
wrote : ‘The Bishop was always so kind and generous in his
behaviour to me, that I am deeply, personally, bereaved, and
there is but one feeling of regret and sympathy in all non-
conformist circles. In the City Temple Dr. Parker had
spoken of him with warm admiration, and had prayed for his
recovery. The Chief Rabbi, Dr. Adler, wrote : ‘ None of his
clergy could have felt more keenly than I do the loss of my
ever to be lamented friend.’ Hundreds of societies, lay and
clerical, church and nonconformist, literary and philanthropic,
passed resolutions showing how highly they valued him.

I will quote one letter only, from Archbishop Temple :

‘His large and varied knowledge, his marvellous ability,
his devotion to duty, must be missed by all of us incessantly,
I shall miss him more than most other men will. His advice
when I consulted him was always sound, and I know no
instance in which I did not immediately follow it, and find
afterwards that I had done right in following it. His per-
ception of the real essence of every question that he had
to determine, or share in determining, was instantaneous, and
never mistaken. Among the bishops of many generations,
there are very few that could be put by his side. And he
possessed that crowning proof of superiority, that he was still
growing in both intellectual and practical power, and year
after year was greater than he had been before.’

VOL, IL. HH

466 TIIE LAST YEAR 1900

LETTERS 1900

About a new church in Leicester planned when the Bishop was at Peterborough.

To the Rev. W. P. Holmes (Leicester)
‘ Fulham Palace, S.W. : December 14, 1899.

‘There is no doubt (1) that English art in the middle ages
disliked an apsidal end ; they got rid of them when they could.

‘(2) That what we call altar cloths are peculiarly English.
From these two principles it may be inferred that, if you have
a basilica (which was not English), you are free from altar
cloths (which are English).

‘I think that you would do well if you had an altar
designed. You could see one at St. Matthew’s, Northampton.

‘But I advise that the structure be of wood : with a front
in three compartments. It is,a question how these compart-
ments are best filled with panels . . the design may be as
elaborate as you please; the structure may be carved
anyhow. But inside this may be placed panels, of needle-
work, of carved wood, painted on a gold background, of
copper, or brass, or silver gilt, or anything you like.

‘You might have various sets in time: but they should be
detachable, and not part of the structure.’

‘ London House: March 31, 1900.

‘My dear Mr. Holmes,—I feel some difficulty as an
amateur in criticising the work of a professional. ... Let
me state some general principles which occurto me. Modern
architects seem to me rarely to face the question, What is
a reredos? They regard it as something in itself—to be
considered as an ornamental appendage to the altar. Really
it ought to be considered as the means of fitting the altar into
the architecture of the east end of the church. Its function
is to dovetail the two harmoniously into one. The altar
itself can bear no relation to the size of the church, because
it is conditioned by the limitations of human stature. Its
height is given: and its breadth must bear a proportion to
its height. The reredos is a means of getting over that limi-
tation. Beginning as a decoration over the altar, it fits it
into the general scheme of the architecture.

‘In an apsidal church this consideration becomes pro-
minent. If the altar is to stand close to the wall, I think you
need so much structure as fits it in at the back and the sides,
and admits of a continuous decoration extending to the walls
on all sides. If the altar stands clear, there are two possible
ways: (1) a baldachino, or architectural canopy ; (2) an open

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1900 LETTERS 467

screen going across the apse, but revealing it, and arranged to
make a back for the altar, which may be as rich as _ possible,
but aims at no architectural, only a decorative, effect. There
is a third plan tried in St. Paul’s Cathedral, which I cannot
approve, of erecting a second apse within the first, with only
a slight curve. This seems to me an architectural heresy.

‘ Now if I apply these principles to the design which you
send me, I seem to find that it is conceived simply as an
extension of the altar upwards, without any lateral adjustment
to the rest of the church. In fact, the altar is treated as a
sideboard, standing loose, with a carved back. As such, the
design is very good. But is that the right conception ?

‘Again, there is the question, How far should the furni-
ture of the church be conceived in reference to the general
style of the architecture? I am not a purist on this point: I
think you may design your furniture as you like. But this
design is in the style of Wren’s Renaissance. It is very good
for that. But you have no examples in your neighbourhood.
I confess I should prefer an earlier style.

‘You will forgive these fragmentary remarks, and make
such use of them as you think fit...’

To Miss Constance Barrett ‘Fulham Palace: January 8, 1900.

‘Your reflection on character is very interesting to me.
You are quite right. An old divine, Whichcote, puts the
matter pointedly, “ Heaven is first a ¢emper and then a place.”

‘The place is the temper. “The kingdom of Heaven is
within.” You would find Church’s book on the discipline of
the Christian character very helpful. As I remember it (it is
quite short) it begins with Abraham. We forget the signifi-
cance of the beginning of religious history in him. Isaiah
shows its importance: “the hole of the pit from which you
were digged,” “ alone He took him.” It was the beginning of
individual character. Then Church considers the addition
made to character by the law of Moses, by the Psalmists and
Prophets : its expansion in the manifestation of Christ, and
the results wrought since by the Christlike temper.

‘You would find the line of thought very valuable for
teaching.

To Mr. A. Devine ‘ Fulham Palace: January 9, 1900.
‘My dear Sir,—I am much obliged to you for your paper.
The teaching of history is difficult at school, and its value
entirely depends on the grasp of the teachers. Examination
in a text-book is of no avail: the pupil must get a sense of
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468 THE LAST YEAR | 1900

social development before he understands history at all. This
can only be done by comparison. French history is excellent
for that purpose. Its process is more logical than ours. We
progressed by muddling and waiting: the French were always
solving questions and solving them wrong.’

To the Rev. T. W. Drury (Principal of Ridley Hall, Cam-
bridge) ‘ Fulham Palace: January 18, 1900.
‘Dear Mr. Drury,—. . . I did not expect my education

remarks to be reported. I was speaking to a small gathering
of heads and assistants of training colleges. I tried to get
them out of conventional lines. This is only possible in a
somewhat humorous vein. But I feel the great difficulty of
inducing anybody to think freely for themselves. We must
begin to ¢iznk more, and get out of our self-complacency and
our small area of view. Surely we are being bidden to amend
our ways. Let us try and do so all round.’

To G. H. ‘ January 17, 1900.

‘Why try for an occupation before it is necessary? I
really think that matrimony is the best profession. Its
advantages grow on you: the advantages of other things
diminish. I wish I could help you more about all these
things, but it is dreadfully hard to advise anyone by letter.
Things read so hard and so snippy and so cold. But the
only use of advice is that you should make the most of it,
and that it should serve to set you on thinking for yourself.
Whatever you decide must be decided by yourself at the
end. The only thing is to make up one’s mind and stick to
it. Happiness in life consists in doing what one deliberately
has chosen, because one’s pleasure in doing it is apart from
the results of doing it. This is complicated, but you will see
what I mean if you think over it.’

To Mr. W. S. Lilly ‘London House: February 3, 1900.

‘Dear Lilly—Thank you very much for your book,’ which
I have read with much interest and profit. It is hard work
to get the public to consider any principles: but surely our
parliamentary system is breaking down. People in general
are ceasing to be interested in the way in which the party
game is played. The present debate is a preposterous
instance. The thing is becoming antiquated. Yet we do not
face the fact. Will the shaking we are now undergoing make

1 First Principles in Politics.

1900 LETTERS 469

us any wiser? France grew no wiser from disaster. I think,
however, that we are quietly growing in receptivity.

‘There is a subject which I wish you would tackle—the
mischief done by the crude transference of the evolution
hypothesis to the conduct of human affairs. Because we have
assumed a formula which explains some things, we seem to
think that we have a method which will work by itself.
Consequently individualism has no restraint : it believes that
it will be kept right by the survival of the fittest. It does
not consider what that process involves,’

‘London House: February 14, 1900.

‘Dear Lilly—Thank you for your letter in this morning’s
“Times.” I am just correcting a proof in which I wrote that
virtue was “a mean state between excess and defect.” It
comes to me “between success and defeat.” So greatly
has recent military experience affected the mind of the
compositor, so entirely is he prepared to claim supreme ex-
cellence for whatever England does.’

To Professor Gwatkin ‘London House: February 14, 1900.

‘ Dear Gwatkin,—Many thanks for your “ Chapters.” They
are admirable and breathe that lofty spirit which a patient
study of history tends to engender. I saw in Archbishop
Benson’s life a passage in which he repeats a remark of the
Queen. “As I growolder lam moreand more astonished at
the littleness of so many people.” ! It is sadly true. How
is one to get the practical Briton to grow into larger views ?
Well, I suppose, we must keep on trying. But the joy of in-
dulging in a fray about ever so small a matter seems to be
invincible.

‘I hope you are prospering. I am too busy to prosper,’

To Mr. William Buckler (Baltimore)
‘London House: February 16, 1900.

‘My dear Buckler,—I am very much obliged to you for
the sermon of Bishop King which Beatrice has brought me.
The autograph in the beautiful Elizabethan hand is very
interesting. King’s portrait hangs in the dining-room at
Fulham. It is the best of the series, and is by Cornelius
Jansen. Hence King is more real to me than any of his
successors.

' The Bishop quotes from memory. The Queen’s words, as recorded by
Archbishop Benson, were: ‘ As I get older, I cannot understand the world. I
cannot comprehend its littlenesses.’ Life of Archbishop Benson, vol. ii. p. 11.

47° THE LAST YEAR 1900

‘ Beatrice enjoyed her time in the States very much... .
The only disappointment she endured was that she could
see so little of Georgie. She must really give her great mind
to the duty of recovery, and pursue it steadfastly in the spirit
of obedience to orders. I always hold that when one is ill
the only duty is to get better, and to this everything else has
to give way. ...

‘England has not been very cheerful lately. We are
having the conceit taken out of us, and take the process
rather soberly. But Iam convinced that it willdo us a great
deal of good. We have much to learn. We are indolent,
careless of ideas, too little sympathetic with other people,
trusting too much to our practical capacity, and not develop-
ing our intelligence sufficiently. It is a good thing for us to
be stirred up and made to feel that we cannot have every-
thing just for the asking.’

»

To one who, as a father of five boys and a parish priest, wrote to ask him
whether he considered that a young man could best be helped to lead a pure life
by confession

‘London House: March 6, 1900.
‘My dear Sir,—I am interested in your letter. You have
touched the point. Confession is meant to be the means of

relieving a troubled conscience: it is being used as the means |

of awakening a dulled conscience, which it then proceeds to
relieve in an unintelligent way. Advice, and warning, even
at regular intervals, can be given to the young without, the
formal apparatus of confession.

‘I think, however, that a boy’s father ought to do much
more for him than he does,’

To a young friend March 13, 1900.

‘Crises may come in life, difficulties, trials—how are you to
face them if the thought which is forced upon you is “ I married
this man for no reason, except that he asked me, and nobody
else did.” Of course everybody has to reduce their ideal to
terms of what is real : but this is done not by abolishing your
ideal and taking the real instead, but by clothing the real
with your ideal. You can always in anyone see much to
admire; you can put yourself in touch with this, and see all
the good, and feel it strike response in you, and gradually
lead further into mysteries of another’s life. But craves
for affection as a drunkard does for drink, and may take it
because it is given, and then feel the usual headache and be
sorry. One never knows what is best for another, or how
things may shape themselves. But one must press that they

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1900 LETTERS 4ji

should be decided in a reasonable way, and not be slipped
into.

To Mr. H. Oelsner ‘London House: March 17, 1900.

‘My dear Sir,—I am very much obliged to you for your
book on “ Dante and Modern Thought.” As you truly say,
“Dante can never be popular” because so much knowledge is
required to understand him with any completeness—know-
ledge moreover of an obscure kind, generally sought for that
reason only. This makes his influence the more remarkable.
It is partly the influence of a powerful personality, partly
that of a complete point of view over the world. Dante ex-
presses what must ever be the most stimulating conception
that can be offered to the mind—the sense of human power
to gain a consistent grasp over the whole of things.

‘ This I think is the secret of his abiding influence.’

To G. H. * March 31, 1900.

We all of us have our difficulties before we settle down in
life. It is a tedious process sometimes to know what one
wants, and then to consider how one is to get it. People
generally think about the first without considering the second :
or rather they are not willing to do what their first decision
requires they should do. Life is one thing, the occupation
one pursues is another. Music is an occupation which does
not and cannot fill life. One sings sometimes and thinks
about music. But life consists of one’s relations to other
people, and music does not make them, or teach one how to
keep them. One can never do good to others, in the sense
that they will do what one wants or become all that one would
make them. But in dealing with them one’s own self grows,
new things are made manifest to one’s eyes, new possibilities
come into view. Religion does not by itself give anyone an
interest in life. Religion may be as selfish as anything else.
But it tells one the meaning of life, explains one’s interests,
shows what is true and real in them. Girls at the present
day are curious creatures. They have obtained too much
freedom all at once. They do not know what they want
or how to get it. I quite agree with you that everyone must
settle their own problems; you must set to work and settle
yours. I think you will do it all right if you set about it in
a right way.’

To Mrs. T. H. Ward ‘London House: April 3, 1900

‘My dear Mary,—lf I did not sign the enclosed it would
not be from any want of regard to Dr. Martineau, but from

472 THE LAST YEAR 1900

a regard to the space in Westminster Abbey. I think that
we of this generation are carrying commemorations so much
further than our predecessors that we are losing all sense of
standard. Supposing that Martineau had been an Anglican
layman, I do not think that I could have supported him for
Westminster Abbey. The only person whom I have sup-
ported is Ruskin.

‘The question in my mind is simply one of literary rank
and permanent value of work. Unfortunately work in
religious thought is of great value immediately, but of slight
value in the future. I doubt if I should ever consider it of
Westminster Abbey rank. It is addressed to its own genera-
tion. It has not the advantage of literary style or method,
which give an abiding place to poetry or romance. It is
part of the work to be done in each generation, and is con-
sumed at once. It is not even like scientific work, the begin-
ning of something new.

‘Such are my views, founded largely on the fact,that space
in the Abbey will soon be non-existent. You will forgive
M@...6

To Dr. Guinness Rogers ‘London House : May 22, 1900.

‘ My dear Dr. Guinness Rogers,—I am very glad to receive
your letter. To me it is the most painful proof of our inade-
quate hold on the principles of Christianity that the profession
of those principles should be a cause of disunion and bitter
feeling. Attempts to remedy this fail because they conceive
unity as something external and structural. When we look
at the development of the world, we see increasingly varied
opinions kept within useful limits by a general sense of the
common welfare. I can conceive of a Christian common-
wealth, consisting of bodies of believers each with opinions of
their own about matters of organisation, understanding one
another, and respecting one another, yet conscious of a
common purpose, which transcends all human methods.

‘An Italian friend of mine quoted in a letter a saying
of a Greek Bishop—that our systems were necessary pro-
tections against the storms of the world, but though the
walls might be thick below, they all opened to the same
heaven.

‘I wonder if you have seen an interesting book with no
author’s name, which was sent me by the publisher (Mac-
millan) afew daysago. Itis called “ Pro Christo et Ecclesia.”
It is quite a short book, overstated, but containing food for
reflection.’ ’

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1900 LETTERS 473

To the Rev. W. J. Hocking
‘ London House, 32 St. James’ Square, S.W. : May 22, 1900.

‘Dear Mr. Hocking,—Thank you very much for your
kind proposal to pass on to me a curious relic connected with
the Russian Church. The “Old Believers” are the Russian
dissenters—only in that topsy-turvy country they are the
more conservative party. Church and State are so intimately
connected in Russia that it is a great difficulty how to deal
with dissenters. They are allowed to have certain churches,
but not to celebrate in them the Holy Communion. For
that purpose they must attend the Orthodox churches. Asa
sign of this, the doors leading to their chancels are locked
and sealed. Their great desire is to have the seals removed.
For this they approach the Emperor with petitions on occa-
sions when such petitions are presented.

‘The Easter egg which you possess must have been one
of the offerings which accompanied such a petition ; it could
with propriety be sent to the Emperor at Easter.

‘The study of Russian dissent is very curious. To it the
Emperor—Peter the Great—and his reformers represent
Antichrist. It lives entirely in the unreformed past. Yet
we in England glibly prescribe for this conservative people
more reforms made from above.’

To Miss Alice Gardner * London House: Ascension Day, 1goo.

‘Dear Miss Gardner,—Thank you very much for your
book on “John the Scot.” I am glad that you are interested in
medizval thought. Certainly John is little known or reckoned
with. I hope you may stir up some interest in him. I read
a good deal of the book on Sunday, and was glad to go back
to paths which I had forsaken.

‘ The toil of endeavouring to get any ideas into people’s
heads nowadays is vast. It is a refreshment to contemplate
ideas in the making.

‘I hoped that history would flourish at Cambridge. I
think that now there is a vast increase of popular interest in
the subject, and that popular treatment by a competent hand
is welcomed.’

To Miss Ella Pease ) ‘ July 23, 1900.

‘Thank you very much for the Masolino photographs '!
They are charming, and have all the Giottesque power of
telling a story. They fit in with the two series of Benozzo
Gozzoli at San Gimignano and Montefalco, where he painted

1 Of the frescoes at Castiglione di Olona.

474 THE LAST YEAR 1900

the lives of St. Augustine and St. Francis; but Masolino is
inferior to Giotto in composition. Art always proceeds in
the same way. There is a great master who conceives things
as a whole. Then come men who elaborate details. So
Masolino is interested in details of the human form. His
Baptism shows a desire for accuracy of attitude in separate
figures, to which he sacrifices the general effect. This is his
merit. He was a pioneer of Signorelli, who brought together
again the knowledge which Masolino and others laboriously
followed in details. . . . Thank you very much for bringing
back my memories of that charming and little known place.’

To Mrs. T. H. Ward (about ‘ Eleanor’)

‘, . . I think your problem is immensely difficult. Neither
of your two chief characters is obvious or attractive. They
are common enough, no deubt; but they are difficult to
represent so that anyone is interested in them: they seem
out of the range of strong sympathy. But those who see the
problem will appreciate the way in which it is handled.’

* July 26, 1900.

‘Dear Mary,—I did not mean to say that I was not drawn
to“ Eleanor ;” but I wondered if the general public would feel
a great interest in her. They would enjoy the Italian life,
and the clerical side, but I wonder if they will feel the
supreme interest of the dénouement as you have worked it out.
But I dare say Iam quite wrong. I have left off attempting to
gauge the possibilities of public appreciation of anything. I
frankly confess that it is beyond me.

‘l admit that the world is full of predestined failures : and
that failures in the life of the.affections are among the most
common, and at the same time the saddest. You have
worked this out, and have shown the way of self-abnegation.
But I wonder if the general mind will grasp it in the sense in
which you meant it. I hope they may. I think Americans
would be more perceptive than English on such a point,
but again I do not know. You know so much better than
I do. I should never have ventured to work out such a
problem with so many accessories. But then I am deficient
inaudacity. I personally feel that Manisty was not worth it,
and that Eleanor was worth a regiment of American girls ;
and I feel a burning desire to explain to them that they are
all wrong—that Lucy will bore Manisty after marriage, that
there is no real companionship between them, and that
Eleanor had better write his book for him, and be happy in so

1900 LETTERS 475

doing. You see that I am interested to the point of personal
feeling on the matter.

‘I know now what I forgot to ask you the other night.
Have you read “Pro Christo et Ecclesia”? It is written by
a woman. It has obvious faults, crudity, repetition, exaggera-
tion, but it has real thought in it.’

To Mr. A. E. Pease ‘ The Tower, Portinscale: August 14, 1900.

‘Dear Alfred,—I shall be delighted to read your book '
when I can get it. Meanwhile accept my thanks for sending
it me. ... Il am very glad that you have written it. Family
records are of great value, and the history of a family affords
materials for understanding the forces at work in society. I
have often thought that the history of England ought to be
written in that form for various epochs. It would tell you
more that is worth knowing than any other way.’

‘Fulham Palace: September 17, 1900.

‘My dear Alfred,—I have come home and have unearthed
your book from a clothes basket filled with varied literature.
I have read it with the greatest interest, and am very much
obliged to you for thinking of sending mea copy. I think
that what you have written is as impressive from its reserve
as from what is said. Lessons of the inner meaning of life
are learned in various ways, but every man must hold dear
the way in which he himself learned. As he looks back upon
his course through life, he can appreciate the cumulative
power of what may seem trifles—of what he regarded as
trifles at one time. Perhaps now we should all of us (yeu
and I are not so different in age that we may not stand
together) value highest those influences which made for
discipline. Is it not again disappearing? Does it not need
renewing? The system of the Society of Friends maintained
its necessity and kept it alive. We cannot do without it. It
is perhaps our chiefest national need. Forgive my moralising,
and accept my thanks.’

To the Rev. J. P. Gledstone
‘Fulham Palace, S.W. : October 8, 1900.

‘My dear Mr. Gledstone,—Thank you very much for
your Life of Whitefield, which I. have been reading with
interest. You put before your readers the secret of the man’s
power and influence. It is curious to notice at the present
day the change of popular taste. It is not now eloquence
but common sense, which is listened to. When Whitefield

1 Ex Umbris. Twenty-five copies only printed for private circulation.

476 THE LAST YEAR 1900

appeared utterance was rare, now it is one of the commonest
of things, and I am sometimes tempted to regret that all
means of appeal have become vulgarised by their constant
and habitual use. What strikes me about Whitefield is that
his sermons were appreciated by the highest and the lowest ;
that again is scarcely possible at present. I feel that what is
most necessary in preaching at present is to show the. power
of the Gospel not only to the individual, but to the whole
current of social and political life. I sincerely hope and pray
that your book may move the hearts of many. Thank you
for your kind expressions toward myself. I am glad to think
that we are fellow-borderers. I walked through Haltwhistle
in August in the pouring rain, being washed down there from
the Roman Wall.’

To the Rev. Prebendary Eardley-Wilmot
‘Fittham Palace, S.W.: November 3, 1900.

‘Dear Prebendary Eardley-Wilmot,—It always has seemed
to me one of the most difficult of a clergyman’s duties to
decide about the limits of his activity and the sphere of his
work, I think that they must differ from time to time, and
must stand in relation, partly to the needs of society, partly
to the position in which he finds himself placed.

‘I have tried to think the matter out with reference to
these considerations: and I think that at the present time a
clergyman can do most useful work on the School Board,
especially a clergyman such asyouare. You will understand
me when I express some dread at the development of (1)
what I will call the secularised clergyman and (2) the duszness
man clergyman. Frankly if you either were, or were likely
to become, either of these, I should dissuade you. But then,
if either alternative were probable, you would not have asked
my advice.

‘But if I may advise you, not only on general grounds,
but from my knowledge of yourself, I should say—Put your-
self at the disposal of the public in this capacity. You are
not a partisan; you are not wedded to your own opinions ;
your temper as well as your capacity would make you a
valuable member of the Board. So I say if the call comes to
you, listen to it, and let the election decide if it be God’s will
that you should serve Him in that way.’

To the Rev. Canon MacColl ‘Fulham Palace: October 1900.

‘My dear Canon MacColl,—Thank you very much for
your book and for your interesting letter. I quite agree with
you about the desirability of a good understanding between

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1900 LETTERS 477

us and the orthodox Church both on religious and political
grounds, but my own endeavours in that direction have
shown me quite clearly that this cannot be accomplished
from above, but must proceed from below. I mean by this
that it can only be brought about if the people on both sides
wish it.

‘Now the very attempts of superior persons on both sides
to promote this result tend to create suspicion amongst the
people. I think that we in England especially have gone
quite a wrong way to promote union of churches. We have
attempted to say, “The Church of England really holds and
does all that youdo.” We have then tried to get half a dozen
churches run on lines of which this would be true. We have
then taken foreign ecclesiastics to these churches with
triumph. But this has deceived nobody, and has helped
nothing. It would help us much more with the Eastern
Church if we said : “The English people had suffered so much
from the Pope that they were determined to forget him and
his ways. The result was that they dropped out of their
services some things which you have—not because they
objected to them in themselves, but because they reminded
them of the Pope and his false teaching. This is rather
interesting historically and the English people are still proud
of it, and look with grave suspicion on any attempts to add
ceremonies which they think resemble popery.”

‘I have no doubt in my own mind that this is the attitude
which will carry more conviction than any other. To put the
same thing from the political point of view. We English are
hopelessly insular. It is no good attempting a rapprochement
with any continental people on the ground that we are ani-
mated by a strong cosmopolitan spirit. You and I may
regret our excessive insularity, but if we are to make way
practically, we must frankly admit it, and then try to make
the best of it. Any attempt to deny it, or to minimise it,
only creates a popular outburst which sweeps all before it.
To go back to matters ecclesiastical. The Archbishop’s
decisions have said no more than I have indicated. Anyone
who believes that incense and reservation are tests of
Catholicity will not be satisfied by the fact that after three
centuries of disuse they are recognised as barely possible in
the Church of England, but are so distasteful to the great
mass of its members that they are never likely to be used
except in a few churches, very carefully prepared for the
purpose,

‘These are my views. I give them to you for what they are
worth,’

478 THE LAST YEAR 1900

To Mrs. T. H. Ward ‘Fulham Pilack: November 14, 1900.

‘My dear Mary,—You will be feeling deep sorrow at the
loss of your father, and I would like to write a word of sym-
pathy. Old age, long expectation of loss, all such things do
not really lessen the sorrow when it comes. For there is the
revival of many memories and the feeling of a breach with
the past that is irreparable.

‘I knew your father and appreciated him since I first knew
him at Lynton. He was always to me a type of the character
which above all aimed at sincerity, and asked nothing from
the world save liberty to live up to what he held most true.
It is a hard task, easy at it seems—perhaps the hardest any-
one can undertake.

‘I remember that I asked him to write a little volume on
“ Modern England” in a series of school books. He under-
took the book at first, and thén wrote to me and begged off,
saying that he felt he ought to sing the praises of modern
civilisation, but he positively could not. So it was with him
always : so he showed himself in his “ Reminiscences ””—not
seeking the prizes which are to be gained only by those who
throw themselves into what is, without a thought of what
might be.

‘He was one of those very rare characters who was deter-
mined “to keep himself unspotted from the world.” Surely
nothing is more precious when we look at it fairly than the
life of the student, the scholar, the thinker, whose chief aim
is to be true to the best he knows. Such was your father,
and all who knew him will ever feel that they were better for
that knowledge. It is presumptuous of me to write this to
you: but I write it as it comes, in deep sympathy and with
much affection.

CHAPTER XIV

CHARACTERISTICS AND SAYINGS?

THOSE who had known him long, all agree in saying that
the Bishop was one who changed singularly little. The
Merton undergraduate was in all essentials the same man as
the Bishop of London. He grew and developed, but the
fundamental character was unchanged, and ‘ that foundation
was given him by the north country and was very grave and
sedate.’? In spite of all his brightness and his humour, of his
warm affectionate ways, he was in truth very stern, grim he
called it—stern with himself, and stern with those for whom
he felt any responsibility.

Even in outward appearance he had changed but little.
From very early days he wore a beard, reddish at first, which
grew grizzled during the last ten years of his life. But his
thick fair hair disappeared early, and he became very bald.
He was always thin and spare, but his wiry active frame and
firm step told of strength and vigour. His height was 5 ft. 11 in.,
and he held himself well; his hands and feet were excep-
tionally well shaped. Since his schoolboy days his blue-
grey eyes had looked out through gold-rimmed spectacles,
which were, however, unable to veil their tender searching
expression, or the rapid flash of humorous appreciation with
which he would suddenly look up. He was fond of telling
how, after he had on account of his extreme short sight
early taken to spectacles without first consulting an oculist,
he was once dining in London, when a perfect stranger, who
had sat opposite to him, came up. after dinner, and said ;
‘Excuse me, but may I look at your eyes?’ The stranger

! For obvious reasons I have tried as far as possible in this chapter to use the
words of others. These are, asa rule, designated by quotation marks and in
many cases with the name of the writer. ? Dr. Bigg.

480 CHARACTERISTICS AND SAYINGS

turned out to be a distinguished German oculist, who told
him that the glasses he was wearing were quite wrong, and
would soon lead to the loss of power in one of his eyes. A
professional visit followed, and glasses were prescribed which
he wore all his life. His eyes were very strong, though he
was always careful to read in a good light, but he could read
all day in the train without fatigue. He never removed his
glasses, except in bed, and would peer over them to read a
particularly small print, saying that his eyes were as good as
magnifying glasses. ‘The most remarkable feature of his face,
without doubt, was his curious mouth, sensitive and mobile,
yet constantly closing with a snap in the act of will. Nothing
was more notable and pleasing than the way in which his
severe keen face, braced by the aquiline nose to a disciplinarian
austerity, lightened up and softened with this incessantly
recurrent smile.’' His habitual expression was one ‘of con-
centrated energy,’ but it could change in a moment to unre-
strained gaiety and amusement. In public, his bearing was
simple and dignified; he used little gesture in speaking.
He was always careful of his dress and appearance; F. C. G.
often caricatured him, but never quite caught his likeness ;
once he drew him as the episcopal stork, ‘ who is graceful and
elegant and steps delicately.’ In private, he was fond of the
strangest attitudes. Lying on the floor was his favourite
position, and he would twist himself into the most wonderful
contortions. He was at his ease under all circumstances, for
he did not know what shyness meant, and was absolutely free
from self-consciousness. There was not the least suggestion
of any air of superiority about him, and he never talked down
to people, or knew what it was to pose. This was not merely
an outward manner, it was the expression of character ; he did
not believe that his gifts were anything remarkable, and
honestly thought that he could learn from everybody. There
was nothing that he was more severe upon in those nearest
to him than any appearance of what he called superiority.
Ifanyone uttered a judgment with a tinge of contempt or self-
sufficiency in it, he would invariably say, ‘ Don’t be so superior.’

‘ He would suffer fools gladly, as many of us clergy know
by what is now a bitter experience. Whatever he may have

‘ Edmund Gosse, 7he Atlantic Monthly Mag., May 1901...’

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CHARACTERISTICS 481

thought in his heart of our ignorance, narrowness, and self-
sufficiency, his simple courtesy never failed him.’’ ‘ He had an
extraordinary faculty of talking to men, and especially young
men, in such a way as to make them feel that he really set
some value by what they said.’* The same quality appeared
in all his intercourse with others even when he was a bishop.
He wrote to his officials as a fellow-worker, asked their advice,
made remarks of a kind to put them in a good humour, and
gave them his full confidence. As he was neither shy nor
condescending, people readily felt at their ease with him and
children made friends with him directly. Once at a Fulham
garden party, a little girl absolutely refused to go till she had
spoken to him. This child had amused herself at home by
scribbling on scraps of paper, and saying that she was writing
letters to the Bishop of London. Her father, on bringing
her up, said, ‘ My little girl is most anxious to speak to the
Bishop of London, to whom she is always writing.’ The
Bishop lifted her up, kissed her, and held her in his arms whilst
he said, ‘I have not had your letters.’ When he understood
how it was, he said, ‘When you can write, mind your first
letter is to be to the Bishop of London.’ The next year the
child came again to the garden party, and, watching her
opportunity, ran straight across the lawn to the Bishop. See-
ing her coming, he stretched out his arms for her to run into,
took her up, and put her on his shoulder, and then, as she
afterwards told her father, asked whether she would like to
sit on the top of his hat.

Animals came to him as readily as children, and he loved
them, though, except for a cat in his college days, he never
actually had a pet of his own. But he would play with a
dog as if it were a baby; and whenever he met a dog on his
walks, he went up and spoke to it, however ferociously it was
barking, and nearly always succeeded in turning its anger
into friendliness. Birds were a special delight to him. In
Embleton days he paid much attention to a white rook from
the rookery, which had been tamed in the garden, and toa
hawk which for a while consented to stay with us, and used
to sit on the back of his chair; and he loved to watch the
birds that gathered on the lawn to be fed.

' Dr. Cobb. 2 Mr, J. Adam, Fellow of Emmanuel.

VOL. IL II

482 CHARACTERISTICS AND SAYINGS

In his later years it was a trouble to him that he could not
get quite young men, his sons’ undergraduate friends, to talk
freely to him. This was all the more disappointing because
all his life he had had to do with young men, and had got on
exceptionally well with them. It used to call forth some very
severe remarks on the modern undergraduate. ‘In my time
at Oxford, if any distinguished man came to visit the Univer-
sity, we would want to talk to him, or rather hear him talk ;
but nowadays the undergraduate seems to spend his days in
trying to avoid talking to anyone wiser or older than himself.’
When it was urged that it was only shyness, he answered,
‘Perhaps, but shyness is only conceit.’

‘He had not a shred of pride or pomposity. I never saw
him irritated, or put out, or brusque, or grumpy. Once or
twice I have heard him speak very sternly, but I never saw
him ruffled, embarrassed, or peevish.’ }

His greatest sternness, as well as his deepest tenderness,
was reserved for those nearest him. They alone seemed to
have the power to provoke him to sharp words, because to
them he applied the same high standard which he applied to
himself. It was part of his training of his children that they
should know that there was someone who could be irritated
by carelessness, noise, and things which often seemed to them
mere trifles; he said that it was a check to the prevalent
tendency to arrogance. Once he said to one of his boys,
after reproving him for some small piece of idiocy, ‘I think
you will allow that when I am nasty, few people can be
nastier,’ and when his son agreed, he went on, ‘ It is good for
you to know that there is someone whom you can’t annoy
without being made to feel it. I dare say you often think
me unfair, but it doesn’t matter ; it is good for your arrogance
to meet someone you can’t annoy with impunity.’ He hated
faults of inconsiderateness, carelessness, and general slovenli-
ness. He objected to needless running in and out of rooms, and
ifa child burst aimlessly into his study and said as an excuse,
‘Is mother here ?’ he would look upand ask : ‘ Has the cook
fallen into the fire? for if she hasn’t you needn’t hunt for
mother. No trifle escaped him, and his reproofs were
always original. If his children put their fingers into their

1 Dr. Bigg.

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CHARACTERISTICS 483

mouths, he would remark, ‘Your mouth is not a glove; your
tongue is not a piece of soap.’

‘But if he had to reprove for a serious fault his manner
was quite different; he might be stern, but he was just, and
his manner so kind and loving that he left only a sense of
shame and a desire to make amends,’ His children always
felt that he trusted them, and expected the best of them, but
he never wearied them with long serious talks, or overmuch
advice ; a very few words were enough to convey his meaning.
‘Your life is your own,’ he once said to one of his sons; ‘if
you want to make a fool of yourself, it’s not my business. I
can only give you advice; you are at liberty to take it or
ignore it. I am sure you will only do what is right, so what
does it matter what my opinion is?’ His children sometimes
thought that he was unduly severe to some people, and much
too kind to others, but they came to see that his severity was
due to his hatred of people not making the best of their gifts
and themselves, and that he hoped to brace them to effort;
whilst, when people had few gifts and were comparatively
helpless and useless, he felt that the best that he could do
for them was to be sorry for them and love them. To his
children he often said, ‘You could not have a worse sort of
fatherthan me. The best thing I could do for you is to die as
soon as possible, then there might be some chance for you. It
is so difficult for you to realise that you are in an absolutely
false position, and that, though I may be considered a great
man, you are absolutely nothing, and have no position. I
feel I ought to apologise.’ |

In family discussions he was very particular about the use
of words, and would constantly pull people up with a request
that they should define the word they were using. To some
phrases he particularly objected. If, after he had spoken, one
of his children said, ‘I don’t agree,’ he would say,‘ Who cares
if you agree ornot? Tosay you don’t is mere impertinence ;
say what you think by all means, but don’t tell me that you
don’t agree.” If anyone went on arguing in a futile way, he
would say, ‘ Hit that fellow over the head with a spoon.’
He disliked slipshod ways of talking, and the expression
‘I am going 7, or ‘I don’t want #0, was particularly
obnoxious to him, and was invariably answered with ‘ Do you

132

484 CHARACTERISTICS AND SAYINGS

want three, then?’ When tired he was often silent in the
family circle, but he always liked others to talk, and objected
to the conversation sinking to details about family arrange-
ments, which he described as ‘dregs.’ He did not like people
to mutter to their neighbours at table, and have private
jokes ; he wished the talk to be general. Letters were never
allowed at breakfast time, and business was not to be
protruded. He always enjoyed telling stories that he had
heard, and had an inexhaustible store of his own. The worst
riddles amused him, and he could talk nonsense endlessly,
and enjoy jokes of every kind, bad and good. ‘His humour
was always gay and pleasant,’ he set a high value on cheer-
fulness, and on the existence of a sense of leisure and repose
in family life.

We often teased him for his exaggerated expressions in
his descriptions of things and people he had seen. But
though his opinions on them were often pronounced, and he
enjoyed discussing people, he was never bitter, his judgments
were always kindly. In earlier days his standard had been
almost purely intellectual, but in later life simplicity and
charm and genuine goodness seemed to appeal to him most.
He said, ‘The power of simple goodness is the greatest in
the world.’

Often he told us the stories of the novels he had been
reading, and discussed the problems they raised, and also
plots for novels, which he had himself elaborated generally
when lying awake at night. Love problems were of special
interest to him. He wanted everybody to be married,
thinking that only so could their characters be fully
developed. He said that if a man only cared enough, he
could get any girl to marry him, and that a girl, if she went
about it the right way, could make a man propose to her.
When he heard of a man who had been refused, he said, ‘He
has just to go on proposing at definite intervals, and she will
accept him in the end.’ Another time he said, ‘No man
ought ever to be refused ; he ought to know what the answer
will be before he proposes ;’ and again: ‘The mistake that
young people will make is to think that they can all be
Romeos and Juliets—that is nonsense. Falling in love is a
gift like anythlng else. People keep asking themselves, “Is

CHARACTERISTICS 485

this the real thing ?” instead of asking whether itis the best they
are capable of.’ He often spoke on this point in connexion
with the appearance of the Browning Letters, and lingered
one morning in the drawing-room at London House to
discuss it for more than an hour with a friend and me. ‘It
is curious,’ he said, ‘though men and women are quite ready
to admit that they are not great painters or great musicians or
poets, they all assume that they are capable of being artists
in love. When they read the Browning love letters, they
assert that they must be unreal, because they themselves have
not felt such things; but an artist in love is no commoner
than any other artist. He considered Dante’s grasp of the
theme of love to be without parallel in literature. Ofhimself
a friend who had known him long and intimately said, ‘No
living man was more loving, or more deeply penetrated with
a sense of the infinite power of love in human life.’

Once when one of his sons was sitting talking to him after
dinner, and he seemed to be more absorbed in his own
thoughts than in what was being said to him, he suddenly
looked up and remarked, ‘Have you ever thought that
Othello was quite right in strangling Desdemona? She can’t
have been a nice girl, or she would never have eloped with
a Moor. I wonder if anyone has ever acted it from that
point of view.’ He used to say that he would like to be em-
ployed by parents to break off undesirable engagements, that
he could imagine many ways of getting young people to do
of their own accord what they would not do on command.

He never wished to absorb the conversation, and he had
’*the rare power of developing his own opinions without
haranguing. Wherever he was, whether in society or at
a meeting, he was ‘ the ruling spirit, but he never dominated,’
he was never aggressive or interfering. Into every subject
he touched he threw a fresh interest and ‘illustrated it
from his wealth of knowledge.’ It was always the subject
which possessed him, never the effect he might produce.
And this was perhaps one of the reasons why he was accused
of flippancy. Though possessed of rare powers of sympathy,
he was yet often quite unconscious of the effect his words
might produce on the minds of others. He was playing with
ideas, he did not remember that everyone did not understand

486 CHARACTERISTICS AND SAYINGS

the game. ‘He puzzled people.’ He seemed to ‘hide himself
in paradox and playfulness,’ and seldom to show his deeper
side, so that there were those who doubted whether it existed.
Some who, after they had known him for some time, at last
discovered it, imagined that something new had developed
it; they did not see that it had always been there, but that
they had failed to discern it. Others at once saw through
‘his apparent levity to his real and permanent seriousness.’
His aversion to explain himself also helped to make him
a lasting puzzle, especially to some of his unorthodox friends,
who could not understand how a man of his mental qualities
and temper ‘could stand by historic and Catholic Chris-
tianity.’

In Cambridge, where people were apt to take themselves
rather seriously, he was often tonsidered flippant, because he
was not what they considered a professor ought to be; just as
at other times he puzzled, and sometimes shocked, people
because he was not what they thought a clergyman or
a bishop ought to be. Hedid not say the right thing, he
was too often unexpected, or, as he put it himself, ‘he was
a child of nature.’ ‘The pity about him,’ said one who knew
him well, ‘is that he is much too clever by nature. He does
not know how clever he is, and does not see that the things
he says are sometimes so clever that no one can understand.
He never explains, and people don’t like being mystified by
another person’s cleverness, He used to say of himself:
‘There is no man so incautious with his tongue and so
cautious with his pen as Iam.’ His conversation struck some
as ‘ very unguarded ;’ he liked ‘to run tilt against established
customs and prejudices. But no one who ever saw in the
least below the surface, or who sought his help or advice,
thought him flippant fora moment. It was that very quality
of unexpectedness which gave intercourse with him its special
charm. He had ‘the quality of attracting interest ; he was
never dull or left others dull, he made others interested in
what he was interested in himself. As one friend said, ‘You
sat down to hear what he had to say on a well-worn subject
with a feeling of eager expectation, knowing that it would
be something new.’ And the same thing characterised him
in the intimacy of private life. He was always fresh.

OE ee ene aot
CO AP ge, tT a LE CS DAP es ee Te

SO i Sage et I hg a Tn ig ee Nm ag

ee gt ei at

CHARACTERISTICS 487

His point of view was never the commonplace or conventional
one, and he was quick to criticise another’s platitudes. Yet
he had no desire to appear unconventional, and was puncti-
lious about small social observances. ‘Be conventional in
small things, then you can be unconventional in large ones’
was a favourite maxim of his.

His mental freshness and vigour was one of the reasons
of the strong influence he exerted on those who came across
him. One of his clergy writes :

‘TI used often to meet him, and he would sometimes ask
me to go a little way with him, with the result that I always
saw something in a new light, and had my head full of ideas
for a month . . . what always struck me as so wonderful was
the way he understood one and saw what one was aiming at.
It was not his intellectual equals that interested him exclu-
sively, he was interested in ordinary people, in his own clergy
too; he thought them quite worth talking to, and he gave
them of his best. I never knew anyone who was so mentally
and morally stimulating.’

Very many said of him: ‘I spoke to him only a few times,
but he was the strongest influence in my life.’ ‘ His freshness
and the force and intensity of his nature enabled him to effect
in two minutes what another might fail to do in two hours.’
But this influence was not of the kind usually called personal
influence ; on the contrary, ‘he scrupulously avoided all
attempt to use personal influence gained through the affec-
tions.’ He never wanted people to think as he did merely
because he thought so. He said once, ‘There is no one

‘amongst your acquaintance who less wishes you to accept

any of his opinions as infallible than I. His constant effort
was to make people feel their own responsibility. When
asked advice he seldom recommended a definite course; he
would point out considerations which might not have struck
his questioner, and try to help him to see the matter in all
its bearings, but would make him feel that the responsibility
of the decision must be his. He described his method once
in dealing with a very difficult case of a girl who was deter-
mined to defy the ordinary moral law. ‘I was very imperti-
nent and very apologetic. I tried to get inside her guard and
not say the obvious things, to which she had answers cut and

488 CHARACTERISTICS AND SAYINGS

dried.’ The secret of his influence was said by many of his
friends to arise from the fact that he made them feel at their
best. ‘He did more than reveal himself to us, he revealed us
to ourselves.’ He always seemed interested in the person to
whom he was talking, and ‘ he knew how to encourage so as
not to puff up with praise, but to give the feeling of responsi-
bility which comes with the knowledge that a good and great
man thinks one capable of doing good work.’ But though,
generally speaking, his influence may be described as bracing
and stimulating, his tender sympathy was always ready when
needed. ‘ There was no one like him if one had a sore trouble
of one’s own. He met you on your own ground and yet
insensibly lifted you to his. He did this by his real personal
sympathy, by his keen insight, and by his deep goodness.’
‘His large clear-sighted vision seemed to see far away over
other men’s heads, and yet his sympathy was always ready
for the smallest child.” ‘Being with him makes me so much
happier and the whole world and everything around seems so
much broader and better and more beautiful, and full of
infinite possibilities and realities.’

He never forgot old friends. ‘I doubt,’ said one of them,
‘if there has ever been one whose brilliant gifts lifted him so
high and yet who never forgot his lowliest friends, and never
diminished his affection for them ;’ and another, ‘ however great
he became, he was always too great to forget those to whom he
had been kind in days gone by.’ Few things seem to have
made so deep an impression on those who came across him
as his kindness. One of his London suffragans says: ‘ One
scarcely meets a clergyman who has not had individual dealings
with him in his brief London episcopate, and over and over
again, as we speak of our loss, the remark is made “ He was so
very kind to me, I can never forget it.”’ This kindness sprang
from an ever-growing interest in, and love for, his fellow-
creatures. In early Oxford days, his friendships had been
strong and numerous, but had been confined to the men around
him ; life at Embleton had enormously widened his sympathies.
He said himself, ‘I learned a great deal in Northumberland,
learned to know something about human life as it really is—
a subject which universities do not teach.’ In his later years
at Fulham he once raised the question, ‘ What is life given us

CHARACTERISTICS 489

for?’ None of the answers proposed satisfied him, though he
agreed that there was much in the suggestion that ‘life was
an opportunity for service ;’ finally he himself gave the answer,
‘life is an opportunity for loving.’

His deep interest in character was both the cause and the
effect of his historical studies. ‘Dr. Hodgkin says, ‘I have
sometimes doubted whether, with all his great literary talent,
his heart was really in literature. It seemed to me that
human affairs, moulding the lives of others, and organising a
parish or a diocese, was work which he really enjoyed more
than writing a book. In other words, that he was essentially
not a student, but a “shepherd of the people.”’ ‘His chief
characteristic, said Count Balzani, ‘ was that he was primarily
a pastor of souls.’ But anyone who watched him closely day
by day could not fail to see that his first love was the life of
a student. ‘All I want is to read a book,’ he said again and
again. His capacity as an administrator was always inter-
fering with the studies to which he longed to devote himself;
his practical powers, his gift for managing men and things,
could not be suppressed. In leaving Embleton, he deliberately
chose the life of the student. ‘I had to reflect, he wrote,
‘whether others could not do administrative work as well,
whether the Church at present did not need some students.
It seems to me that, in the face of the possibilities of the
future, a time may come when a clergyman with a know-
ledge of ecclesiastical history may be useful. I thought that
nowadays there was plenty of zeal and plenty of practical
capacity applied to the work of the Church; on the other
hand, I scarcely think there is enough learning. He was
profoundly convinced of the supreme value of knowledge, and
considered that the ordinary tendency was to care much too
little about it. He was fond of saying, ‘The English boy
begins with a rooted objection to knowledge; he dislikes
knowledge for its own sake; he not only dislikes it, he de-
spises it.’ |

When Dr. Stubbs was made a bishop in 1884 he wrote to
him, ‘I must say this, that for the sake of the Church I think
it is the very best thing that has happened for many years.
Frankly, I have been somewhat alarmed lately at the thought
of the want of zwzsdom in the Bench. There is zeal, earnest-

490 CHARACTERISTICS AND SAYINGS

ness, practical ability, eloquence enough, but wisdom? I
think that your accession to the Bench will bring strength
exactly where it is needed. Your large knowledge of every-
thing concerned with the history, position, and principles of
the Church will be of incalculable usefulness.’ When a bishop
himself he realised what his knowledge had done for him.
During his last illness he was talking with his doctor about his
work, and saying that, on the whole, he had not suffered much
from the mental strain of it. He said, ‘The accumulation
of knowledge is drudgery, but acting upon knowledge and
experience already gained requires no effort. As circum-
stances arise and present themselves to me, I make my
decisions, and when they are made dismiss them.’

Dr. Randall Davidson. (Archbishop of Canterbury)
writes :

‘Curiously enough—or perhaps it is not curious but
characteristic—he took little part in our public debates while
he was Bishop of Peterborough, although he regularly at-
tended Convocation and served actively on more than one
special committee. I believe that the only speech of im-
portance which he delivered there during those five years was
in May 1893, when quite briefly, but with his usual lucidity
and force, he dealt with the subject of the fasting reception of
Holy Communion, pointing out, in answer to the contention
that the rule of compulsory fast had never been abrogated,
how grave would be “the limitation of the practical power of
the Church of England as an independent branch of the
Catholic Church if we were to admit that the practice of the
Church since the sixteenth century did not in itself establish
an abrogation of customs which before that time had been in

use.” As Bishop of London he had of course to bear a>

larger share of the burden of debate, and his speeches used to
strike me as possessing a forcefulness and grit which were
unique. Even to prosaic “business” his pithy sentences
sould impart an unwonted vitality, and on some of the deeper
questions he used to pierce with pungent force to the very
root of the difficulty and set us all thinking afresh. This
I think I can say with certainty, that every speech he made
was pointed and original and suggestive, and that everybody
listened for what he had to say.

‘Often have I envied his power as he sat steadily writing
his letters during the whole course of a debate, and yet was
ready at a moment’s notice, if the necessity arose, to make

CHARACTERISTICS 491

a substantial cantribution, as finished in outward form as it
was solid in material.

‘Again, in a long experience of committees, I have never
known any chairman with a power comparable to his of re-
ducing the outcome of tedious and troublesome discussion into
a few clear and cogent paragraphs in the form of a report.
With him it used to be the work of a few minutes. On one
memorable occasion in a large committee, where agreement
had seemed to be hopeless, no sooner did the last speaker in
the keen discussion sit down than the Bishop presented for
our consideration a somewhat full report, every word of which
he had drafted at the moment. It was unanimously adopted
and has since been widely read. I remember Archbishop
Temple saying to me, at the close of a Convocation week,
“For sheer cleverness Creighton beats any man I know.”’

People were struck with the way in which ‘his knowledge
was always available, ‘the rapidity of thought with which he
could apply it,’ and ‘ the swiftness of his decisions ; he saw at
once all the salient points.’ Dr. Temple said of him ‘He
seems to tear the heart out of asubject.’ He once said himself,
‘The mind that has been trained in any right method has
gained power which can be applied to any object.’ His know-
ledge helped to give him ‘ breadth of view and entire lack of
prejudice ; he always saw both sides of a question, he could
not be unfair.’ Most of all it helped him in forming judg-
ments. ‘I have known no man who came nearer possessing
“the right judgment in all things.” Is there a single instance
of his having blundered or muddled things?’* It also
‘taught him to see things in proportion ; he had studied the
controversies of the past too deeply to find those of the present
all-engrossing.’

It was perhaps the fact that he did not feel that all
the points in dispute were themselves of vast importance,
that made him unsatisfactory to the extreme parties on either
side in the ritual difficulties. He saw the importance of
their effect upon the life of the Church, but many seemed
to him comparative trifles. The mental attitude which led
him to remark about incense, ‘ My personal inclination is to
say, if they like to make a smell, let them,’ was not likely to
satisfy either side.

But though the tendency of his mind was to take wide

1 Mr. P. Lyttelton Gell.

492. +CHARACTERISTICS AND SAYINGS

views, to get at the real issues of things, he did not despise
details, and would take the greatest trouble to understand
the small difficulties of a parish or an individual ; yet ‘he was
never buried under details, he himself was felt throu all the
routine of his work.’

No detail escaped his observation. Hindag some banns
of marriage read out in an English church on the Continent
led him to look into the question of the legality of English
marriages abroad. His critical eye always fell upon public
advertisements and notices in which he would point out errors
of grammar or expression. He used to say that he would
like to be appointed censor of all public notices in Europe.
He did not grudge trouble given to small points, and liked
all the appurtenances of his life to be appropriate and suit-
able. This made him anxious to have really fine episcopal seals.
‘It is terrible how poor the modern seals are, he wrote, and
Mr. Harris Brown was commissioned to design his seals, which
according to ancient custom bore the Bishop’s image upon
them. He was quick to notice dress, and whenever possible
his daughters would consult him on the choice of their clothes,
and he liked to choose himself the wedding presents for his
friends. In lecturing he would often break off to develop
some matter of detail which had struck him ; for instance, in
a lecture on Church History he said ‘that he was pained to
see the clergy wear the foreign form of the college cap, the
biretta, which was not at all English, neither was it ecclesias-
tical, but simply academic; why should the English borrow
a foreign form of an English hat?’

In home life he noticed everything; anything untidy or

broken about the house or garden displeased him. He was
critical too about his food, though never exacting. As a young
man he had taken great trouble in the choice of his wine.
He saw no need to condemn enjoyment of food and drink,
which he considered as among God’s gifts. In domestic
matters he was never managing or interfering. He entirely
trusted those who worked for him, and never interfered in the
management of house or garden or stables, except by occa-
sional criticisms. He never criticised other people’s ways or
opinions unless they interfered with his; down to the minu-
test detail, he respected human liberty.

CHARACTERISTICS 493

In his engagements he was exact without being a slave to
punctuality. He insisted on the importance of not hurrying,
and said that one should always be five minutes before the
time for everything ; he spoke of the advantage of a clergy-
man being at his station five minutes before the train, as then
he had a chance of talking to the porters and others. He
said that, if he was a schoolmaster, he would not keep an
undermaster who was constantly late for early school, and he
once refused to accept a candidate for Ordination because his
college testimonials said that he had never been able to get
up for morning chapel. His own punctuality depended upon
the importance of the occasion. He expected his carriage to
be at the door punctually, and he would come when he thought
right. What he cared most about was not getting fussed ;
punctuality for its own sake was nothing to him. ‘There
can be no dinner till I come,’ he would say if he were late for
a dinner party. He was never fussy in getting ready for
anything. Before a journey he might seem to put off his final
preparations too long, but he was always ready without any
scramble ; he never got into a fuss. Inall our family history,
one solitary occasion stood out when he had been fussed
because he thought that a bag containing important papers
had been left on the Worcester platform, when we started on
our journey to Cambridge. ‘ Where’s my black bag ?’ became
a favourite remark when his children wished to tease him.

He never worried, and if he grumbled his grumbling was
quickly over. He once wrote: ‘It is always good to get rid
of anything that bores one. I like to have a swear at Louise
or Percival when anything goes wrong, and then the air grows
clearer. It helps one to pour sometimes.’ But, as a rule,
he kept his troubles to himself, and refreshed himself by talk
about other things.

In travelling he never made difficulties, but submitted to
extortions or neglect rather than make a disturbance. One
thing, however, never failed to arouse his wrath, the extrava-
gant demands of the porters who carried bags from the train
to the Channel boats. He would load himself with his lug-
gage rather than submit to them, and though he laughed at
himself for his irritation, it returned on each occasion. He
always liked to take care of himself and to find his own way,

494 CHARACTERISTICS AND SAYINGS

and maintained that if he did give in and ask, he was always
wrongly directed. If he was staying in an unknown neigh-
bourhood, he did not wish to be told what walk to take, but
preferred to explore for himself. He had an almost unerring
instinct for finding his way, though he asserted that he did
not know his right hand from his left, and could not remember
whether the sun rose in the east or the west.

An indefatigable walker himself, he never realised that
anybody else could get tired, and was rather intolerant with
those who gave in to physical fatigue. He had a theory that
everyone was tired at first on a walk, and that the only thing
to do was to go on till you got over this first fatigue. In the
spring of 1900, walking on a hot day in Italy with his son, he
had decided to go up to see the view from the terrace in front
of a chapel on the mountain.” His son was tired and hot, and
said he saw no point in going further, that the view was good
enough where he was, and that he would wait there. The
Bishop turned upon him, and said ‘ Do you think I am not tired?
I have been ever since I started, but we said we were going
to that chapel. I dare say the view may be no better, but what
does that matter? It’s exactly that lazy giving in that is
ruining everything in England. You may say this is a small
thing, but it is a type of the lack of energy of the young man
of the present day. It is because an Englishman, when he
said he would do a thing always did it, that we are where
we are; but that quality is decaying now.’

His vitality struck everyone who saw him. It was said
of him, ‘he was one of the life-givers of the world ;’ and
again: ‘It was always an inspiration occasionally to hear
him, and feel that he was directing things in this vast place.’ '
‘Very few men, however long lived, have effected so much as
he did ; the merest man in the street is feeling what a great
vitality has gone out of the world.’? ‘Some existences are a
revelation of life, and his was one of those.’* I do not know
whether to call it the cause or the result of his vitality, but he
seemed to live absolutely in the present. He seldom cared
to talk about the past; his children could never get him to
tell stories about his boyhood. He simply said, ‘I was just

» Rev. Bernard Wilson. ? Mr. Bernard Bosanquet.
* Count Balzani.

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CHARACTERISTICS 495

like any other boy.’ The future interested him only in so
far as he tried to discern what were the permanent results of
current thought and events, or to ponder the question whether
the greatness of England had reached its climax or not. But
his main concern was with the present.

‘ He was often called versatile. I should say many-sided.
Versatility seems to carry the notions of superficiality and
levity, but he was not open to either of these suspicions. But
certainly he combined a large number of really great gifts.
He was amazingly facile, yet also extremely laborious.’! ‘Day
after day in London he has poured forth an unceasing flow
of speeches on all manner of subjects with a facility of expres-
sion which can scarcely be matched. He has never repeated
himself, he has never been commonplace, he has never failed
to throw some light on the subject on which he has spoken.’ ?
His readiness in speaking and preaching was remarkable. For
instance, once at Worcester, on going into the Cathedral for
service, he found that the special preacher for the day had
not arrived ; so he himself mounted the pulpit when the time
came, and preached without any difficulty. He said that,
once he had fixed upon a text, he was all right. This readi-
ness was perhaps sometimes a snare, since it enabled him to
preach without having given much time to special preparation.
Some thought that his sermons occasionally gave the impres-
sion that they had not been well thought out before. He
would get so interested in the earlier part that he left
insufficient.time for the application of his lesson, and he
had a tendency to be too long for some people’s taste. His
friends amused themselves with testing his readiness. He was
at Hutton Hall for the wedding of Sir Joseph Pease’s daughter,
and went with his host in the evening to a great banquet of
servants and tenants. Without any warning, Sir Joseph, with
a twinkle in his eye, at the end of his own speech called upon
Mr. Creighton to speak, and he enjoyed telling afterwards
‘how well Creighton had responded to this unexpected call.’

He worked quickly, and could readily turn his mind from
one subject to another. ‘No one preached more clearly by
his action the value of intervals. In five minutes’ waiting he
would settle some matter, make some pregnant remark which

' Dr. Bigg. * Dr. Chawner, Master of Emmanuel College.

496 CHARACTERISTICS AND SAYINGS

would be food for thought and action long after. It was of
course the celerity with which he worked, and the capacity he
showed for turning his mind from one thing to another, that
alone enabled him to get through the extraordinary amount of
work which he did. As was once said, he had not only great
talents, but had what nearly doubled them, the power of
using all his gifts at any moment.’ Perhaps in his later
years he may have come to see that his powers were excep-
tional, as he could not help recognising the estimation in
which he was held. But he genuinely believed that anyone
could do the things he did if they only tried, and he was never
anxious to push himself forward and be the one to do the
thing which had to be done. One of his Embleton pupils
writes: ‘He had one most attractive virtue. He was entirely
unworldly. I never knew anyone who was so little a respecter
of persons or who laid himself out so little to impress those
who might be useful. He had a great self-confidence, with-
out any conceit, which was most impressive to youth.” ‘ At
bishops’ meetings he did not intervene very often. When he
did, it was with a short, compact statement on the matter
in hand, or on some principles involved in it. There was
always a noticeable attention in the meeting when he rose,
and what he said never failed to impress. Having said
his say, he did not seem keen to debate upon it, and did
aot as arule reply to criticisms. He seemed a little aloof
from the meeting, and generally wrote pretty steadily through
it—he seemed to know beforehand what each speaker was
likely to say, but nothing escaped his attention.’ He was
always able to attend to two things at once. He would sit
in aroom reading while others were talking, so absorbed, appa-
rently, in his book that one almost forgot he was there, till he
suddenly made a remark which showed that he had heard all
that had been going on. In his last years he used always to
rest his mind by reading novels in-the drawing-room when
at home in the evenings. All his life a novel-reader, he
had as a young man mostly read French novels, and had
very seldom cared forthe current English novel. Afterwards
he had been much interested by the great Russian novelists.
Now he was ready to read almost anything, and it was difficult
! Dr. Talbot, Bishop of Rochester.

CHARACTERISTICS 491

to keep him supplied. He seemed always able to extract
something, some food for thought, some light on character or
motive, from everything he read, even from a trashy novel.
Analytic and introspective or problem novels he would never
read. What he liked best was a good story of adventure.
Anthony Hope he always enjoyed, and amongst the stories
which pleased him most in his latter years were Mason’s
‘The Courtship of Morrice Buckler’ and Halliwell Sutcliffe’s
‘Rycroft of Withens.’ He also read Jokai with much enjoy-
ment, and detective stories had a special fascination for him ;
he revelled in the adventures of Sherlock Holmes.

Of modern poetry he read little, except always with the
keenest interest and appreciation the works of his old friend
Mr. Robert Bridges. But he frequently turned to the older
poets. He never went abroad without putting some little
volumes of Shakespeare in his bag, and some book of poetry
was always in his pocket on his long walks, to be read either
to himself or aloud to his companion when he rested. In this
way, on one of his last journeys to Italy, he read the whole of
Milton’s poems, and in talking about him to Mr. Herbert -
Paul afterwards, said that he found in them no proof of
Milton having been an Arian. When he was taken ill in
Italy he had Cowper with him, and one whole day, in bed and
in much pain, he amused himself with ‘ The Task’ and ‘ The
Sofa.’

For serious reading he found little time during his London
life, and yet he always knew everything about the books that
were being read; a glance at their contents, a talk with
‘someone who had read them, was quite enough for him. All
his life he declaimed against the idea that it was necessary to
read the books that were coming out. Speaking to some
High School girls at a prize-giving, he implored them not to
give way to the temptation to read the books that everyone
else was reading; but at the same time he told them that
books should be their greatest pleasure in life, and that any-
one with a definite interest would always find time to read.
To the last he never spent time over magazines, and no
periodical except the ‘ Historical Review’ was taken in by him.
He read with absolute ease French, German and Italian
books. Dr. Hodgkin recalls, ‘He was reading some rather

VOL.. II. KK

498 CHARACTERISTICS AND SAYINGS

stiff Italian book without a dictionary. I asked him why,
and he said, “I make a point of never using a dictionary if
I can help it.” I look at the unknown word till | force it to
tell me its meaning.”’

With his exceptional activity of mind and body, he needed
a great deal of sleep. He loved his bed, and hated getting
up. He said that bed was the one place where he was out of
mischief. He liked at least eight hours in bed, and at
intervals would give orders that he should not be called, and
enjoy a long sleep. As a young man, when tired out at
Oxford, he had sometimes gone up to London and taken a
quiet bedroom at the top of an hotel so as to get an
uninterrupted sleep. At times he suffered a good deal from
sleeplessness, but he never took anything to make him sleep,
and said that after a time he had learned that if you took it
calmly, and did not fuss, lying awake did not matter much.
He said to someone who was inclined to take a sleeping
draught, ‘It is better to do without sleep and be bored.’

He was without any luxurious tastes, and cared nothing
for money or position for himself, though he was always care-
ful for the dignity of his office. Once coming away from
a great service at St. Paul’s, when one of his boys wished to
make a fifth in the carriage, he said, ‘ I don’t want to be seen
driving with a menagerie.’ But away from his official position,
no one could be more careless of appearances. He seldom
entered a shop; but if he had to buy anything, whether for
himself or for others, he liked to buy the best that could be
got; he was quite ready to do without it, but if he got it at
all it must be good.

He was particular about the things which were done for |

him without being exacting, and knew how to make it a
pleasure to work for him, so that from his college days on-
wards he was always well served. He only had one curate,
one domestic chaplain, one butler, and one coachman. He
always got the best out of people simply by expecting it, as
a matter of course.

His strength of character could not fail to impress every-
one who met him. ‘He was every incha man. ‘He was
the best of whips, with a light strong hand and a perfect
temper. ‘He was absolutely fearless and self-reliant,’ and

CHARACTERISTICS 499

perfectly indifferent to criticism ; he never troubled to know
what the press said about him. It was the truth he cared
for, and, strong in his own opinions, he was always ready to
listen to other people. The truth he was convinced would
not be reached by controversy. ‘I detest controversy, I want
to speak the truth,’ he said. He believed that no man could
engage in controversy without becoming the worse for it.
He defined it as ‘ the subtle temptation to fight the battle of
the spirit with the weapons of the flesh.’ He did not like the
conception of life as a perpetual warfare, and thought the use
of so many military metaphors in hymns and elsewhere was
a mistake. The text ‘He shall not strive nor cry nor shall
his voice be heard in the street’ meant a great deal to him.
One of his earliest sermons was preached on it, and it explains
much of his life. He had nothing of a fanatic or even of an
enthusiast in his composition ; his conception of the greatness
of the truth was too intense for that. ‘Men stretch forth
their hands to grasp the truth,’ he said, ‘and think that the
little they can grasp is the whole.’ But the fact that he
realised that there might be other ways of apprehending the
truth than his did not make him less firm in his convictions.
‘Of all men that I have ever met, he best united personal
conviction with complete toleration. He himself wrote
once, ‘ It is so odd that so many people’s hold of truth should
be objective and exclusive. It seems to me the simplest
thing to recognise the good in every kind of effort for Christ.’

He was essentially a peacemaker. ‘It is noteworthy that
never a word from his pen has been published but tended
towards greater good-fellowship, or a more practical recogni-
tion of the brotherhood of races.’ And for himself what he
always longed for most was peace and quiet.

In many ways no one was more absolutely independent
of others and self-reliant than he. ‘There is nothing in life
except to enjoy what one is doing. It is the only secret of
happiness, he wrote in 1899....Three years before he had
written, ‘ Relationships founded on a sense of lasting affection
are the sole realities of life ;’ and the affectionateness of his
disposition showed itself constantly by word and look and
deed. It might have seemed to the superficial observer that

' Review of Reviews, Feb, 1901.
KK2

*

500 CHARACTERISTICS AND SAYINGS

he was very dependent on others. But he wrote again:
‘ After all, life is an individual thing. It is quite true that
our lives are largely dependent on other lives. But what are
we in our very self? I have a place in the world, a life to live,
a work to do, independent of all outward things and of all
other persons.’

When he heard of those who were utterly crushed and
broken by the death of their dearest, and felt that life had
lost all its meaning for them, he said that that was quite
wrong; the death of those we love should not crush us;
the fact that we have known and loved them, that love
has revealed them to us, is the important, the permanent
thing. As he wrote once, ‘If you were to die to-morrow, I
would still be eternally grateful for having seen you, still
would live in your presence through my life.’ It was charac-
teristic of him that he seldom made arrangements or took
trouble to see his friends unless they had any special need
for him, though he always rejoiced when he did meet them.
Otherwise he would say that it was enough for him to know
that they existed.

In reality his life was built on two principles: one, the
necessity of being something in oneself, of finding oneself,
and having one’s own existence, one’s own life to live, apart
from any other ties; the other, the infinite importance of our
relationships, as expressed in two favourite phrases: ‘ Life
is the sum of our relationships,’ ‘ Life is an opportunity for
loving.’

This apparent contradiction is explained by the one per-

manent relationship which, to those who knew him, inter- |

preted the meaning of his life, his relation to God; as he
said, ‘In Christ all becomes plain. In my relationship
towards Him all my other relationships find their meaning
and their security.’

CONVERSATION

Of the nature of his conversation much has been said.
Descriptions cannot recall it. I can only quote some of his
sayings and opinions.

The following notes of a conversation on January 1a,

3
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2
ae
ur
4

CONVERSATION 501

1897, were written down by a friend immediately after-
wards :

‘The great fault of the English is their insularity, and
insistence on the English ideal as the only one possible.
Hence comes our want of sympathy with those we govern,
e.g. in India. The Russians, who understand Oriental ways,
avoid this fault.’

‘We should consider what are the essential points
in the Anglo-Saxon ideal, and be prepared to make con-
cessions to Oriental ideas and thoughts, remembering that,
as Kidd declares and Younghusband attests, the European
supremacy is moral and zo¢ intellectual.’

‘England is the most artificial of states: a single disaster
might crush us, as Athens was crushed. (Our coal cannot
last for ever. France is at’rdpxns, but she is perhaps the only
European country that is.) Loss of commerce would ruin us
as effectually as loss of men ruined Athens. So, again, would a
single defeat at sea: hence the paramount importance of the
navy.

‘But, if this is so, can we hope that such an artificial
fabric will long escape a shock of some kind? If it can do
so for thirty years, it will be enough. By that time the
colonies will have navies of their own, and England will
gradually be able to retire. She will be the mother country
to which the richest of her children will return to spend their
money. There will be no great industries in England, but
she will be the intellectual centre of a vast empire, radiating
culture to its fullest limits. This was the dream of Athenian
statesmen for their city : it is a view which I am endeavour-
ing to impress upon the statesmen of my acquaintance. I
hope I may succeed—but when I was asked to find a pro-
fessor of history for Victoria I could get nobody to go!’

One who, on May 21, 1900, came to him very sad and
perplexed, writes :

‘He saw that I needed a deep, far-reaching explanation
of all the deepest things of life—life here and life beyond.
He took me with him, as he talked, along strange and
wonderful paths of thought, trying to teach me the great,
large purposes of life—talking of nature’s laws, of the
apparent sadness and cruelty of the world. He said that “if
we went deeper, we could see a meaning, that nature’s laws
work for the race, not for the individual. We cannot learn
without suffering. Children hate going to school and doing
their lessons ; they want to play. So itis with us. All our

502 CHARACTERISTICS AND SAYINGS

lives we must go on learning. Afterwards, perhaps, we shall
be, as it were, in classes. —Those of whom we have made friends
here (Make to yourselves friends of the Mammon of un-
righteousness) will greet us, and be the first to talk with us
afterwards. We shall perhaps say, ‘You helped me awfully
down there.’ We shall still go on learning, only time and
space, which belong to our lives here, and are part of our
mental limitations, will be no longer. Here wesee and know
a few people clearly, and those whom we thus know are very
dear to us; there we shall see and know everybody we meet
far better than we know those whom now we know best on
earth. And what more than all that? We cannot know.”

‘ These are little bits of what he said. He seemed to carry
me far away.’

He was fond of saying that ‘things were really equal,
that one man was as happy as another (i.e. in the circum-
stances of his life), that one man was as good as another, all
were so infinitely far from the perfection of God that little
differences did not matter. Someone once said to him:
‘How one wishes that it were just a little easier to do right!’
His answer was: ‘ If it were a little easier we should still be
so far from the perfection of God, that we should only wish
it to be still a little easier.’

Having agreed once after much pressing to speak on some
occasion, he was asked afterwards whether it was not a suffi-
ciently interesting occasion to justify the pressure: ‘Oh yes,
my dear A ; but then they are all interesting occasions.’

At a prize-giving at Highgate he said: ‘The days have
long ceased when bishops could visit Highgate Woods for the
purpose of hunting. I presume that they used to go thereto ©
hunt boars ; nowadays bores hunt me, even in my own house,’

In an after-dinner speech ; ‘It is difficult to analyse the
characteristics of the sub-species “ prelates,” whose habitats are
sporadic, and of many of whom the habitats are the last
places in which one is likely to find them.’

In a discussion about the universities he said ‘The uni-
versities are a sort of lunatic asylum for keeping young men
out of mischief.’ Again: ‘ The universities are hospitals for
the treatment of football accidents.’

The conversation at a London dinner party once turned
on the use of national adjectives. ‘Why,’ said one, ‘ should

SAYINGS 503

we talk of American humour or of German silver?’ ‘Or
French leave?’ said another. ‘Or the nonconformist con-
science ?’ said the Bishop.

To a clergyman who was doubting whether he ought to
accept a living which the Bishop had offered him, he said, ‘I
think you ought to do what you are told ; there is not enough
obedience in this diocese. The kind, half-joking way in
which this was said made the clergyman at once reply, ‘ Very
well, my Lord, if you say “ Go,” I shall do so.” He imme-
diately rejoined, ‘I say, emphatically, Go.’

Once after a somewhat trenchant remark ot his someone
said : ‘ Ah, Bishop, I am afraid you don’t suffer fools gladly.’
‘No, no,’ answered the Bishop, rather gravely, and then added,
with a sudden smile, ‘ But I do suffer them,’

Once overhearing a somewhat unorthodox person ex-
horting some clergy to leave off teaching the facts of religion
and teach only the ideas which the facts represented, he
turned round and said, ‘ But you forget, a fact when it is past
becomes an idea.’

Speaking on the condition of the Liberal party : ‘ There is
at present no great question of principle before the country
calling for a manifestation of Liberalism. When such a ques-
tion arises the Liberal party will become a power again.’

He constantly declaimed against our national conceit, and
in the darkest days of the war he said, ‘ History has always
shown that the Gods dislike and punish a conceited nation.

SAYINGS

‘No people do so much harm as those who go about doing
good,’
‘Nothing does good to others except what comes out of
your own experience.’

‘Take care of your temper and your work will take care
of itself.’ 7

‘Salvation lies in the recognition of difficulties,’

‘You can do anything so long as you don’t apologise.’

‘Never try to explain.’

‘It does not so much matter what you do as where you
are tending.’

‘The more sure I am that I am right, the less I care
about getting my own way.’

504 CHARACTERISTICS AND SAYINGS

‘The good are not so good as they think themselves, the
wicked are not so wicked as the good think them.’

‘ All true knowledge contradicts common sense.’

‘ Socialism will only be possible when we are all perfect,
and then it will not be needed.’

‘An Englishman is not only without ideas, but he hates
an idea when he sees it.’

‘True patriotism consists in desiring to be wiser. If we
perish, we shall perish of sheer stupidity, from which we show
no desire to deliver ourselves.’

‘The clever woman that I meet at dinner gives me back
in better words the ideas that I myself have given her.’

‘All the best work has been done by those who with
difficulty found time for it in crowded lives.’

‘When you begin to draw definite lessons and morals
from history, you at once cease to be searchers after truth,
because you have a bias which tends to take you to one side
or another.

‘An untrained mind does not see the nature or the limits
of the problem.’

‘The widespread knowledge of the teacher is most of all
needed in selecting lines of work for his pupils, as it is so
extremely difficult for the student to choose them wisely.’

‘ Nothing is so pernicious as mere diffusion. What you
need is a definite object and perseverance.’

Speaking about elementary education, he said: ‘ Our
present system has been on trial long enough to show that it
is a failure. We have looked upon education as an end in
itself, instead of as a means to an end, the fitting of the chil-
dren for their work in life.’

‘The one education question is what the child should be
taught, and how best to teach it.’

At a Cambridge Syndicate he described the career of an
extension lecturer as ‘A mission to enlightened greengrocers.’

‘The two chief means of teaching are exaggeration and
paradox. One or other is necessary to attract attention and
show reason for independent thought.’

To a lady discussing her children’s education he said, ‘ It is
wonderful how little mischief we can do with all our trouble.’

‘ We are all severe critics of one another : it is the function
of the preacher to induce us to turn the power of criticism
upon ourselves,’

‘Progress comes from dissatisfaction and renewed effort.’

‘If you want to get on in life, it must be by a steady grind
which never loses sight of the end.’

SAYINGS 505

‘ The world is still an oyster which has to be opened by
one’s effort.’ ;

‘What a man sees depends very much on the eyes he
takes to see with.’

‘The sole use of knowledge is to enable you to distinguish
between what is true and what is plausible.’

‘The scientific truth is almost diametrically opposed tc
what the truth would appear to be at first sight.’

‘Action cannot be carried out in terms of omnipotence,
but criticism is expressed in terms of omniscience.’

‘The complexity of society hides the fact of the simplicity
of life, the joy of which depends on understanding “ Thou hast
set my feet in a large room.”’

‘To speak simply is more difficult than to speak
learnedly.’

‘ Art is the veil of beauty over law.’

‘Vulgarity is an inadequate conception of the art of
living.’

‘True pleasures pacify and do not excite.’

‘Our appreciation of the world is the basis of our know-
_ ledge of its drawbacks.’

‘The appreciation of a principle knocks the bottom out of
complaints.’

‘The truth that “one thing is as good as another” must
be admitted if one is to emancipate oneself at all from the
world—and make anything worth having of life.’

‘It is good to admire when we can, but it is bad to turna
man out of his actual shape that we may be better able to
admire him.’

‘Not all need experience, but all need the fruits of
experience.’

Freedom means ‘that men wish to do things for them-
selves, instead of having them done for them.’

‘We cannot improve the world faster than we improve
ourselves.’

‘Paradoxes are useful to attract attention to ideas.’

‘More important than the things we do are the things we
do not do: more influential than the things we say are the
things we do not say.’

‘It is the duty of the newspapers to tell us what to do:
it is our duty not to do it. If things were as simple as our
critics make them out, we would have done what they advise
long ago.’

‘ The administrator has to drive the coach : his critics are
always urging him to upset it.

506 CHARACTERISTICS AND SAYINGS

‘The struggle for victory is rarely the struggle for truth.
If it has to be entered upon, keep coldly to the facts and pay
no heed to jibes.’

‘ There is a temptation to all who are in authority to do
something striking to assert themselves.’

‘In dealing with ourselves after we have “let the ape and
the tiger die,” we have to deal with the donkey, which is a
more intractable and enduring animal than the others.’

‘The English in Ethelbert’s day were not likely to take
Christianity from the King’s wife, because they were much the
same then as now, the most obstinate, pig-headed, least to be
persuaded of all people.’

‘If you plunge enthusiastically into the task of supplying
the popular market, you lose the capacity for raising the
popular standard.’

‘If the writer of the Book 6f Proverbs were writing in the
present day, he would put among the unsearchable things
“the clerical mind.”’

‘I can’t endure a man who speaks of the Church as
‘oe

‘Dogma is simply the maintenance of the historic Christ
against imperfect definitions and the tendency of thought
that would whittle away His personality and dissolve Him, if
the process was allowed to go on long enough, into a simple
man.’

‘We need seriously to consider whether harm has not been
done by the prominence given in our day to the doctrine of
the Incarnation over the doctrine of the Atonement. It
weakens the sense of sin, which is one of the great bulwarks
against unbelief, and through which we live into a larger
world.’

‘It is amazing how happiness entirely depends on good-
ness.’

‘Happiness is growth into the purpose of the world.’

‘Modern philanthropy consoles fearfulness, our Lord re-
buked it.’

‘Sympathy cannot be cultivated in itself; it has no rules.
It is born of insight, and rests on respect. It is the result of
all life’s training.’

‘We confuse wisdom, not with knowledge but with smart-
ness and success.’

‘The work of the Church of England is to maintain truth
held according to liberty yet with order.’

‘The Church of Rome cares for truth and order, but sub-
ordinates truth,’

ene a eal
. z gh “ate
i a 5 eles ae eel k: ais JS rit ih va z a
OEE TEE ee EN Bee tee ee ae

SAYINGS 507

‘The nonconformists care for truth and liberty, but truth
is dissolved into opinion. It is hard to maintain the three
together, but this constitutes England’s work.’

‘Wisdom is the quality which interprets the universe, and
the individual life which forms part of the universe. It is the
perception of God’s purpose in the world, and it interprets
our own individual share in that purpose. Wisdom is shown
by the way in which we look on life and the world. He only
is wise who realises that the world of which he forms a part
comes from God and goes to God.’

‘The Reformation set Scripture against the Church—and
read it without due sense of its historic meaning. It must be
read in the sense in which it was written. The Reformation
set aside the witness of the Church to the Lord. The
reformers regarded Scripture as the revelation, but the
object of revelation is the Lord Jesus Christ: God’s purpose
to restore mankind, manifested in the person of Christ. Faith
is our grasp of Him, a faculty given by God to be used or
cast away. Of that revelation Scripture is the record and
the Church the witness.’

‘Life has no more to give than the opportunity of loving
service.’

‘The only way in which we can help others is by recalling
the way in which God has dealt with ourselves.’

‘Personal trust in a person, this is the secret of true
religion. Outward things, systems, doctrines, are only useful
as they keep open the way to Jesus, and point to Him as the
one object of the soul’s desire,’

APPENDICES

1

PRAYER SAID BY THE BISHOP BEFORE THE RE-
MOVAL OF THE BODY OF MR. GLADSTONE FROM
WESTMINSTER HALL

‘O Avmicuty Gop, with whom do live the spirits of just men made
perfect, after they are delivered from their earthly prisons: we give
Thee hearty thanks for the life and example of Thy servant, William
Ewart Gladstone, whom Thou hast been pleased to call from the toils
and troubles of this world to the realm of eternal rest. And we
beseech Thee to grant us Thy grace that, as we commit his body to
the ground, our hearts and minds may be so moved by the remem-
brance of his long and manifold labours for the service of mankind,
his country and his Queen, begun, continued and ended in Thy faith
and fear, that we fail not to learn the lessons which Thou ever
teachest Thy faithful people by the lives of those who love and serve
Thee: through Jesus Christ our only Lord and Saviour.—AMEN.

II

LETTER FROM THE BISHOPS OF LONDON AND
ROCHESTER ON RELIGIOUS EDUCATION IN ELE-
MENTARY SCHOOLS

To the Clergy and Laity of the Church of England within the
District of the School Board for London

INASMUCH as the question of the future of religious education in
Elementary Schools is a matter of grave importance to Churchmen,
we have thought it desirable to ascertain, within the district of the
School Board for London, what are their desires, and what practical
steps can legitimately be taken to give expression to those desires.
To this end we invited to deliberate with us privately a number

510 APPENDIX II

of those who seemed, by their practical experience and their expressed
interest in the question, fitted to represent various forms of opinion.
We think it well to lay before those whom it may concern a state-
ment of some general conclusions which we would commend to their
careful consideration. It is to be understood that these conclusions
are our own, and that those who helped us by their counsel are not
to be regarded as necessarily assenting to them.

We would, in the first place, express our deep thankfulness that
there is no desire in England to separate secular and moral education
from its connexion with the Christian religion. We trust that
Englishmen are ready, as they ought to be ready, to make great
sacrifices of their individual preferences to the supreme interest of
maintaining this connexion ; and that they are also ready to consider
how the legitimate desires of all religious bodies can be met, and the
largest amount of religious liberty in educational matters can be
secured. Our object is to press for an extension of that liberty.

We would do so without any reference to past controversies, and
in a spirit of entire good will towards existing institutions. We fully
recognise the immense advantage which has been conferred on
London by the work of the School Board. We admit that the
School Board has paid due regard to the interests of religious teach-
ing within the limitations imposed by law. Its work has been most
valuable, and we are thankful for it. But for reasons which we
proceed to state, its inherent limitations must always, in our judgment,
prevent Churchmen from regarding it as adequate for the due
maintenance of the Christian Faith as dominant in the formation of
character and the direction of conduct.

The present system of undenominational teaching rests upon an
attempt, which cannot be ultimately satisfactory, to teach such
religious truths as no Christian objects to. It is obvious that a fairer
and juster plan would be to teach such religious truths as any body of
Christians desired for their own children. Difficulties of arrange-
ment might be pleaded at first against such a plan, and as reasons
for regarding the present arrangement as inevitable; but such
difficulties need not always be insuperable. There are many reasons
which lead to the conclusion that it is most desirable to consider
how they can be overcome. We think it well to put before you two
considerations on this point.

(x) Undenominational education cannot be what it professes to
be. A syllabus of religious instruction may be prepared by the
authority of the School Board. We recognise the excellence of the
syllabus now in use for London. But the actual teaching given by
the teacher inevitably depends upon his own knowledge and his own
opinions. It is possible to exclude the actual formularies used by

APPENDIX II 511

any religious body ; but these formularies are only interpretations of
truth contained in the Scriptures. The individual teacher must, if he
be a Christian, belong to some religious body ; and his teaching, just
in proportion to his earnestness, must be penetrated by the spirit of
the religious body to which he belongs. Religious teaching does, as
a matter of fact, in proportion to its vitality, rest upon a denomi-
national basis ; and it is wise and fair to recognise this in a system of
national education.

(2) It is increasingly admitted that elementary education is
successful in proportion as it supplies those who are taught with a
desire to continue their studies after they have left school. Efforts .
have been directed to bring children on leaving school into close
connexion with Continuation Classes, Technical Classes, and the
like. Now in the case of religious teaching, continuation work must
necessarily be done by some religious body. The religious instruction
given to a child at school cannot go very far. The most important
thing that early teaching can do is to attach a child to some church
or chapel which will undertake his continuous teaching. Thus, the
undenominational system traverses in religious teaching, a principle
to which, in secular subjects, it attaches growing importance,

Dealing with the matter simply as one of efficiency in religious
education, we cannot escape the conclusion that religious instruction
would be most efficient if given on a denominational basis. We
believe that this is largely recognised by all who are interested in
education as such. Our desire is that the question be regarded as
an educational question, apart from controversies which place other
considerations before the welfare of the child—which is to us the
sole object to be pursued.

In the light of these general considerations, we would define the
position which the body of churchmen might adopt towards the
question raised by the present condition of elementary education.

It is obvious that the maintenance of voluntary schools, in a
condition of thorough efficiency, is of the highest importance as up-
holding the type of a system which we believe will ultimately pre-
vail. But it is also desirable that the board schools should meet
with the utmost sympathy from churchmen, that the excellence as a
general rule, within its limits, of the religious instruction given in
them should be fully recognised, and that every effort should be
made to secure its efficiency, and encourage the teachers who are
engaged in giving it. Because the present system is not all that we
desire, we should not underestimate its value, nor hold aloof from it.
It is a matter of national importance that it should be as good as
possible on its present basis.

We look forward to its amendment by a frank recognition of the

512 ' APPENDIX II

actual condition of religious opinion in England. We only ask that
the wishes of parents be consulted about the education of their
children, and that every child in England should receive instruction
in the religious beliefs of the denomination to which its parents
belong. This is a recognition of the principle of religious liberty
which is so dear to Englishmen. If it be clear that that object is
fairly and impartially pursued, it will commend itself as the true
solution of present difficulties.

It is well that the first steps towards this end should be taken
experimentally by way of supplement. It is by experiment that
practical difficulties may be gradually overcome, and the method of
supplementing would use to the full, and disturb as little as possible,
religious instruction at present given in board schools. Religious
instruction, in accordance with the wishes of the parents, might be
given on one or two days in each week during the period assigned by
present regulations to the purpose of religious instruction. It is greatly
to be desired that this teaching should, as far as possible, be given
by teachers attached to the staff of the schools. Where this is not
possible, religious denominations might be allowed to provide their
own teaching, either inside or outside the school.

It is not for us to enter into the details of such a plan, which
would require arrangement in each case. But any efforts made for
that purpose would be well worth the trouble. Such experiments
would be fruitful in results; and a fair trial would do much to
remove the perplexity which now besets the minds of very many
earnest Christian men and women, about the future of that religious
education which is in their eyes a matter of supreme importance in
the development of our national life.

Commending what we have written to your consideration in the
presence of Almighty God, who has called us to a knowledge of His
truth, and has committed it to our keeping,

We are, your faithful servants in Christ Jesus,
M. Lonpon :
Epw. RoFFEN.

III
EPITHALAMIUM.
COMPOSED IN 1960
Art last has dawned the long expected day
When I may claim you mine,
And clasp you in my arms and bear away

Your body sweet and fine,
Of a still finer soul the meet array.

fo

Se ne a ed ee

Do pe eine

ee ee. Peg

APPENDIX II 513

But stay, how can that be?
Your soul, how can I dare
To claim it for my care,
who have proved my own inconstancy ?
My hold on good is small,
If I have heard at all
The mighty trumpet call
Of what was highest in me, I forgot
Its claim before some tempting plot
Of vanity or greed,
And paid no further heed
Than was enough to find some paltry plea
Why I should disregard the thing I did not see.

Now, sweet, you come to me
Bringing your spirit pure with me to abide
For ever by my side ;
A gracious monitor of all good things,
Strong in the insight clear which springs
From duty done when seen.
Sadly I think of what I might have been,
Better and nobler, worthier of your choice,
Yet as I am you chose me,
And that election shows me
That what I might have been, I still may be ;
Therefore I will take courage and rejoice,
Hearing your pleading voice,
To arm myself anew that ancient ill may flee.

To thee I turn, O Lord and Master Love,
Seeing in all, thy endless subtilty.
Thou caughtest me as I was passing by
Unheeding, and didst fix my vagrant eye
On her who was to prove my soul’s entirety
I looked and looked again,
First seeking to explain
The charm that stirred me in the head’s deft pose,
The eye’s appeal, the rose
That mantled and then died upon the cheek,
And when I heard her speak,
New meaning breathed from each familiar phrase :
And when I made reply,
I listened with amaze
VOL. IT. LL

514

APPENDIX III

To my own voice, for through its swell
There seemed to breathe a sigh ;

As when a captive hears a pitying throb

Amid the senseless clamour round his cell,
And with a sob

Tells hopefully once more his tale of woe ;
My soul e’en so

Won power its inmost meaning to express,
So body and soul afire
With passionate desire,
I found my happiness

Summed up in her who summed up all in me,

Then with new-born humility
I taught my lips to sue, tutored my will
Into submission upon hers, until
I dared to ask her for herself, and she
By her great answer shed new life on me.
Such was thy work in me, O sovereign Love,
But what in her? How didst thou move
Her peaceful spirit and tempt it from its rest 7
Did pity draw her to a soul forlorn,
That hope might spring new born,
And her life grow as power stood confest ?

I know not: but enough of what is past,
A joyous future I would now forecast.
No disillusion dim her golden dream,
But what I seem
To her may I discover and become ;
This be the task that waits me in our home,
Our home—where we the treasure may unfold
Which clash of soul and sense
Has cast upon life’s shore for us to hold
As our inheritance.
Our home—love’s throne,
Whose grateful sway we own:

We were his slaves, henceforth his subjects free,

Happy to live beneath his sovereignty,

PR ee Sk a eee

aa I in i

APPENDIX IV

IV
MARRIAGE HYMN
COMPOSED 1900

O Tuov who gavest power to love
That we might fix our hearts on Thee,
Preparing us for joys above

By that which here on earth we see.

Thy spirit trains our souls to know
The growing purpose of Thy will,
And gives to love the power to show
That purpose growing larger still.

Larger, as love to reverent eyes
Makes manifest another soul,

And shows to life a richer prize,
A clearer course, a nobler goal.

Lord, grant Thy servants who implore
Thy blessing on the hearts they blend,
That from that union evermore

New joys may blossom to the end.

Make what is best in each combine
To purge all earthly dross away,
To strengthen, purify, refine,

To beautify each coming day.

So may they hand in hand advance
Along life’s path from troubles free ;
Brave to meet adverse circumstance
Because their love points up to Thee,

LL2

515

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gy tale
em
oe id
aye

ae ee.
PERE a eT fer Fo” Cag
POTTER Md Eo

sa a ala ME a ae ey

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Acca, Bishop; Adam de Marisco; Adrian IV., Pope; Aidan, Saint;
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of Canterbury ; Bowes, Elizabeth ; Bowes, Sir George (2); Bowes,
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Records of the Borough of Northampton. 8vo. 1898.
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J. A. Symonds : ‘The Renaissance in Italy.’ Jdid. p. 582. Reprinted
in Historical Essays and Reviews.

J. Gairdner: ‘Letters and Papers, Foreign and Domestic, of the Reign
of Henry VIII” F. A. Gasquet: ‘Henry VIII. and the English
Monasteries.’ Jdzd. vol. iii. p. 373, 1888. Reprinted in Aistorical
Essays and Reviews.

J. H. Lupton: ‘A Life of John Colet.’ dzd. p. 575.

T. Craig-Brown : ‘ The History of Selkirkshire.’ 02d. p. 791.

J. F. Smith: ‘Martin Luther and the Reformation in Germany.’ did.
vol. iv. p. 777, 1889.

W. A. Shaw: ‘Minutes of the Manchester Classis,’ &c. Jdzd. vol. vi.
p. 399, 1891.

F, Ehrle: Historia bibliothecze Romanorum Pontificum.’ Jdzd. p. 379.

T. G. Law: ‘Conflict between Jesuits and Seculars in the Reign of Queen
Elizabeth.” Jdid. p. 583.

‘The Excommunication of Queen Elizabeth.’ Jdzd. vol. vit. pp. 81-8,
1892.

L. A. Burd: ‘ Macchiavelli’s “Il Principe.”’ Prof. P. Villari: ‘ Life and
Time of Niccolé Macchiavelli” dd. p. 354. Reprinted in Aistorical
Essays and Reviews.

F. Nitti: ‘Leone X. e la sua politica” Jdzd. vol. viii. p. 146, 1893.

P. Desiderio Pasolini: ‘Caterina Sforza’ Jdzd. vol. ix. p. 766, 1894.
Reprinted in Aizstorical Essays and Reviews.

M. de Maulde-la-Claviére: ‘La diplomatie au temps de Macchiavel.’
Ibid. vol. ix. p. 142, 1894.

Also reviews in the Manchester Guardian and the Academy between
1871-1884.

CHARGES, &c.

A Charge delivered to the Clergy and Churchwardens of the Diocese of
Peterborough, 1894. 8vo. pp. 69, Peterborough. Reprinted in The
Church and the Nation. .

The Position of the Church of England.” Address to the Ruridecanal
Conferences in the Diocese of London, 1899. 8vo. pp. 24, London.
Reprinted in Zhe Church and the Nation.

The Church and the Nation.’ A Charge delivered to the Clergy of the
Diocese of London at St. Paul’s Cathedral, 1900. 8vo. pp. 39, London,
Reprinted in Zhe Church and the Nation.

522 BIBLIOGRAPHY

SERMONS

Sermon preached in memory of the Rt. Hon. Sir George Grey, Bt. in
Embleton Church, 1883 ; with an account of the memorial windows.
8vo. pp. 26, Newcastle-on-Tyne, 1883. Reprinted in Memoir of Sir
George Grey, 1901.

‘The Pastor and His People. Farewell Sermon preached in Embleton
Church, 1884. 8vo. pp. 12, Newcastle-on-Tyne, 1884. Reprinted in
University and other Sermons.

‘ The Christian Ministry.’ Sermon preached at the Ordination held in
Alnwick, 1884, Newcastle-on-Tyne, 1885. 8vo.pp.12. Reprinted in
University and other Sermons.

Sermon preached before the Sanitary Congress at Worcester, 1889.
8vo. pp. 6, London. Reprinted in University and other Sermons.
Sermon preached before the Folkestone Church Congress, 1892. Church

Congress Reports, 1892, pp. 24-33.

A National Mission. Sermon preached at the 89th Anniversary of the
British and Foreign Bible Society, 1893. 8vo. pp. 19, 1893. Re-
printed in University and other Sermons.

Sermon preached at the close of the Birmingham Church Congress, in
Worcester Cathedral, 1893. Church Congress Reports, 1893, pp. 554-
561. Reprinted in University and other Sermons.

Sermon preached in St. Paul’s Cathedral, 1896, on the 195th Anniversary
of the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel, 8vo. pp. 16, London.
Reprinted in the Mind of St. Peter.

Sermon preached at the close of the London Church Congress, 1899.
Church Congress Reports, 1899, pp. 439-445. Reprinted in Zhe Mina
of St. Peter.

‘The Hope of the Future.’ Preached in Sandringham Church, 1899.
8vo. pp. 18, London. Reprinted in The Mind of St. Peter.

Sermon preached at the Church Parade of the London Rifle Brigade in
St. Paul’s Cathedral, 1900. 8vo. pp. 7, London. Reprinted in Zhe
Mind of St. Peter.

‘ Marriage Address,’ in volume of Marriage Addresses, edited by Rev
O. P. Wardell-Yerburgh. 8vo. pp. 3-5, London, 1900.

VOLUMES OF SERMONS

Persecution and Tolerance. 8vo. pp. 140, London, 1895. (Hulsean
Lectures, 1893-4.)

The Heritage of the Spirit. 8vo. pp. 216, London, 1896.

Lessons from the Cross. 8vo. pp. 132, London, 1898.

University and other Sermons. 8vo. pp. 271, London, 1903.

The Mind of St. Peter and other Sermons. 8vo. 192, London, 1904.

INDEX

AcADEMY, THE, i. 145, 146

Academy, The Royal, dinner, ii. 93

Acland, Mr. Arthur, i. 160, 351

Acton, Lord, i. 146, 226, 275, 333,
338; 339, 341, 369, 376, 414 ;
ll. 203-205, 338, 346, 4095, 407

Additional Services, ii. 298-307

Address from Peterborough clergy,
ii. 208

Adler, Dr., ii. 465

£neas Sylvius, i. 147, 331

A€stheticism in Oxford, i. 46

Affirmation Bill, The, i. 262

Agassiz, Dr.,i. 365

Agassiz, Mrs., i. 362

Agricola, i. 329

Albany, Duke of, i. 39, 138, 186, 243

Albert Hall, The, ii. 393-395

Alexander VI., Pope, i. 262, 265, 368,
371; ii. 106

Algeria, ii. 92, 93, 144-146

All Souls’ Day, il. 303

Alleyne, Foster, i. 23, 41

Alleyne, Miss, i. 27

Alnmouth, i. 150

Alnwick, i. 145, 179

Alnwick Union, The, i. 179

American Ambassador, The, ii. 390

American Bishops, ii. 240

* American writers, ii 393

Ancient Mariners, The, i. 52

Anderson, Mrs., i. 96

Andronikoff, Prince, ii. 158

—— Orders, Validity of, ii. 176-
182

Aphorisms, i. 408; ii. 195, 196

Appleton, Dr., i. 129, 146

er 0 Congress at Cambridge,
ii. 7

Archbishop’s Decision, The, ii. 371,
372, 376-379, 380-381, 397

Archbishop’s Hearing, The, ii. 357, 358,
379, 371

Architecture, Fifteenth Century, i. 413

Armenia, ii. 172, 173

Armenians, The, ii. 163

Arnold, Matthew, i. 325

Arnold, Mr. Thomas, i. 40; ii. 478

Arnold, Miss, i. 74; see Mrs. Humphry
Ward.

Asperges, ii. 306, 359 ;

Association of Tutors, The, i. 60

Athanasian Creed, The, ii. 69, 427

Athletics, i. 298

Austria, ii. 163

Australian Delegates, The, ii. 439

BALZAC, i. 123

Balzani, Count, i, 384; ii. 79, 445

Bamborough, i. 149, 176

Baptism, ii. 66, 68

Barbaro, ii. 370

Baring, Bishop, i. 143, 205

Barlow, Rev. Dr., ii. 448

Barlow, Sir Thomas, ii. 464

Barry, Bishop, ii. 264

Bateson, Miss Mary, i. 341

Battenberg, Princess Louis of, ii. 155

Bayard, Mr. Henry, ii. 226, 223,
235 :

Bayreuth, ii. 97

Bazaars, ii. 51

Beam Hall, i. 139

Beaumont, i. 132

Becket, Thomas, i. 319, 382

Bell, Rev. William, i. 4

Bells, The Hugh, i. 200

Benson, Archbishop, ii. 93, 138, 146,
148, 161, 165, sho, 197, 303

Benson, Mrs., i. 275

Benwell Tower, i. 208

Berrington, Mr. Trevor, i. 180

Bettwys-y-Coed, ii. 324

Bevan, Rev. H. E. ii. 266, 448

Biarritz, ii. 456-459

Bigg, Dr., ii, 3, 33: 34, 266, 353,

44

Biographies, Historical, i. 147

Birkbeck, Mr. W. J., ii. 147-149, 1535
155» 158, 237; 448

Birmingham, i. 64, 381; #. 445

524 INDEX

Birr Castle, ii. 77

Bishop Auckland, i. 143, 144

Bishops’ Registries, i ii. 436

ee Spiritual jurisdiction of, ii.
107

Bismarck, Prince, ii. 163, 347, 348

Black Letter Saints’ Days, ii. 306

Blakesley, Chancellor, il. 53-55, 95

Blamire, Miss, i i. 268

Boase, Mr., i. 41

Bolland, Rev. W. E., i. 317, 391; ii. 170

‘ Bondagers,’ i. 155,

Boot Trade, Strike in the, ii, 119-131

Booth, Mr. Alfred, ii. 338

Borgia, Ceesar, i, 26s, 267

Bosanquet, Mr. Charles, i. 175, 203,
212

Bowen, Lord Justice, i. 275

Boyd, C,, i. 20

Boyle, Sir Courtenay, ii. 125-130

Brace, Mr. C. Loring, i. 358, 359

Bradgate Park, ii. 13

Bradlaugh, Mr., i. 262

Bradley, Dr., i. 128

Bradshaw, Henry, i. 349

Bridges, Robert, i. 43, 63, 123, 129
ll. 497

Briennios, Patriarch of Constantinople,
i. 153

Bright, Dr., Master of University, i.
60, 128

British Association, ii. 139

British Museum, The, ii. 220, 221

Brixworth, ii. 105

Brodie, Sir Benjamin, i. 77

Brodrick, Mr. George, i. 50, 222

Brooke, Mr. Stopford, i. 180

Brown, Mr. Harris, ii. 142

Brown, Mr. Horatio, i. 385

Browne, Dr. G. F., ii. 97

Browning, Robert, i. 164 ; ii. 412

Bryce, Rt. Hon. James, i. 41, 333,

338, 341

Bryn Mar, i. 359

Bugbrooke Church, ii. 15

Burd’s, L. A., edition of the Principe,

Burgh, i. 308, 309

Burials, Conduct of, ii. 67

Butler, Dr., i. 311 ; ii. 1

Butler, Mr. Samuel, ii. 83, 84

Byron, i. 329

CairD, Dr. Edward, i. 26, 27, 50,
129, 249

Caister, i. 309

Cambridge, i. 274—277, 297; ii. 2,
141, 320

Cambridge Modern History, ii. 204,

205
Cambridge Review, The, i. 277

Cambridg a ig
Carlisle, rae a 384 ; ii. 99,
169, 171
Carlisle, Bishop of, i ii, I
Carlisle Cath , i. 2, O85
Carlyle, Thomas, i i, 104, 3253 ii. 402
Carmichael, Sir Thomas Gibson, 3 i. 209
Cartmell, , ny kS
Cassiodorus, Letters of, i. 331
Cathedral School, Carlisle, i. 4
Catholic customs, ii. 426
Cattaro, ~~ di, i. 385
ys sa i, 385
— Mr. Joseph, i. 3483 ii.

Chetre. London, i ii, 424, 428
a Primary, ii. 48, 95, 96, 119
Charity Organisation, i. 392
Charteris, Hon. Hugo, i. 209
Cheviots, The, i. 148, 149
Choate, Mr. Joseph, i, 366
Christian Endeavour, The, ii. 443, 444
Christmas at Worcester, i. 397
Christon Bank, i. 155
Church and State, ii. 372, 383, 384,
395» 431-433, 442, 443
hurch Association, Deputation from,
li. 293-294
Church Congress, Birmingham, ii. 84
Church Congress, Carlisle, i. 250
Church Congress, Exeter, i. 3143 ii.

8, 98 s
Church Congress, Folkestone, ii. 79,

114

Church Congress, London, ii. 341,
393-400

Church Congress, Newcastle, i. 212

Church Congress, Norwich, ii. 140, 141

Church Congress, Portsmouth, i, 316

Church Congress, Shrewsbury, ii. 175

Church Congress, Wolverhampton,
383

Church Crisis, ii. 389, 422

Church, Dean, i. 333, 337

Church Defence, ii. 383

Church difficulties, ii. 420, 421

Church Extension Societies, ii. 23, 25

Church Historical Society, The, ii. 97,
98, 142

Church History, Epochs of, i. 345

Church of England, The, ii. 85, 192,
193, 261, 286, 287, 301-304, 314,
339, 376, 378, 395, 396, 411, 427-~
429, 442, 447

Church Reform, i. 349

Church Reform Union, The, i. 221

Church Restoration, ii. 14-17

Church Schools, ii. 47

Church, The National, ii, 174, 384, 443

Churches, Open, ii. 14

Churchill, Lord Rand olph, i. 64, 350

ie ae
FP me

Pea a
eS

a ae he ee

INDEX

Cincinnati, i. 359, 360

Citizen Sunday, ii. 119

Clayton, Canon, ii. 60

Clergy Discipline Act, ii. 452

Clerical Inaccuracies, Paper on, i. 206

ve Problems, ii. 61-69, 274-
293

Clifford, Dr., ii. 464

Clifton, i. 64

Clothworkers, The, ii. 320

Clough, Miss, i. 300

Coastguards, The, i. 154

Cobb, Dr., ii. 289, 290

Colenso, Bishop, i. 44

aay Chapel Sermons, i. 17, 137,
13

College discipline, i. 114

College servants, i. 127

Collins, Rev. W. E., ii. 97, 142

Colonial and Continental Church
Society, ii. 458

Colonial Premiers, The, ii. 240

Communion, Evening, ii. 278

Communion of sick persons, ii, 276

Communion Service, ii. 300, 308, 311

Communities, Religious, ii. 270, 272

Compton, Bishop, ii. 221

Compton, Lord Alwyn, i. 311

Confession, i. 411; ii. 274, 364, 365,
427, 470

Confirmation of Nonconformists, ii. 63,
65

Confirmations, ii. 31, 32

Congregational Union, The, ii. 173, 174

Connaught, Duke of, ii. 154, 155, 159

Connor, Sir N., ii. 149

Constance, Council of, i. 266

Continental chaplaincies, ii. 273, 457

Continuity, ii. 379, 380

Conversation classes, i. 289-293

Convocation, ii. 294-297, 370, 376

Co-operative Congress, The, ii. 321

. Co-operative Societies, ii. 117

Cope, Use of a, ii. 284

Copleston, Dr., Bishop of Calcutta, i.
17, 22, 23, 25, 29, 34-36, 55, 74,
76, 93, 128, 180

Cornwall, i. 81

Corpus Christi, ii. 303

Costa, Signor, i. 150, 200

County Council, The, ii. 316

Covington, Prebendary, ii. 266

Craster, i. 153, 154, 161, 173

Craster, Mr. John, i. 173

Creighton, James, i. 1 ; ii. 169, 328

CREIGHTON, MANDELL:
Addresses to ruri-decanal conferences,

li. 245-248, 314, 315

Addresses to working men, ii. 399
America, Journey to, i. 355-367
Amusements, ii. 71, 72

525

Creighton, Mandell—continued

Architecture, Interest in, i. 340;
li. 14, 139, 466

Begins ‘ History of the Papacy,’ i. 186

Birth, i. 1

Birth of children, i. 133, 139, 185,
188, 200, 259, 381

Bishop of Peterborough, i. 398, 400,
403, 404

Business capacities, ii. 11, 58, 59,
221, 273

Canon of Newcastle, i. 240

Canon of Windsor, i. 396

Canon of Worcester, i. 309

Chairman of the School Attendance
Committee, i. 187

Chairman of the Alnwick Board of
Guardians, i. 203

Character, i. 9, 18, 34-36, 52, 53

Characteristics, i. 129-132, 198, 199,
203, 212, 224, 254, 255, 284,
302 ; ii. 219-221, 228, 229, 479-

500

Charge, London, ii. 425-428

Charge, Primary, ii. 95, 96, 119

Children, Love for, i. 133, 193-195;
ii. 28, 31

Children, Relations with his, i. 257,
303 3 ii. 329-333
hurch views, i. 24-26, 54

Clergy, Relations with, ii. 41-44,
50, 53, 208, 210, 228

College rooms, i. 67, 68

Confirmation, ii. 1, 215

Consecrated Bishop of Peterborough,
ii. I

Conversation, ii. 163, 229, 255, 256,
500-503 .

Correspondence, ii. 274

Dixie Professor, i. 245, 246

Editor of the ‘ Historical Review,’ i.

333-344 } t
Edits, ‘ Epochs of English History,’
i. 182-184; ‘Epochs of Church
History,’ 345
Education, Views on, i.
317, 390
Embleton, First visit to, i. 144-146
Engagement to be married, i. 77
Enthronement in Peterborough
Cathedral, ii. 5
in ne Paul’s Cathedral, ii. 215,
21
Examiner in Law and Modern His-
tory Schools, i. 132, 186
Examiner, Work as, i. 89, 180, rgr,
198, 240, 309, 383
amining Chaplain to the Bishop ot
Newcastle, i. 240; to the Bishop
of Worcester, i. 352, 353
Farewell to Embleton, i. 251-254

168, 243,

526 INDEX ‘
Creighton, Mandell—continued Creighton, Mandell—continued
Farewell to Peterborough, ii. 206, Ler eh inions, i. 200-202, 305-
207, 208; to Worcester, i. 405 | Rie nd ii. 163
Fellowship, i i. 42 His, painted, ii. 143
Friends, i. 17, 20-23, 30-34, 37-39, Fae i, 76, 132, 133, 138,
73> 745 129 16 » 298, 313; ii. 3, 4, 74,

Funeral, ii. 464, 465

Guardian of the Poor, i. 179, 204,
205

Habits, ii. 60, 61, 73, 168, 169,
217-219, 221

= His conception of, i. 279,
2

History teaching, i. 60, 61

Holidays, ii. 168, 169, 241, 242,
249, 324, 391, 444, 445

Illness, ii. 405, 406, 445, 446, 451,
458, 459, 462, 463

Impressions of London, ii. 221-225

Inaugural Lecture as Dixie Professor,
i. 277-282

Interest in art, 1. 73

Interest in Women’s Education, i. 64

Interviews, ii. 219

Lectures, i. 132, 133, I9I, 199,
200, 317-319; ii. 82, I14, 115,
131, 146, 165, 225, 338, 385, 403,
441

Lectures, at Cambridge, i. 275-281,
284-288; at Falmouth and Ply-
mouth, 80-85 ; at Oxford, 62, 63,
64 ; at Worcester, 381, 382, 395;
on the Congregationalists and Bap-
tists, 395, 396

Legal decisions, ii. 273

Life as a parish priest, i. 160-172

Life at Peterborough ii. 9-11, 13

Literary work, ii. 70, 71, 86, 87,
143

London, appointment to, ii, 195

Lords, House of, Speeches in the,
ii. 361, 364

Marriage, 1. 127, 130

New Year’s Message to his clergy, ii.

420
Nonconformists, Relations with, i.
169 ; il. 174
Northumberland, Love for, i. 273
Novel reading, i. 30, 80, 199, 214
Objection to Prosecution, ii. 422
Opinions about his work, ii. 261-
264
Ordination, i. 75, 137
Oxford, Decision to leave, i. 140-143
Papers at Church Congresses, i. 250,

Parochial visiting, i. 165-167, 179

Peterborough, Relations with city of,
ii. 210

Philosophy, Views on, i. 27

Poems, ii. 326

270
Principal of the Postmasters, i, 58
Public Dinners, ii. 226, 227
Publication of * History of the
~— i, 225-232, 368-378;

Pupils, # 180, 181, 209, 2

Relations with his children, i. 257,
303 ; li. 329-333

with clergy, ii. 38-44, 53, 297

with Emmanuel College, i. 295-299
with Newnham Students, i. 299
with pupils, i. 288-295

Ritual opinions, ii. 284, 285

Rural Dean of Alnwick, i. 205, 206

furtogs ee to, ii. 146- 161

Sayings, fi. 503-507

ool wh gc Andl, i. 2-10

Select Preacher at Oxford, i. 180

Sermons, i. 133, 137; 185, 200, 208,
254, 398, ; ii. 15, 74, 78, 80, 85,
91-94, I17, 238, 319, 320, 400,
404, 4

Silver Wedding, i ii. 206

Simon de Montfort, Life of, i. 184

Speaking, After dinner, i ii. 93

Speeches in the House of Lords, ii.
233, 361, 364, 387; at Harvard,
i. 3633 at Carlisle, i. 201; to
working men, ii. 26-28, 85, 98,
114, 115, 117, 118, 381

Speaking, Public, i. 315, 316; ii. 3,

4, 225

Study, Methods of, i. 224, 225

Talk, i. 34-36, 50-55, 292, 296,
297

Tastes, i. 5, 7, 29, 30, 31

Teaching, His, i. 64, 65, 286-292

Travels, i.
188, 198, 199, 210, 211, 213, 214,
249, 350, 379; 380, 384, 385, 392,
393; ll. 74, 79, 92, 135, 139, 144-
146, 242-245, 319, 324, 325-323,
388, 391

Tutorship, i. 42

Undergraduate days, i. 16-43

Views on Church matters, ti. 363,
364, 368; on Natural Science, i.
45, 46; on University reform, i.
47, 48, 61

Visitation, i ii. 95, ye

Walking, i i. 5, 7, 8, 23, 39, 176, 304,
308 ; ii. 13, 14, 325, 445

Worcester, Life at, i. 312, 313, 317,
31

Pg

69-72, 136, 137, 139,

INDEX

Creiyhton, Mandell—continued

Writings, i. 146, 147, 182-184, 189,
190, 239, 383, 384

Creighton, Robert, i. I, 2, 3

Criticism, i, 125, 330, 331

Cromptons, The Henry, i. 129

Cumberland, i. 81

Cunningham, Dr., i. 395, 398

Curates, ii. 37, 267

Curtis, Mr. Martin, i. 365

Da.sus, P., see Portal, Abbé
Dalmatia, i. 384, 385 si
Dante, i. 64, 80, 115, 125, 1393 U.

471

Darwin, Charles, i. 93

Davey, Lord, ii. 339

Davidson, Dr. Randall, ii. 1, see Win-
chester, Bishop of

Deaconesses, St. Andrews, ii. 272

Deceased wife’s sister, Marriage with, ii.
65

Devotional Meeting of Bishops, ii. 138

Diggle, Rev. J. W., i. 65, 89

Dimock, Rev. N., ii. 448

Diocesan Calendar, ii. 52

Diocesan Conference, Durham, i. 207 ;
Leicester, ii. 115 ; London, ii. 236,
262, 287, 368, 369, 389, 428, 429;
Newcastle, i. 242 ; Northampton, ii.
172 ; Peterborough, ii. 78, 139

Diocesan Inspection, ii. 49

Diocesan Magazine, Peterborough, ii.

209
Diocesan Records, ii. 436
Discipline in College, i. 56-58
Disestablishment, il. 95, 347-359, 372-
374, 376, 384, 430, 431
Divorce, ii. 69, 275, 322, 323
Dixie Professorship, The, i. 244, 245
Dollinger, Dr., i. 337
_ Dostoiewsky, ii. 165
Drama, The, ii. 279
Dublin Tercentenary, ii. 77
Duckworth, Sir Dyce, ii. 336
Dufferin, Lord, ii. 317
Dunstanborough, i. 149, 176
Dunster, ii. 441
Durham Cathedral, i. 9
Durham School, i. 5-7, 9
Dutch pictures, i. 104
Dykes, Dr., i. 9

EaFL8, Dr., Bishop of Marlborough,
ii. 264

East Anglian Bishops, Gathering of,
ii. 81, 100, 142

East End, The, ii. 269

East London Church Fund, ii. 435

_—_—_—

527

Ecclesiastical Commission, The, ii.
220

Ecclesiastical Courts, ii. 370, 371

Eaclenen History, i. 279, 281, 285,
31

Economics, London School of, ii. 444

E.C.U., The, ii. 263, 367, 382

Education, i. 382; ti. 46-49, 96, 108,
109, 188, 189, 236

Edinburgh, Duke of, ii. 158

Edward, Prince, ii. 135

Eliot, President, i. 361, 365, 381

Elizabeth, Queen, Life of, ii. 143

Elizabeth, The Age of, i. 147, 285,
288, 290

‘ Elsmere, Robert,’ ii. 1o1r

Ely, i. 304

Embleton, i. 139-142, 144-146, 148-
159, 254, 256; li. 170, 171

Embleton Church, i. 151, 234

Embleton Vicarage, i. 150, 151, 248,
251

Emmanuel College, i. 249, 295-299

Emperor, The German, ii. 404, 405,
417, 418, 464

England, Conversion of, i. 241

English Church, The, ii. 85, 301, 302,

394

English Churches on the Continent, ii.
275, 276

‘English National Character,’ Lecture
on, ii. 166

Entsagung, i. 106-108

Epochs of English History, i. 182

‘ Essays and Reviews,’ i. 44

Esson, Professor, i. 51, 60, 86, 124,
141, 143

Eton, ii. 385

Etruscan tombs, i. 214 ; ii. 79

Exeter Hall Meeting, ii. 313, 314

FALLODON, i. 145, 173, 175, 192; ii.

99
Falmouth, i. 64, 80, 81, 83, 132, 133
Family Life, i. 118, 124
Fasting Communion, ii. 426
Fellowships, Married, i. 78, 79
Fenland, Paper on the, ii. 78
Ferguson, Mr. Johnson, ii. 118
Festing, Dr., Bishop of St. Albans, ii.
81, 142, 230

Festival of the Three Choirs, i. 381,

395

Finland, Archbishop of, ii. 158, 237

Ford, Miss, i. 4

Foreign Service, ii. 39-41

Foresters, The, ii. 279

Forsyth, Mr. P. T. ii. 97

Foster, William, i. 20, 23, 31, 33, 435
§2

528

Fotheringhay, ii. 18

Fowler, Sir Robert, i. 268

Fox, Miss Anna Maria, i. 81

Fox, Mr. Howard, i. 83, 85

Fox, Mr. Robert, i. 81

Franciscan Movement, The, 1. 319

Freeling, Rev. N., i. 51, 76, 139

Freeman, Mr. Edward, i. 244, 336,
339, 351 fy

French Reformed Church, ii. 273

Friars, Lectures on the, ii. 82

Froude, T. A., i. 325, 337

Fulham Church, ii. 216

Fulham Palace, ii. 218, 221

Fund, Bishop of London’s, ii. 268

GARDEN Parties, Fulham, ii. 229

Gardner, Miss Alice, i. 288, 295, 300,
393

Garnett, Dr., i. 262, 344; ii. 165

Gennadius, the Metropolitan, ii. 150,

I =

Gibbon, i. 123

Gilman, President, i. 366

Girgenti, ii. 18

Girton College, i. 299

Gladstone, Rt. Hon. W. E.,i. 47, 267,
305, 306, 341-343, 348, 350, 406 5
li, 321

Gladstone, Miss, i. 299, 300

Glastonbury Abbey, ii. 241

Glehn, Robert von, i. 77

Goddard, Mr., ii. 25

Goethe, i. 80, 104, 106-108, 119

* Goodwill,’ ii. 318

Gore, Dr., i. 389 ; ii. 87, 97

Graglia, ii. 445

Grammar, ii. 316

Gray, Mr. G. T., ii. 59

Greek History, i. 98

Green, J. R., i. 129, 146, 333

Green, Rev. C. E., i. 160, 162, 165

Green, T. H., i. 44, 163, 186, 200

Gressoney, ii. 445

Greville Memoirs, The, i. 339

Grey, Albert, i. 175, 200, 206, 332 ;
now Lord Grey, ii. 134, 141

Grey, Lady, i. 145, 174, 195, 236,
237

Grey, Lord, i. 164, 175, 234

Grey, Sir Edward, i. 176, 202, 209 ;
ii. 99, 103, 141

Grey, Sir George, i. 155, 173, 174,
195, 209, 233-236, 251, 254

‘Grieve, David,’ ii. 101

Grosseteste, Bishop, ii. 142, 416

Grove, George, Sir, i. 147, 161

Gunson, Rev. W., i. 3, 4, 16, 141

Gwatkin, H. M., i. 245, 249, 250,
277

INDEX

HALIFAX, Viscount, ii. 175-177, 429,
459

Hamlyn, Mr. V. C., i. 188

Harcourt, Sir William, ii. 287, 359.
363, 372, 449

Harrisons, The Frederic, i. 129

Harvard, John, i. 249, 361-364

Harvard University, i. 355, 361-367

Haverford University, i. 359

Headlam, Rev. Stewart, ii. 278

Hearing, The Archbishop’s, ii. 357,
358, 370, 371

* Helbeck,’ il. 344, 345

Herbert, Auberon, i. 306

Herring fishery, The, i. 154

Heroes, Lecture on, ii. 338

Hertford House, ii. 441

Heygate, Mr. W. M.,, ii. 4, 12

Hinckley, ii. 18

‘ Hinds,’ The, i. 155-157

Historical Biographies, i. 184

Historical Criticism, i. 330

‘Historical Review,’ The, i. 332-344,
357, 369, 3773 ii. 70, 71

Historical School, The Oxford, i. 60

Historical studies at Cambridge, i, 277,

278

yr Studies, Board of, i. 282,
2

Historical study, ii. 110, 111

Historical Tripos, The, i, 277, 278,
282, 283, 284, 285

History, Continuity of, i. 287

History reading, i. 90

History teaching, ii. 466

History tutorship, i. 42

Hodge, Rev. Grose, ii. 12, §1, 82, 210

Hodgkin, Dr., i. 182, 191, 195-197,
214, 256; ii. 497

Hodgkin, Miss Violet, i. 194

‘Holbein, ii. 459

Holborn Meeting, The, ii. 352-355

Holden, Dr., i. 6, 13; ii. 5, 6

Holden, Mrs., i. 9, 10

Holland, Canon Scott, i. 75, 185, 244 ;
ii. 465

Hood, H. J., i. 38, 39, 71, 79, 142,
180; ii. I

Hood, Mrs., i. 72, 79

Hope, Band of, i. 172

or Dr., i. 249, 297, 349, 399; ii,
3

Howard, George, Earl of Carlisle, i.
200, 201

Howick, i. 175

Hudson, The, t 359

Hull, Canon, ii. 2

a Lectures, The, ii. 90, 91, 92,
37

Hunt, William, i. 149

Hutton Hall, i. 192

INDEX

INCENSE, ii. 285, 313, 359, 377, 380-

383, 423, 452, 454 %s
Indulgences, i. 394, 395 ; ii. 87, 106,
08

I

Inglesant, John, i. 337

Inquisition, The, ii, 422

Irreverence, ii. 27

Irthlingborough, ii. 16

Italy, Journeys to, i. 135-137 ; ii. 79,
83, 135, 242, 324, 392

Ivrea, ii. 244, 392

JAMESON, Dr., ii. 134
Jebb, Lady, ii. 91
Jeune, Bishop, ii. 10
Job, Book of, i. 269, 271
ohn, Father, of Cronstadt, ii. 157
pew Pas Arthur, i. 128
ohnston, Rev. W. Murdoch, ii. 266
lout Rev. B., i. 21, 42, 44, 48, 61,
121, 128
Jubilee, The, i. 379; ii. 230, 236-240

KEBLE, Warden of, ii. 141
Kempe, Mr. C. E., ii. 6
Kennaway, Sir John, ii. 447, 448
Kensit, Mr., ii. 215, 287, 295, 424
Keswick, ii. 171

Ketton Home, The, ii. 51

Kieff, Metropolitan of, ii. 152, 153
Kinnaird, Lord, ii. 361

Kireief, General, ii. 237
Kirkandrews, i. 80, 81

Knighton Fields, ii. 214

Knox, Dr., i. 63

Kolde, Professor, ii. 88-90

LAACH, ii. 75-77

Labouchere, Mr., ii. 110, 123-125

Laing, Robert, i. 128

Lambeth Conference, ii. 240

Land Tenure in Northumberland, i, 237

Lang, Mr. Andrew, i. 73, 128, 180,
200, 250

Laud, Archbishop, ii. 335

Law and Modern History School, i. 39,
41, 42

Lay readers, ii. 49, 50, 442

Lea, Mr. H. W. i. 341, 359, 409

Lee, Mr. Harry, ii. 273

Legge, Hon. and Rev. A,, i. 127

Leicester, ii. 10, 12, 23-25, 28-31,
47, 50, 82, 100, 113-116, 119, 245,
3°7, 314

* Leisure Hour,’ The, ii. 71

Leo X., Pope, ii. 107

Leo XIII., Pope, ii. 176, 178-180,
182, 183, 206

nardo, i. 92, 119, 12
VOL. iL whit

529

Leopold, Prince, see Albany, Duke of
* Lessons from the Cross,’ ii. 319
LETTERS FROM:
Acton, Lord, i. 228, 339, 369, 3713
ii. 203-205
Alderson, Rev. Canon, ii. 198
Benson, Archbishop, ii. 146
Brown, Mr. Horatio, i. 232
Bryce, Dr., i. 232
Carlisle, The Earl of,,i. 232
Foster, W., i. 31
Gardner, Miss Alice, i. 403
Grey, Mr. Albert, i. 247
Gwatkin, Mr. H. M., i. 245
Holland, Rev. Canon Scott, ii. 198
Hull, Rev. Canon, ii. 199
Labouchere, Mr. H.., ii. 199
Lawrance, Rev. J. T., ii. 199
Merton Undergraduates, The, i. 142
Pobiedonostzeff, M., ii. 161
Prothero, Mr. G. W., i. 402
Queen, The, ii. 164
Rogers, Dr. Guinness, ii. 198
Rutland, Duke of, ii. 199
Salisbury, Lord, ii. 197
Schechter, Dr., i. 402
Stubbs, Dr., i. 243
Talbot, Dr., Bishop of Rochester, ii.
198
Temple, Dr., Archbishop of Canter-
bury, ii. 465
Ward, Mrs. T. H., i. 247
Winchester, Bishop of, ii. 147, 197
LETTERS TO:
A. B., i. 268, 321-324
Acton, Lord, i. 227, 334, 335, 370,
372-375
Adderley, Hon. and Rev. J., ii. 312
Ainger, Canon, ii. 270, 283
Aldridge, Mrs., ii. 440, 444
Alleyne, Miss, i. 27
Anonymous, ii. 182, 194, 195, 207,
222, 253, 267, 270, 271, 272, 284,
285, 291, 316, 359, 360, 366,
382, 423, 470
Archdeacons, ii. 456
Baker, Rev. R. S., ii. 105
Balzani, Count, i. 393, 401; ii. 19,
79, 169, 201, 433, 434, 437, 469
Barker, Canon, ii. 433, 434
Barlow, Miss Alice, i. 416
Barrett, Miss Constance, ii. 184,
- _ 225, 467
Bateson, Miss Mary, i. 394, 408,
4133 ii. 406
Bell, Rev. G. C., ii. 7, 108, 183,
188, 190
Bell, Miss Helen, ii. ro9
Bell, Miss Mary, ii. 400, 461
Benham, Rev. Canon, ii. 251
Benson, Archbishop, ii. 69, 176

MM

53°

Letters to—continued

Bickersteth, Mr. Robert, ii. 379, 380
Birkbeck, Mr. W. J., ii. 179, 181,

302, 356 5
Blakesley, Mr. G. H., ii. 95
Bolland, Rev. W. E., i. 391 5 ii. 170,

171
Boyd, Rev. F. L., ii. 431, 432
Boyle, Sir Courtenay, ii. 127-129
Brace, Mr. C. L., i. 360, 415

Bridges, Robert, i. 71, 412; ii. 105,

137

Brown, Dr. G. F., Bishop of Step-
ney, ii. 215

Brown, Miss Ethel, i. 397, 409

Brown, Mr. Horatio, ii. 104

Browning, Mr. Oscar, i. 183, 191,
244, 248

Carnegie, Rev. J. D., ii. 335

Carnegie, Rev. W. H., ii. 104

C. D., ii. 255-257, 387, 324-328,
343) 394, 397; 406, 407, 408, 418

Cecil, Hon. Evelyn, ii. 248

Churchill, Lord Edward, ii. 453

Clergy, ii. 39-44, 50, 57, 65-69,
274, 275, 277; 278, 280, 281-283,
294, 298, 365, 377, 420, 446

Cobb, Dr., ii. 372-375, 430

Collins, Rev. W., ii. 180, 181, 341,
358, 370 :

Colombo, Bishop of, ii. 202, 259

Copleston, Dr., i. 178, 221, 401 ; see

lombo, Bishop of

Creighton, Basil, ii. 317, 348, 385,

60

4

Creighton, Beatrice, ii. 324, 392,
401, 417, 418

Creighton, Cuthbert, ii. 242, 325,
386, 387, 390

Creighton, Ella, ii. 214, 233, 235,
404, 406, 445, 446

Creighton, Louise, ii,143, 236, 240,
244, 260-262, 379 380

Creighton, Lucia, ii. 83, 110, III,
134, 135, 144

Creighton, M. E., 177, 234, 268,
349, 350 i

Creighton, Walter, ii. 99, 140, 142,
328, 407

Creighton, Winifred, ii. 100, 203,
216, 221, 223, 242, 251, 255,
348, 388, 403, 404, 405, 445, 459

Cruttwell, Rev. C. T., i. 177, 178 3
ii. 411

Dawson, Rev. W. F., ii. 249

Devine, Mr. A., ii. 467

Drury, The Rev. T. W., ii. 468

Dunn, Rev. T. C., i. 241

Eardley-Wilmot, Rev. Prebendary, |

ii. 476
E. F., i. 409, 411, 415

INDEX ‘

Letters to—continued

Field, Rev. T., ii. 277

Figgis, Mr. T. N., i. 414

Finch, Mr. W. G., ii. 282

Fitzroy, Miss Lilian, ii. 207

Fleming, Rev. Canon, ii, 308

Gardner, Miss Alice, i. 289, 409;
ii. 22, 186

Garnett, Dr., ii. 89, 90, 165, 166,

343

Garfit, Mr. T. Cheney, ii. 356

Gedge, Rev. H., ii. 29

G. H., ii. 252, 254, 344, 390, 391,
394, 409, 410, 468, 471

Gladstone, Miss, i. 299

Gladstone, Rt. Hon. W. E., i. 342

Gledstone, Rev. J. P., ii. 475

Giehn, Mrs. von, i. 130

Glehn, Louise von, 76, 78, 79, 81-
89, 90-126

Glyn, The Lady Mary, ii. 462

Goddard, Miss Margaret, ii. 249

* Goodwill,’ Editor of, ii. 318

Gosse, Mr. Edmund, ii. 110, 111

Green, Mrs. J. R., i. 238, 263, 266,
267, 330 ; ii. 92, 107

Grey, Mr. Albert, i. 221, 262,
346

Grey, Sir Edward, i. 202, 203, 305-
308, 346, 347, 350, 385, 408

Grey, Sir George, i. 209

Grey, Lady, i. 236 ;ii. 103, 222, 239-
242, 342, 401

Gwatkin, Mr. H. M., i. 245, 249,
276, 309 ; ii. 469

a Viscount, ii. 48, 176, 177,
155

Hall, Rev. H. E., ii. 300, 302, 312,

350
Harcourt, Sir William, ii. 449
Harrison, Mr. H. S., ii. 349
Hassard, Rev. R. S., ii. 304
Haweis, Rev. H. R., ii. 202
Hocking, Rev. W. J., ii. 473
Hodge, Rev. E. Grose, ii. 43, 61, 261
Hodgkin, Dr., i. 197, 229, 231, 237,

a“ 263, 265, 268, 308, 329, 331,

34
Holland, Canon Scott, ii. 194, 201
Holmes, Rev. W. P., ii. 466
Horsfall, Mr. T. E., ii. 334
Hull, Rev. Canon, ii. 201
Hutton, Rev. A. W., ii. 411
James, Rev. A. O., ii. 43
Jebb, Mr., i. 65
Jessopp, Dr., ii. 140
Kennaway, Sir John, ii. 447
Kensit, Mr., ii. 288, 291, 294, 312
Knox, Rev. E. A., ii. 63-65
Kolde, Professor, ii. 88
Lacey, Rev. T. A., ii. 183

INDEX

Letters to—continued

Lea, Mr. H. C., i. 377, 414; ii. 87,

92

Lee, Mr. Harry, ii. 452

Leney, Rev. L., ii. 17

Lilford, Clementina Lady, ii. 167,
206

Lilly, Mr. W. S., i. 407, 410, 412;
ii. 106, 108, 184, 193, 468, 469
Linklater, Rev. Ri, ti S8
Longman, Mr. C. J., i. 182, 183,
189, 190, 233, 334, 338, 339, 341-
3453 ii. 70, _ gI
raine, Rev. N., ii. 352
Lyttelton, Hon. and Rev. A. T., ii.

347

McArthur, Dr., Bishop of Bombay,
ii. 367

MacColl, Rev. Canon, ii. 476

McCormick, Canon, ii. 265, 301

Melville, Canon, ii. §, 300

Mitchinson, Bishop, ii. 48, 59, 103

Nieces, ii. 412, 413, 415, 437-
441

Nixon, W. A., i. 8, 15

Norwich, Bishop of, ii. 189

Oelsner, Mr. H., ii. 471

Oldroyd, Rev. A. E., ii. 46, 142

Oliver, Rev. W. E., ii. 307

Orford, Rev. H., ii. 115, 129, 205

Pease, Mr. A. E., i. 181, 215-219,
2303 li. 475 i

Pease, Mr. Howard, ii.
225

Pease, Mr. J. W., i. 273, 401

Pease, Miss Ella, i. 192, 193, 220,
3293 i. 473

Percival, Rev. L. J., ii. 216

Phear, Dr., i. 355-362

Phillips, Mr. Alison, ii. 187

Pobiedonostzeff, M., ii. 250

Poole, Mr. R. L., ii. 70, 283, 334,
337, 338, 349, 343, 369-370, 376,
401

Porter, Rev. A. S., i. 413

Potter, C. A., i. 28, 30, 40-43; ii.

20, 224,

20
Powell, Mr. York, i. 333
Pupils, i. 219, 293, 294, 4113 ii.

53}.

Letters to—continued

Salisbury, Bishop of, ii. 180

Salisbury, Lord, ii. 231

Short, Rev. S., ii. 16

Sidgwick, Professor H., ii. 186, 346

Sinclair, Archdeacon, i ii, 265

Smith, Mr. T. K., il. 45

Statham, Mr. ys ii. 349

Stern, Rev. Aide) yt Pa

Stevenson, F. S., 416

Stocks, Rev. Canon, ii. 29-31, 38,
42, 47, 50, 58, 68, 120, 129, 133

Suckling, Rev. R. A. J-, i. 304,

395

Talbot, Kev. E., i. 400(see Rochester,
Bishop of)

Taylor, Mr. John J., ii. 333, 334

Temple, Dr., Archbishop of Canter-
bury, ii. 371

Terry, Mr. J., ii. 260

Thomas, Professor, i. 365, 402

Thursfield, Mr. J. R., i. 134, 220,
400 ; ii. 172

Thursfield, Mrs. J. R., i. 247, 320,
35°

Trevelyan,
355

Ward, Miss Gertrude, ii. 234

Ward, Mrs. T. H., ii. 101, 200, 344,

345, 444, 471, 474, 478
Watson, Canon, ii. 40, 42, 45, 52,

Rev. W. B., ii. 354,

183
Westall, Rev. H., ii. 423, 424
Widdrington, Miss Dorothy, i. 274,

275
Wigg, Rev. S. W., ii, 46, 47, 52
Wilberforce, Dr., Bishop of New-
castle, i. 246, 251, 353
Wilkinson, Bishop, li. 275,
457
Williams, Rev. Alan, ii. 41
Wilson, Rev. H., ii. 382
Wilson, Rev. Robert, i. 247
Winchester, Bishop of, ii. 147, 435,
453-455, 462
Winnington-Ingram, Dr., Bishop of
Stepney, ii. 310
Villiers, Prebendary, ii. 353, 354
Yates, Canon, ii. 32

276,

Letter-writing, i. 329

Levens Hall, ii. 234

Liberal Party, The, ii. 342

Liberty, i. 112; ii. 27, 192, 259, 320,
331, 342, 345, 400

Library, The Cambridge, i. 303

Library in Peterborough Palace, ii. 7

Lichfield, Bishop of, il. 1

Liddon, Dr., i. 47, 122

Lightfoot, Archdeacon, i. 58

Lightfoot, Dr., Bishop of Durham, i.
205, 207, 208, 212, 337

25, 26, 30, 32, 33, 34, 52, 68,
69, 71
Richardson, Mr. Wigham, ii- 131
Robinson, Rev. Canon Armitage, ii.

454
Rochester, Bishop ot, ii. 251, 351
Rogers, Dr. Guinness, i ii. 200, 472
Roundell, Charles, Mr., ii. 190, 192
Rowsell, Rev. —, ii. 252

21, 102
Raikes T., 1.20), at, 23, 22,
Rural Deans, ii. 376

532 INDEX

of, i. 109, 112
Lincoln, Bishop - ii. 68, 134
Lincoln, Rector of, i. 117
Little, Canon Knox, i. er 3
Liverpool Athenzeum, The, ii. 338
Llanfairfechan, ii. 391

Local Customs, i. 171, 172

Local Examinations, i. 49

Local Records, ii. 436, 437

London House, ii. 218, 219, 221, 225,

317

London Reform Union, The, ii. 119,
403

London University Commission, The, ii.
339 340

poy eas py. 8475 333

Lo Me. C. Jes i. 224

Lords, Howie of, il. 387, 407

Lougborough Liberal Club, ii. 117

Lowell, Mr. James, i. 249, 361, 363

Lowry, Rev. H. C. >i. 4

Lucerne, Lake of, ii. 388, 389

Luther, Martin, ‘i. 86, 88, 89, 267

Lymington, Lord, i. 209

Lyttelton, Hon. and Rev. A. T., i.
3493 ii. 12, 33-35, 99, 266

MacDonneglL, Sir Schomberg, ii. 162
Mackarness, Dr., Bishop of Oxford, i, 75
Macmillan’s Magazine, i. 145, 147
Mafeking, ii. 441

Magee, Dr., i. 398; ii. 3-5, 32, 36
Mahommedans, The, ii. 343

Maine, Sir Henry, i. 128, 275, 306,

349

Maladie du Sidcle, The, i. 326

* Manchester Guardian,’ The, i. 123,
146

Manchester and Sheffield Railway, ii.

133 i
Mandell, Sarah, i. 1, 2, §
Mandells, The, i. 2
Market Harborough, ii. 47
Marlborough College, i. 80, 303
Marriage, li. 324
Marriage laws, The, ii. 172
Marriage questions, ii. 68, 69
Married Fellowship, i. 85-87
-Marsham, Dr., Warden of Merton
College, i. 17, 20
Martineau, Dr., ii. 472
Mary-le-Bow, St., ii. 1
Mashonaland, Dr. Knight
Bishop of, ii. 51
Mason, Canon, ii. 97
Mass, The term, ti. 426
Mayflower, Log of the, ii. 230-232
Melville, Canon, i, 310-313, 3533
ii. 5

Bruce,

Windows in Embleton
Church, i. 234 235
Mendicants, Rive of the, i. 285, 287

Memorial

Merton 1, i. 24, 66, 129

Merton College, i. 16, 17, 50, 51, 56,
57, 142, I

Merton Undergraduates, The, i. 142,
143, 147

Merton, Walter de, i. 148
Mestchertsky, The 'Princess, ii. 155
Meyer, Mr. F. B., ii. 464, 465
Middlemarch, i. 127
Middleton, Professor, i i. 303
Midland Institute, The, ii. 385
Mill, John Stuart, i. 27, 49
Mission at Northampton, i ii. 26
Missions, ii. 50

Missions, Foreign, ii. 446, 447
Missions, School, ii. 278
Mitchinson, Bishop, ii. 59
Mommsen, Professor, i i. 329
Monte Casino, ii. 135

More, Sir Thomas, ii. 184, 193
Morley, Mr. John, i. 250
Morris, William, i. 93
Moscow Coronation, ii. 146-161
Moule, Professor, ii. 448
Mozley, Dr., i. 128

Miiller, Professor Max, i. 128
Municipal Churches, ii. 446
Music, Church, i. 315

NATIONAL Portrait Gallery, ii. 220

Natural History Museum, The, ii. 220

Navvy Mission, ii, 133, 134

Newbolt, Canon, ii. 50, 448

New Testament Criticism, i. 330, 331

Newcastle, i. 148; ii. 99

Newcastle, See of, i. 208

Newcastle Diocesan Calendar, i. 240

Newcastle Diocesan Conference, i. 242

Newcastle Diocesan Society, i. 243

Newnham College, i. 288, 289, 295,
299, 300; ii. 22, I10

Newnham Students, i. 341

Newton-by-the Sea, i. 153, 154, 197

Newtown Linford, ii. 13

Niagara, i. 359

Nixon, W. A., i. 8

Nonconformists, Relations with, ii. 63,
280, 282, 283

Norba, i. 213

Norfolk, i. 308

Normandy, ii. 139

North Evington, ii. 214

Northampton, ii. 10, 12, 23, 26, 113,
114, 119, 207

wie eget Trades Council, ii, 124,

125
Northborough, ii. 17

pa) Sg een a SO

ee

INDEX

Northcote, Sir Stafford, i. 23
Northumberland, i. 151, 310; ii. 141
Northumberland, History of, i. 239
Northumbrian characteristics, i. 157
Northumbrian dialect, The, i. 157
——- friends, Present from,

273
i Mr. Charles Eliot, i, 249,

357, 360, 361, 363
Novels, i. 120, 121, 1263 ii. 20, 496

ODDFELLOws, The, ii. 117
ym Rev. A. P., ii, 45

liphant, Lawrence, i. 265

er of Divine Com;assion, ii, 272
ee bi i. 275, 353) 3543; ii. 5»

32-37, 265-267

‘ Origin of Species,’ The, i. 45
Ornaments Rubric, The, ii. 313, 379,

431
Osnaburgh Street Conference, ii. 296
Oxford, i. 16, 44, 47-49; ii. 97

PALMER, Archdeacon, i. 137
Pan-African Conference, The, ii. 444
Pan-Anglican Conference, The, ii. 240
Papacy, History of the, i. 190, 222-
232, 345) 354s 368-378; ii. 71, 86-

go

Papillon, Mr. T. L., i. 51, §2

Paravicini, Mr., i. 16

Parker, Dr., ii. 464, 465

Parnell, Mr., i. 350

Parochial visiting, i. 165-167

Pastoral, Creighton’s School, i. 10-
15

Pater, Walter, i. 46, 93, 128; ii. 111,
112:

Patronage, ii. 265

Pattison, Mark, i. 48, 62, 135, 143

Pauli, i. 264

Peace Meeting, ii. 336, 337

Pease, Miss Ella, i. 188

Pease, Mr. Alfred, i. 180, 347; ii.
93

Pease, Mr. J. W., i. 182, 195, 208

Pease, Sir Joseph, i. 187 ; ii. 495

Peases, The Howard, ii. 390

Peel Towers, i. 151

Peile, Dr., Master of Christ’s College,
ii, OI

Pember, Mr. and Mrs. G., i. 129

Pendower, i. 192

Penitentiary Association, Worcester, i.

315
Peploe, Preb. Webb, ii. 448
Percival, Rev. L, J., ii, 217, 218
Persecution, i ii. 362, 450
Personality, ii. 212

Peterborough Palace, ii.

533

Peterborough, ii. 4-9, 207, 210
Peterborough Cathedral, ii. 8, 9, 94,

337» 338
Peterborough Chapter Library, ii. 9

Peterborough, Dean of, ii. 429
Peterborough, Diocese ‘of, ii. 23.
,

entertainments at, 71, 72, 73, 74

Petrarch, i.

Phear, Dr. +s l. 297, 355

Phillips, Mr. Faudel, 1i. 216

Phillips, Rev. S., ii. 97

Philpott, Dr., Bishop of Worcester, i.
352, 399

‘ Picturesque in History,’ The, ii. 225

Pienza, i. 210

Plato, i. 113

Plummer, Dr., i. 345

Plymouth, i. 80, 81, 83

Pobiedonostzeff, M., ii. 149, 150, 153,
155, 156, 160, 161

Pole, Cardinal, i. 287

Poole, Mr. R. L., i. 333

Poor Law Conference, i. 187

Porcelli, Colonel, ii. 452

Portal, Abbé, ii. 176, 177

Porter, Sir Alfred de Bock, ii. 220

Portinscale, ii. 444

Potter, C. A., i. 28, 30

Poverty of the clergy, ii. 44-46

Powell, Mr. York, i. 183, 333

Prayer, ii. 414

Prayers for the Dead, ii. 435

Preaching, ii. 283, 389, 390

Presbyterians, i. 169, 170

ps of Corruption Bill, ii. 387,
3

Price, Professor Bonamy, i. 128

Primers, First shilling, i. 146

Prince Consort Prize, i. 283

Professor, Work of a, i. 61, 62, 281,
283

Professorship, Regius, at Oxford, i.
243

Progress, ii. 255

Prosecution, ii. 452-455

Prothero, Mr. G. W., i. 277, 282

Public Morality, Council for Promotion
of, ii. 386

Pusey, Dr., i. 44, 45, 47

73

QUADRILATERAL, The, i. 20, 40, 43

Queen, The, ii. 100, IOI, 155, 159,
164, 215, 239, 338, 493-405, 409,
439) 441, 464

Rast, The Chief, ii. 386, 464
Raikes, R. T., i. 20-26, 32, 33, 40,
73, 89

534

Rechabites, The, ii. 67
Rede Lecture, The, ii. 137, 165
Reformation, The, i. 250; ii. 380,

425, 430 2 a

Religious Education, ii. 46-49, 248,
249, 333-335

Renan, i. 1

Requiem Masses, ii. 303, 306
a Sah The Endowment of, i. 61,
2

Reservation, ii. 310-313, 352, 359

‘ Revue Historique,’ The, i. 339

Richmond Park, ii. 446, 459

Ricketts, Mr. Compton, ii. 385

Ridgeway, Dr., Bishop of Kensington,
ii. 264

Ritual difficulties, ii. 55-57, 284-310

Rivington, Messrs., i. 147

Robertson, Rev. Dr., ii. 448

Robertson, Mr. George, i. 175, 179,
252

Robinson, Rev. Canon, ii. 448, 451

Rochester, Bishop of, ii. 165, 230,
333) 443) 496,

Rome, 1. 213, 2143 il. 135

Rome, Church of, ii. 349, 375

Roman Claims, ii. 183

Roman History Primer, i. 146

Roman Priest, Admission of a, to
Anglican Church, ii. 66

Roman terminology, ii. 294, 296

Roman Wall, The, i. 196, 329

Romanes Lecture, The, ii. 165, 166

* Romola,’ i. 126

Rose, Rev. A., i. 296, 304, 356

Rosebery, Lord, ii. 465

Rosse, Lord and Lady, ii. 77

Round Table Conference, The, ii. 428,
429, 447-451

Roundell, Mr. C. S., i. 50

Rousseau’s Confessions, i. 101

Rubric, The Ornaments, ii. 356

Ruskin, John, i. 105, 128, 325

Ruspini, Mrs., ii. 272

Russia, ii. 385

Russia, The Emperor of, ii. 152, 153,
156-159, 336

Russia, Relations of, with England, ii.
161-163

Russian Church, The, ii. 161, 162, 175,
237, 473

Rural Deans, Conference of, ii. 74, 84

Rural Deaneries, ii. 446

Ruri-decanal Conferences, ii. §9

Ryle, Professor, ii. 448

SABLER, Mr., ii. 154

Sacerdotal Pretensions, ii. 191

Saintsbury, G., i. 17, 21, 23, 29, 30,
129, 222

a an ae

INDEX

St. Alban’s, Holborn, ii. 304-306

St. Andrew’s Deaconess House, ii.
272

St. Augustine, ii. 252

St. Cuthbert’s, Philbeach Gardens, ii.
291

St. Dominic, i. 288

St. Edmund’s, Northampton, ii. 16

St. Ethelburga’s, ii, 288-291

St. Francis, i. 103, 288

St. Gabriel’s, Willesden, ii. 270

. Hilda’s Church, ii. 3

. Hilda’s Settlement, ii. 319

. James’s Church, Leicester, ii. 25
James’s, Piccadilly, ii. 248

. Luke, Guild of, ii. 336

. Martin’s, Leicester, ii. 115, 116

. Mary-le-Bow, ii. 215

. Paul, i. 103

. Paul’s Cathedral, ii. 215, 236, 237,

400

St. Stephen’s, Westbourne Park, ii. 249

Salisbury, Lord, i. 267, 340, 396, 398,
399 ; li. 147

Sand, George, i. 80, 102, 126, 184

Sanday, Rev. Professor, ii. 448

Sandringham, ii. 134, 135, 404, 405,417

Sanitscheff, M., ii. 150

Sargent, Rev. H. W., i. 24

‘ Saturday Review,’ The, i. 96

Saunders, Mr. Bailey, ii. 339

Savonarola, ii. 442

Savory, Sir William, i, 63

Sayce, Professor, ii. 200

Scepticism, ii. 408

Schools, Public, ii. 183

Schoolboard Election, ii. 248

Schooldays, i. 5-15

Science and Faith, Paper on, ii. 84, 85

Scott, Mr. C. P., i. 89, 129

Seeley, Professor, i. 277, 278, 282, 286,
291, 336, 339; ii. 138

Selwyn College, ii. 141

Sergius, The Grand Duke, ii. 156

Services, Additional, ii. 298-307

Services, Daily, i. 161

Services, ener ge ii. 300, 351, 359

Services, Special, ii. 31

Sévigné, Madame de, i. 330

Sforza, Bona, ii. 106

Shadwell, Mr. C. L. 50, 51

Shakespeare, William, i. 119, 120, 125;
ii. 260

Shakespeare Readings, i. 191

Shilling History, The, i. 189, 190

Shires, Articles on the English, ii. 71

Shirley, W. W., i. 21

Shoe industry, The, ii. 23

Sicily,i i. 18, 19

Sitwell, Sir George, i. 209

Sixtus IV., i. 371, 374

INDEX

Smith, Mr. George, ii. 440

Smith, Mr. Goldwin, i. 61

Smith, Mr P. V., ii. 448

Smith, Professor Henry, i. 128

Social and Political Education League,
ii. 338

Pe i. 110, I21, 124, 128, 323

Somerset, Lady Henry, ii. 226

Spain, i. 393, 394

Spanish Inquisition, The, i. 371, 374

Spence, Mr., i. 170

Spencer, Herbert, i, 49

Staal, M. de, ii. 148

Stamford, Earl of, ii. 369, 448

Stanley, Dean, i. 92

Stanton, Canon, i. 349

Steel, Mrs., ii. 226

Stepney, Bishop of, ii. 376

Stewart, Hon. Fitzroy, i. 209

Stocks, Canon, ii. 113, 120, 210

Strasnoy, Convent of, ii. 154

Streatfeild, Rev. W. C., i. 164

Stubbs, Bishop, i. 10, 41, 60, 61, 128,
186, 243, 3373; ii. 10

Suckling, Rev. R. A. J., ii. 304~306

Suffragan Bishops, ii. 264, 347

Sunday Newspapers, ii. 387

Supplementary Epistles and Gospels,
ii, 303

Symonds, Mr. J. A., i. 376; ii. go

Sympathy, i. 101, 114, 116, 120

Syndicates, Cambridge, i. 303

Syracusa, ii. 18

TAINE, M. H., i. 98, 99

Talbot, Dr.,i. 51,180; see Rochester,
Bishop of.

Talbot, Mrs., i. 222

Tanner, Mr. J. R., 1. 291

Taormina, ii. 18

Tasso, i. 268

Teaching, ii. 185

Temper, The ecclesiastical, ii. 264

Temperance Meetings, li. 51

Temperance Society, Church of Eng-
land, i. 172

Temple, Dr., Archbishop of Canterbury,
ii. 51, 180, 197, 227, 286, 288, 295,
465, 491 i

Temple Church, The, ii. 74

Tennyson, i. 123, 164

Thackeray, i. 114, 120

Thicknesse, Dr., Bishop of Leicester
ii. 59, 131

Thirlwall Prize, i. 283

Thomas, Professor, i. 359

Thorpe, Archdeacon, i. 6

Thorpe, Mrs. i, 180

Three Hours’ Service at Worcester, i.
397 ; in St. Paul’s Cathedral, ii. 319

535

Thursfield, Mr. J. R., i. 56. 73, 200,
214, 215, 250

‘Times,’ The, i. 365

Titian, i. 125

Tlemgen, ii. 145

Toleration, ii. 293

Topley, Mr., i. 176

Townships, Northumbrian, i. 239

Toynbee Hall, ii. 8, 74, 224, 226

Toynbee Travellers’ Club, ii. 229

Transubstantiation, i. 415

‘ Tressady, Sir George,’ ii. 200

Trevelyan, Sir Charles, i. 176

Troitsa Monastery, The, ii. 160

Truro, Bishop of, ii. 99

Tudors, The, i. 288

Tudor, Mary, i. 287

Tuke, Dr., 1. 81

bee: Dr., Bishop of Islington, ii
264

ULLESWATER, ii. 241

Unbelief, i. 112

Undenoimnational Christianity, ii. 191

Undenominationalism, ii. 245-247

Undergraduates, i. 297, 298

Uniformity, Act of, ii. 371

Unity, ii. 259, 396, 397, 427

Universities, German, i. 134

University Commission, i. 47

University Extension, Lecturing, i.
293, 380

University Reform, i. 47, 48, 134

University Tests, i, 47

VAL D’AOSTA, ii. 392

Varallo, i. 210

Vaughan, Canon, ii. 130
Vaughan, Cardinal, ii. 177, 341
Venice, ii. 104

| Verrall, Dr., i. 301, 302
| Vestry, The, ii. 183
_ Veto, The Bishops’, ii. 452-456

_ Visiting Committee, The Bishop’s, ii.

386, 387
Visitor, Office of, ii. 270, 271
Viterbo, ii. 79
Vittorio Emanuele, i. 188
Voluntary Schools, ii. 46, 47, 419

Voluntary Schools Act, ii. 232, 233
* Voluntary Schools Union, ii. 333

Wack, Rev. Dr., ii. 448

Wade, Sir Thomas, i. 400

Wafer, Use of, in Holy Communion.
ii. 282

Wagner, Richard, ii. 97, 461

536

Wakeman, Mr. Offley, ii. 7, 23

Wales, Prince of, ii. 134, 148, 235,
237, 239, 418
ales, Princess of, ii. 100

Wallace, Mr. W., i. 86, 124

Wantage Sisters, ii. 51

War, The South African, ii. 401--406,
418, 420, 460

Ward, Dr. A. W., i. 333

Ward, Mr., Head of the Masters’
Federation, Leicester, ii. 123-125

Ward, Mr. T. H., i. 77, 128

Ward, Mrs. T. H., i. 40, 200; ii. 1,
234

Ware, Professor, i. 358

Warner, Mr. Townsend, i. 304

Webb, Mr. and Mrs. Sidney, ii. 226,

444
Webb Peploe, Prebendary, ii. 429
Wells, Bishop of Bath and, ii. 241
Welsh Disestablishment, ii. 139
Welsh Suspensory Bill, ii. 82, 95
Westcott, Dr., Bishop of Durham, i.

414; ii. 139
Westminster Abbey, ii. 1

Westminster Gazette,’ The, ii. 320,

339
Whit Club, College, i. 23
Wiclif, John, i. 319
Wilberforce, Dr., Bishop of Newcastle,
i. 240
Wilkins, Mr. H. M., i. 51, 59, 89
Wilkinson, Bishop, ii. 151, 273, 457

INDEX aa ae

Wilkinson, Pre y, i. 186
Williams, Mr. T. O., 1. 197
Wilson, Mr. Robert, i. 58, 59, 66,
127, 128, 250; ii. 251
Wimbledon Common, ii. 221
Winchester, Bishop of, ii. 146, 324,
361, 490
Windsor, ii. 100, 101, 164, 403, 405
Wine, Use of Unfermented, ii. 61, 62,
280, 281
Winsor, Mr. Justin, i. 341, 365
Wolvercot, i. 76
Wolsey, Cardinal, i. 383
Women’s degrees, ii. 186
Women, position of, i. 96, 97, 99
Wood, Canon, i. 310, 311
Woodman, Mr., i. 238
Woods, Rev. H. G., i. 73, 128
Worcester, i. 312, 315, 3173 ii. 11
Worcester, Canonry of, i. 309, 310,
312
Worcester Cathedral, i. 310, 311, 313
Chapter, The, i. 310, 311, 314
Improvements at, i. 389
Schools at, i. 389-391
Students’ Association, i. 392
‘Worcester Herald,’ Letter to the, i

390 ;
Wreck of the ‘ Padre Stefano,’ i. 197

YATEs, Canon, ii. 32
York, Duke of, ii. 135

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