ii iibiWi'iailiL'r^iii ^fe. 'ili'iiUtiUiin' ■ ■ CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY Alice M. Christian Memorial Book Fund Cornell University Library The original of tliis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924010368201 Olm RANDOM RECOLLECTIONS Random Recollections ' of Some Noted Bishops, Divines and Worthies of the 'Old Church' of ManchesteHj By the Rev. George Huntington, M.A. Author of ^John Brown the Cordwainer ^ Antohio^a^ky of an Almsbag^ Etc. etc. FORSAN ET HyEC OLIM iVIElVlINISSE JUVABIT .'.WV II (. "'I London : Griffith Farran & Co. ., ^\^' (■'. (.>> .•...'"'''< / "J'llVU^ ''*''' <-\s Wf,, 'Ml. ' ^-; \The Rights of Translation and of Reproduction are reserved.} 0/ AD VER TISEMENT. Most of these Sketches have appeared in some of our best-known magazines, and are reprinted, with additions, through the kindness of the Publishers. They are in no sense intended for religious biographies; and the writer flatters himself that his readers will hardly be able to guess to which theological school he belongs, or if he belongs to any. His wish is to make some good men and true stand out as their cotemporaries knew them, and to recall them to fond recollection before memory grows dim and circumstances altogether changed. Perhaps some may agree with the great Latin poet, although not in quite the same sense : ' Forsan et hcec olim meminisse iuvabit CONTENTS. I. A Great Headmaster and Bishop : James Prince Lee, D.D., First Bishop of Manchester, II. A Large-hearted Prelate: James Fraser, D.D. Second Bishop of Manchester, . III. A Model Bishop : Samuel Wilberforce, D.D. successively Bishop of Oxford and Win CHESTER, ..... 37 58 IV. A Profound and Humorous Prelate : Connop Thirlwall, D.D., Bishop of St. David's, , 79 V. A George Herbert of the Nineteenth Century : Birkett of St. Florence, , . . .107 VI. An Original Pembrokeshire Parson : Smith of Gumfreston, . . . . . .129 VII. A Great Yorkshire Vicar : Walter Farquhar Hook, D.D., Vicar of Leeds, and Dean of Chichester, . . . . . ■ 151 VIII. A Good Archdeacon : John Allen, Archdeacon of Salop, ...... 180 IX. A Great Hymnologist : John Mason Neale, D.D., Founder of St. Margaret's, East Grin- stead, ....... 198 8 Contents. PAGE X. A Sweet Singer of Iskabl: J. B. Dykes, Mus. Doc, Vicar of St. Oswald's, Durham, . 224 XI. A Dear Old Dean : G. H. Bowers, D.D., Dean of Manchester, ...... 249 XII. A Genial Principal : Richard Parkinson, D.D., Principal of St. Bees, and Canon of Manchester, 263 XIII. An Old-fashioned Churchman : Cecil Daniel Wray, Canon of Manchester, . . . 283 XIV. An Odd Minor Canon : W. W. Johnson, Minor Canon of Manchester, .... 295 XV. A Batch of 'Old Church' Worthies: George PiLKiNGTON — William Andrew — Humphrey Nichols— Dr. John Boutflower, . . 300 RANDOM RECOLLECTIONS. I. -3. Greab Headrpasber ai)cl Bisljop : JAMES PRINCE LEE, D.D., FIRST BISHOP OF MANCHESTER. MY earliest recollections of Bishop Lee date from the foundation of the diocese in 1847, although I was not personally introduced to him till my ordination as -deacon in 1848. It is a matter of history that the separation of the See of Manchester from that of Chester was formulated in 1837, but with the prospective sacrifice of one of the Welsh dioceses ; a mischievous measure happily defeated by the piety and energy of the then Earl of Powis, and by the powerful reasoning of Bishop Thirlwall of St. David's. So that by Act 10 Vict., Bangor and St. Asaph were to be left 'undisturbed,' and Manchester 'to be founded notwithstanding.' lo Random Recollections. Perhaps these circumstances caused an unusual curiosity as to the clergyman on whom the appoint- ment would be conferred, not untempered with anxiety, when the kind of men selected by the then Premier, Lord John Russell, were considered. A good many names had been canvassed, the wish, perhaps, being father to the thought. Among these were Dr. Hook, Dr. Parkinson, and Dr. Molesworth, the then vicar of Rochdale, any one of whom would have been acceptable. Sanguine Evangelicals too, discussed the chances of the two stalwart Protestant champions, the Rev, Hugh Stowell and the Rev Hugh M'Neil ; and I hardly think that public opinion was quite pleased when it was officially announced that the lot had fallen on a Birmingham schoolmaster, however eminent. And stories were current that the Bishop elect was indebted to the special recommendation of the Prince Consort, in consequence of the favourable impression made on H.R.H.'s mind by his reception by Mr. Lee at Birmingham, and by the magnificent oration he pronounced on the occasion. Be that as it may, Cambridge scholars soon learnt that he had been a Fellow of Trinity and Craven scholar, and, according to Whewell's critical judgment, second to none in the University; that he had subsequently became a Rugby master under Arnold, and later on headmaster of King Edward's School, Birmingham. His position as the head of a great educational James Prince Lee, D.D. 1 1 system was indeed so unique, that he might well have said nolo episcopari in the sense in which Whewell is reported to have replied to some one who talked to him of being raised to the bench. ' Sir, there are twenty-six bishops ; there is only one Master of Trinity.' There cannot be a doubt, how- ever, that Lee entered on his new responsibilities with the same stern resolution which characterised him all along ; yet one can hardly think of him without recalling Virgil's well-known saying, O fortunati nimium sua si bona norint, for the very qualities which fitted him to be a great schoolmaster, were hardly the fittest to make him a great bishop. 'As a school- master, at the head of a great system,' wrote Dean Vaughan, who was with him at Rugby, ' he was wonder- ful. As a bishop, he attempted despotism, and the despotism of bishops is incongruous and out of date.' An old college friend, to whom he had offered a mastership at King Edward's, told me of his vast erudition, of his stern discipline, of the marvellous way he had of getting at the hearts of the best boys, and of the terror he was to dunces, and also of a constitu- tional waywardness of temper, which made you not quite know how he would receive you. So that it is hardly to be wondered at that I, and I daresay a good many besides me, entered his presence for our examinations with a certain amount of trepidation. There had been a sort of interregnum, so that the 12 Random Recollections. candidates had accumulated, and in all we numbered forty-four deacons and priests. We met in one of the schoolrooms belonging to the cathedral, so as to be near at hand, and one by one we were admitted into a separate apartment, where sat his lordship alone, with a table before him, on which, if I remember right, lay his watch, a small hand-bell, and, as it turned out, a Greek Testament. The surroundings were homely enough, but the Bishop himself impressed us with feelings approaching awe. There was an unmistak- able dignity in his appearance and bearing, which, although somewhat scholastic, could not fail to do so. At the time he must have been about forty-four or forty-five, although he looked older. In stature he was a little above the middle height, his head was shapely and intellectual, covered with crisp, curly hair, giving him the appearance of an old Roman patrician; his lips were thin, his mouth firm, the curves drawn into a smile if anything pleased him, severe and sarcastic if he were angered. But he reminded me most of a great mediaeval prelate — Stephen Langton, for example, or even of the mighty Hildebrand. And this resemblance was drawn out by a jeu eTesfrit of some ritualistic wags, who managed to get a photograph of him taken in cope and mitre, and with a pastoral staff in his hand, for which, of course, he never sat. Certainly he looked every inch a prelate. He kept this picture James Prince Lee, D.D. 13 on his drawing-room table, and years after I saw it there. It was on an occasion when I was having luncheon with him after I had sketched out for him a plan of the then projected Diocesan Calendar. So I ventured to say to him, 'I never saw your lordship look so well.' ' I daresay,' he replied, ' you would like me to adopt that habit.' ' Indeed I should, my lord.' 'And I should have no objection if it were the legal one.' I thought to myself. There's as much authority for that as for the habit which the Church Times called the ' magpie ' ; and if anything could give dignity to that somewhat ladylike costume, it would be the way Bishop Lee put it on, or rather, had it put on for him by his valet always, and the way he wore it over his full silk cassock, and with his shoes and silver buckles. But I am anticipating. When I went into the examination room, \ I was desired to be seated. An old, badly printed, con- tracted Greek Testament was placed in my hands, and I was told to read and construe wherever the book fell open. His questions, however, were fair and testing ; and as I acted on the advice of the Rev. William Scott of Hoxton, a well-known scholar and divine, editor of the Christian Remembrancer, which had superseded Newman's British Critic, the friend of 14 Random Recollections. Pusey and Keble and A. J. B. Hope, I came off, I am proud to say, with a commendation on the extent of my reading, although with a significant rider. My fidus Achates had said to me, ' Be sure and be well up in your Greek Testament, and Lee will never pluck you. Don't give any opinion of your own, but quote the ipsissima verba of the articles and formu- laries in Latin, if your memory serves you.' The ' rider ' was given with somewhat of a grim smile, and it was this : ' My chaplain tells me that he has not been able to find out your opinions from your papers.' I did not say what another candidate did, ' Opinions, my lord ? — why, at my time of life I do not venture to have any opinions ; ' I only bowed and said nothing. The Bishop slightly inclined his head, touched a hand- bell on the table, and as I went out another candidate went in. Thus my interview ended, not without an act of thanksgiving on my part. I did not get on so well with the chaplain. As a ' suspect,' I had some leading questions put to me on Article XL, etc. But I had attended Dr. Parkinson's lectures, and my great authority was Bishop Bull, so there is no wonder that I was not considered orthodox. No harm, however, came of it. The chaplain was a good man of a some- what pronounced evangelicalism. Many years after, my acquaintance with Bishop Bull served me a good turn. When my learned and devout curate, the Rev. E. F. Willis, was at Abergwili James Prince Lee, D.D. 15 for priest's orders, the then chaplain reported him to Bishop Thirlwall as somewhat heterodox on the Ninth Article. ' Where,' said his lordship, ' did you obtain your singular ideas ? ' ' From the writings of your lordship's illustrious predecessor, Bishop Bull.' ' Can you give me the references ? ' at the same time taking from his shelves a folio copy. ' Yes, here it is in his treatise on The State of Man before the Fall.' The Bishop put on his spectacles, looked at the passage. ' I will not trouble you any further,' and so he dismissed Mr. Willis. To return to Bishop Lee. How he loved to meet a real scholar, and how one would have liked to witness the interview between him and his distin- guished pupils Lightfoot and Westcott, previous to their ordination. Possibly, however, it may have been as brief as that between Dr. Phillpotts, when chaplain of Bishop Van Mildert of Durham, and the subsequently celebrated Dr. W. Hodge Mill, at the time Senior Classic and Fellow of Trinity. ' Mr. Mill, the cathedral service is at — o'clock, and the Bishop hopes you will do him the honour to dine at the Palace.' 'But,' said the astonished candidate, 'I've passed no examination.' 'There will be none in your case, unless you will condescend to examine us,' was the rejoinder. Dr. Lee was unapproachable as an orator on the classical model. When he spoke, he planted himself 1 6 Random Recollections. firmly on his feet, and advanced or receded a step or two when he emphasised any word or sentence ; his action was limited to his right hand, like that of the ancient Greeks ; his mouth, perhaps, more than his eyes, betrayed his passing feeling ; his management of his voice was perfect, for he articulated the consonants distinctly, so that you heard him clearly over the largest buildings, when more sonorous speakers could hardly be heard at all. A Christian orator you could scarcely call him, for, magnificent as were his orations, — for they were orations, — they failed to touch your sympathies, however they might win your admiration and convince your reason. You could not compare him with Bishop Wilberforce nor with Archbishop Magee, and hardly, though more approximately, with Bishop Moorhouse ; of ancient orators, he resembled Cicero more than Demosthenes. But, in the clearness of his comprehension, in the selection of his words, in the aptness of his illustrations, in the copiousness of his quotations, he was absolutely without a rival. Then you prized both what he said and how he said it, and all the more because he was so rarely heard in the pulpit or on the platform ; so that, in spite of his oratorical powers, he was what Bishop Latimer would have called 'an unpreaching prelate.' In fact he reserved his speeches for great occasions, and he almost gave you the impression of having prepared them too carefully ; but then, the doing of what he had to James Prince Lee, D.D. 1 7 do well was one of the great points in his character. And, ready as he was, you would have liked to hear from him a few simple words addressed to simple people; for, even in his confirmation addresses, he would introduce questions on Biblical criticism and research, some of them useful and suggestive, but hardly suited to such occasions. In one of these addresses, I remember, he illustrated the accuracy of the Evangelist's description of the stone being rolled to and from the entrance to our Lord's sepulchre, by the discovery of some great circular stones near the supposed site, which could only be moved by being rolled along. He grew quite animated as he told the candidates this, more animated, I am afraid, than they were. His ordination addresses were most valuable, especially when he spoke on the study of Holy Scripture. They were not touching and pathetic, like those, for example, never-to-be-forgotten ones of Bishop Wilberforce and Bishop Woodford; but he, was solemnly earnest in conferring holy orders. I shall not easily forget the occasion when he asked me to be one of the presbyters to join with him in the laying on of hands in the cathedral. How one wishes he had been spared to take part in the New Testament Revision ; and how valuable would have been his share in the work we can best guess from his eminent qualifications, and from the 1 3 Random Recollections. actual labours of his noted pupils, Drs. Lightfoot and Westcott. Of the interest he took in such questions the clerkly Dr. Dewes gives a remarkable proof. In his preface to his Life and Letters of St. Paul, Dr. Dewes writes : ' A . long interview was closed by the words, "As your Bishop I tell you, that if you do not continue the work you have begun, you will be culpably neglecting the gifts God has given you." ' It was strange that, with all his learning, he never published anything but two Charges and two Sermons. I once expressed to him my deep regret that he would bequeath no writings to the world. ' No,' he said ; ' I do not care to publish.' Thereupon I blundered into about as unpardonable a piece of malaprbpos as any one could be guilty of. I really had been very much touched by what he had said, so, quoting Shakespeare, and forgetting for the moment the application, I said, ' He dies and makes no sign ' {Henry VI., act iii. scene 3). All the Bishop said was, ' If to .leave no literary remains is to die and make no sign, I must submit to my fate; but I do not think that my thoughts will perish with me, for there are some who will not, I trust, forget what they have learnt from me.' How prophetic were these words I did not know at the time. One has only to think of his illustrious pupils, Benson, Lightfoot, Westcott, and Vaughan, to appreciate their truth. He; talked at the same time of the way in which the James Prince Lee, D.D. 19 thoughts of others are so appropriated as to be uncon- sciously reproduced as original. He tpld me, too, that . he was not conscious of forgetting .anything. I said, 'How you are to be envied ! ' He replied, ' There are many things I could wish' to forget.' I could not help, wishing that he had forgotten one or two disquieting circumstances ; but . in some, with which the public were not con- cerned, he was much misjudged. He seldom missed an opportunity of teaching. One day at Mauldeth, he said to me, ' I wonder how many of those who read yesterday's epistle (21st Sunday after Trinity) could follow St. Paul's figures of the; Roman warrior and his armour.' And with that he stood up, put.himself.into the attitude of a Praetorian Guard, and illustrated each part of the panoply in turn, as if he were wearing it. He. then opened a book of classical illustrations lying on the table, and showed the different kinds of shields in use. On the same occasion he repeated the injunction he had given me at my ordination, never to let a day pass without studying, the Greek Testament. But I must let others speak of him infinitely better able .to judge than I can be. Archbishop Benson,, one of his old pupils, says of him : ' We recognised magnificent- power, wide interests, large sympathy, inexhaustible freshness,. stern justice, and, above all, invincible, faith in the laws of thought and in the laws 20 Random Recollections. of language.' Another pupil, the Rev. Canon Evans, who subsequently became his son-in-law, and one of his successors as headmaster of King Edward's, writes : ' It is, I think, quite impossible for a stranger, or perhaps for any one, except a Birmingham pupil, to understand the complete devotion and afifection which some of us felt towards him. He was, I think, the most truthful man I ever knew. I do not believe that he ever knowingly was guilty of the slightest deviation from the simple truth. His marvellous accuracy in scholarship seemed to run through his whole nature. This quality in him perhaps caused him to be very severe in his judgment and treatment of those whom he thought untrustworthy.' And Bishop Westcott : ' He enabled us to see that scholarship is nothing less than one method of dealing with the whole problem of human existence, in which art and truth and goodness are inextricably combined. Like Arnold, too, he trusted his boys, and was rarely, if ever, deceived. The late Bishop Lightfoot wrote: 'I have sometimes thought that if I were allowed to live one hour only of my past life over again, I would choose a Butler lesson under Lee.' 'His conversation,' adds Dean Vaughan, 'was delightful, full of sparkle, full of salt alike in wit and in a playful mischievousness about stupid and pretentious people.' Another old Birmingham pupil told me: 'It is James Prince Lee, D.D. 21 hardly possible to describe what he was in his lighter moments. A torrent of fun and illustration, dog Latin, anecdotes full of dates and names, fag ends of ballads, epigrams, and plays, always clever and to the point, would follow one another without intermission.' But I am bound to say that he did not indulge the clergy with these gems. He kept us at a dis- tance, and treated us too much like schoolboys. An autocrat he certainly was. Our intercourse with Bishop Lee was chiefly con- fined to visits of business to St. James's Square. Ah ! who will ever forget that dreary office, how we sat kicking our heels in the outer room anxiously waiting till the little hand-bell _i sounded from the 'inner chamber,' and our names were called out by the chief clerk. On what principle we were admitted I could never make out. Seemingly, not alphabetically, nor according to the order of our arrival. I have known curates from the country sit in that wretched place for hours, listening to the scratching of the clerks' pens, only to see the Bishop's back as he entered his carriage to drive away. Some were called in quickly, and got rid of as quickly. Of one thing we clerics were fully aware, and that was that we had no chance of an interview so long as any laymen were waiting. A friend of mine was once kept waiting long after his dinner-hour. He ventured to complain, whereupon the Bishop produced some biscuits out of a paper 22 Random Recollections. parcel, the only comestibles, by the way, he ever allowed himself, however protracted his time. My friend tried to munch one, but a crumb stuck in his throat and set him coughing. The Bishop looked across the table at him. ' You do not seem, Mr. E., to enjoy your biscuit.' ' It is very dry.' The Bishop rang for a glass of water, which Mr. E. gulped down, and then bolted the remains of the biscuit. It ivas very- dry, so was his way of telling the story — dry humour. But that office witnessed an amazing amount of work. To cite the Primate again : ' His devotion to work was unwearying and unresting. His first day's work in his high office done ^fter noon on the day that office was conferred, and some of his heaviest days' work done when he was sick already unto death ; his only respite change of work ; no day of idleness ever self-allowed; ever open to fresh business, never so pleased as when a sudden emergency found him quite ready and keen to undertake it' Fifty years after leaving school. Bishop Westcott says, in a speech delivered at the opening of a girls' Grammar School in connection with King Edward's at Birmingham, January 22, 1893: 'An old boy never grows old; he is young still. There are some things that never feel the touch of age. The presence, the expression, the voice, the manner of my old master, have lost nothing of their vivid power by the lapse of half a century. I can James Prince Lee, D.D. 23 recall, as if it were from a lesson of yesterday, the richness and force of the illustrations with which he brought home to us a battle scene of Thucydides,.or a landscape of Virgil, or a sketch of Tacitus ; I can recall the eloquence with which he discoursed on great problems of life and thought suggested by some favourite passage of Butler's Analogy ; I can recall the depths which he opened to us in the unfathomable fulness of the apostolic words ; I can recall the appeals he made to the noblest instincts in us, revealing us to ourselves in crises of our school life and the life of the nation. We might be able to follow him or not ; as we grew older we might agree with particular opinions which he expressed, or we might not ; but at least our souls were touched, we felt a little more of the claims of duty, a little more of the possibilities of life, a little more of what in God's providence might lie before us. And when I look back upon all he did, and all he suggested, in the light of ray own long experience as a teacher, I seem to be able to discern something of his secret, something of that secret of the teacher's influence at all times. Let me try to tell you, as simply as I can, what I recall. First, then, he claimed that we should be from the very beginning his fellow- workers. He made us feel that in all learning we must not be receptive only, but active, that the true learner learns only if he thinks, just as the teacher 24 Random Recollections. can teach only as he learns. He encouraged us to collect, to arrange, to examine such simple facts as lay within the range of our own reading, that he might always use the results in dealing with some larger problem. In this way, little by little, we gained a direct acquaintance with the instruments and methods of criticism, and came to know something of confident joy in using them. We were delighted to discover a little thing which we each could severally do, something which we could render as a service, some offering which we could make to the fulness of the work in which we were engaged. And then this feeling was deepened by his own kingly independence. In those days we were doing for the most part nothing but simple Greek and Latin texts — rather shabby editions • of Tauchnitz or Trubner — well,. - without note or comment. A very difficult phrase, therefore was a problem to us, and grammars and lexicons were the only instruments at hand for the solution of it. But we' were trained to recognise the elements with which we had to deal, trained to ac- knowledge great principles of interpretation. Such discipline, you will easily understand, could not fail to upraise and to stimulate. And lest our zeal should flag, such English commentaries as there were at the time, were used to hold up for us terrible warnings against the neglect of absolute thoroughness and accuracy. For Mr. Lee — and that was the name by James Prince Lee, D.D. 25 which we delighted to think of him to the last — had an intense belief in the exact force of language. A word as he regarded it had its own peculiar history, and conveyed its own precise message. A structural form conveyed a definite idea. In translating, we were bound to see that every syllable gave its testimony. It might be possible, or it might not be possible, to transfer directly into English the exact shade of meaning conveyed by the original text ; but at least we were required to take account of the minutest turns of expression, required to seek at least for some equivalent for their force, required at least to recognise the loss which was sustained in our own renderings. And if I were to select one endowment which I have found most precious to me in the whole work of life, I should select the absolute belief in the force of words which I gained through the strictest verbal criticism. Belief in words is finally belief in thought, belief in men. Belief in words is a guide to the apprehension of the prophetic element in the works of genius. The deeper teachings of poetry are not disposed of by the superficial question, " Did the writer mean all that ? " jNo, we boldly answer ; but he said it because he saw the truth which he did not, and perhaps at the time he could not, consciously analyse. But the strictest precision of scholarship was never allowed by our master to degenerate 'into pedantry. Scholarship was our training, and 26 Random Recollections. let me confess, as belonging to the Dark Ages, I have found no better yet. But he pressed every incident of art, science, history, or travel into its service. When we came back from the holidays, the welcome question was, " Well, what have you read ? what have you seen?" The reward for a happy answer was to be commissioned to fetch some precious volume from his library, — I looked on the shelves this morning, and I could see the places of well-remembered books, — so that we might fix some thought by a new association. And in this way again we gained a knowledge of great books ; and there is, I believe, something elevating even in that outward acquaintanceship. Then came lectures on art, archaeology, and physics, which he enabled the senior boys to attend. These lectures opened to us new regions, and stirred in us that generous wonder which is the condition of wisdom.' Two faults were easily and readily found with him, and they were these — that he expected to find all men as constantly prepared for him as he was for them, and that he knew not the value of a holiday. The Bishop of Chichester says, ' Placed far above his fellows in intellectual capacity, with gifts which even the extremity of bodily weakness could not quench or even impair, he devoted himself entirely and with- out reserve to the labours of his office.' And Mr. Dudley Ryder, the registrar of the diocese, writing to James Prince Lee, D.D. I'j -Bishop Fraser before his consecration, says : 'The late Bishop, lip to within a few days of his death, was working. He consecrated a church six days before he died.' I do not think, when we felt aggrieved at the curtness of his manner, we made due allowance for what was found out afterwards, that he suffered for years from painful illness, which he bore like a Stoic, perhaps more than like a martyr. But, stern as he ■was to outsiders, he was not without sympathy. He had a deep affection for the late Canon Stowell, and, seiefningly differing in tastes and habits, their respect was mutual. The -Bishop once sent for me. I had .not a notion what' for. When I was shown in, he rose and extended his hand in, for him, an unusually friendly way. ' I have sent for you,' he said, ' to ask you to go and see Canon Stowell, who, I arti grieved to say, is very ill.' ' Certainly, my lord,' I assented ; ' I will go to please youi' ' No, not to please me, but as an act' of Christian duty and respect.' His voice faltered as he said this, and there were tears iri his eyes. I am thankful, looking back all those years, that the Bishop asked me, arid that I went. It was a lesson I could not have afforded to lose. Men like Hugh Stowell and Hugh M'Neill were powers in the northern province, and the Church was poorer for their removal. They were born orators, and held Lancashire audiences spellbound. If they formed 28 Random Recollections. the originals of Mr. Punch's ' Ye Protestant clergy- man denouncing ye Pope/ might they not have said, ' Have we not a cause?' They were manly, fearless men. I shall not forget a speech of Stowell's on ' Scriptural versus . Secular Education,' in the Town Hall, in opposition to Mr. or Dr. James Watts. The reverend orator was at his best, and I was so carried away by his impassioned eloquence, that I found myself standing on the top of a form, waving a topper hat over my head, and bawling out as loud as my lungs would permit, ' Stowell for ever ! ' Dr. M'Neill's greatest hit was when, iftthe presence of the Bishop of Chester, who had delivered a charge on the same subject, and the then Lord Stanley, he exclaimed (quoting Marmion), 'Charge, Chester, charge ! On, Stanley, on ! ' pointing to each in turn. The effect was electrifying. I wish we had such orators now, even if they did ' denounce ye Pope.' At Canon Stowell's funeral, we all were afraid that the Bishop would break down. Many people thought that the loss of his friend had a serious influence on his subsequent health and strength, and that it was the beginning of the end. It need not - be said that he was punctual both in answering letters and in keeping his engagements. People who saw him driving into Manchester with his carriage and purple liveries used to take out their watches and minute him ; and he arrived at St. James Prince Lee, D.D. 29 James's Square to the moment. On one occasion, however, he missed his train when returning to Manchester from a confirmation tour. A friend of mine walked down with him to Preston Station, just'in time to hear the engine whistle, and the train steam out. ' Mr. Palmour,' said his lordship, ' may I ask you to send a telegram to my coachman at Victoria Station?' 'What shall I say, my lord?' ' Train late.' ' Train late ? ' interposed the clergyman ; 'I can hardly send that, for it started just half a minute before its time. Had I not better say " missed the train " ? ' 'It would be more correct,' replied his lordship, who was accurate in all he said as well as did. He was a splendid organiser, and knew all that went on in his vast diocese. Some of us thought he knew a little too much, and would have been glad to be left more to ourselves. Those were not the days of ubiquitous bishops, and the average parson, especially in remote dis- tricts, never expected to see the diocesan unless some grave fault had to be found. One old- fashioned parson told me that ' he thanked God he never had a bishop in his church.' Well, one day a complaint had been made to Dr. Lee of some so- called ' ritualistic practices,' to which some cantank- erous parishioners objected. So the Bishop made up his mind to see for himself ; and, being in the 30 Random Recollections. neighbourhood, . he drove over, leaving his carriage at the village inn. Well, he dropped into the churchwardens' pew, under the gallery, and hoped not to be recognised, muffled up as he was in his. overcoat. But the vicar's friend and churchwarden spotted him, and so, as the parson was going up the pulpit stairs, out he crept from the pew and whispered in the minister's ear, ' Bishop, sir — Bishop in church — Bishop in our pew.' 'Ask his lordship,'* quoth the parson, ' to give the benediction.' 'I'm not in my robes,' replied the Bishop, when the application was made. So back goes the church- warden to the pulpit, and back again, to the pew, and after another whispering, ' Please, my lord, our. minister says the people mustn't go without your blessing.' A pause, perhaps rather a long one, and then uprose his lordship, and his clear, accents were, heard from the pew pronouncing the blessing. In the vestry, Dr. Lee said, ' Mr. , you took me at a disadvantage in asking me to pronounce the bene-, diction when I am not here in my official character.', This was not unwelcome news for the parson, for if the Bishop was not there officiallyy how could he overhaul him? So he said, '.The rubric does not say. a word about your lordship's official character ; all it says is, " The Bishop, if he be present, shall let them depart with his blessing." ' ' All's well that ends well.'. His lordship found that the complaints were ex-. James Prince Lee, D.D. 31 aggerated, an explanation took place, and confidence, was restored. I never knew but of one candidate who managed to take Dr, Lee in, and it happened thus : A public school and university man, who had spent a good deal more time in athletics than in theology, went in for his vivd voce. His chances of passing were of the slenderest, and there sat the Bishop with his watch on the table, for he had to minute each interview. The candidate had read, but not construed, the passage. As he glanced across the table, he saw one of Westcott's and Lightfoot's books plose to his lordship's elbow. A happy thought ' struck him, so he inquired with becoming modesty which of the two was the greater authority? The Bishop grew suddenly animated, his eyes sparkled, and he poured out a torrent of appreciatory criticism. The youth, as in duty bound, listened with affected humility.' Lee glanced at his watch ; the time was up ; no question was asked, and the candidate was ordained. Great men have their weaknesses, and Lee's was — he loved to hear his own voice. Few men spoke so wisely or so well. He had occasionally a droll way of putting things. Some of our advanced readers — I do not mean advanced in theology but in years— may remember some ritualistic rows which took place in connection, with my old "chiirch at St. Stephen's, Salford,, a 32 Random Recollections. quarter of a century or more ago. It was a very small storm in a very small pond, and one wonders how sensible people could have run amuck against things now practised everywhere without offence. I suppose I must have been in advance of my day. The bishop must have thought so too, for, in the only interview I ever had with him on the subject, he said, ' Mr. Huntington, you have composed for your people a tremendous potion, and made them drink it off without giving them time to draw their breaths.' But he could be angry. I never saw him more put out than by the way his health was pro- posed, and thanks accorded to him-, at the visitation dinner for his primary charge — he never delivered but one other. By unlucky chance this duty fell on my old acquaintance, the Rev. Hart Ethelston, who pronounced it to be 'the most innocuous charge he had ever heard.' That was damning with faint praise with a vengeance, and the Bishop never forgot it. But I must hasten on. My readers will thank me, I think, for Dr., now Bishop, Westcott's narrative of his last visit to Mauldeth. ' The health of the Bishop was already shaken, but his intellectual powers were never greater. In his intervals of leisure he returned to each old topic of interest. Now it was the famous variation in Luke ii. 14; now the almost prophetic character of James Prince Lee, D.D. 33 ^schylus, on whom I happened to be busy working at the time ; now a volume of sketches of old masters, in which he showed me the outline of Thorwaldsen's famous " Night" (owl and all), already given in a drawing (unless I am mistaken) by one of the Caracci; now it was the work of Arnold, on whom he delighted to dwell with loving admiration ; now some aspect of diocesan labour in which he saw some bright promise of hope. One evening I can never forget. We had dined alone ; there had been the usual rich variety of subjects in his conversation — playful quotations from Thucydides, and Aris- tophanes, and Virgil, in memory of school-days; a clear summary of the latest results of the explorations of Palestine ; an estimate of the moral influence of Shakespeare, which, to my surprise, h* judged some- what unfavourably. As the evening closed in, the topics became graver — he spoke of some of the diiificulties of belief, of future punishment,, and, in illustration of the instinctive promptings of the heart, he quoted the lines which he always called some of the noblest ever written : " virtutem videant, intabes- cantque relicid;" of modern theories — and here alone he allowed himself to use stern severity in condemning some untrained and hasty speculations. Then came a long and solemn pause, while his thoughts, I fancy, no less than mine, were pondering on the relation of Biblical controversies to the fulness of Christian 3 34 Random Recollections. faith. At last the Bishop turned his eyes on me — they were overflowing with tears — with a look which clings to me now, and said only this, " Ah, Westcott, A") OoiSou iLwm iciaTiMi!' The words have risen again and again before me in times of anxiety and doubt, charged for ever with a new force ; and what would I not give if I could convey to others the impression which they conveyed to me — crowning with the grace of complete self- surrender and childlike faith the character which through long years I had learned to revere for love, for power, for breadth, for insight, for justice, for sympathy.' I am grateful to Bishop Westcott for these remarks, and I have read them over and over again, for my own impression would have been that Bishop Lee felt more than most men the intellectual diffi- culties of belief. I was present the last time he attended his cathedral. The changes in him were very apparent, and we could see in him more than the beginning of the end. His sight was failing, and as he was walking down the chapter-house steps, he could not see where next to place his foot. I went out of my rank in the procession and offered him my arm, and so we walked into the choir together. I shall never forget his grasp, nor the warmth of his thanks. The Bishop died at his official residence at James Prince Lee, D.D. 35 Mauldeth Hall, after a painful illness borne with exemplary patience. He did not live to be old, but long enough to deplore the loss of friends all the more severely, because, considering what he was and what he might have been, he made comparatively so few. ' I am suffering,' he said a short time before his death, ' the . Roman's curse, " Si quis hos cineres violabit, ultimus suorum moriatur." ' His last words were characteristic : ' Occleston [his physician] tells me I am in danger, but I can trust. God's love has been greater to me than mine to Him, first at Rugby, then at Birmingham, and then in the grand work here.' No monument marks him in his cathedral, which was hardly to be ex- pected considering all the circumstances, much as one could wish to see his effigy idealised so as to transmit to posterity some sense of his striking face and figure. But a church, stately but simple, near to where he lived, has been erected to his memory; and in addition to his munificence to public institu- tions, he bequeathed his magnificent library to Owens College, now the Victoria University. The college was then little more than in its infancy, and one can only imagine the boundless influence such a man would have exercised for its welfare, had his life been spared, or had it been founded earlier. His truest memorial, however, survives in the hearts of those whom he made what they were, and 36 Random Recollections. in the undying service done for the Church and for Christianity by the profound and illustrious scholars whom I have already named, one of whom, alas! Bishop Lightfoot, has since followed him. In this sense he might well say, ' exegi monumentum mre perennius' I have called what I have written ' Random Recollections,' and random they are, for I have drawn on the memories of others besides my own : on those of men immeasurably better able to judge of him than I can possibly be ; men whose intimacy with him was infinitely greater than mine, and whose knowledge and scholarship and learning made them eminently fitted to estimate him. I do not think that Manchester appreciated him as it ought. Partly from circumstances, partly from faults which lay on the surface, they saw his defects, and did not rightly estimate his real worth. I am pleased to be able to state that this was the verdict passed on my paper in Temple Bar, from which the editor has kindly allowed me to make some extracts, by the bishop's son-in-law, the Rev. Canon Evans : ' You were one of the few who were able to discern his (the Bishop's) more noble qualities.' I am thankful that I was able to do so. Man- chester is not the only place which has not rightly estimated its greatest men. The century is richer by such men as James Prince Lee, and all the poorer when they are taken away. II. A Lar^e=I)ear(iecI Prelahe : JAMES FRASER, D. D., SECOND BISHOP OF MANCHESTER, BISHOP FRASER was consecrated on Lady Day, 1870, and I preached my first sermon as rector of Tenby on the Feast of the Epiphany, 1867. So that I can only lay claim to a very limited acquaintance with him. But during my annual visits to Manchester, I saw something and heard much about him, to say nothing of the newspapers, which were often full of him, his doings, and his sayings. When I first saw him, he was in the full vigour of his magnificent constitution, and a very man among men. As I looked at his clear, healthy complexion, invigorated by his rapid walks from Bishop's Court, the contrast between him and his predecessor, who had been slowly succumbing, in spite of his almost insurmountable will, to sickness and infirmity, was almost too painful. When it was bruited that the See had been offered 37 38 Random Recollections. to a Mr. Fraser, every one was asking, Who is Mr. Fraser? and the reply was, A country parson from Berkshire. Then those who were curious in such matters consulted their ' Crockford ' and the ' Oxford University Calendar,' and it turned out that he had taken a first class, and had been a fellow of Oriel. And gradually it oozed out that he was no ordinary man, and that, so far from vegetating in the country, he had been laying up stores of usefulness ; and that he had been employed by the Government of the dayin collect- ing statistics on the state of education in America. The wisdom of Mr. Gladstone's choice soon became manifest. Men of all schools congratulated both the Premier and his nominee — men of such varied opinions as Dean Church, Dr. Liddon, Bishop Temple, and Dean Stanley. And they all seemed to hit on the very qualifications which Lancashire was sure to estimate. He was a man of affairs rather than of books ; a philosopher of the forum rather than of the cave. It was presently seen, too, that he was very approach- able — nay, that if you did not approach him, he would approach you. Few men possessed such a winning presence. He was just the man a nervous lady would delight to travel alone with on a railway journey, or into whose hand a timid child would place its little fingers to be led over a crossing ; and, may I add, to whom a burdened heart would tell its tale of sorrow or of sin. James Fraser, D.D. 39 ' Nature had bestowed upon him a fine physical con- stitution. His frame was tall, broad, erect, well-built, and muscular ; his chest was ample and deep ; his forehead massive and open ; his chin large and firm ; his eyes clear, shining, and wide apart ; his nose prominent and strong ; his lips distinct and thin ; his countenance in action bright and sympathetic, but in repose pensive almost to sadness ; his voice a sweet, penetrating tenor, capable of almost every variety of expression, from the joy of laughter to the sorrow of tears ; while by the shake of his hand, he would con- vey an electric current of friendliness and goodwill. There was something in his very tread which attracted attention ; his step was elastic and long — the step of health, of purpose, and of power. . . . Men looked at him as if they were saying to themselves, " There goes one who is perfectly sincere, one whose business it is to make others happy, whose vocation it is to spread joy." ' ^ This is no exaggeration. Soon after his conse- cration, he was entertained by an intimate friend of mine, then Mayor of Salford, together with a Romish ecclesiastic of equal rank. My friend's little daughter (she had not then ' come out ') sat watching the two bishops, and, girl-like, taking in all they said. I asked her what she thought of each ? ' The Romish bishop,' said she, ' seemed to be thinking of the effect of what ' Bishof Eraser's Lancashire Life. By the Rev. J. W. Diggle. 40 Random Recollections. he was going to say before he opened his lips. Our dear Bishop seemed to be speaking everything straight from his heart.' My young friend, if she sees these lines, will re- member the conversation. She was an observant little philosopher in petticoats. My first introduction to Bishop Fraser took place in the vestry of a church in Hulme, built by the noble firm of Birley. It was what Manchester folk call a ' sloppy ' night following on afoggy day, therainfell drip-dripping from the roofs of thehouses.and the streetswere muddy, or, as they say in the north, ' clarty.' Yet the Bishop arrived in due time, bag in hand, unattended either by chaplain or flunkey. The church was crammed, mostly by mill-hands, and there was a pervading odour of damp fustian, cotton fluff, and machinery oil, show- ing that the people had come straight from the works and in their every-day dress, with the exception of the mill-girls, who were smartened up to the nines. We walked in procession, ' in snow-white stoles in order due,' preceded by a cross or banner bearer, and singing ' Brightly gleams our banner,' and ' Onward, Christian soldiers,' in which the Bishop's clear voice could be distinctly heard. The address — it could hardly be called a sermon — was earnest, pointed, and suitable to place and people. He spoke of home life and its blessings. He reprobated young people, and especially young girls, leaving the parental roof for James Eraser, D.D. 41 the greater liberty of lodgings. He pointed out the difference between liberty and licence; that submission to parents and those whom Providence has placed over us is the truest independence ; and then he entered so minutely into the trials incidental to mill-life, that I could not help thinking of what was said of another great preacher, that he knew the tricks of trade so well that he might himself have served an apprentice- ship to each craft represented in the congregation.^ He then turned to the young people, who were mostly sitting together, and besought them not to rise in the morning or to retire to rest at night without prayer for forgiveness, for guidance, for protection. I watched his face whilst he was preaching, and I was struck by its pathos. It looked as if he was in a sense bearing the burden of sin and misery around him, and that he might have said with St. Paul,^ ' Yea, and if I be offered upon the sacrifice and service of your faith, I joy, and rejoice with you all ; and in the same manner (R.V.) do ye also joy and rejoice with me.' When service was over, and we had gone back to the vestry, he laid his hand on the incumbent's shoulder, and, if I remember right, on mine too, and he said, 'Do not go into extremes, do not go into extremes.' Perhaps he thought we both needed the hint; perhaps we did. I thought to myself, as he ' Dr. M'Neill of Liverpool, if I remember right. 2 Phil. ii. 17. 42 Random Recollections. shook hands with us at parting, ' si sic omnes.' But why do bishops come and go like — well, let us say judges of assize, and never say a word of encourage- ment to the clergy and church-workers ? Their visits may be ' few, and far between,' but they are not much 'like angel's visits.' Bishop Wilberforce could win all hearts, but all bishops are not Wilberforces or Erasers. Some feel more than they are able to express. I was one day looking at some recent photographs in a shop not a hundred miles from Manchester, and took up one of a prelate whose name I will leave my readers to surmise. ' A grand man, sir, a grand man,' was the bookseller's comment ; ' but not much bothered with sentiment' I named the circumstance to a noted dignitary. He said, ' Perhaps you do the Bishop injustice ; he feels a good deal more than he cares to show! The church was one of those built by the Messrs. Birley, of whom I may freely speak, because they are gathered to their rest. Some time after, when I was bringing out the second edition of my Church's Work in our Large Towns,' I sent Bishop Fraser the ' proofs ' of my account of Manchester. In speaking of the Birleys, -I had written 'a firm of princely merchants,' but one of the brothers to whom I sent a revise struck out the word ' princely.' But the Bishop penned in the margin ' steV, so there it remains. As I was going home through the then narrow and James Fraser, D.D. ~ 43 crowded Deansgate, I noticed a barefooted, slipshod little girl tripping along^ before me, and singing, as she ran, in a sweet Lancashire voice — ' Angels of Jesus, angels of light, Singing to welcome the pilgrims of the night.' I tried to keep up with her, but she dived down a dark alley and was ' lost to sight,' but not ' to memory- dear,' and I have never forgotten the circumstance. Poor little 'pilgrim of the night'! how the simple incident would have touched the Bishop ! Some years after I was walking from Manchester to Eccles rather late on a winter's night, and I overtook a detachment (I do not know if that is the proper word) of policemen returning from their duty. So I joined them, and somehow the conversation turned on the Bishop. I found that he knew each one of them, had asked after their wives and families, talked to them, drawn out their sympathies, and — oh, ye lordly prelates, think of it ! — shaken hands with them. As I parted with them, the superintendent said to me, ' I wish that more of you clergymen would think that we constables have souls. You would not lose by it, I can tell you. Good-night, sir, good-night ! We must part here.' A friend of mine had a large Bible class of policemen in London. When he left his curacy to live on his college fellowship, they presented him with a handsomely-bound and clasped quarto Bible, with a reading-table to set it on. 44 Random Recollections. But this was just Bishop Eraser's forte. I believe 1 was the first clergyman of my time, in Manchester, who ujidertook to hold preachments in warehouses and railway sheds, and in the open air. Certainly I was the first of the cathedral clergy to do so. These services were started by a layman, — to whom, in consequence, we gave the name of Bishop, — but they were developed by others. My lay friend wrote to me to Tenby, to say that the Dean (Dr. Cowie) had taken one of these services, and later on, to his delight and satisfaction, the Bishop. My audiences had been pretty promiscuous — railway and pit-brow and foundry men, and brickmakers, and mill-hands ; but there were no fish that did not come to the Bishop's net, and his ready voice was heard not only by operatives, but by medical students, employees at theatres, cab - drivers, and even scavengers and slaughter men. But he made mistakes, as who has not done ? He was not, and did not pretend to be, a theologian, and some people said that in his numerous unpremeditated utterances he sometimes went very near heresy. But, in spite of this, his heart and conscience were sound, even though it might be true, as Dr. Macfadyen alleged, and as many other people regretted, that his sermons 'dealt sd little with the doctrines and experimental sides of Christianity.' 1 There cannot be a doubt that old- 1 Biggie's Life, p. 293. James Fraser, D.D. 45 fashioned church-going folk got tired of social ques- tions, and wanted to hear a little more of what they considered ' the Gospel' A lady friend of his once spoke of him as ' a magnificent pagan.' But a pagan in her sense he never was. Some persons looked on him as a socialist. A Christian socialist I do not hesitate to call him. What could be nobler than the following utterances on politics ?i 'I will tell you what politics mean. They do not mean being a Conservative or a Radical, belonging to a Liberal or a Tory club ; but they mean seeking the best interests of the nation, the greatest happiness of the greatest number, by every legitimate means. That was what political science mednt when Plato and Aristotle tadght it. And Christianity teaches such things as these : it teaches public spirit, patriotism, and obedience to the law. Above all things, it teaches men to be fair to their opponents, and to discountenance all mean and pitiful ambitions. What does it matter who is Prime Minister of Eng- land, so long as whoever fills that high position is seeking the best interests of the people ? I am neither a Conservative nor a Liberal. I hardly ever gave a vote at an election in my life, but I do desire that the country shall be governed by men, come from what side of the House they may, who are trying to pro- mote the greatest happiness of the greatest number. . . . Christianity, if more widely diffused, would 46 Random Recollections. purge our political atmosphere, as it has purged our moral and social atmosphei*e.' 1 Well does Mr. Diggle say, ' Bishop Fraser was no cheap and noisy demagogue. The notion of setting class against class was utterly alien from his temper, which was above all things a temper of inclusive charity. But, to all classes alike, he spoke with trans- parent directness arid plainness of speech, telling the rich of the utter selfishness of many of their luxuries ; telling the poor of the utter selfishness of many of their complainings.' ^ Here is the way he talked to the railway employees at Peterborough, June 23, 1873: 'Oh, my friends, a working man wrote to me, and said, if he wanted a thimbleful of drink, it is beer he gets ; but if a capitalist wants his drink, he has champagne ; and that because a man can put champagne on the table, he must be happier than you, who can only afford to drink beer ; and because he has ten thousand a year, he must be happier than you, who have only five-and- forty shillings a week. There is a saying that every- one has a skeleton in the house somewhere ; and these skeletons are more likely to be in rich men's houses than in poor men's houses, because there are more places to put them in. A rich man cannot always 1 Address to the