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 Memoir of the Rev John Keble. M.A. lat 
 
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 OF THE 
 
 REV. JOHN KEBLE, M.A. 
 
 LATE VICAR OF HURSLEY. 
 
 BY THE RIGHT HON. 
 SIR J. T. COLERIDGE, D.C.L. 
 
 " Te mihi junxerunt nlvei ^ne crimine mores, 
 Slmplicitasque sagax, ingenulisque pudor ; 
 Et bene nota fides, et candor frontis honestae, 
 Et studia a studiis non aliena meis." 
 
 Swx^ anD cI)eBper lEuitton. 
 
 OXFOBD and LONDON: 
 JAMES PARKER AND CO. 
 
 1874. 
 
 (-^ , 'fa 
 All Rights reserved. 
 
CDedlcatioii to the First Edition.] 
 
 TO 
 SIR WILLIAM HEATHCOTE, BART. 
 
 My dear Heathcotb, 
 
 TN placing your name at the head of this Memoir, I fulfil 
 a plain and pleasant duty. I dedicate it to a favourite 
 pupil of John Keble ; who became his fast friend; a?id 
 was his only patron. 
 
 I wish I could feel secure that the Memoir does no in- 
 justice to his memory. Such as it is I present it to you, as 
 flowing at least from a grateful heart. To him I owe more 
 than I can well express; and among the greater of those 
 many obligations I count it not the lecut, that for so many 
 years I have been able to call myself your affectionate and 
 faithful friend, 
 
 /. T. COLERIDGE. 
 
 HEATH'S COURT, 
 Dec. 26, 186S. 
 
PREFACE 
 
 TO THE FIRST EDITION. 
 
 SO much time has elapsed since it was understood 
 that I had commenced the work which I now 
 publish, and in itself it might seem to have required 
 so little, that a few words of explanation may be 
 proper; and but a few will be all that I can offer. 
 When I undertook my task, some of my best friends 
 doubted whether I had still strength of body or mind 
 sufficient for it. Beginning it with perhaps too much 
 eagerness and anxiety, it was not long before I was 
 stopped by an illness, some effects of which have 
 never wholly left me — one of them has been the 
 inability, sometimes, to work at all — and always to 
 do so for more than a short period of time from 
 day to day. 
 
 This will be accepted, I hope, as an excuse for 
 delay ; what effects the same circumstance may have 
 had on the book itself, it is useless for me to con- 
 sider; no explanation will cure its faults, or supply 
 its short-comings : though I hope it may help to 
 acquit me of inconsiderateness in undertaking, and 
 of carelessness in executing it. 
 
 b 
 
VI PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. 
 
 I expressed very early, and I believe more than 
 once, what I now desire very earnestly to repeat, my 
 fear that in, printing many of John Keble's letters to 
 myself I might lie open to the imputation of bring- 
 ing my own name too forward. I find now that in 
 the beginning I had hardly realised the extent to 
 which this would go ; and yet, as I advanced, I knew 
 not how to avoid it. I could not think it right to 
 alter his expressions, perfectly sincere as I knew 
 them to be, though certainly exaggerated. The truth 
 is, he was so humble, and at the same time so loving 
 to his friends, that it seemed as if in his mind all the 
 weakness and imperfection were in himself, all the 
 strength and goodness in them. His letters must be 
 read with this thought in the mind of the reader. 
 
 It may be said that I might not only to some 
 extent have escaped this difficulty, but added much 
 to the interest of my Memoir, if I had made more 
 use of his letters to other friends and less of those 
 to myself. There is much truth in this remark, and 
 I have done what I could to comply with it. But it 
 is not every possessor of his letters to whom I could 
 properly apply. Many of them were written to per- 
 sons on their own troubles and difficulties, and such, 
 though very interestihg, the holders would be little 
 likely to give me for publication, and certainly I could 
 not ask them. 
 
PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. vii 
 
 To some extent I trust this may be taken for an 
 answer, without mpre specification ; but I must say 
 a particular word as to one, perhaps his dearest and 
 most honoured friend, who will bq in every one's 
 mind — Dr. Pusey. I suppose he possesses large 
 numbers of important and interesting letters. He 
 has always been so kind to me, that I should be 
 ungrateful if I doubted his readiness to help me — 
 indeed to volunteer his help, wherever he felt he 
 could do so properly. Yet it is obvious that from 
 the very intimacy which subsisted between them, 
 combined with the extreme delicacy of the subjects 
 to which their correspondence must have principally 
 related, his letters might be just such as he would 
 think it improper as yet to make public. I have 
 therefore never applied to him ; and for reasons not 
 exactly the same, but of the same kind, I have pur- 
 sued the same course with Dr. Newman. 
 
 The work no doubt suffers in consequence. 
 
 Keble's Letters to Hurrell Froude would have 
 been specially interesting ; writing to this pupil 
 first and friend after, whom yet he always loved 
 as a younger brother, he would have been presented 
 in a new light. Mr. W. Froude, Hurrell's repre- 
 sentative, was ready to communicate the letters if 
 they could be found, but the search for them has 
 been unsuccessful. 
 
Vlll PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. 
 
 The help which I have received has come from so 
 many persons, that I am compelled to ask the far 
 larger number to accept a general, but most hearty- 
 expression of my gratitude. What has been done 
 for me by some has been acknowledged, or will 
 appear, in the work itself ; such for example as 
 Mr. Wilson. Beside much specific information, he 
 placed in my hands a great many letters of which 
 I have made free use. 
 
 But it would be wrong if I did not specify by 
 name three ladies, who may yet I fear think it an ill- 
 return for their kindness — Miss Baker, Miss Maria 
 Trench, and Mrs. Cooke Trench — to whom I must 
 add the Author of the " Daily Readings." I was 
 very desirous of giving an authentic account of 
 Keble in his office of Pastor of Hursley ; and if I 
 have succeeded in doing so, it is to be attributed en- 
 tirely to the communications they were good enough 
 to make to me. I cannot thank them too warmly. 
 
 In such a work as Keble's Life it was impossible, 
 at least I have found it so, not to touch on many 
 matters once the subject of hot controversy. When 
 I began, I hoped I had laid down for myself a rule 
 by which I might escape the responsibilities of a 
 Church Historian. Perhaps I ought to have fore- 
 seen how impossible it would become in the progress 
 of the work strictly to observe that rule. I am 
 
PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. ix 
 
 sensible that sometimes I have not ; and in conse- 
 quence I may possibly have given pain or offence 
 to excellent persons who now survive. I beg such 
 to believe that I regret this very much. I do not 
 know that I have anywhere questioned the motives 
 of those from whose judgments I have been com- 
 pelled to differ; and if I impute error to others, 
 I am not so unwise as to suppose that I may not 
 have fallen into it myself. 
 
 J. T. C. 
 
 Heath's Court, 
 Dec, 24, 1868. 
 
 I OUGHT not to part from this work without one 
 word upon another and far greater, now in progress 
 at Oxford, designed in part for the same purpose ; 
 I speak of Keble College. It is indeed a great con- 
 ception and an almost unprecedented memorial ; but 
 it is more than a mere memorial, (if it were not, 
 Keble would have shrunk from it,) it is an institution 
 dedicated to the academical education of numbers, 
 who without it may be unable to obtain that in- 
 estimable advantage. What is now being attempted 
 at Oxford in another way testifies to the need, and 
 I wish it every success ; but I still venture to think 
 
X PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION. 
 
 that the Collegiate system is essential to the com- 
 pleteness of an Oxford training. 
 
 Our undertaking, however, requires very much 
 larger help than it has hitherto received, and I 
 cannot but earnestly press this consideration on 
 all who feel grateful to Keble, and would be glad 
 to honour his memory ; and also on all who desire 
 to extend Oxford education not in a sectarian or 
 illiberal, but truly Christian spirit, to a large class 
 much desiring, much needing, and, without this help, 
 quite unable to compass it. 
 
PREFACE 
 
 TO THE SECOND EDITION. 
 
 QOON after the death of John Keble, a letter 
 '^ was written to his nearest and dearest surviving 
 relative, by one who knew him as well as he loved 
 him. I venture to print the following extract : — 
 
 " I suppose that no man has died in England within our 
 memory who has been so dearly loved, and whose memory 
 will be had in such tender reverence by so many good men. 
 It will be long before many will cease to say to themselves 
 when in doubt, 'What would Keble say to this?' or to re- 
 mind themselves of his ways and sayings ; and of Hursley 
 as it was in his time ; and of all that made his judgment 
 a law, and his companionship delightful. However, I 
 think it is not the companionship that comes most into 
 the mind just now. What I think remarkable, was not 
 how many people loved him, or how much they loved him, 
 but that everybody seemed to love him with the very best 
 kind of love of which they were capable. 
 
 " It was like loving goodness itself; you felt that what 
 was good in him was applying itself directly and bringing 
 into life all that was best in you. His ready, lively, trans- 
 parent affection seemed as if it was the very spirit of love, 
 opening out upon you, and calling for a return, such as 
 you could give. At the same time its unsuspectingness 
 was almost alarming. You were probably too near to him 
 to know that singular mixture of triumph and shame which, 
 I think, he caused to many of his friends, by the unreserved 
 
xil PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION; 
 
 affection which he poured out upon them, on the faith of 
 their possessing all the singleness and purity of heart which 
 he felt in himself. But it was, I think, very common ; and 
 I believe that numbers of persons were continually urged 
 forwards by a kind of shame at feeling themselves so 
 much behind what he appeared to think of them. 
 
 " His influence for some time has been so silent, that 
 one hardly knows what his loss may be to the Church. 
 But it is impossible not to fear that many people will be 
 liable to do wild or angry things, when they are relieved 
 from that silent control which was exercised by the general 
 reverence which all men felt for him. However, that is 
 in Higher Hands." 
 
 There is not a syllable of exaggeration in this 
 beautiful extract ; and it is owing to the general 
 feeling, so well described in it, that I find myself 
 called on to prepare a second edition of this book 
 very long before I had any expectation of such a 
 call being made on me ; and a sense of this has 
 naturally made me more anxious to correct some 
 inaccuracies which had crept into the former edition. 
 This I have endeavoured to do. 
 
 But beside inaccuracies as to facts, friends have 
 suggested in private, and critics through the press 
 have pointed out, what seem to them omissions, or 
 faults in the conception of the work as well as in 
 the execution. In some respects it will be found, 
 I hope, that attention has been paid to such re- 
 marks ; and where it has not been, this must not 
 be attributed to want of respect, or consideration. 
 This indeed would have been unpardonable in me; 
 
PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION. xiii 
 
 for so far as I know, I have been treated even by 
 the most decided of my critics with a respect and 
 kindness which I wish I deserved, and for which 
 I feel sincerely grateful. Sometimes, however, I 
 have not agreed with my advisers, sometimes I have 
 found myself unable to do what they desired. There 
 are faults I suppose in every work, which are so 
 interwoven with the main web that they cannot be 
 removed without unravelling the whole piece. I am 
 too old to recast the work ; and I desire it should 
 be borne in mind, that from the beginning I ex- 
 pressly limited myself to a certain part, and did not 
 undertake the whole of Keble's history. 
 
 I must now mention some new matter, which will 
 be found in this edition. Since the issue of the 
 former, two parcels of letters have been found, the 
 one to Hurrell Froude, the other to his father, 
 the Archdeacon ; they were found singularly , enough 
 with a small quantity of plate, and some personal 
 jewels of little value, in a house formerly the pro- 
 perty of the latter, and for many years occupied by 
 his sister, which is now the property of Mr. William 
 Froude. He was good enough to place them un- 
 reservedly in my hands ; and I have published a 
 few, which will be found in their proper places. All 
 are written in the same spirit, and with the same 
 ability, which are characteristic of the letters I had 
 before printed ; and should it be thought right to 
 publish an independent selection of his letters, many 
 of them I hope will be found in it. 
 
xiv PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION. 
 
 A more important addition will be found in the 
 Appendix, which I have annexed to this volume. 
 This mainly consists of papers from which I made 
 extracts in my concluding chapter. I have thought 
 it better now on many accounts to print them at 
 length ; by so doing I am aware some repetition will 
 appear, and it will be seen, I fear, not only that I 
 was too sparing, but also that I was injudicious in 
 my selection. By printing them as I now do, I shall 
 give a more adequate view of the inward and do- 
 mestic life of Keble, the want of which has justly 
 been complained of; and I can more conveniently 
 place the purchasers of the first edition on a footing 
 with those who may possess themselves of the second 
 as cooies of this appendix will be printed separately 
 for their convenience. 
 
 J. T. C. 
 
 Heath's Court, 
 April 2^, 1869. 
 
PREFACE 
 
 TO THE THIRD EDITION. 
 
 SINCE the publication of my Second Edition, 
 I have been favoured with several suggestions, 
 contributions, and proposed amendments, — in many 
 cases coming from those who were personally un- 
 known to me ; in all proceeding from that reverent 
 love to John Keble, and respect for his memory, 
 which lead so many to regard even this imperfect 
 biography as, in some sort, a national property, 
 which all are interested in making as perfect as 
 they can. 
 
 Feeling this very strongly, I am yet not the less 
 obliged personally; and if I have unintentionally 
 omitted to make my acknowledgments separately 
 to each one to whom I am thus indebted, I hope 
 this will not be attributed to anything but old age 
 and impaired memory. 
 
 Some of these communications will be found . in 
 their proper places in this edition, — others have 
 been passed over, not because they were under- 
 valued, but because to introduce them properly 
 would have required greater alteration in the text 
 than I feel myself now at liberty, or indeed able, 
 to make. 
 
 J. T. C. 
 
 Heath's Court, 
 Oct., 1869. 
 
PREFACE 
 
 TO THE FOURTH EDITION. 
 
 PUBLISHING a Fourth Edition of this Memoir, 
 I abstain, as when publishing the last pre- 
 ceding one, from any material corrections, or ad- 
 ditions. The same reasons operate on my mind 
 now, as then ; and I may add, that I am conscious 
 of a great decrease in whatever power I may have 
 once possessed, to execute properly any alteration 
 I might desire to make. 
 
 Thus much I say, because I should be sorry if 
 it were supposed that I abstain from alterations, 
 because I think none in themselves desirable. No 
 one, I believe, is more sensible than I am of the 
 faults of the book, both in conception and execu- 
 tion, nor how much I owe to the indulgence which 
 has been extended to it. I hope that, without 
 abusing this indulgence, I may express my desire 
 for a continued exhibition of it. 
 
 J. T. C. 
 
 Heath's Court, Ottery St. Mary, 
 April 2 2, 1874. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Introduction. — Birth. — Boyhood . ... . . . i 
 
 t 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 UndergraduatesUp. — Corpus Christi, 1806 — 181 1 ... 9 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 Jolin Miller. — George James Cornish. — Charles Dyson . . 22 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Final Examination. — Election at Oriel. — University Prizes. — 
 Sidmouth. — Ordinations. — First Curacy 47 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Tutorship and Second Residence at Oriel. — Death of Mrs. Keble. 
 — 1818— 1823 70 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Return to Fairford, 1823. — Southrop. — Pupils. — Hurrell Froude. — 
 " Christian Year"- 108 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Hursley Curacy. — Death of Mary Ann Keble. — Return to Fair- 
 ford. — 1825, 1826 130 
 
XVIU CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Return to Fairford. — Publication of "Christian Year." — 1826, 
 1827 146 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Provostship of Oriel. — Edition of Hooker's Works. — India-House 
 Examinations .......... 175 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Paignton. — Poetry Professorship, and Lectures. — Assize Sermon, 
 1833.— The Tracts. —Death of Mr. Keble.— 1835 . . 205 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Coin St. Aldwyn. — Engagement with Miss Clarke. — Acceptance 
 of Hursley Vicarage. — Marriage, and Settlement at Hursley. — 
 Visitation Sermon. — Hurrell Froude's "Remains." — A. Knox. — 
 Version of Psalms. — Creweian Oration and Wordsworth. — 1839 233 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 1840. — Library of the Fathers. — Charles Marriott — Dr. Arnold. — 
 Tract 90, and Subsequent Proceedings ... . 262 
 
 CHAPTER Xin. 
 
 Otterboume Church and Parsonage. — Ampfield Church and Par- 
 sonage. — Hursley Parsonage. — " Lyra Innocentium." — Keble's 
 Resolution as to the English Church. — " Mother out of Sight." 281 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 "I>yra Innocentium." — Charles Marriott's College, — Gladstone 
 Contests ':2I 
 
CONTENTS. xix 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Should Keble have been preferred to Dignity in the Church ? — 
 Tour in Wales, and Visit to Ireland, 1840. — Tour in Scotland, 
 1842. — Undertakes to Write Life of Bishop Wilson. — Visit to 
 Isle of Man, 1849. — Marriages with Sister of Deceased Wife, 
 1849. — Second Visit to Man, 1852.— Trip to Skye, 1853 . . 354 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 DeathofW. C. Yonge, 1854.— Oxford University Reform . . 381 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 1854, Bishop of New Zealand at Hursley. — Francis George Cole- 
 ridge's Death.— Visit to the West. — The Vineyard and Darl- 
 ington Rectory. — Archdeacon Wilberforce. — Service for Emi- 
 grants. — North of Devon. — Professor Reed. — Decision of the 
 Denison Case. — Tour in North Wales.— Argument on the Di- 
 vorce BUI. — Departure of Mr. Young and Family. — 1857, Tour 
 in Switzerland, — Eucharistical Adoration .... 406 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 t8S7, Death of the Rev. J. D. Coleridge.— Building of School 
 Chapel at Pitt, 1858.— Death of Mrs. T. Keble, Junior, 1858.— 
 Troubles in the Scottish Episcopal Church. — Stay at Oxford, 
 1859. —Tour to the North. — Visits to Edinburgh, i86a — 
 Death of Elizabeth Keble, August, i860. — Death of C. Dyson. 
 — Visit to Devonshire. — Death of J. Patteson, i85i . . . 443 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 Keble's Self-dissatisfaction, and Thoughts of Resignation. — Oxford 
 Local Examinations. — Mrs. Keble's Alarming Illness. — Move 
 to Sea View. — First Visit to Penzance. — Bishop Wilson's Life 
 Completed. — Church Discipline. — Court of Final Appeal in 
 
XX CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Cases of Doctrine. — Bishop of Winchester's Charge. — Com- 
 mentary on the Bible. — First Stay at Penzance. — Return to 
 Hursley. — Judgment in Long v. Bishop of Capetown. — First 
 Visit to Torquay in January, 1864. — Second Stay at Penzance, 
 April, 1864 469 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 Subscription and Oaths of the Clergy. — Return from Penzance. — 
 Practice as to Confirmations. — Paralytic Seizure, November, 
 1864. — Second Visit to Torquay. — Removal to Penzance. — The 
 Colenso Appeal. — Pastoral Letter to the Confirmed at Hursley. 
 — Visit at Heath's Court, May 10.— Return to Hursley. — Aboli- 
 tion of Tests at Oxford. — Mrs. Keble's Severe Illness. — ^Visit of 
 Dr. Pusey and Dr. Newman . .... 504 
 
 CHAPTER XXL 
 
 October 11, 1865, Leave Hursley, and go to Bournemouth. — 
 Letter on the Ritual Question. — His Life at Bournemouth. — 
 Illness. — Death, March 29, 1866. — Burial at Hursley. — Re- 
 marks on Person and Character. — Mrs. Keble's Death, Burial, 
 Character .,..., . 535 
 
MEMOIR 
 
 OF THE 
 
 REV. JOHN KEBLE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. — BIRTH.— BOYHOOD. 
 
 IT is not without sincere misgivings that I com- 
 mence this memoir. My sense of the difficulty 
 of writing it properly, as well as of the importance 
 that it should, be written, if at all, fully, delicately, 
 faithfully, lovingly, has become more strong the 
 more I have had occasion to consider it with re- 
 ference to myself I will not affect to deny, that if 
 the duty had been cast on me some years earlier, 
 there were personal circumstances which, at least 
 in part, might have seemed to recommend me for 
 the performance of it — the most affectionate inti- 
 macy, and the closest communion of feelings and 
 opinions, the possession of an unbroken correspond- 
 ence from the year 1811, and the kind confidence 
 with which the representatives of deceased friends 
 were ready to confide to me a large number of his 
 letters ; these were among those circumstances. But 
 
 B 
 
Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 I feel now that my great age, and impaired strength 
 •of mind, as well as body, are more than equivalent • 
 disadvantages; indeed, a serious illness since I be- 
 gan to prepare for my work has added much weight 
 to this consideration. Nor can I forget that the 
 very advantages I speak of have a tendency to mis- 
 lead me in the composition, and to disturb the pro- 
 portions of my work, to make me dwell too much 
 at length on parts exceedingly interesting to my- 
 self, but which may seem of less importance to 
 those, a great proportion probably of my readers, 
 who may be specially desirous to know of the part 
 which John Keble took in the' different measures 
 and movements of our times in Church matters, 
 and who will find themselves disappointed. For 
 when I consented to the request made to me, I felt 
 that I was not in any way competent to write the 
 liistory of our Church for the last forty years, which 
 yet seemed a necessary part of any complete ac- 
 count of his work on earth. In these very important 
 matters my narrative will be deficient, and many of 
 my readers will be disappointed. 
 
 Under all these circumstances, I cannot complain 
 5f I am asked why I have undertaken to write at 
 all. In answer, I will not dwell on reasons of minor 
 and in themselves perhaps insufficient importance. 
 The truth is, that I was requested by one to whom 
 at the time it was almost impossible for me to re- 
 fuse any such thing ; and the performance of rHy 
 
Introduction. 
 
 promise, in so far as I am able, appears to me now: 
 in the light of a sacred duty. 
 
 My readers, however, will gather from^ what I have 
 said, that my work will nqj assume 1:o be a com- 
 plete biography; indeed, independently of the rea- 
 sons which apply to myself personally, it seems to 
 me that the time has hardly yet arrived when this 
 could be done, at once so freely and so dispas- 
 sionately as it ought to be, if done at alL Some 
 •one will be found, I have a good hope, in due time 
 to accomplish this more important task ; to whom 
 what I am about to do may be of some service. 
 The George Herbert of our days ought not in the 
 •end to be left without his own Isaac Walton. 
 
 I must still farther, however, and perhaps in jus- 
 tice to myself, warn my readers that they are about 
 to enter on a most uneventful story ; few persons- 
 have (lived so long, and achieved so great a name, 
 ■about whom there is so little of change or incident 
 to record. His life was passed in his father's house, 
 in his college rooms, in his curacies, or in his vicarage, 
 in occasional Long- Vacation rambles, in visits to the 
 sea-side for the alleviation of sickness. H-e ear- 
 nestly avoided publicity ; happily for himself per- 
 haps, neither the Crown nor the Church thought him 
 a fit subject for promotion, which I 'need not say he 
 never solicited, and I believe would have declined. 
 Those who desire to read an exciting story will do 
 well to close this book at once ; but there are still 
 
Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 some, I believe, who either out of personal regard 
 or grateful veneration may desire to know inti- 
 mately his character, the manner of his passage 
 through life, and the performance of his duties ; 
 how he lived, and how he died. As well as I can, 
 I will try truly and simply to gratify the wishes of 
 such readers. My object will be to present a full 
 and faithful picture of his character ; faithful, I hope, 
 though drawn unquestionably in a reverent spirit, 
 and with a loving hand. 
 
 I will not detain my readers by any further pre- 
 face, nor will I consume time by any account of 
 John Keble's family pedigree ; it was a matter in 
 which he took little interest. He never, that I re- 
 member, mentioned to me the name of any one of 
 his ancestoi's, except that of Joseph Keble, of whose 
 strange taste (as it seemed to him) he spoke slight- 
 ingly, in employing himself as a Law-reporter; he 
 did not know at the time the importance of the 
 office, nor how much ability, industry, and learning, 
 a successful discharge of it implied. Joseph Keble 
 was a Reporter of the decisions of what is now styled 
 the Court of Queen's Bench from 1660 to 1678; he 
 did not, however; possess the qualifications of a good 
 one, and his volumes are of little authority. I never 
 heard Keble speak of Joseph's father, Richard, a law- 
 yer of greater eminence. Mr. Foss, in his careful and 
 
Birth. 5 
 
 useful book, "The History of the Judges," records 
 of him, that the Parliament made him a Welch 
 Judge in 1647, a- Serjeant in 1648, and one of the 
 Commissioners of the Great Seal after the King's 
 execution, together with Whitelocke and -L'lsle. I 
 do not know the precise reasons, but it is perhaps 
 presumably not to his dishonour, that he found 
 favour neither with Cromwell nor Charles II. The 
 former displaced him in 1654, -and the latter, upon 
 liis Restoration, excepted him from the Act of In- 
 demnity ; perhaps he was one of the Regicide 
 Judges. Probably Keble knew nothing of these 
 circumstances, and if he had known them, his 
 passionate loyalty for the memory of Charles I. 
 would have prevented his dwelling on them with 
 much pleasure or interest. 
 
 John Keble was born on St. Mark's Day, 1792, 
 at Fairford in Gloucestershire. I saw it stated by 
 a correspondent of the " Guardian," that he had 
 represented himself on one occasion to have been 
 born in Hampshire, and I dare say he may have 
 expressed himself so as to be .misunderstood in 
 that sense. Among the many letters, with the use 
 of which I have been favoured, I have found one 
 to George Cornish in which, dating from Hursley, 
 h^ speaks of a visit he had just paid with his ma- 
 ternal uncle to Ringwood, " to see his mother's 
 native place." The passage is characteristic, and 
 I will extract it ; the silence in it as to his own 
 
Memoir of the Rev. John Kehle. 
 
 place of birth would be almost conclusive if there 
 were any real doubt about it : — 
 
 " As I hinted before, these are terrible times, and I have 
 just been laying out oceans of money on a new brown 
 jacket for my boy James, not to mention a journey which 
 I took last Monday and Tuesday thro' Lyndhurst and 
 Lymington to Ringwood, in order to see my Mother's 
 native place ; to be sure it was at my Uncle's expense, 
 but no matter for that. I am very glad I v/ent; altho' I 
 could not have believed all memorials could have vanished 
 in so short a time. Of the Parsonage where she Hved, 
 not one stone stands upon another, and there is but one 
 person in the place who recollects her; however. Uncle 
 shewed me where she used to sit in Church, and that was 
 well *orth going for. Ringwood is a much nicer place 
 than I had expected; the meadows looked so beautifully 
 green now all other grass is brown, and the alders, cattle, 
 boats, and islets, were strewn about in various distances 
 .under a hot sun and thunder-cloud, making altogether 
 a very pretty Flemish landscape. And Lyndhurst is the 
 nicest place, in the middle of the Forest. I tlunk Archery 
 meetings there would be very nice things, but not half so 
 nice as a meeting of you and me — which, that it may 
 happen soon, and last long, is tlie sincere wish of ycur 
 ever affectionate J. K., Jun'." 
 
 The interest he thus took in Ring\vood, and his 
 own settlement in Hursley, might well make him 
 call himself a Hampshire man, a phrase easily mis- 
 understood, but there is no doubt that he was a 
 Gloucestershire man by birth. He was tlie second 
 
Boyhood. 7 
 
 child and eldest son of the Rev. John Keble and 
 Sarah Maule, the daughter of the Incumbent of 
 Ringwood ; three sisters and one brother, now the 
 only survivor, completed the family circle. A few- 
 words must be said of his father. He was, I should 
 suppose, a good scholar, and a man of considerable 
 ability, besides that he was a clergyman of exem- 
 plary piety. He alone educated the two brothers 
 up to their going to Oxford, and he had fitted both 
 to be not merely successful competitors for Scholar- 
 ships at Corpus Christi College at unusually early 
 ages, but to enter on the studies of the University 
 with credit and advantage. John Keble always spoke 
 and wrote of him with singular love and veneration. 
 I think I scarcely ever received a letter dated from 
 Fairford during his lifetime, in which his health or 
 employments were not mentioned, or some remark 
 of his quoted ; and in several rather important in- 
 cidents in the son's life a word, even a look, from the 
 father sufficed to determine his decision. It seemed 
 indeed at all times to be John Keble's main object 
 to consult his pleasure, and in the decline of his life 
 to give him help and comfort. He was the Vicar of 
 Coin St. Aldwin's, about three miles from Fairford * 
 he resided at Fairford in a house which was his own 
 property. He lived to his ninetieth year, taking occa- 
 sionally a part of the Sunday duty to within a very 
 few months of his death. 
 
 I have not been able to recover any noticeable 
 
8 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 anecdotes of John Keble's boyhood. I certainly 
 heard when we were Undergraduates together, that 
 his father had never compelled him to study, and 
 ■that he was taught only when he liked to learn. 
 I have not been able on enquiry now to verify this 
 story, yet it was so much the common understand- 
 ing with us in College, that I do not doubt it was 
 substantially true ; and however unwise as a general 
 rule, it may not have answered ill with such a boy. 
 Certain it is that his proficiency both in Latin and 
 Greek, and in Latin composition, at fifteen, would 
 have done credit to distinguished boys of the same 
 age at the best public school. One little circum- 
 stance I think worth recording before I pass from 
 his boyhood, because it seems to furnish proof that 
 even at that period he displayed to an attentive ob- 
 server the same character for which he was so re- 
 markable through life. One of his Godfathers was 
 Mr. Stafford Smith, the Rector of Fladbury. Be- 
 tween the two families there seems to have been 
 a good deal of intimacy, and he saw a good deal 
 of his godson ; he always designated him by tlae 
 title of John the Good. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 UNDERGRADUATESHIP. — CORPUS CHRISTI, 
 1806— 1811. 
 
 TV /r R- KEBLE had himself been a Scholar and 
 -'-'-'- Fellow of Corpus Christi, and it was natural 
 that he should desire to place his sons at the same 
 college ; I dare say, too, that the value of the scholar- 
 ship, it's certainly leading to a fellowship, and the 
 good preferment which the College offered, were 
 not without their weight in determining his choice. 
 Moreover, he seems to have maintained personal 
 relations with the governing members of the house. 
 Accordingly, he had trained John for the compe- 
 tition, and a vacancy occurring, he went with him 
 to Oxford in December, 1806. I do not know what 
 opponents John Keble had to encounter, except that 
 he had one distinguished Etonian", but he was suc- 
 cessful ; and on the twelfth of that month was elected 
 
 * Wten I wrote this, I could not recollect with certainty the name 
 of the schoolfellow to whom I allude, but through the kindness of one 
 of his surviving sisters I now know tliat it was James Commeline, and 
 I am glad to insert it. He was a lad of whom Dr. Goodall had a very 
 high opinion, and we all entertained great expectations. Not succeed- 
 ing at Corpus, he went to Cambridge, and was in due time elected 
 a Fellow of St. John's. He was of an unambitious spirit, and retiring 
 habits ; but, as I learn, he fully justified the anticipations of the Head 
 Master, becoming a singularly acciurate and tasteful scholar. It may 
 be interesting to some to know, that among his intimate friends and 
 correspondents was Elizabeth Banett, whom he considered the best 
 Greek scholar he knew. 
 
30 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 Scholar, wanting then more than four months of com- 
 pleting his fifteenth year. 
 
 It is a coincidence perhaps w&rth notice, that Ed- 
 ward Copleston, afterwards Provost of Oriel, and 
 Bishop of Llandaff, was elected at about the same 
 age a Scholar of the same College, having been edu- 
 cated also by his father, a country clergyman, and 
 never sent to any school ; like Keble also in this, 
 that he entered Oxford at this early- age, a youth 
 well advanced in scholarship, and in the practice of 
 easy and accurate composition ; like him, too, in due 
 time he was a distinguished Prize Man, and one of the 
 few who stand out among the Poetry Professors of the 
 University in remarkable and enduring distinction. 
 
 In a chapter which I was allowed to contribute 
 to the deservedly popular " Life of Dr. Arnold" by 
 the Dean of Westminster, I observed that Arnold's 
 character was affected not so much by the autho- 
 rities of the College, as by its constitution and sys- 
 tem, and by the residents whom it was his fortune 
 to associate with there ; and that I should hardly 
 do justice to my subject, unless I stated a few pai:- 
 ticulars, and what I was at liberty to mention as to 
 the latter. This applies with equal truth to Keble, 
 and I venture, therefore, to transfer to this place 
 •what I then wrote, and the rather because the 
 Corpus of their day is now a thing of the past, not 
 remembered by many, and not unworthy of com- 
 memoration : — 
 
Undergraduateship. 1 1 
 
 "Corpus is a very small establishment: twenty Fellows 
 and twenty Scholars, witli four Exhibitioners, form the foun- 
 dation. No independent members were admitted except 
 Gentlemen Commoners, and they were limited to six. Of 
 the Scholars several were Bachelors, and the whole number 
 of Students actually under College tuition seldom exceeded 
 twenty. But the Scholarships, though not entirely open, 
 were yet enough so to admit of much competition : their 
 value, and still more the commendable strictness and im- 
 partiality with which the examinations were conducted, 
 (qualities at that time more rare in college elections than 
 now,) insured a number of good candidates for each va- 
 cancy, and we boasted a more than proportionate share of 
 successful competitors for University honours. It had been 
 generally understood (I know not whether the statutes pre- 
 scribe the practice) that in the examinations a large allow- 
 ance was made for youth; certain it was that we had 
 many very yoxmg candidates, and that of these many, re- 
 markable for early proficiency, succeeded. We were then 
 a small society, the members rather under the usual age, 
 and with more than the ordinary proportion of abih'ty and 
 scholarship; oiu: mode of tuition was in harmony with 
 these cu-cumstances : not by private lectures, but in classes 
 of such a size as excited emulation, and made us careful 
 in the exact and neat rendering of the original ; yet not so 
 numerous as to prevent individual attention on the Tutor's 
 part, and familiar knowledge of each pupil's turn and 
 talents. In addition to the books read in lecture, the Tutor 
 at the beginning of the Term settled with each Student 
 upon some book to be read by himself in private, and pre- 
 pared for the public examination at the end of Term in 
 Hall; and with this book something on paper, either an 
 analysis of it, or remarks upon it, was expected to be 
 
•I 2 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 produced, which ensured that the book should really have 
 been read. It has often struck me since that the whole 
 plan, which is now, I believe, in common use in the Uni- 
 versity, was well devised for the tuition of young men of 
 our age. We were not entirely set free from the leading- 
 strings of the School: accuracy was cared for: we were 
 accustomed to viva voce rendering, and viva voce questions 
 and answers in our lecture-room, before an audience of 
 fellow-students, whom we sufficiently respected; at the 
 same time, the additional reading trusted to ourselves alone, 
 prepared us for accurate private study, and for our final 
 exhibition in the Schools. 
 
 " One result of all these circumstances was, that we lived 
 on the most familiar terms with each other : we might be, 
 indeed we were, somewhat boyish in manner, and in the 
 liberties which we took with each other; but our interest 
 in literature, ancient and modem, and in all the stirring 
 matters of that stirring time was not boyish— we debated 
 the classic and romantic question, we discussed poetry and 
 history, logic and philosophy; or we fought over the Penin- 
 sular battles and the continental campaigns with the energy 
 of persons interested in them. Our habits were inexpen- 
 sive and temperate; one break-up party was held in the 
 Junior Common-room at the end of each Term, in which we 
 indulged our genius more freely; and. our merriment, to say 
 the truth, was somewhat exuberant and noisy ; but tlie au- 
 thorities wisely forebore too strict an enquiry into this. 
 
 " It was one of the happy peculiarities of Corpus that 
 the Bachelor Scholars were compelled to residence. This 
 regulation, seemingly inconvenient, but most wholesome 
 as I cannot but think for tliemselves, and now unwisely 
 relaxed, operated very beneficially on the Undergraduates ; 
 with the best and the most advanced of these, they asso- 
 
Corpus Christi, 1806. 13 
 
 dated very usefully. I speak here with grateful and affec- 
 tionate remembrance of the privileges which I enjoyed in 
 this way." 
 
 In this way, I may now add, that Keble formed 
 one of the closest and most valuable friendships of 
 his life. 
 
 Such was the body into which John Keble was 
 introduced in December, 1806, a mere lad, remark- 
 ably home-bred and home-keeping, who had seen 
 as little of " men and cities," I suppose, as a lad of 
 his age could well have seen ; yet ready at once to 
 take a forward place in the studies, and become 
 a well-accepted member in the society of the col- 
 lege. He was in truth still but a boy, with less of 
 confidence, and knowledge of the world, than would 
 be found commonly in boys of the upper part of 
 the fifth form in any of our Public Schools. Many 
 of his letters to his sisters and brother, written soon 
 after the commencement of his academic life, were 
 preserved, and have been entrusted to me ; they are 
 the simple outpourings of an affectionate, home-loving, 
 and clever boy, with a great deal moreover of that 
 joyous fun and humour, which he never lost entirely 
 even in the most anxious years of his life. I will 
 make but one extract from the very first ; it is curi- 
 ous that he should have commenced by a trouble 
 in being too late for chapel on his first Sunday 
 morning. His father, it seems, was an old friend of 
 Dr. Eveleigh, then the Provost of Oriel ; he had gone 
 
■14 Memoir of tlte Rev. John Keble. 
 
 lip, as I have said, with his son to the election, and 
 the two were entertained at the Oriel Lodge. Writing 
 to his eldest sister, Elizabeth, he says : — 
 
 " I have scarcely begun studying yet this Term — however, 
 there is a lecture appointed for Friday in Mr. Darnell's 
 room— it will be however in a play of Euripides, v/hich I 
 have before read. I tell you this for the edification of 
 Jones and Thomas — I hope they are both good children, 
 and behave well whilst I am gone. 
 
 "I had almost got into a scrape on Sunday momuig, 
 when we were all to be in Chapel. I slept at tlie Provost's 
 that night, and got up in the morning with the intention of 
 . going to chapel — I had even gone to my room to wait for 
 the time of going — yet after all I was too late. This was 
 -o\ving to my having mistaken the bell at Oriel, which 
 goes rather later than Corpus, for the latter. I was quite 
 frightened at first, when I found I was not in time: how- 
 ever, by my father's mediation, I was excused by the Pre- 
 sident for my absence.'' 
 
 Oxford, C.C.C., Jan. 20, 1807. 
 
 In November, 1807, I firid him writing in Latin 
 to his brother, who was then preparing to follow 
 his steps, and contend for a coming vacancy ; 
 he writes with apparent ease, and, so far as I 
 can judge, correctly and elegantly ; and he had 
 then nearly finished ^schylus in the Lecture- 
 room. He was very fortunate in his Tutor, Mr. 
 Darnell, the late Rector of .Stanhope — a man of 
 excellent taste and accurate scholarship, one of 
 those ornaments of Oxford, whom Bishop Barring- 
 
Corpus Christi, 1807. 1 5 
 
 ton in the wise exercise of his great patronage, 
 and profiting by the knowledge of the University, 
 vvhich he had the means of acquiring from his resi- 
 dence at Mongewell, delighted to transplant into 
 places of honour and profit in his own diocese of 
 Durham. Darnell evidently understood and appre- 
 ciated Keble, and cultivated his taste with care ; he 
 lived to be proud of his pupil, and on some occa- 
 sions in after-lif€, when it v/as sought to do him 
 honour, testified to the high opinion which he en- 
 tertained of him. 
 
 In the spring of iSoS, John Keble was probably 
 preparing to compete for- the English Verse prize ; 
 the subject was "Mahomet," and he was not suc- 
 cessful, the prize being awarded to Mr. Rolleston, 
 who had also been successful in the preceding year. 
 The rule had not then been made, which this cir- 
 cumstance caused to be laid down, that no once 
 successful candidate should compete for the same 
 prize a second time ; Keble understood that had it 
 then existed, the prize would have been awarded to 
 him. Of this poem I find an extract in my " Silva," 
 but I will not insert it liere, for it would give a wrong 
 impression of his general compositions of the same 
 date ; it was evidently written after the style of Eng- 
 lish prize poems of that day, brilliant and flowing, 
 but with no great originality of thought. 
 
 He wrote for other prizes during his undergra- 
 duateship, but was never successful; it is evident 
 
1 6 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 from his letters to his father, who was in his entire 
 confidence in these, as in all other matters, and to 
 whom he seems to have submitted all he wrote for 
 his criticism, that he was too much distracted by the 
 labour necessary for preparing to try for the First 
 Class both in Classics and Mathematics ; but in no- 
 thing was the difference of age so likely to stand in 
 his way as in these competitions. I had the good 
 fortune once to be successful against him, but I was 
 two years his senior, and had had the advantage 
 of six years' training at Eton. 
 
 I was myself elected a Scholar in April, 1809. 
 I found Keble in his third year highly distinguished 
 in the senior classes of the college, both in Classics 
 and Mathematics. Darnell was no longer Tutor, 
 nor in residence, he had been succeeded by George 
 Leigh Cooke. It is no disparagement of this excel- 
 lent man to say that he was not equal to his emi- 
 nent predecessor in scholarship or taste ; but he was 
 inferior to no man in industry, or zeal, good common 
 sense, patience, and excellent temper, to all which 
 he joined a genuine sense of humour, and delightful 
 simplicity of manner. As my whole undergraduate- 
 ship was passed under his tuition, and as I owed 
 much of whatever success I had to his care, I 
 .should be ungrateful if I missed this opportunity of 
 expressing the gratitude which I feel towards him. 
 He has long passed out of this life, and, owing to 
 my election to a Fellowship at another college, and 
 
Corpus Christi, 1810-11. 17 
 
 my early departure from residence, our intercourse 
 was only occasional; but my friendly relations with 
 my old Tutor only ceased with his life. For what 
 remained of Keble's preparation for the Schools, 
 he and I were in the same class, and he found in 
 Cooke a most useful Tutor, sparing no pains in 
 completing the work which Darnell had more than 
 laid the foundation of. 
 
 I was soon upon terms of familiarity with Keble, 
 which rapidly ripened into friendship. We became 
 correspondents in 181 1. We lived on the same 
 staircase, he in a garret over my rooms. I see 
 now his seat by the fireside, and a cupboard con- 
 veniently near; into which it was said that in the 
 early times, when he had hardly courage to resolve on 
 trying for the First Class in both Schools, he would 
 convey his Principia rather rudely and hastily, if 
 an intruder broke in upon his study of them ; which 
 he pursued at that time, to use a slang term, " on the 
 sly." Although I was so much inferior to him in 
 many respects, and so much his junior in stand- 
 ing, yet I was his senior in age, and I came from 
 intimate and improving intercourse at Eton with 
 some of the ablest and most studious boys in the 
 school, and I was able at least to appreciate his 
 mind and acquirements. We saw a great deal of 
 each other. This was a period when the Lake 
 Poets, as they were called, and especially Words- 
 worth and my Uncle, had scarcely any place in 
 
 C 
 
1 8 Memoir of the Rev. John Kehle. 
 
 the literature of the country, except as a mark for 
 the satire of some real wits, and some mis-named 
 critics of considerable repute. I possessed, the gift of 
 my Uncle, the "Lyrical Ballads," and "Wordsworth's 
 Poems," (these last in the first edition). It is among 
 the pleasant recollections of my life, that I first 
 made the great poet known to Keble. As might 
 have been expected, he read him with avidity ; the 
 admiration for his poetry, which he conceived in 
 youth, never waned in after life; indeed, when he 
 came to know the man it was augmented, I may ra- 
 ther say completed, by the respect and regard which 
 his character inspired. It was hardly possible for 
 Keble to be a .very enthusiastic admirer of any 
 poetry, unless he had at least conceived a good 
 opinion of the writer. I may say, in passing, that 
 Wordsworth's admiration of the author of " The Chris- 
 tian Year," and the volume itself, was in after life very 
 warm ; there were few of the many tributes which 
 he received, which he set a greater value on, than 
 the mention made of him by Keble in the Theatre 
 at, Oxford, when he received his honorary degree; 
 and the dedication to him of the Prcslectiones. 
 
 In 1810 and 1811 respectively, George J. Cornish 
 and Thomas Arnold were elected Scholars, the former 
 from Westminster, the latter from Winchester. I 
 think neither of them could have been in the lecture- 
 room with Keble, but they became fully accepted 
 members of our society, and on intimate terms with 
 
Corpus Christi, 1809. 19 
 
 liim. Of the latter I surely need say nothing gene- 
 rally — nor wiU I repeat what I have said elsewhere 
 of the unhappy interruption of his intimate inter- 
 course with Keble ; to both it was a bitter trial, and 
 I am sure that in neither did it extinguish the ten- 
 •derest love for the other. Both Cornish and Arnold 
 were great accessions to our society. I must yet add 
 to this list the mention of six others, Noel Thomas 
 Ellison, afterwards Fellow and Tutor of Balliol, John 
 Tucker, T. Trevenen Penrose, John Bartholomew, 
 William Henry Turner, and Charles Dyson ; the first 
 of these was elected to a Durham Scholarship at the 
 same time at vvhich I was elected, and the last two 
 I found in residence as Bachelors when I joined the 
 College ; of Cornish and Dyson it will be part of my 
 plan to say a few words more in detail. Tucker 
 and Turner, I am happy to say, survive. Of Ellison 
 I must say in ■ passing, that joined to considerable 
 talents, he had an originality and earnest simplicity 
 of'inanner as well as warmth of heart, which made 
 hini a most dehghtful companion and loved friend. 
 Balliol men will never forget that he was one of those 
 who, succeeding as Tutor to the late Master, carried 
 on the system which has raised that College to its 
 present eminfence, with a zeal, and genial hearti- 
 ness, that could not but contribute largely to its 
 success. There is a sonnet among Keble's miscella- 
 neous poems, written on a visit to him at Huntspill, 
 which at once testifies to Keble's love of him, and 
 
20 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 paints with a single felicitous touch the winning" 
 character of the man. 
 
 Thus I have named a few of those who formed 
 our small circle, and looking back through the me- 
 dium of affection and regret, seeing everything dis- 
 tance-mellowed and softened, perhaps glorified, I 
 may exaggerate our activity in the studies of the 
 place, the simplicity and ease of our social inter- 
 course, the delights of our walks, and the intellec- 
 tual interest of our earnest talks together. I may 
 exaggerate, but I do not invent ; and one proof 
 I think is this, that although many of us were soon 
 scattered to fellowships in other Colleges, and took 
 different courses in life, became immersed in other 
 cares, and pursued different professions, in one 
 thing we all agreed — our hearty love and prefer- 
 ence for Corpus Christi, and the looking back with 
 unmixed and undiminishing delight on the days we 
 passed together within her walls. Keble gave ut- 
 terance to his feelings, when he quitted it, in the 
 following lines, which can have no more appropriate 
 place than here : — 
 
 " How soft, how silent, has the stream of Time 
 Borne me unheeding on, since first I dream'd 
 Of Poetry and Glory in thy shade, 
 Scene of my earliest harpings. There, if oft, 
 (As through thy courts I took my nightly round, 
 Where thy embattled line of shadows hid 
 The moon's white glimmerings) on my charmed ear, 
 
Corpus Christ i, 1811. 2i 
 
 Have swelled of thy triumpliant minstrelsy 
 Some few faint notes : if one exuJtiTjg chord 
 Of my touched heart has thrill'd in unison, 
 Shall I not cling unto thee ? Shall I cast 
 No strained glance on my adopted home 
 Departing? Seat of calm delight, farewell ! 
 Home of my muse, and of my friends ! I ne'er 
 Shall see thee, but with such a gush of soul 
 As flows from him, who welcomes some dear face 
 Lost in his childhood — ^yet not lost to me 
 Art thou ; for still my heart exults to own thee. 
 And memory still, and friendship make thee mine." 
 June2T, 1811. 
 
 The insertion of these verses reminds me that 
 I had brought from Eton the practice of the set to 
 which I belonged, of keeping each a " Silva" (as we 
 ventured to call it), into which we transcribed, among 
 other and better but not more valued things, our own 
 ■efforts in prose and verse. Keble and Arnold adopted 
 it, and to this may be owing the preservation of a 
 great many of their youthful poems. It may well 
 be believed, that I turn over those yellow. pages 
 now and then with intense interest ; and although, 
 no doubt, I regard the compositions with too much 
 partiality for a critic, yet I think I may safely say 
 that they bear unanswerable testimony to the taste 
 and scholarship, as well as the original ability, of 
 some at least of the students of that day. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 JOHN MILLER. — GEORGE JAMES CORNISH. — 
 CHARLES DYSON. 
 
 N placing these three names at the head of this 
 chapter, and devoting it to a short account of 
 them, I am not unmindful of Cowper's clever warn- 
 ing against framing records of "names of little 
 note;" nor does it escape me that I may seem to 
 depart frQm my proper subject. But Keble's cha- 
 racter through life was but a strict development of 
 his character in youth ; and his early friendships 
 were among the more powerful agents in its forma- 
 tion. His disposition was social, Iiis affections very 
 warm, breaking through the restraint of his natural 
 shyness ; and although his purity of spirit secured 
 him from loving any one wholly unworthy of his 
 love, yet his humility was so great that he was apt 
 not merely to undervalue himself, but to overvalue 
 whatever there was of good or great in those whom 
 he loved. It may easily be understood, therefore, 
 how open he was to influences from his friendships, 
 and how enduring his friendships were. 
 
 I think it well on these grounds to select the three 
 of all whom I am at liberty to mention, whom he 
 seemed to me to love most dearly among his asso- 
 
yohn Miller. 23 
 
 dates while an Undergraduate, and who in different 
 ways and degrees most influenced his habitual way 
 of thinking and feeling in after life. They are the 
 three whose names I have prefixed to this chapter. 
 
 John Miller was not a Corpus man, but of Wor- 
 cester College, and in what way Keble first became 
 acquainted with him, I cannot now state. He had 
 passed his examination, and been placed in the 
 First Class in Classics a year before I came to Ox- 
 ford, and I think I met him for the first time in 
 the year ,1810 in the Theatre. He had gained the Ba- 
 chelor's Prize then newly instituted by Lord Grenville 
 for Latin Prose, and I had been fortunate enough to 
 win the Undergraduate's for Latin Verse. Thence- 
 forward through life he treated me with the greatest 
 kindness, and I could not but love and honour him 
 more and more the longer I knew him. But with 
 Keble his relations were more close, and from an 
 earlier period ; as young men they had so much in 
 common, in their habits, and characters, and in their 
 simplicity of manner and original humour, that when 
 thrown together they could not well escape an inti- 
 miate friendship ; and as they walked on in the path 
 of that profession to which they were both devoted, 
 there was on almost all points such agreement as 
 to its obligations, and the manner of discharging: 
 them, as well as to the various questions which 
 from' time to, time agitated Churchmen, that the 
 early friendship could not but endure and ripen into 
 
24 Memoir of the Rev. John Kehle. 
 
 the closest intimacy. Keble, indeed, was sure to re- 
 gard Miller with reverence, and he always spoke 
 and wrote of him with that feeling on his mind ; 
 but this did not prevent them from genial merri- 
 ment and familiarity when they met. Those were, 
 indeed, white days to Keble ; here and there through 
 his correspondence the visits of Miller to Fairford, 
 or their meetings elsewhere, are mentioned with real 
 delight. It is thus that he speaks of him in a 
 letter to Cornish, dated from Fairford, Sept. 22, 
 1818:— 
 
 "We have got good Miller regularly settled, I do not 
 mean married, only fifteen miles from us, in one of the 
 prettiest little ravines in the chalk escarpment beyond 
 Highworth, nearly in a line from us ; and the church, 
 close to which stands his parsonage, is a pattern of neat- 
 ness; it has, moreover, one of the prettiest Saxon door- 
 ways I ever saw. Tom and I pilgrimed it over there tlie 
 other day, and found Hooker and his father and sister at 
 home, but thank God no Joan to mar the quietness of the 
 family party, which was just what you would expect. You 
 must come and see us and him. I assure you he enquired 
 after you very particularly. What a book his is, (he al- 
 ludes to the Bampton Lectures); the more I go on pon- 
 dering it, the more light it seems to throw on every sub- 
 ject, and hardly any thing else that I take up tliat does 
 not put me in mind of it. If I must jure into any man's 
 verbs, I think on the whole it would be his." 
 
 Miller, like Keble, retired early from Oxford into 
 
John Miller. 25 
 
 the country, and, except when he returned at inter- 
 vals at the request of his College to assist for a time 
 in the tuition, he passed his days residing with his 
 father, or his brother and sister, devoted to the duties 
 of his profession, and always in rural parishes. He fell 
 asleep in 1858, after a short illness, in his seventy-first 
 year, and was laid by the side of his brother, in his 
 own quiet churchyard, lamented not least by those 
 among whom he had ministered for so many years ; 
 who, (as has been well said in a short memoir to 
 which I am much indebted,) however incompetent 
 to form a judgment of him in other respects, were 
 fully able to estimate his worth as a " Christian 
 minister, a neighbour, and a man." The " other re- 
 spects" here mentioned refer to his published works ; 
 there were several of these, the most important the 
 Bampton Lectures for 1817; and a volume of Ser- 
 mons published in 1830. The ordinary fate of pub- 
 lished sermons is almost proverbial, and I fear these 
 have not escaped it ; but they are of remarkable 
 merit, and I am sure will richly repay the study of 
 any reader. Both have received testimonials as unsus- 
 picious as they are valuable. In the " Life and Cor- 
 respondence of Bishop Jebb" is a letter from him, 
 in which he first shortly expresses in the strongest 
 terms the general impression which the Lectures 
 had made on him, and then goes through a long 
 and minute examination of them, expressing dif- 
 ferences of opinion as to several particulars, but de- 
 
26 Memoir of tJie Rev. John Keble. 
 
 tracting nothing from his general admiration. Of 
 the Sermons, Robert Southey writes : — 
 
 " These are, in the true sense of a word which has been 
 most lamentably misapplied, EvangelicaL I do not know 
 any discourses in which revealed truths and divine philo- 
 sophy are brought home with such practical effect to all 
 men. They have the rare merit of being at the same time 
 thoroughly intelligible, thoroughly religious, thoroughly 
 discreet °." 
 
 In another letter he says of them : — • 
 
 "They are unhke any others which I have ever read. 
 They are thoroughly Christian in their spirit, and philo- 
 sophical, comprehensible by the plainest understanding, 
 and as satisfactory to the judgment as they are to the 
 feelings ''." 
 
 These are testimonies to which of course I add 
 nothing of my own ; but I will mention two other 
 small but very interesting publications by him, "A 
 Christian Guide for Plain People," published in 1820^ 
 and " Things after Death," of which the second edi- 
 tion was published in 1854. Of the former of these 
 two, Keble says this in a letter to me of April, 
 1820: — 
 
 " Heave you read a little publication of Miller's which I 
 sent to James Coleridge, and if you have, how do you like 
 it ? MiUer has been quite unwell since he wrote it, and we 
 
 * Southey's "Life and Correspondence," voL vi. p. 90, ' Ibid. 
 
John Miller. 2J- 
 
 began to be rather alarmed about him ; 'chiefly, I believe, 
 on the notion that he was too good to live; but I am 
 thankful to say that he is now much better. Perhaps you 
 do not know that he is in part returned to College, as he 
 comes up for the last three weeks of every Term to Col- 
 lectionize. And from this, and his being situated within 
 fifteen miles of us in the country, I hope to see more and 
 more of him ; and if I am not very much the better for 
 doing so, I know whose fault it must be. Lest you should 
 think his style in this new book too obscure for the ' Plain 
 People,' I must tell you that he made Moliere's experiment ; 
 for he gave the Sermons to his servant, quite a rustic lad, 
 to read before he printed them, and the man said he under- 
 stood them all except the fifth, which accordingly M. made 
 plainer, till the youth professed himself satisfied with it. 
 And his father, the Clerk of the Parish, had given the 
 greatest proof of his understanding even of this the ob- 
 scurest part, for he said to Miller, ' O yes, Sir, I see what 
 you mean, you mean such and such people (naming them) 
 by the one of your two classes, and such and such by the 
 other.' Now, as it happened, the Sermons were written 
 while M. was in Herefordshire, before ever he had set his 
 eyes on the said people. I call this a very satisfactory 
 experiment, quite as much so as most of Sir Humphrey 
 Davy's ; and it seems to estabHsh, what I have long wished 
 to believe, and am now almost convinced of, viz. that poor 
 people, generally speaking, have much greater understanding 
 of what we say to them, than most of us are apt to fancy ; 
 in short, that ignorance as well as infidelity comes more 
 from the heart than from the head." 
 
 I Ihink I shall be forgiven for adding what he 
 
Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 wrote on the same subject, about the same time, 
 to Dyson, who was then an incumbent in York- 
 shire : — 
 
 " I wish I could send you a httle book which Miller has 
 just published, called a Christian Guide for Plain (not ugly) 
 People. It seems to me to be just what we want; but 
 Parker apparently does not think well of its sale, as he 
 has only printed 500 copies of it. The worst of it is, that 
 people are determined beforehand to fancy every thing 
 Miller writes so very hard to understand. Do you not 
 think there is a great deal of laziness in that kind of ob- 
 jection, urged as we continually hear it against both Di- 
 vinity and Poetry ? Miller, however, has done more than 
 most men to secure this book's being intelligible to those 
 for whom it is written, for he made his servant read it, like 
 Mohere rehearsing his plays to the old woman, and altered 
 some places which he did not understand, but found him 
 perfectly up to the general drift of it. I wonder whether 
 people that write tracts for the poor generally take this 
 method ; it seems mere common sense for them to do so, 
 and yet one can hardly think they do. One thing is, the 
 poor certainly understand the meaning of a sentence very 
 often when they could not for their lives explain the single 
 words of which it is made up ; and if I find it so in Glou- 
 cestershire, which is a mere Boeotia, much more, I ween, do 
 you in Yorkshire, which is so famed for the shrewdness of 
 its rustics.'' 
 
 This was the man between whom and Keble the 
 closest communion of feelings and principles existed. 
 They were strikingly alike in the warmth of their 
 
George James Cornish. 29 
 
 home affections, in their early and absolute renun^ 
 ciation of the honours of the world, in their devo- 
 tion to their profession from the very beginning, 
 and always in the most quiet and humble line in 
 which its duties could be presented to them; alike, 
 too, in this, that retired as were their lives, their 
 interest was sensibly alive as to all the questions 
 which from time to time arose and affected the 
 Church ; upon these they never failed to take counsel 
 together, and they spared no pains to advance what 
 they deemed her true interests. 
 
 I had known Cornish, who was born at Ottery 
 St. Mary, June 7, 1794, from his childhood well; 
 we separated as boys, he for Westminster, and I for 
 Eton, and we met again upon his election as Scholar 
 in 1 8 10. He had grown to be a young man of very 
 gentlemanly appearance, with somewhat of reserve, 
 and what might almost be taken for haughtiness in 
 his manner; this was in reality the result of great 
 refinement of feeling and of shyness. No one, indeed, 
 had less of haughtiness in his nature ; he was very 
 modest, of keen sensibilities, and accurate taste ; 
 and these rather than great vigour, or power of sus- 
 tained application, were the characteristics of his 
 intellect. He was pure-hearted as a child, and very 
 affectionate ; his' seeming coldness soon yielded to 
 the kindness of his reception amongst us; and his 
 
so Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 geniality with a kind of Cervantic humour, which 
 he often displayed very amusingly, made him soon 
 a great favourite. He was just the person to attract 
 Keble's love ; and I see in their correspondence to 
 the end of his life the tenderness in Keble and 
 somewhat of the manner of an elder brother to- 
 wards him. This tenderness, in kind as well as in 
 degree, extended itself to the other members of 
 his family, and to his widow; and children after his 
 death. He was placed iA the First Class for Clas- 
 sics at the Michaelmas Examination for 1813, and 
 in due course became Fellow, and afterwards Tutor 
 of the College ; but the University life was not to 
 his taste. He, too, had devoted himself to pastoral 
 duty, and having married early, he retired to the 
 curacy of Salcombe, near to Salcombe Hill, his 
 father's house ; he dwelt after a time at Packcombe, 
 a sweet secluded cottage in the hills at a little dis- 
 tance. But he was not a man to be overlooked, 
 and at Michaelmas, 1828, he was collated by his old 
 master. Bishop Carey, to the united Vicarages of Ken- 
 wyn and Kea, a large and important Cure in Corn- 
 wall. Here he acquired high estimation in the dio- 
 cese, and was clearly marked out for advancement; 
 but his health, never strong, and too severely tried 
 by losses of his children, and by family afflictions, 
 gave way, and he died in the prime of life, Sept. 
 10, 1849, dearly loved, highly honoured, and tenderly 
 -lamented. 
 
George James Cornish. 3 1 
 
 It was thus that Keble wrote respecting his illness 
 and death to Dyson : — 
 
 " So I missed seeing him once more, and the last time 
 was at our consecration. It is such a comfort to me to 
 think of him here, with old Tom, Coleridge, and others. 
 About him it seems purely selfish to grieve. Yet one does 
 grieve very much ; one feels that this world can never be 
 the same without him; the things which he would have 
 said, or thought, on different occasions, come so naturally 
 into one's mind 
 
 " What a time it seems since we have met, and how much 
 I seem to have to say ! but I don't like saying it now, be- 
 -cause it is not all about him." 
 
 Then at the close of his note, he adds : — 
 
 ^^ Private. My dear Dyson, do ask for me that I may 
 meet him again. . . . Ever your most loving J. K." 
 
 The reader . of " The Christian Year" must have 
 been thankful to Keble for appending to the stanzas 
 -on the Twenty-first Sunday after Trinity the exqui- 
 site little poem to the Redbreast. It is by Cornish. 
 He was one of tlie band of friends who were from 
 time to time interchanging amongst each other their 
 compositions. He continued to write, as occasions 
 moved him, as long as he lived. Upc«i his death, 
 at the request of his parishioners, a volume of his 
 sermons was printed, and to this, by the desire of 
 ijome of his friends, was appended a selection from 
 these verses. I have cAen wished, and I still wish, 
 that these last had been published in a separate small 
 
32 Memoir of the Rev. John Kehle. 
 
 volume. The sermons have much merit, and must 
 have been a valued and appropriate present to his 
 parishioners ; but, as commonly happens with ser- 
 mons, their circulation was not large, and was limited, 
 I think, to a single edition. Unfortunately they 
 buried the poems, which deserve another fate, un- 
 less I am deceived by my love for the author, and 
 my familiarity with some of the scenes and persons 
 alluded to in them. I own I can never read several 
 of them without being much affected, and I do not 
 think I am in error when I say that they are so 
 tasteful and finished in composition, so imaginative, 
 so true, and so full of genuine tenderness, that they 
 would give pleasure to a larger circle if they were 
 more generally known. I do not wholly despair that 
 this may yet be done ; and I could I believe add 
 some which might well have a place among them. 
 I will insert a specimen conceived in the same spirit 
 as the lines on the Redbreast. 
 
 Come io the Woods. 
 
 When the hour of meeting's nigh, 
 And thy heart is beating high. 
 
 Come to the woods, the woods, lad. 
 And if tlie boughs are ringing, 
 With all their minstrels singing, 
 Do thou, too, rejoice. 
 And utter a voice 
 More glad. 
 
George James Cornish. 33 
 
 Or if on Winter's tide 
 
 Floats Autumn's wither'd pride, 
 
 Come to the woods, the woods, lad, 
 "Why should the bard be dumb ? 
 'Tis meet that thou shouldst come 
 Their Spring gifts to repay, 
 And make the pale day 
 Less sad. 
 
 The Poems already published are so little known, 
 I fear, that I will venture to add one from them : — 
 
 Dreams. 
 
 My dearest love, to whom I owe 
 
 That I am whatsoe'er I be ; 
 Whose sun-lit eye, in hours of woe, 
 
 Has bid the darkest shadows flee ; 
 Whose steady step the path pursued, 
 That from afar thy wisdom viewed ; — 
 
 If brightest promise disappear, 
 
 Joy after joy perchance decay, 
 I still can dry the flowing tear. 
 
 All thankful for the joys that stay ; 
 For Mercy and eternal Truth 
 Surely have followed me from youth. 
 
 Only, " my life's celestial sign," 
 
 Thy presence must be with me still j 
 
 The rest I freely can resign, 
 Obedient to the Master's will. 
 
 Not thee ! not thee ! my anguished heart. 
 
 Not yet from thee has learnt to part. 
 D 
 
34 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 And yet Life's fairest hours are fled, 
 
 The latter sands too plainly run ; 
 And Time his early snow to shed 
 
 Upon our brows has now begun ; 
 And swifter does the torrent flow, 
 Ere yet it seek the gulf below. 
 
 Hence, idle dreams ! the day is ours. 
 
 And we will " work while it is day," 
 And consecrating all our powers 
 
 To God, and, 'living as we pray, 
 In calmness wait His power to prove, 
 Whose knowledge but subserves His love. 
 
 'May, 1845. 
 
 I might have hesitated to reprint these stanzas, but 
 that since I commenced this little notice of the hus- 
 band, the wife to whom -they are addressed has been 
 called to her rest. I am at liberty now to say, that 
 there is not a syllable of exaggeration in this out- 
 pouring of love ; it is but justice to the wife from 
 the husband, vi\\o had tried and never found her 
 wanting. His was a nature which required support, 
 ^nd, as- I have said, he was severely tried ; beyond 
 liis own immediate circle, he had painful sorrows; 
 •within it he lost child after child; and though he 
 ibowed in Christian submission to the blows, his sen- 
 sitive nature could not sustain them without injury. 
 In all these sorrows she was his earthly stay and 
 .comfort. He idled; ^and what she had been to 
 liim, she continued to be to her children, until her 
 
Charles Dyson. 35 
 
 strength failed under the severity, and the continu- 
 ance of the calls made on it, and she departed in 
 peace. She was, indeed, what in one of his poems 
 lie calls her, a noble woman. 
 
 I have felt it to be no departure from m.y main 
 ■object to dwell for a little while on the memory of 
 John Miller and George Cornish. In respect of 
 Charles Dyson, I may say, with the strictest ac- 
 curacy, that no memoir of Keble, however short, 
 could be complete which omitted to give some idea 
 of this dear friend. Perhaps no man of equal vir- 
 tue, sweetness, cultivation, and ability, ever passed 
 through life so little known beyond the circle of his 
 own family and friends ; and yet I think no man was 
 ever more loved and revered within that circle, or 
 exercised a more powerful influence over the minds 
 ■of those with whom he was intimate. Keble was 
 among these; the intimacy commenced, as I have 
 said, at Corpus, and continued to the end of Dy- 
 son's life unbroken ; and I speak with substan- 
 tial accuracy when I say that there was scarcely 
 a step which he took, especially in matters connected 
 with his profession, or the Church, to which he did 
 not make Dyson first privy, aslc his co-operation, if 
 the thing admitted of it, and always seek, if he did 
 not always follow, his adyice. The ;ex;tracts from 
 the correspondence, v.'hich I shall have occasion to 
 
36 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 make, will shew this in numerous instances. It 
 may suffice now to say, that it was Dyson veiy 
 mainly who overcame his reluctance to publish 
 " The Christian Year," and to whom, perhaps, above 
 all his other friends, the world owes that great gift 
 when it was first made. 
 
 Charles Dyson was the grandson of the Jeremiah 
 Dyson of whom Johnson in his life of Akenside re- 
 cords, that the poet physician "would perhaps have 
 been reduced to great exigencies, but that Mr. Dyson, 
 with an ardour of friendship that has not many ex- 
 amples, allowed him three hundred pounds a-year ;" 
 munificence indeed, when the times and Mr. Dyson's 
 own means are considered. Dyson once said to me, 
 " My grandfather was satyrized by Horace Walpole, 
 but he was a noble fellow; he would not sell the 
 places at the table of the House of Commons, as 
 his predecessors always did, but appointed Hatsell 
 freely, losing ;^6,ooo thereby, and Hatsell in con- 
 sequence appointed my father freely." His son Jere- 
 miah followed his steps in the House, and finally 
 filled the same post there ; and it was intended that 
 his grandson, of whom I write, should pursue the 
 same course ; but this from the most generous mo- 
 tives he abandoned, and then resolutely and earn- 
 estly devoted himself to the Church. 
 
 When I entered the College, he had already taken 
 his Bachelor's degree ; he was, however, still a re- 
 gular resident according to the College rule, and 
 
Charles Dyson. 37 
 
 was one of the kindly party who greeted me on my 
 admission into the Junior Common-room. Keble 
 and he were already on friendly terms, and I was 
 happy enough to be soon admitted to the same 
 privilege. Delicacy of constitution, and principle 
 equally made him a very abstinent man, but he 
 was by disposition social ; his father's position, and 
 the society with which he associated at his hom^e, 
 his more frequent visits to London, the extent and 
 variety of his reading, and information, might have 
 made him much regarded by us who were younger, 
 and had seen less of the world ; but he added to all 
 these advantages such sweetness of temper, and so 
 much quiet humour, as made his society eagerly 
 coveted. Drinking tea in his room, two or three 
 of us at a time, was a great delight. I smile when 
 I remember how we thought of his tea from Twi- 
 nings, and his wax lights ; luxuries or refinements 
 which in our day, or at least in our College, were 
 not commonly indulged in. He was very fond of 
 coming out late at night and pacing up and down 
 our little quadrangle ; many and many a happy talk 
 have Keble and I had with him in this way; to 
 which, I think, he alludes in the verses which I just 
 now quoted. 
 
 He became a Fellow of the College; and was 
 elected Anglo-Saxon Professor in 1812 ; one ad- 
 mirable lecture, and one only, he delivered. He 
 ought, no doubt, to have done more, but in those 
 
38 Memoir of the Rev. John Kehle. 
 
 days the duties of such professorships were not re- 
 garded as they now are. He could not be called ai> 
 indolent man, for he was always rather a laborious 
 student ; but he had a nice, even fastidious, taste \vt 
 composition, and he was very conscientious in his- 
 preparation for any work, a severe judge of his own 
 performances, and never thought himself fully pre- 
 pared to be a public teacher. He ought to have 
 been a great ecclesiastical historian. Keble repeat- 
 edly urged him to this, and he commenced his pre- 
 parations, but so conscientiously and on so large 
 a scale that the days of health and vigour passed 
 away in making them ; and when his pen should 
 have been in his handy and his work begun, his con- 
 stitution gave signals of weakness, and bis strength 
 failed him. 
 
 He married his cousin, and retired to the living 
 
 ' of Nun Burnholme, in Yorkshire, to which he had 
 been collated by Archbishop Harcourt, a friend of 
 his father's. The severity of the climate affected 
 Mrs. Dyson's health, and this led him for a time ta 
 return to Oxford, as one of the Chaplains of his 
 College. T'^e libraries of the University and its 
 society no doubt contributed to this choice. He 
 exchanged Nun Burnholme finally for Nazing, in 
 Essex, and this again he resigned in order to devote 
 
 himself to the care and comfort of his father, who,. 
 
 in somewhat declining heailth, had become a second 
 
 time a widower, and was then residing at Petworth.. 
 
diaries Dyson. 39 
 
 There were family circumstances which seemed ta 
 cast this duty on him specially, into which it is. unne- 
 cessary for me to enter ; but Dyson had his scruples- 
 as to the resignation of his living, and consulted' 
 Keble upon it, whose answer was, " All I can say is, 
 I have given up my Curacy in order to take charge 
 of my father and sister." Dyson, however, was con- 
 stantly at the service of the neighbouring clergy; 
 and, indeed, for a part of the time, took a Curacy 
 near. His father died in the autumn of 1835, about 
 the time of Keble's marriage ; and I insert here an 
 extract from the letter to Dyson and Mrs. Dyson, 
 in which he acknowledges their congratulations on 
 his own marriage, and expresses his condolence 
 on Mr. Dyson's death. This letter happens to con- 
 tain a fuller expression of his judgment on the 
 resignation of his living. 
 
 '"High-street, Southampton, Nov. 5, 1835. 
 
 " My very dear Friends, 
 
 " It is inexcusably selfish to go on so long without acknow- 
 ledging your great kindness in thinking of us at such a time 
 so much and so kindly, and without assuring you that we 
 have not been unmindful of you ; though, indeed, it was 
 a good while before we heard the news of your irreparable 
 loss, for we had no letter that succeeded in overtaking us 
 for ten days after our flight from Gloucestershire. It is 
 a strange sort of feeling that one has in thus interchanging 
 congratulations and condolences, and the perplexity of it^ 
 if it were not for that end to which we trust both will help 
 
40 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 in guiding us, would be not a little painful ; as it is, I hope' 
 we may say, without presumption, that even to our half 
 blind eyes the good very much preponderates. It is sweet 
 to think of the rich reward you have even already received, 
 for coming when you did to stay where you did, and most 
 refreshing to hear that your dear sister bears this second 
 great trial so well, — a blessing which, under Providence, 
 you may surely attribute to your taking the step you did. 
 Seldom, indeed, I should think (if one may say so without 
 presumption), is approbation of living man's conduct more 
 clearly intimated. What you say of looking for a cure in 
 Hampshire (for Elizabeth has sent it to us), quite makes 
 one ache with the pleasant fancy (one dares not nurse it 
 into a hope) of your coming near us." 
 
 Dyson now quitted Petvvorth ; he was anxious to 
 resume his professional duties in the care of a parish, 
 and was seeking for a curacy, when the late Dowagef 
 Lady Mildmay, who had been a family friend, pre- 
 sented him to the rectory of Dogmersfield. Thither 
 he repaired. At his own expense he built a par 
 sonage, for he would not impose a burthen on a 
 family living by borrowing the money for the pur- 
 pose ; and helped his sister, who thenceforth resided 
 with him, in building a new parish church. Both 
 were placed in situations more convenient than the 
 old ones, for the larger and poorer part of his 
 parishioners. At Dogmersfield he resided for the 
 remainder of his life. My readers may smile at my 
 stating the nicknames he bore among his intimate 
 friends, but they were characteristic of the man, and 
 
Charles Dyson. 41 
 
 will re-appear, it may be often, in Keble's letters. At 
 Corpus he took by inheritance from his grandfather 
 and father the familiar abbreviation of Jeremiah, and 
 acquired for himself the title of the Venerable Bede ; 
 at Dogmersfield he became the Simorg, and the Rec- 
 tory was of course his Nest. And truly it was a nest, 
 in which the doubtful and distressed never failed to 
 find comfort and counsel, the cheeriest comfort, the 
 wisest counsel. His society and conversation were 
 delightful ; in his talk such a happy mixture of things 
 old and new, enriched with so much anecdote and 
 literature, so grave and so charitable on serious sub- 
 jects, and on all so seasoned with quiet humour in 
 the manner. Retiring from notice and unknown to 
 the world, discharging his duties in the quietest and 
 most peaceful spirit, he was yet to all who knew him 
 an object of loving veneration. Adventures in his life 
 there were none to tell. He was a diligent pastor, 
 an earnest student, a delightful host ; his greatest 
 pleasure beyond what these things implied was in 
 seeing country at home and abroad. As soon as the 
 Continent opened in 18 14, I accompanied him part 
 way in a tour into France, Switzerland, and Italy, with 
 two brothers, Nathanael and Noel Ellison. In a large 
 old family coach, with the same pair of horses we 
 went through the heart of France with great delibera- 
 tion to Lyons, and thence up the Rhone to Geneva, — 
 happy days which I still delight to think on. Keble 
 was to have been of the party, but was prevented. 
 
42 Memoir of the Rev. jFelm Kchle. 
 
 Arnold says in a letter to me ", " I saw Dyson 
 the other day in Oxford when I went to taJte my 
 degree of B.D., and he and his wife were enomgh 
 to freshen one's spirit for some time to come," an 
 observation strikingly characteristic of the effect of 
 intercourse with him. When Keble had become Vicar 
 of Hursley, Dyson and he were within easy distance 
 of each other on the same line of railway ; the one^ 
 however, had many engagements at home and abroad, 
 and Mrs. Keble's health required his close attendance 
 on her often, and sometimes for long periods ; the 
 delicacy of the other's constitution made movements 
 from home not easy always to him ; yet personally 
 or by letter seldom or never did the one take any 
 step of importance without seeking counsel at the 
 hand of the other, and every now and then they had 
 joyous and remembered meetings. Numerous was 
 the band which gathered round Dyson's grave when 
 it pleased God to call him home. I well remember 
 that after the funeral and the dispersion of the 
 general body of attendants on it, Keble and I 
 passed the afternoon until it was necessary for him 
 to return home, stroUing together in the fields near 
 the house and church, conversing, as we had not 
 often an opportunity to do, on the past and the 
 future. 
 
 The last time I saw Dyson was toward the end of 
 
 ° "Life," vol. i. p. 73. 
 
Charles Dyson. 43., 
 
 February, i860. I found him altered in appearance,, 
 feebler in body, and manifestly declining. Yet the- 
 approaches to death were so soft and gentle, and he 
 contemplated his end so peacefully and hopefully, . 
 that it was not a painful subject to talk about, and; 
 we talked much of it. Among other things I remem- 
 ber we conversed on the intermediate state and the- 
 condition of the blessed. I asked him, " When your 
 mind has been running on these subjects, have you 
 ever followed the thought on as to literature or in- 
 tellect } Will Shakespeare be anything there beyond 
 humbler men i"' He said, " I remember years ago 
 we discussed this in my rooms at Corpus. I believe 
 I was for some superiority for cultivated intellect,, 
 but I think now it is the affections of the heart that 
 will be the test of superiority. Many a humble per- 
 son of whom we know nothing now, will be called up • 
 from the lowest place to sit down on high. Abdiel. 
 was but a seraph, yet he might be an archangel." 
 " But," I said, " David's Psalms, merely as productions- 
 of the intellect, will they be as nothing in the scale ?" 
 " Oh," he answered, " we know that such as he — 
 Prophets, Apostles, Saints — ^will have their special 
 places." "We must still," I said, "cultivate our- 
 talents, of course." " Of course we must ; but you 
 know the affections, our circumstances, our opportu- 
 nities are all talents, as much as the gifts of the in- 
 tellect. No -doubt there v/ill be disparities ; many are- 
 called, few chosen, there are many mansions." 
 
44 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 As we stood by his mantelpiece shortly before I 
 left him, he pointed out some old family drawings 
 and little relics which friends had brought him from 
 their travels. I remember a fragment of rock from 
 Sinai, a stone from Jordan, a bit of the rocky ground 
 of the pathway from Bethany to Jerusalem. He re- 
 marked how in looking on such things, and recall- 
 ing the scenes of his boyhpod arid youth, he was 
 moved, sometimes almost to tears. 
 
 I see him now standing at the door as I left him ; 
 with a smile on his face, and in his old playful way 
 he said, " Well, Privy Councillor, good-bye ; thank 
 you for this. I cannot tell you how much pleasure 
 you have given me by this visit." 
 
 So we parted, for this life. 
 
 I may, and I probably shall, be blamed for lingering 
 so long in this digression, but at whatever cost I must 
 yet add to it. I cannot but in some sort acknowledge, 
 though I can never pay, to my friend the debt I owe 
 him. He was, indeed, my friend, and when he was 
 a friend, he was the best of friends. How he dis- 
 charged that duty to me in the particulars, as from 
 time to time the calls arose, of course can never be 
 told to the public, but it will not be forgotten by some 
 at least in this and another generation; and I am 
 persuaded his acts, and the spirit in which he did 
 them, are written for him in that memorial where 
 alone he would wish them to appear. In the various 
 trials and troubles which have been sent to me in no 
 
Charles Dyson. 45 
 
 unusual number or magnitude in the course of a long 
 life, and especially during my early struggles in my 
 profession, he was my never-failing stay, my helper, 
 my counsellor. Childless himself, his paternal feel- 
 ings (tender and hearty they were) flowed out on my 
 children. He sometimes could and did more than 
 fill my place. In sickness or in health his house was 
 to them a home, and he nothing short of a father ; 
 he would suspend his own studies without reluctance 
 to direct theirs, and never seemed to feel their pre- 
 sence a disturbance to his own quiet. How they 
 gained by the love and wisdom, the quiet sympathy, 
 and the pleasant humour, which did not enfeeble dis- 
 cipline, but made its presence unfelt, it is impossible 
 for me to say or for them to forget. Pleasant, in- 
 deed, it is for me to feel that one and not the least 
 valuable of the impressions made on them still re- 
 mains fresh and strong in the hearty and reverential 
 love they bear to his memory. Dogmersfield is still 
 to them in recollection a home, and Uncle Charles, 
 as they called him, a revered and beloved father. 
 The surviving member of that household must for- 
 give me if I cannot keep back how she and her 
 sister contributed to the charm, which even now 
 makes that Simorg's Nest a hallowed place in the 
 recollections of us all. 
 
 I hope I may be forgiven if I print here a part of 
 one even of my own letters, which I have found among 
 a number preserved by Keble, and returned to me 
 
-46 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 by his brother. It is in remarkable harmony with 
 what I have just written. 
 
 " My dearest John Keble, — I think I know how you 
 must feel the blow which has lighted on us both in the de- 
 parture of our most dear friend at Dogmersfield, and I 
 cannot help writing a line to you. I naturally turn to the 
 last survivor of the Corpus band to which I was so tenderly 
 united, and I have been thinking over the days when, 
 rough and rude as I was, he and you and others accepted 
 me into that choice little circle. I have been thinking, too, 
 how ever since, on occasion after occasion when I have 
 wanted the advice, or the comfort, or the help of a friend, 
 he never failed me. How wise and good he was ! I do 
 not think I exaggerate when I say he v/as the wisest man 
 in the best sense I have ever been familiar with, and yet 
 how humble and how simple ! In his happy retirement, 
 with no countenance from great people, no fame in the 
 world, how entirely free was he from envy or repining ; in- 
 deed, he was incapable of both; taking a lively interest in 
 the important matters which stirred the State or the Church, 
 giving out his words of wisdom about them, but not desiring 
 to be taking any part in them. How often have I thought 
 of that little Nest and the slender tie on which so much 
 happiness, and the exercise of so much goodness, in that 
 place, hung, and now that tie is rent asunder. I presume 
 you and I shall meet at his grave." 
 
 His saltern accumulem donis. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 ■FINAL EXAMINATION. — ELECTION AT ORIEL. — UNI- 
 VERSITY PRIZES. — SIDMOUTH. — ORDINATIONS.— 
 FIRST CURACY. 
 
 KEBLE passed his final examination in Easter 
 Term, 1810, and was placed in both First Classes. 
 Up to that time no one had earned this distinction 
 "but Sir Robert Peel, with whose examination the 
 University was ringing when I matriculated. Keble's 
 youth, and what seemed, but I believe only seemed, 
 imperfect preparation, made his success the more re- 
 markable. It was a joy to us personally for the love 
 ■we bore him, and a triumph, too, beyond that which 
 a College always feels for distinction won by one of 
 its members. In our little circle we had known that 
 lie had doubted whether he should be able to pre- 
 pare himself in both lines, and some of that doubt 
 had perhaps spread amongst us as to the result ; but 
 both his tutors, Brydges the Mathematical, as well as 
 CoOke, had urged him on, and they judged his powers 
 more accurately than we. I now see from his letters 
 to his father that at the very crisis of his preparation 
 he was also writing both for the Latin and English 
 Verse Prizes. I was not aware of it at the time. He 
 knew, I dare say, that I was competing also, and 
 
48 Memoir of the Rev. John KebLe. 
 
 therefore made no communication to me. The Eng- 
 lish Verses I have never seen ; some of the Latin 
 appear in his correspondence with his father, sent to 
 him for his censure. I wish I could have recovered 
 the letters in which he must have announced to 
 his father his success and his disappointment, they 
 would surely have been very interesting. All his 
 letters to his father which I have seen are in the 
 affectionate and unpretending spirit of a boy, open- 
 hearted yet deferential, considerate as to the expense 
 he was occasioning, and shewing a strong desire to 
 relieve him from it. 
 
 With a view to this I find him in one proposing to 
 stand for a Fellowship at Magdalen, which it was 
 probable some circumstances would shortly throw 
 open. But the character he had now attained put 
 an end to any scheme of this kind, by opening to him 
 the prospect of the great distinction of a Fellowship 
 at Oriel. 
 
 He was elected a Probationer Fellow there on the 
 20th of April, i8i i, wanting then a few days of having 
 completed his nineteenth year ; and took his. place at 
 the High Table and in the Senior Common-room 
 among that body, which even then gave the tone to 
 the intellectual pursuits of the University, and which 
 within a few years, by the gradual accession of re- 
 markable men, was to acquire name and celebrity 
 far and wide, and to originate a movement of which 
 the effects are still felt through every part of the 
 
University Prizes. 49 
 
 Church of England. Whately entered it with him, 
 and they found Copleston and Davison in the lead 
 of it. I well remember being there as Keble's guest, 
 and being struck with the remarkable deference with 
 which these two were treated ; it was such as some- 
 what to check the social pleasure of the party. 
 
 His progress was now rapid. In 1812 he won the 
 Prizes for both the Bachelor's Essays, the English on 
 Translation from Dead Languages, the Latin a com- 
 parison of Xenophon and Julius Caesar as Military 
 Historians of Campaigns in which they had been 
 themselves engaged. This was an honour at that 
 time unprecedented ; indeed, the Latin Essay Prize 
 had only been founded by Lord Grenville in 1810, 
 but the same success has been very rarely achieved 
 since ; twice only, I believe ; and in one of those in- 
 stances by no less a man than my old school-fellow 
 and friend, H. H. Milman, the late Dean of St. Paul's. 
 Lord Grenville on all these occasions testified his 
 sense of "the very commendable industry and ex- 
 ertion, as well as of the merit of the compositions," 
 by a present of valuable _books beyond the regular 
 Prize, which was a sum of money. In one of his 
 letters, from which I shall have occasion to make an 
 extract, Keble refers to his Plutarch very amusingly. 
 
 Being resident, and without College office, he soon 
 became engaged in private tuition, and in the Long 
 Vacation of 181 3 a small party of pupils gathered 
 round him at Sidmouth, where he rented a picturesque 
 
 E 
 
50 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 cottage (Myrtle Cottage) out of the town, the garden 
 being bordered by the Sid, and within a few minutes 
 walk of the sea. This was the property of Cornish's 
 father, and adjoining to the Salcombe-hill grounds, 
 where the Cornish family, a numerous and bright 
 one of both sexes, resided. He had seen the sea for 
 the first time at Cowes in the preceding summer, 
 and had given ^nt to his feelings in some beauti- 
 ful lines ; but he had been very little of a traveller, 
 and the beauties even of this comparatively tame 
 part of Devonshire struck him very much. Writing 
 to an old pupil (Mr. Bliss) he says, — 
 
 "As I came into Devonshire in the dark, and conse- 
 quently could not (though veiy quick-sighted) see a great 
 deal of the country, I was not a little delighted on waking 
 the next morning to find myself in a little Paradise.'' 
 
 At this time I had gone through my examination, 
 and was passing my vacation at my own home at 
 Ottery St. Mary. The foot-way from one place to 
 the other was over the steep ridge which divides the 
 two valleys of the Sid and the Otter, the distance not 
 ■more than six miles, and the views on the way re- 
 markably beautiful. It was a delightful walk, and 
 the frequent intercourse between us was principally 
 kept up on foot over the hill. At the termination 
 ■of the ridge where it drops down with a steep descent 
 , into the Sidmouth Gap, are the remains of an Armada 
 beacon, according to the tradition of the country. 
 
Sidmoutk. 5 r 
 
 These, at the time I speak of, were not, as now they 
 are, suffered to be overgrown and hidden by a planta- 
 tion of firs. There on the short green turf we often 
 rested and enjoyed a view which for beauty, variety, 
 and extent is not easily to be surpassed. At our feet 
 was spread out Harpford - wood as a grand carpet 
 laid on a surface here and there deeply indented, 
 and beyond lay the rich and wooded valley of the 
 Otter ; thence the ground rises in successive ranges 
 of hills, until you reach the higher outlines of Dart- 
 moor. Down deep on our left lay Sidmouth and the 
 blue sea ; this sea-view is interrupted by the bluff 
 and wooded landward end of Peak^hill, and opens 
 again beyond this to a wide range of sea and sea- 
 coast, down to and beyond the Berry Head, the west- 
 ernmost point of Torbay. It needs not to be said 
 how Keble enjoyed this, and I hope I may be ex- 
 cused for borrowing Wordsworth's verse, — 
 
 " We talked with open heart and tongue 
 Affectionate and true." 
 
 Those who have never known Keble familiarly or 
 only in later life, will scarcely be prepared to hear 
 with how quick a relish he entered into the gaieties 
 of Sidmouth. At this time Torquay was little more 
 than a fishing village, and Sidrnouth, though a small 
 place, was much frequented by families seeking to 
 combine the pursuit of health for the delicate, with that 
 of amusement for the strong. It was consequently 
 
52 'Memoir of the Rev. John Kehle. 
 
 as much a winter watering-place as a summer, and 
 much of social intercourse was maintained all through 
 the winter. No one was better received than Keble, 
 and no one, I may add, seemed to enjoy more heartily 
 the morning or evening parties, the concerts, and 
 dances, which were frequent ; the scenery and the 
 society both found him impressionable, and as was 
 natural they had their effect upon his poetical powers ; 
 he composed more often and better than he had ever 
 done before. I am reminded by a note of my own 
 to him at the time how much I was struck with this ; 
 in it I urged him to cultivate powers which now 
 seemed to me unquestionable, and, looking after so 
 many years with the colder judgment of age on the 
 poems he then produced, I see no reason to alter my 
 opinion. They seem to me to promise all that he 
 afterwards performed. I will insert one specimen 
 written but a few days before he was to leave Sid- 
 mouth, and addressed " Nunquam auditurae :" — 
 
 How can I leave thee all unsung, 
 
 Wliile my heart owns thy dear control, 
 And heaven and love have o'er tliee flung 
 
 The softest moonlight of the soul ? 
 • Oh, I have long'd for thee to call 
 Soft Echo from tlie West Wind's hall, 
 
 Some notes as blithely wild to seek, 
 As the wild music of thy voice, 
 As the wild roses that rejoice 
 
 In thine eye's sunshine, on tliy glowing cheek. 
 
Sidmouth. 53 
 
 For not the breath of mortal praise 
 
 Thine artless beauty dares' profane j 
 For thee wild nature wakes her lays, 
 
 And thy soul feels the blessed strain. 
 The song that breaks the grove's repose, 
 The shower-drop nestling in the rose, 
 
 The brooklet's morning melody, 
 To these with soft and solemn tone 
 Thy spirit stirs in imison. 
 
 Owning the music of its native sky. 
 
 And when in some fair golden hour 
 
 Thy heart-strings shall give back the sigh, 
 
 Of Love's wild harp, no earthly bower 
 Shall lend such hues as bloom to die. 
 
 But earnest of the eternal spring. 
 
 Their amarant wreaths shall angels bring ; 
 And preluding the choir of heaven, 
 
 Soft Eden gales shall sweep tlie lyre. 
 
 And starlike points of guiltless fire 
 From God's own altar-flame to gem thy brow be given. 
 
 It is my pride that I can deem. 
 
 Though faintly, of that being's worth, 
 Who to the All-gracious mind shall seem 
 
 Meet help for thee in heaven and earth. 
 Long as before Life's gale I drive, 
 Shall holiest hope within me live, 
 
 Thee fair, thee blessed while I view ; 
 And when the port of endless rest 
 Receives me, may my soul be blest 
 
 With everlasting upward gaze on you. 
 
 It is needless surely to point out how even at this 
 
54 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 early period of his life what might have been a mere 
 love-song became in his way of dealing with it ele- 
 vated (perhaps too elevated) arid holy from the habi- 
 tual holiness and elevation of all his serious thoughts. 
 
 Neither his employment nor the attractions of Sid- 
 mouth, however, prevented Keble from occasional 
 expeditions into the country, and I remember well 
 that Jie and one of his pupils, Mr. Gaussen, with my- 
 self, under the guidance of my father, whose good 
 taste and familiarity with the country made him the 
 best of guides, rode from Sidmouth to and through 
 the north of Devon and the adjoining parts of Somer- 
 setshire. On our return to the neighbourhood of 
 Exeter we parted, and Keble and his pupil went on 
 to Plymouth and the Tamar. He was new to scenery 
 so beautiful or romantic as that which he went through 
 in the course of this tour. It delighted him at the time,, 
 and produced a permanent impression on his mind, 
 of which traces may be seen not merely in his corre- 
 spondence, but in his poems. He left Sidmouth witli 
 much regret, and was much regretted by many whom 
 he left ; by none perhaps more than the fine family 
 of his landlord, with whom he contracted abiding 
 intimacy ; and cemented more closely the friend- 
 ship already subsisting between himself and George 
 Cornish. 
 
 Not long after his return to Oxford in December, 
 1813, on the proposition of Davison, and by the ad- 
 vice of Copleston and his father, he consented to- 
 
Examining Master. 55 
 
 fill the office of Examining Master from the follow- 
 ing Michaelmas, and he set himself diligently to pre- 
 pare for the work. He had great misgivings, as 
 was to be expected in one at once so young and so 
 modest ; and it was a great comfort to him that 
 not long after Cardwell, two or three years his 
 senior, was joined to him as colleague ; the two 
 thoroughly understood each other, and agreed on 
 the principles which should govern them. There 
 •was no need for his apprehensions. From several 
 persons examined by him, I have heard that the 
 simplicity and kindness of his manner, his thorough 
 acquaintance with the matter of the examinatfon, 
 together with his entire freedopi from desire of dis- 
 playing himself, — too common a failing, as has been 
 said, of examining masters, — made him very effec- 
 tive and popular in the Schools. It has happened 
 to me more than once to meet with men in after 
 life who were and continued personally strangers 
 to him, but who had carried out of the Schools- 
 and retained through life a loving estimation of him 
 merely from his examination of them. 
 
 It was during his preparation for the oflSce that I 
 find in his letters the first entry on a subject which, 
 thenceforward it pleased God to give him almost 
 constant cause to dwell on, — the illness, I mean, of 
 one or other of those most dear to him. His letters 
 to me in the spring and summer of 1814 mention 
 the illnesses of two of his sisters, the eldest Eliza- 
 
56 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 beth, Sarah the next in order of birth; the latter 
 was carried off by consumption in that summer ; 
 and it must be interesting to see even at this early- 
 period how definite and cheerful were his convictions 
 in regard to the Intermediate state of the departed 
 Christian. Thus he wrote to me : — 
 
 " Not that I have been so much overwhelmed by what I 
 have lately seen and heard as to be unable to write, or to 
 enter into common subjects. Indeed, when I look back, 
 I Wonder at my own hard-heartedness. I do not believe 
 there has been one day since my dear sister was given 
 over, that I have not been able to go on with my reading 
 as usual. Yet I do not think it is insensibility, that I haye 
 been able to divert my thoughts from her so much, but 
 chiefly because I had suffered so much from suspense, 
 which in such cases always leads me to expect and imagine 
 worse than the worst. Another thing is, that I cannot 
 even now persuade myself I have lost her, except out of 
 my sight. That she is happy I have (blessed be God for 
 it !) the firmest faith, and that in her happiness she remem- 
 bers us, whom living she never forgot, I fondly persuade 
 myself Whenever I think of this, (and I have now made 
 the thought habitual,) it checks my gi'ief, making it seem 
 altogether selfish .and unreasonable. However it be, I con- 
 sider it as a great mercy that my spirits have not failed 
 me, since they are quite wanted in the family, and that 
 principally on Elizabeth's account, who in her helpless 
 state feels the loss most of all, and has besides suffered 
 greatly from her lameness within the last two or three 
 days. Tom does admirably well, his example has been of 
 very great advantage to me. 
 
 " Fairford, Saturday Night, July 2, 1814." 
 
Ordination. 57 
 
 About the same time, too, that he was first dis- 
 charging the duties of Examiner, his thoughts were 
 much occupied about his Ordination; he was very- 
 desirous that I should adopt the same course of life 
 as that on which he was resolved ; he thought my 
 health, which indeed at the time seemed delicate, 
 would fail in the profession I had chosen ; but his 
 principal motive was of a higher kind. It was thus 
 he wrote of that to which he pressed me in March, 
 18 1 5. After setting out his (very exaggerated) no- 
 tions of what personal advancement, might be in 
 store for me in the course I had chosen, he says : — 
 
 " I feel what it must be to forego the possibility, even 
 though it were but just possible, of realizing such hopes 
 as these ; nor do I think anything, not even the saving 
 health and life, would make me forego them, but for 
 visions far more brilliant and more certain too ; more 
 brilliant in their results, inasmuch as the salvation of one 
 soul is worth more than the framing the Magna Charta of 
 a thousand worlds ; more certain to take place, since temp- 
 tations are fewer, and opportunities everywhere to be 
 found. Can there be even among the angels a higher pri- 
 vilege that we can form an idea of, than the power of con- 
 tributing to the everlasting happiness of our neighbour to 
 be especially delegated and assigned to us by Almighty 
 God ? I would that I were as free from worldly care and 
 ambition, as the tliought of what I hope will be my high 
 calling ought to make me. I know that I ^m never so free 
 from evil thoughts as when these things are strongest on 
 my mind, but how difficult to make tliem habitual !" 
 
58 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 It was thus he wrote in March. On May the 20th, 
 but a few days before his ordination, he poured out 
 to me the genuine feelings of his heart : — 
 
 " You ask for my prayers, be assured that you have them , 
 though cold and worthless as they are, I can hardly hope 
 that they can do you good. But thanks be to God, there 
 is One who can make our worthless offerings available. 
 Pray for me, too ; pray earnestly, my dear, my best friend, 
 that He would give me His grace, that I may not be alto- 
 gether unworthy of the sacred office on which I am, rashly 
 I fear, even now entering; but that some souls hereafter 
 may have cause to bless me. Pray that I may be freed 
 from vanity, from envy, from discontent, from impure ima- 
 ginations ; that I may not grow weary, nor wander in heart 
 from God's service ; that I may not be judging others un- 
 charitably, nor vainly dreaming how they will judge me, at 
 the very moment that I seem most religiously and most 
 charitably employed. Without any foolish affectation of mo- 
 desty, I can truly say- that the nearer the time approaches^ 
 the more strongly I feel my own unfitness and unworthiness 
 for the ministry ; yet as I hope it is not such but that it 
 may be removed in time by earnest and constant use of the 
 means of grace, I do not think it needful to defer my Or- 
 dination ; but I want all the help I can get in the awful 
 and difficult preparation ; do not tlierefore forget me in 
 your prayers. I know, indeed, you do not forget me ; but 
 make especial mention of me at this season. On Sunday 
 next I hope to be ordained, and on Monday I go to Fair- 
 ford for the summer, having engaged myself for the next six 
 weeks to take charge of two small parishes, the churches of 
 which are as near as Oriel and Corpus Chapels, about four 
 miles distance from Fairford." 
 
Ordinations. 59 ■ 
 
 He was ordained Deacon on Trinity Sunday, 1815, 
 and Priest on Trinity Sunday, 18 16, both, by the- 
 Bishop of Oxford, Dr. Williani Jackson ; and in July 
 of the latter year, writing to me and congratulating 
 me on an event which was the prelude to the greatest 
 happiness of my life, and uttering words of loving 
 advice, which I look back on now with deep and 
 grateful interest, he says : — 
 
 "You will tmderstand all I mean to say, and cannot. 
 I want your prayers, too ; very much I want them, for every 
 day I feel the dangers and anxieties of my profession in- 
 crease upon me. Pray for me that I may not pollute- 
 God's altar with irregular, worldly-minded, self-complacent, 
 thoughts. Pray for me that I may free myself from all 
 pride, all ambition, all uncharitableness. You cannot think, 
 how a little word which you dropped one day, the last we 
 met together at Oxford, struck me, and how it has abode 
 with me ever since. You cautioned me against Formalism ; 
 I thought it hard at the time, but now I know you had too 
 good reason. Help me by your prayers, your advice, if 
 any occurs to you ; and your reproof, if you at any time 
 think I need it, to get rid of that dangerous habit." 
 
 Little did he v.-hen he gave vent to his feelings in 
 these remarkable passages, suppose they would ever 
 be exposed to the light to which I am now exposing 
 them, but I cannot believe I do wrong in publishing 
 them ; no one can doubt that they flowed from his 
 heart, and it may be useful lo many a young man 
 under similar circumstances to see this living picture- 
 
6o Memoir of the Rev. yohn Kehle. 
 
 of what Keble felt at that crisis of his life. I have 
 more fears on another point, and yet I hope I may- 
 be forgiven for not withholding what relates to my- 
 self only. I could not separate these parts without 
 impairing that perfect idea of him which the whole 
 extracts now present ; and I desire any one reading 
 " The Christian Year," and the " Lyra," to bear this 
 passage in mind when so engaged with them. I 
 think he v/ill see proof again and again, that these 
 were not the passing feelings of moments of excite- 
 ment, but ruling principles ever present and ever 
 operative on his mind. 
 
 How little probably did those who with the Bishop 
 laid their hands on Keble's head, dream at the time 
 how holy a spirit, how powerful an agent for good, 
 by God's blessing, they were enrolling among the 
 ministers of the Church. On himself the impres- 
 sions of the day were never weakened. Writing in 
 June, 1827, on Trinity Sunday, to George Cornish, 
 he says : — 
 
 " To-day I have been to an Ordination, for the first time 
 since I was ordained myself, and I have almost made a vow 
 to be present at one every year. I think it would do one 
 a great deal of good, like going hack to onis native air after 
 long intervals.^' 
 
 I must not anticipate, but I may mention in pass- 
 ing, that curiously enough he writes in the same 
 letter :— 
 
First Curacy. 61 
 
 " To-morrow I correct the press of my title-page, which 
 I need not tell you is always the last thing done in a 
 book." 
 
 This was " The Christian Year." 
 
 There was no external manifestation of extra- 
 ordinary or exclusive devotion to his calling in this 
 commencement of his ministry, the sole charge of 
 two parishes. East Leach and Burthorpe, small and 
 contiguous, for six weeks in the Long-vacation ; nor 
 did he afterwards, when the engagement had be- 
 come permanent, think it necessary to give up his 
 Oxford employments, or to decline the College 
 Tutorship when called on to take it. And yet I 
 doubt not that they were well provided for, and 
 that scarcely any better introduction could have 
 been had for him to the duties to which he had 
 devoted himself. He had his father, then in the 
 full vigour of his faculties, for his assistant and his 
 guide. It was a peculiar delight to him to place 
 himself once more as a pupil under that beloved 
 and respected guide ; while as generally a resident 
 at Oxford he had probably greater advantages for 
 the large and well-considered study of divinity, which 
 he now entered on. 
 
 I subjoin an extract from a letter to me written 
 from Oxford in November, 18 15, because it shews 
 not merely his views as to worldly advancement, 
 but also how early he took up, what he seems to 
 
62 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 have clung to through life, the necessity of dis- 
 • charging his duties as son and brother in close con- 
 nection with, and scarcely in subservience to those 
 •of his profession. He was never, indeed, called on 
 to make absolutely an election between the two ; 
 the circumstances were always such, that at the 
 most it was never necessary to do more than 
 change the scene of his professional labours, in 
 order to satisfy also family claims on his time and 
 
 - attention :— 
 
 " I have a great deal to say in answer to your first letter, 
 in which you urge the expediency of my doing something 
 to secure an independency if I should wish to marry. I 
 assure you that you quite mistake me, if you suppose that 
 I disavow entirely all feelings of ambition; on the con- 
 trary, I have a great deal of it, too much, I think, for my 
 ■ profession. I am far from ^ensuring ambition in general ; 
 it were idle to blame what most people cannot help feel- 
 ing : but I think I see clearly, that as a motive to my 
 clerical exertions, it is either wrong in itself, or liable every 
 moment to become so, and therefore I am sure I ought to 
 keep it down as much as possible. With respect to my 
 making some progress towards a maintenance, I have 
 thought much and seriously about it. I do not see any- 
 thing for a country clergj'man to do in that way, except 
 taking pupils : that I cannot do at home, nor should I like 
 
 - as yet to leave my father's roof ; but if Elizabeth's health, 
 which I hardly dare hope, should go on to improve, I think 
 something may be done. I may get a curacy, and take 
 a house, either near home, or if the sea should be recom- 
 mended to her, near the coast ; I have no particular re- 
 
First Curacy. 63 
 
 pugnance to the thing, and I certainly feel that there is 
 a great deal in what you say. I do not know what my 
 ovm prospects are ; but let them be what they will, it is 
 certainly right and just, that if I have opportunity, I should 
 ■do something for myself; but as long as Elizabeth con- 
 tinues so helpless, I should not think I did right in leaving 
 home on any speculation. Perhaps when Tom leaves Ox- 
 ford, which he will probably do in the course of next year, 
 "we may contrive some gainful grinding scheme between us. 
 I was very stationary all the summer, but I am a httle 
 afraid that you were right when you warned me against 
 indolence, in the shape of low. spirits, or contentedness. 
 Yet I seemed to myself almost always busy ; but when I 
 look back, very little seems done. Making sermons took 
 Tjp a good part of the time ; I imposed on myself a law of 
 writing at least one every week ; and then our school at 
 Fairford required a good deal of visiting, so that altogetlier 
 I am not very much au fait in Latin and Greek ; but my 
 nerves are more steeled, and my front more bronzed of 
 late months, so I shall bully away in the Schools as fear- 
 lessly as ever." 
 
 I do not attach any special importance to the 
 -extract which I am now about to give from a letter, 
 which has reached me through the kindness of Mr. 
 Arnott, as a testimony to Keble's work in his new 
 .sphere of duty; but it is at least a very genuine 
 -and unsuspicious one, and it contains an anecdote 
 .amusing and characteristic. The writer, who now 
 lives in Hertfordshire, had heard of the photogra- 
 phical Memoir of Keble, and was permitted to see 
 i:he photographs. The first part of his letter ad- 
 
64 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 dressed "to the gentleman with whom I had an 
 interview this afternoon," relates to East Leach Church; 
 then he proceeds thus : — 
 
 " I well remember Mr. John Keble coming to Eastleach 
 to do duty when the Rev. B. Boyes, through age and in- 
 firmity, was unable to do it. A very great change took 
 place in the village; he commenced a Sunday-school and 
 the Church, and at Bouthrop (Burihorpe) was well at- 
 tended. How long he was at East Leach I don't know, 
 but when I went some years after, the Rev. Cooper lived 
 at the parsonage at Bouthrop, and did duty at both 
 churches. 
 
 " Mr. Keble used to ride to and fro from Oxford, and 
 on Sunday used to dine at a cottager's, for which he paid, 
 and used to charge them not to provide anything extra for 
 him ; that was the stipulation. I have frequently defended 
 his character. In one of his visits the person had some 
 potatoes and herring for dinner, and he remarked after 
 some observations, that a herring relish'd potatoes. Then 
 some one raised a report that he should say that herring 
 and potatoes were good enough for any one. I have fre- 
 quently had to set that matter right. ... A sturdy Baptist, 
 a shoemaker, used to attend Bouthrop Church, stating, 
 as a reason, he there heard the Gospel. I myself have 
 much to be thankful for on account of Mr. Keble's min- 
 istrations." .... 
 
 In a postscript he adds, " Mr. Keble was outside the 
 church what he professed to be inside it." 
 
 In 1816, in the autumn, Keble was again in De- 
 vonshire, and for part of his time a visitor at my 
 father's house, where I then was. I have no recol- 
 
First Curacy. 65 
 
 lection of any particulars of the visit, and certainly 
 none of that which formed the subject in part of the 
 letter, from which I subjoin an extract I do not 
 know that melancholy, or despondency of spirits, 
 was remarkable in him at any time, certainly not 
 in later life. It has been observed, I believe, that 
 melancholy is a common attendant on poetic genius, 
 and good reasons may be given why it should be so. 
 Keble, however, would have been the last at this 
 time to think himself entitled to it as a poet; he 
 treats it, it will be seen, as a moral fault, against 
 which it was his duty to struggle. I have no doubt 
 he did so, and it seemed to me through life cha- 
 racteristic of him that he was always ready to ac- 
 cept v/ith a grateful heart and cheery disposition 
 the blessings vouchsafed him, and to be ready to 
 meet his trials with unfeigned resignation. His was 
 no boding spirit, nor did he make sorrows for him- 
 self; but no one can doubt that the statement in 
 this letter was a true account of what he really felt, 
 and a very interesting disclosure it is. It must be 
 added that the loss of one sister, and the suffering 
 state of another, weighed naturally upon him, and 
 the more because, as he was now residing at Fairford, 
 the absence of the one, and the trials of the other, 
 were presented to his mind more constantly : — 
 
 "Fairford, Oa. 9, 18 16. 
 " My dearest Friend, 
 " This is to greet your return to love, law, and London, 
 and to thank you for ten of the happiest days I have spent 
 
 F 
 
€6 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 for many years, yet those not half so happy as they ought 
 to have been. I do not know whether you find it, but I 
 hardly ever part from those that I love much and seldom 
 ■see, without a strong feeling of dissatisfaction with myself, 
 -and feeling that I have by no means made the most of my 
 time, and that I have thrown away many precious oppor- 
 tunities for some of the greatest enjoyments of life ; and 
 this has been more especially the case since our domestic 
 ■distresses ; they have furnished me vnth too good an excuse 
 for indulging a certain humour calling itself melancholy, 
 but I am afraid, more truly entitled proud and fantastic, 
 which I find very often at hand, forbidding me to enjoy ■ 
 the good things, and pursue the generous studies, which 
 a kind Providence throws so richly in my way ; then tlie 
 hours which I spend alone, owing to the distance of my 
 Cure from home, are many, and I have indulged myself in 
 •a sad trick of filling them up with melancholy presages. I 
 have long known this to be very wrong, but I never felt the 
 mischief of it so much as in the midst of your happy family 
 party. I felt as if I was saddening everybody, and thou- 
 sands and thousands of resolutions did I make that I would 
 shake off this selfish remembrance of past and distant cala- 
 mities, that I would enjoy myself wherever I went. I trust 
 I shall be able, tliough late, to accomplish tliese good re- 
 solutions, but it will be a long and steady course of self- 
 discipline alone, grounded upon high motives, and assisted 
 by the prayers, advice, and example of my relations and 
 friends, which will enable me, by God's blessing, to do so. 
 .And to whose prayers, advice, and example, shall I have 
 recourse so unreservedly as to yours. My dear fellow you 
 cannot think how I depend on you. I have never thought 
 of you in my blackest dreams, without consolation and 
 liope ; for you, as you know, my presages were never me- 
 lancholy; and now I am endeavouring to brace myself up 
 
First Curacy. 67 
 
 to a little more activity and cheerfulness, nothing upon 
 earth animates me more than the brightening view which 
 I take of your prospects. May they never be clouded by 
 ■calamity, they will not I am sure by wilful melancholy, as 
 mine have sometimes been. This is not mock-modesty, I 
 assure you ; it is the plain and simple truth, and I teU it 
 -you because it relieves me to tell it, and because I shall 
 -expect you to talk to me sharply, and rouse me from my 
 selfishness, whenever in my correspondence or conversation 
 you discover any sign of it. Certainly I have no hereditary 
 right to it ; all my relations, and chiefly she who has suffered 
 most, are disposed to make the best of things ; it is a mor- 
 bid habit of my own contracting, and may, and shall, by 
 God's blessing, be cured. It must be so for the comfort of 
 -all whom I ought to make happy, and still more for my 
 own happiness, for I feel more and more every day that I 
 cannot be quite happy alone, and certainly if I am a hypo- 
 -chondriac, I cannot be happy in company. And so ends 
 my sentimentality, and so, like the German Baron in Gold- 
 smith, jumping over the stools, 
 
 " 'Sh' apprens tfetre vif.'" 
 
 I will add an extract from another letter to me, 
 dated from Fairford, in June, 18 17, in part on the 
 same subject, but interesting also as shewing his 
 judgment at that time on Jeremy Taylor and Milton. 
 He is speaking principally of the prose works of the 
 latter, but he was not a hearty lover of his poetry- 
 even in later life. He never could separate the work 
 from the author, and to a great extent they are in- 
 separable, but there is danger of disparaging good 
 poetry on account of a supposed bad writer of it. 
 
68 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 and even more perhaps of overvaluing an indifferent 
 work, from a liking and high estimation of the au- 
 thor. I do not think Keble entirely escaped either 
 
 danger : — 
 
 " Fairford, 
 
 June 2, 1817. 
 
 " I shall be inexcusable if I do not get into a habit of 
 looking at the bright side of things, and shake off entirely 
 a certain perverse pleasure, in which perhaps you may not 
 conceive how any man should indulge himself, of turning 
 over in my thoughts a huge heap of blessings, to find one 
 or two real or fancied evils (which after all are sure to tum 
 out goods) buried among them. 
 
 "Next to the books which it is my duty to study, I 
 find none so usefial in helping me to considerations of this 
 kind, as your and my friend and favourite Jeremy Taylor. 
 Though I have been long acquainted with him, I never 
 read his ' Holy Living and Dying' regularly till this spring, 
 and I cannot tell you the delight it has given me ; surely 
 that book is enough to convert any infidel, so gentle in 
 heart, and so high in mind, so fervent in zeal, and so 
 charitable in judgment, that I confess I do not know any 
 other author, except perhaps Hooker, (whose subjects are 
 so different that they will hardly bear a comparison,) worthy 
 to be likened to him. Spenser I tliink comes nearest his 
 spirit in all respects. Milton is like him in richness and 
 depth, but in morality seems to me as far below him as 
 pride is below humility. I have been looking into some 
 of his prose works lately, of which, I am ashamed to say, 
 I was and am grossly ignorant ; but what will you think of 
 me, when I own to you, that I was hardly ever so shocked 
 and mortified in my life ; perhaps I shall make some 
 amends by my unbounded admiration of many passages; 
 
First Curacy. 69 
 
 perhaps you will attribute it all to cavalierish and episco- 
 p^an prejudices, but certainly I shut the book with an 
 increased veneration for his abilities, and a very much 
 diminished confidence in his opinions, and aifection for 
 his general character. But I must try to get rid of the 
 dislike, and lay his faults, if I can, upon times and cir- 
 cumstances, and not upon Hmself, for it is quite uncom- 
 fortable to think of such a man as from some places I was 
 inclined to do. At any rate it must be a most impressive 
 warning to men of genius, to read, as they often may I 
 think in his Tracts, one sentence written as if an angel 
 had held the pen, and the next, (as it seemed to me,) 
 more like Cobbett's style than any other I know of. One 
 thing ratlaer pleases me, (as every body hkes to be con- 
 firmed in his old prejudices,) that the spirit of the loyal 
 party in those times should seem so much more candid 
 and charitable than that of the Puritans. Where will you 
 find in Taylor, or Hammond, or Chillingworth, or Saunder- 
 son, or even in Clarendon, such a gross, puerile, iUiberal, 
 (not to say dishonest) invective, as Milton, evidently, ad 
 captandum vulgus, has put into his Iconoclastes against 
 K. Charles's Chaplains? How httle did he dream that 
 Taylor's name would go down to posterity side by side 
 with his own, and the other three but a little below it 
 " But enough of this declamation.'' 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 TUTORSHIP AND SECOND RESIDENCE AT ORIEL. — 
 DEATH OF MRS. KEBLE. — 1818 — 1823. 
 
 KEBLE, having served as Public Examiner in the 
 Final Schools, had after a short interval under- 
 taken the duty of Examiner in the Responsions. 
 This last wearied him a good deal, and when it was- 
 performed, early in 18 17, he had quitted Oxford, as 
 he thought, " no more to return officially." He quitted 
 it with delight. 
 
 " I assure you," he wrote, " it is quite a relief to me to 
 have got rid of my Oxford emplojmient : I got quite tired 
 of the Little-Go, and more so of that prince of absurdities- 
 "Determining," — the very smell of the Schools sickened' 
 me ; and I am now free to give myself up entirely to my 
 profession — my dear delightful profession — ^^vhich I grow 
 fonder of every day j and yet every day proves to me what 
 a burden it is, and how much remains to be done before I 
 can be at all fit to bear it. I need your prayers, and trust 
 I have them ; I do assure you you are never forgotten in. 
 mine." 
 
 Thus he wrote in March, 1817. Oxford, however,, 
 retained a strong hold on his affections, and he was- 
 not yet to have done with her. 
 
 "Though," says he, in Nov. 1817, "I am so near to- 
 Oxford, and have such regular calls there, in comparison 
 
Tutorship at Oriel. 71 
 
 of yours, I can yet enter completely into your feelings 
 towards the place : every time I go there, I feel like a. 
 miser looking over his old chests, and thinking how much 
 money he has wasted in his youth; the last time I was- 
 there, in particular, I had the temptation very strong upon, 
 me to stay and plimge myself into the walks, Ubraries, and 
 cathedral services for a year : but conscience prevailed, 
 and I came back to the Cotswolds.'' 
 
 It was to be expected, that if a vacancy should 
 occur in the Tutorships of Oriel, he would be called 
 on to fill it ; and although it would be an interruption 
 to the scheme of life which he had laid down for him- 
 self, it was pretty clear to all who knew him, that 
 coming in the shape of a duty, which he owed to the 
 College as Fellow, he would scarcely consider him- 
 self at liberty to decline it At the same time, I may 
 observe, the obligations of a Fellow to his College 
 were not, at the period I speak of, so strictly regarded 
 as I hope and believe they now are. Fellowships 
 were often sought after, and obtained by very con- 
 scientious men, merely as distinctions or as helps to 
 the pursuit of a profession elsewhere; and indeed, 
 unless a Fellow engaged himself in tuition, or spe- 
 cially in some study, for which residence in the Uni- 
 versity was desirable, there were not wanting reasons 
 enough in a great many instances, to apply to a Fel- 
 low the common saying, that his room was more 
 desirable than his company ; there being a great de- 
 mand for the former, and the residence of an unem- 
 
72 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 ployed young Fellow being often of little advantage, 
 or even detrimental to the discipline of the Under- 
 graduates. 
 
 It was with mixed feelings, however, and not with- 
 out scruple, that Keble gave up even for a time his 
 home and his curacy; but he was the more easily 
 reconciled to this, as it was arranged that his brother 
 should take his place in both, and he also looked 
 forward to passing his vacations principally at Fair- 
 ford, and at all times still taking part in the duties 
 of East Leach. I find it stated in Mr. Moor's care- 
 fully prepared memoir, that he was appointed Col- 
 lege Tutor in Michaelmas Term, 1818, but I rather 
 think it was very late in 18 17 that he was applied to 
 to take the office ; and that he was engaged in the 
 regular discharge of its duties in the very beginning 
 of 1 8 18. On Jan. 29 of that year he writes to me 
 thus, dating from Fairford, and the letter will shew 
 in part the feelings which actuated him in accepting 
 the office. 
 
 "I am afraid you think me quite an incorrigible fellow 
 in the matter of correspondence : but to confess the truth 
 I purposely kept from writing to you as long as I hung in 
 doubt about migrating to Oriel; and by the time I had 
 made up my mind, I was got into a bad habit of not 
 writing ; and I need not tell such a philosopher as you are, 
 how hard it is to break bad habits. I would not ask your 
 advice, whether I should turn Tutor or no, because I knew 
 beforehand what it would be, and I was afraid, hke Noel, 
 
Tutorship at Oriel. 73 
 
 of being convinced by your sophistry. However, I might 
 just as well have done it, and then made a merit of yield- 
 ing; as I have done to my friends here and at Oxford. 
 I thought at first it would be a very uncomfortable thing to 
 me to give up my Cure, and become an Academic again ; 
 but I get more and more reconciled to it every day. You 
 consider Tuition as a species of pastoral care, do you not? 
 otherwise it might seem questionable, whether a clergyman 
 ought to leave a cure of souls for it. And yet there are 
 some people at Oxford who seem to imagine that College 
 Tutors have nothing to do with the morale. If I thought 
 so, I would never undertake the office; but I feel some 
 difficulty in settling with myself beforehand, how far one 
 ought to carry one's interference with the general con- 
 duct of a pupil ; probably it is impossible to draw a pre- 
 cise line.'' 
 
 On March 5, 1818, he dates from Oriel, and writes 
 thus : — 
 
 "Here I am, regularly re-matriculated, and to say the 
 truth, in many things as great a freshman as ever ; I would 
 not have believed it on anything less than experience, how 
 much difference two or three years' absence fi-om a place 
 can make in one's knowledge of its ways, and fitness to 
 live in it. But now it is no longer a wonder to me that 
 old men should find so much difficulty in accommodating 
 themselves to new fashions, or that they should have so 
 little S3TTipathy with their juniors. In both these, as in 
 many other respects, I seem to have found myself much 
 older than I ought to be. But perhaps I shall find the 
 work slide more easily out of hand, when I am a little more 
 used to it 
 
74 Memoir of the Rev. John KeUe. 
 
 " You would have been delighted to have walked rouncJ 
 the Meadow the other day, and heard old Dyson discussing 
 sundry subjects for sermons, with which he means to edify 
 his flock. Now he has taken in earnest to Divinity, what 
 an admirable divine he will make. I, of course, having just 
 left my parish, envy every man who is just going to his ; 
 exactly as when I go back to it again (which in process of 
 time I think not unlikely) I shall envy every College Tutor ; 
 — just as we are now regretting the loss of Davison here, 
 having taken so little pains to improve his presence among 
 us. However, I shall not have done with East Leach, in 
 all probability, till October, and then Tom will take to it ; 
 so that they will rather be gainers than losers on the whole 
 at our home by the change, for I shall be there half the 
 year, and Tom the whole of it. 
 
 "I live in fear and dread of some row about the first 
 clock or the second, or some other rebellion of ancient 
 standing, rising up to push me from my stool of office ; in 
 vengeance for the part I took (by your instigation, mind) 
 in that ' Great Rebelhon,' which, as Arnold says, secured 
 the liberty of the subject at Coipus. But hitherto they 
 have all behaved remarkably well. I am going to live ii» 
 Davison's rooms, just opposite Tucker and Cornish. I only 
 hope I shall not be practicahzed to death. 
 
 " You must not wonder very much, if you see me come 
 up to London to buy fmiiiture some time within the fort- 
 night. Pray tell your hatter, when next you walk tlirough 
 St. James'-street or the Haymarket (I forget which) to send 
 me a new hat, moderately fashionable, immediately, as the 
 old shovel to which Patteson paid so mucli respect, was 
 quite spoiled by the snow last Sunday week; and I am 
 afraid my pupils will mock me, if they see me in a bad hat. 
 The man has my measure." 
 
Tutorship at Orkl. 75 
 
 Again, on April 30, 181 8, he writes from Oriel : — 
 
 "I rejoiced to hear of your second pupil — who is he?" 
 I hope another Pennington : and so the long old dusky- 
 desk is after all of some use. I used to look at it with an, 
 eye of commiseration, as I do sometimes at my Plutarch, 
 ■with this inward cogitation : ' Oh that there were any- 
 chance of thy being of use to thy owner.' " 
 
 This refers to the present from Lord Grenville,. 
 which I have spoken of before : and when he speaks- 
 of his fears of death by the slow process of practi- 
 calization, those who are not familiar with Oxford 
 should be told, that the front of Corpus faces the 
 side of Oriel in which his windows were, the street 
 between being so narrow that he was within point 
 blank range of a pea-shooter or any other equally 
 manly arm of offence from the young Tutors of 
 Corpus. 
 
 "Well here I am settled after a manner in Oriel, and 
 very comfortable I find it — not yet quite so comfortable as 
 my home and curacy : that was not to be expected ; but 
 I take to the work, and to the solitude, far more kindly 
 than I expected I should. We have a remarkably good 
 gentlemanly set, especially of Gentlemen-Commoners. None 
 of them, except perhaps one or two, are great readers, but 
 they nearly all learn their lectures, and most of them are 
 very well behaved. Two of the best come to me as 'pe- 
 culiar grinder' (I must have a little slang, though Davison's 
 face should glare on me from the opposite pannel), they are 
 Baring, one of the banker's sons, and Fremantle, a son of 
 the Admiral, delightful fellows both; and what does me 
 
76 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 more good than anything, we get up and set to work at 
 six in the morning ; so that I can get everything done and 
 get out for exercise at one o'clock." 
 
 I have not stinted myself in the extracts from these 
 letters, because I am anxious above all things to pre- 
 sent a true and minute picture of Keble in every 
 principal stage of his life ; his Tutorship at Oriel was 
 one of these, and his letters are artless and uncon- 
 scious paintings of himself by himself. I have not 
 therefore withdrawn even so trifling a matter as his 
 playful allusion to what he calls the "Great Rebel- 
 lion," an almost incredibly childish dispute which 
 we of the first class at Corpus had had with our 
 Tutor respecting the time at which we were to 
 commence and end our lecture. Corpus hours were 
 regulated by the Christ Church clocks, of which 
 there were two, the one always five minutes before 
 the other; and I think we earnestly contended and 
 thought that we ought to begin by the later, and end 
 by the earlier, thus effecting a saving of ten minutes 
 in the hour. It is amusing now to think of Keble 
 and Arnold engaged in this conflict ; we were indeed 
 merely great boys in heart, though nearly all of us 
 about soon to win our places in the Schools as First 
 Class men. But though Arnold was pleased to de- 
 clare that we had secured the liberty of the subject, 
 the love of historic truth compels me to admit, that 
 our excellent Tutor, who preserved his good humour 
 
Tutorship at Oriel. 77 
 
 through the whole, as indeed did the rebels also, 
 obtained the substantial victory, enforced the stand- 
 ard imperial measure for the hour, and extracted 
 from us a good sixty minutes' attendance. I have no 
 doubt, however, that in the commencement of his 
 Tutorship, Keble — young, modest, and sensitive as 
 he was, and almost a stranger in his College — really 
 felt some of the alarm which he speaks of But this 
 must have soon passed off: he never repented of 
 the time which he spent as Tutor at Oriel ; he felt, 
 no doubt, that though for the time he was diverted 
 from the main plan of his life, and to a certain extent 
 lost what he valued so dearly, the full care of his 
 curacies and the society of home, he was yet dis- 
 charging a duty which he owed to his College ; and 
 by the view he wisely took of the nature of that 
 duty, as indicated in these extracts, the diversion, 
 temporary only, was never a wide one. 
 
 He was cast too on happy times for the pei^formance 
 of it ; Oriel then stood incontestably at the head of 
 the University ; in spite of some constitutional infir- 
 mities. Dr. Copleston was an admirable Head, accurate 
 in his scholarship, correct in his taste, studious in the 
 acquisition of knowledge, impartial in his discipline, 
 and, though last hardly least, liberal in his hospitality. 
 He was, too, at this time in full vigour and activity 
 of mind and spirits, in the commencement of his 
 career as Provost, and entering heartily into all its 
 duties. The rigid impartiality and good sense with 
 
78 Memoir of the Rev. John Kehle, 
 
 which the elections to Fellowships were conducted, 
 had succeeded in forming a very remarkable body- 
 in the Common -Room. No undue weight in the 
 competition was given to the place which had been 
 acquired in the Class-paper, a matter on which good 
 fortune in many ways has, too often and yet un- 
 avoidably, great influence ; but the Electors steadily 
 aimed at finding out the candidate in whom appeared 
 the happiest combination of scholarship, intellect, and 
 character, and the whole Examination was conducted 
 with this object in view. 
 
 Tutors eminent for ability and acquirements were 
 a natural consequence of all this; and whatever may 
 be said in disparagement of the wisdom of parents in 
 regard to the education of their children, I believe no 
 attraction to a College is found so invariably strong 
 as a staff of eminent Tutors. All these circumstances 
 made Oriel at this time the favourite College, espe- 
 cially, perhaps, for those who really desired to pursue 
 the studies of the University steadily. The applicants 
 for admission were far beyond the vacancies, so that 
 a selection might be made from among them. 
 
 It must not be supposed that when Keble speaks 
 of having everything done, and his going out for ex- 
 ercise at one o'clock, his labours for the day were 
 over so early ; he was diligent in preparing his lec- 
 tures, and complains in some of his letters that he 
 had no time for his own private reading. He at- 
 tached himself affectionately to his pupils, and many 
 
Tutorship at Oriel. 79 
 
 of them attached themselves with equal warmth to 
 him. His manner with them at lecture was perfectly 
 simple and unpretending ; if he was ignorant and un- 
 -able to answer a question or explain a difficulty, there 
 was no attempt at concealment ; nor could any pupil 
 fail to see that his well-doing was at least as great a 
 cause of happiness to his Tutor as to himself. Mis- 
 behaviour or idleness, it was obvious, gave him sincere 
 pain. Intimacies, of course, did not always grow up 
 from the intercourse of the pupil room, or they might 
 -afterwards cease from separation and other causes; 
 but some lifelong friendships were so made ; one in 
 ■especial may be mentioned in a word even here. 
 Baring, of whom he speaks, (the second Lord Ash- 
 burton,) introduced Sir William Heathcote to him, 
 of whom, in a letter to me in 1821, he speaks as 
 "one of his greatest comforts at Oxford." Heath- 
 cote read with him at extra hours (as Baring and 
 Fremantle, the present Sir Thomas, had done), and 
 the bond which united them was never loosened. 
 One fruit, as is well known, was his becoming in 
 after life the Vicar of Hursley, a circumstance which, 
 in more ways than are at once apparent, influenced 
 and coloured the remainder of his days. 
 
 I had married later in the same year in which he 
 became Tutor, and was very soon plunged into the 
 anxieties of a sick house and the early struggles 
 of a difficult profession. Our personal intercourse, 
 therefore, was very much interrupted, but our inti«> 
 
So Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 mate correspondence continued. He had been of 
 course privy to my engagement, and watched its 
 progress with affectionate interest ; now my serious 
 anxieties caused his letters to be more frequent, and 
 to overflow not only with affectionate sympathy, but 
 with the most wholesome consolations. I shall be 
 excused for making this short mention of my own 
 affairs in order to introduce one or two of his letters 
 on these subjects during this period of our lives. 
 The manner in which he speaks of me must, of course, 
 be set down to the warmth of his feelings. Once for 
 all I may say this, and I do so most unfeignedly; 
 I can neither omit such passages where they occur, 
 nor alter them ; they are interwoven with the con- 
 text, and seem to me necessary not more to the 
 accuracy of the extracts than of the portrait I seek 
 to give of the writer. He dates from Oriel on De- 
 cember 6, 1818 : — 
 
 " My dearest Friend, 
 
 " Edward gave me an account the other day, which dis- 
 tressed me a good deal, of your Mary's health. I trust 
 Dyson's more favourable report will be confirmed j com- 
 fortable man that he is, he always brings cheerfulness with 
 him. These occasional illnesses were what we reckoned 
 on, and therefore we must not be alarmed unreasonably 
 when they do occur. I know, however, that come what 
 will, you and she are provided with strength and comfort 
 beyond what I can imagine, Only bear up, and you will 
 soon, very soon, have to rejoice. I confess I am rather 
 
' Tutorship at Oriel. 8i 
 
 glad that you have so much business upon your hands, as 
 it will force you to keep up your spirits and take care of 
 yourself, a most essential duty of a good nurse. Do not 
 trouble yourself about writing to me, except you are quite 
 in the humour for it. I shall hear of you many ways. 
 
 " After all, these anxieties are the greatest of mercies ; 
 they are, I verily believe, the only effectual means to wean 
 us from our idols. We may make good resolutions, and do 
 much towards keeping them, but there is something so 
 subtle and insinuating in earthly happiness (and the more 
 so in proportion to its innocence and purity), that one 
 such pang, or misgiving, as leaves a lasting impression of its 
 insecurity, will do more towards lifting our hearts where they 
 ought to be, than all that most of us could, or at least would, 
 do for ourselves. At least, from my own experience, I can 
 truly say that I know I ought to be (I am afraid I am not) 
 more thankful to my Lord and Master for His fatherly 
 chastisements, than for all the comforts and indulgences 
 He has aflorded me. My dear Coleridge, do not imagine 
 because I write in this strain that I have heard any very 
 discouraging reports ; but I have found so much comfort in 
 some late instances in having thoroughly made up my mind 
 to the worst beforehand, that I cannot help recommending 
 it to my friends. But indeed I trust that your good and 
 happy union will yet continue many, many years. It is 
 happy for you that I have it not in my power to ensure 
 it j for it would certainly be done, whether for the better or 
 the worse ; but I can pray for it, and that I will %vith my 
 best endeavours, and so will they, who may better hope to 
 be heard, all your good and kind friends, and the many 
 who are indebted to you beyond what wealth could repay. 
 I have particularly begged that Elizabeth would remember 
 you both. 
 
 G 
 
82 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 " My dear friend, may God bless you for Christ's sake, 
 and may I soon see you again all well and happy. I shall 
 write soon I hope something better than this scrawl, which 
 I am almost afraid to send, but you know my meaning. 
 Ever, ever yours, J. K." 
 
 It will be well to conclude this personal episode 
 "without interruption. I was mercifully spared the 
 great evil, which I seemed to have reason to fear, 
 when he wrote the last letter; and in July, i8ig, 
 became a father, and some months of great happiness 
 followed ; but in April, 1820, we were deprived of our 
 child. Many who have suffered the same affliction, 
 the loss of their first and only child, will know how 
 bitterly it wounds young parents, and they will best 
 appreciate the letter which he wrote to me on that 
 occasion, and will thank me, I believe, for inserting 
 it here. 
 
 " Oriel College, 
 April 26, 1820. 
 " My dearest Friend, 
 
 "" It is presumption in me, I know, to pretend to comfort 
 you on so sad an occasion as this, but I must tell you truly 
 that my hejurt bleeds at the thought of your loss, though I 
 Icaow it is absolutely impossible for me to sympathize with 
 you under it ; but you have better comforters who do, not 
 only James Coleridge and dear John Patteson, but a more 
 effectual one than either, efven Him who 'when He saw 
 a dead man carried out, the only son of his mother, had 
 compassion on her.' He is even now touched with a feel- 
 
Tutorship at Oriel. 85 
 
 ing of the sorrow of heart which has fallen upon you and 
 your dear wife, whom God bless, confirm, and comfort for 
 His sake. My dear friends, think as little as you can of 
 yourselves, but think of the blessed infant whom you pre- 
 sented so few days ago before Christ in His earthly temple ; 
 ;think of her being even now admitted to serve Him in His 
 lieavenly temple day and night, and knowing and praising 
 Him infinitely better than the greatest saint on earth can 
 •do ; and though it is nothing in comparison of eternity, yet 
 it is blessing enough to assuage your grief, which, however 
 good and Christian, must confess itself to be but earthly, 
 when you consider that your darling is put into her Saviour's 
 arms so many years before the time that most of His ser- 
 vants are admitted there, qidte safe, quite good, quite happy, 
 and, I dare to say it, overflowing with love for you beyond 
 what all your kindness and tenderness could have made 
 her comprehend in the longest life that parents and children 
 ■can expect to enjoy together here. And although David 
 said his child could not return to him, yet since we are 
 taught that there is a sympathy between Paradise and Earth, 
 at least between the saints in one and the saints in the 
 •other, what if Christian parents, by holy living, should be 
 supposed to have this comfort among otliers, that their lost 
 cliildren still watch over them, or in some way or other 
 know of their well-doing? The thought is not, I am per- 
 suaded, unscripturalj but thank God you have no need of 
 it. ' For if we beHeve that Jesus died and rose again, 
 even so them also which sleep in Jesus will God bring 
 with Him.' You need not look farther for comfort than 
 those words. May He in whom alone we can know com- 
 fort, make them and all other consolations which His Pro- 
 vidence has in store for you, so truly comfortable to you, 
 that you shall be able to look backward even to this sad 
 
84 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 time with humble thankfulness to Him for helping you to 
 suffer as Christians ; so prays from the bottom of his heart, 
 " Your affectionate friend, 
 
 " J. Keble. 
 
 " If it will be any comfort to you at all for me to come 
 tip for a day or two I shall be thankful, and can do it with- 
 out inconvenience. 
 
 " Tell dear Patteson I longed to write to him, but was 
 afraid of distressing him, not knowing till I came back here 
 how graciously he is upholden. God bless him and you, 
 through our Lord Jesus Christ." 
 
 The message in the postscript to my dear friend 
 John Patteson, between whom and Keble a friendship 
 had sprung up, had reference to the far heavier af- 
 fliction, which but a little before had befallen him, 
 in the loss of his wife. 
 
 To return from this personal digression, which has 
 carried me out of the order of events. He was much 
 disturbed in the summer of 1819 in the comfortable 
 discharge of his duties as Tutor, by the alarming ill- 
 ness of his brother, on whom, as I have said, he had 
 reckoned to supply his place in the family circle and 
 in his parish. Never were two brothers more attached 
 to each other. Of the younger, now the only sur- 
 vivor of that generation, I do not feel at liberty to 
 say more than that from his great modesty and re- 
 tiringness, and from his having been over-shadowed, 
 as it were, by his brother's great reputation, the world 
 knows much less of him than in justice it ought to 
 
Tutorship at Oriel. 85 
 
 have done. In May, 18 19, a severe and neglected 
 cold appeared to have settled on his lungs. Dr. 
 Bourne, of Oxford, who was the family physician, 
 was not very encouraging, and the symptoms did not 
 for some time abate under treatment. Writing to 
 Dyson about him, Keble mentions that there had 
 been a negotiation on foot for his becoming one of 
 the Tutors of Corpus, which of course was interrupted 
 by this illness. He says, — 
 
 " I was afraid this might have annoyed him and pressed 
 on his spirits, but I am glad to find it does not. He is 
 perfectly calm and placid, wrapped up in the same thoughts 
 which I verily believe have long taken up his whole mind, 
 for I know he does not expect to recover. I know you 
 will give us your prayers, my dear fellow." 
 
 It was an addition to Keble's personal trial that he 
 could only see his brother from week to week, as he 
 went down to take his duty for him. But he and 
 the family ■\Vere mercifully spared the great affliction 
 of losing him. In June he began to mend, and the 
 Long Vacation coming on, Keble was able to be with 
 him, and regularly supply his place in his church. 
 All this he communicated of course to me, and I 
 must find room for his grateful and wise reflections 
 on the event. Writing on June 15, 18 19, from Oriel, 
 he says, — 
 
 " His recovery, amendment I should say (for though his 
 cough is much abated and all the symptoms far milder, the 
 
86 Memoir of the Rev. John Kehle, 
 
 complaint does not seem yet entirely removed), came upore 
 me, and I believe upon most of our family, almost like 
 a resurrection. Without saying so to one another, I fancy 
 we had almost all of us made up our minds to the parting ; 
 and now how to be thankful enough for so great a mercy 
 as his being spared to us I know not. The near prospect 
 of so great a loss (humanly speaking) brought home to me 
 a lesson which I have before now preached to you, and 
 shewed me how little used I was to practise it myself — 
 I mean the duty of preparing oneself, by constant medita- 
 tion, for all the worst privations that can befall one in this 
 world. My dear friend, I was and am quite ashamed to 
 find how utterly wanting I was at heart in what I have 
 been so long teaching others, and under special engage- 
 ments to practise myself. However, the example of all 
 at home, and particularly that of Tom himself, who took 
 everything with the most perfect calmness, did me a good 
 deal of good, and I wish and pray every day that all this 
 may not be lost upon me. It certainly is, when we con- 
 sider it calmly, and in any other case but our own, — ^it cer- 
 tainly is no more thaA plain reason and common sense for 
 any one, who believes in our gi-acious Master and His pro- 
 mises, to throw his whole care, both for himself and those 
 dearest to him, ■wholly and entirely upon Him. The Avay 
 of putting the thought which seemed to relieve me most 
 when my fears were at worst, and I was most tempted to 
 set my heart upon Tom's recovery, was this : — If I were 
 thoroughly sure of his being restored to health after a cer- 
 tain time, I should be most content and thankful ; now in 
 fact I am morally sure of his being restored to infinitely 
 more than earthly health, though I do not exactly know 
 the time. I dwelt upon this thought, and it seemed so 
 exactly what I wanted, that I have just put it down for the- 
 
Tutorship at Oriel. 87 
 
 chance of its suggesting something to you ; though I well 
 know, my dear friend, that your griefs are beyond the skill 
 of any worldly comforter, yet I will say to you, 'Be of 
 good comfort ;' for I feel that I have a right to do it. The 
 greatness of your affliction, borne as you are endeavouring 
 to bear it, is a sure pledge and proof that you are under 
 the immediate hand of Him into whose hands it is good 
 to fall because His mercies are great You may apply to 
 yourself, or if you are afraid of that, you may at least apply 
 to the dear sufferer for whom you are so anxious, all those 
 great and glorious promises which the Scripture holds out 
 to martyrs and confessors, and to them whose souls are in 
 the immediate and special keeping of the Redeemer. What 
 would one not give to be quite sure of this % and I verily 
 believe there is nothing which comes so near to assuring 
 tis of it in this life as very great affliction borne Christianly 
 for His sake. When one has such a source of comfort as 
 this, it is superfluous, at least it would be but for our frailty, 
 to talk of earthly friends ; but as it is, the prayers and good 
 wishes of so many servants of God as I firmly believe inter- 
 cede for you and your's continually, that this rod may 
 either be speedily removed, or felt as what it is doubtless 
 meant to be, a blessing ; here is another source of consolar 
 tion which may now and then, I trust, innocently and effec- 
 tually be used to repress tliat feeling of desolation which, in 
 spite of piety and Christian knowledge, will sometimes, I 
 know too well, intrude itself. But you have your comforts • 
 in yourself) and I am not sure whether I have said any- 
 thing to the purpose. Would that my prayers for you; 
 could make up for the deficiency in what I say and write 
 to you." 
 
 In July it was still doubtful whether the Corpus- 
 
Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 scheme for his brother could now be carried into 
 effect, but they were in hopes it might, as indeed it 
 was ; and after discussing this, he ends a letter to me, 
 of July 7, 1 8 19, thus characteristically: — 
 
 " As for myself, worthy Sir, I get on much as I used to 
 do, always having a great load of things to do, and hardly 
 ever finishing any thing. Tom's plans of tuition have set 
 us upon, reading together rather more than we used to do, 
 which I find a great comfort and, I beheve, advantage; 
 one thing is that, in reading with another, one cannot stand 
 so long poring over a passage, doubting whether you under- 
 stand it or no : or perhaps but half thinking of it, a mode 
 of wasting time of which I profess myself very guilty. We 
 are reading over the Ethics together, and I propose going 
 on afterwards to compare the Stagyrite with Plato, Butler, 
 Paley, Smith, and others who have written more or less 
 systematically on the subject. I wish also to be not un- 
 mindful of your recommendation to acquaint myself better 
 with Greek criticism, but hardly know how to set about it 
 I am reading Sophocles again, and marking ever3rthing that 
 strikes me, but I do not feel any improvement I am afraid 
 I shall always be a<^6hpa lixnav in these matters. Luckily 
 we have got one man in Oriel that cries ' whew' at a false 
 quantity, i. e. Tyler. I am babbling on, and not telling you 
 what I daresay you have hardly heard yet, that George 
 Cornish was married on Saturday. Tucker and I took him 
 as far as Lichfield on his way into Derbyshire, in doing 
 which we went over our old Warwickshire tour ; and I was 
 very melancholy at the tliought of what an ass I then made 
 of myself; so to keep up my spirits I made myself twice as 
 great an ass. All here, Tom especially, desire most loving 
 congratulations. Ever most affectionately yours, J. K." 
 
Tutorship at Oriel. 89 
 
 His letters remind me that in 18 19 I was engaged 
 in the prosecution of some of those libels, which, by 
 a stimulating mixture of profaneness and sedition 
 with some humour and ability, obtained great circu- 
 lation at that period, and I must have consulted him 
 as to topics for the opening which I expected to 
 devolve on me ; the trials were to be at the Quarter 
 Sessions : a part of his advice is so full of good sense 
 and so characteristic, that I insert it here : he dates 
 from Fairford, Oct. 12, 18 19: — 
 
 " Of one thing, were I in your place, I should be par- 
 ticularly careful, i. e. how I indulged myself too far in pane- 
 gyrics on things as they are ; at least I feel that were I on 
 a jury, I should be much more likely to be influenced by 
 the representations of a man who seemed to see and de- 
 plore the too palpabla occasion lent by the conduct of too 
 many Christians and loyalists to such libels as these, than 
 I should by the flaming panegyrics which many on the 
 right side (e.g. the 'Courier,' and sometimes the 'British 
 Critic') are continually trumpeting forth. To say the truth, 
 though in a political light these agitators are perhaps as 
 bad as anything can well be, I do not think them half 
 so dangerous enemies to religion, i. e. to the souls of men, 
 as wicked, worldly-minded Christians are." 
 
 He passed his Christmas Vacation, that of 1819 
 — 1820, as usual at Fairford, and I have seen many 
 letters which passed between him and the family of 
 the Curate of Fladbury, Mr. Pruen, with whom he 
 had become intimate in the course of his visits to his 
 
90 Memoir of the Rev. yohn Keble. 
 
 Godfather the Rector. These shew with what hearti- 
 ness he joined in the social meetings of the season^ 
 kept up as it should seem very genially in the neigh- 
 bourhood. As a younger man, and before he was in 
 Holy Orders, no one enjoyed a dance more than he; 
 nor did he think it now at all unbecoming to take 
 his part in those which in truth were of the simplest 
 kind, and scarcely more than family reunions. His- 
 religion, then and to the end, was cheerful, as was 
 his natural temperament; and it may be collected 
 from his letters at this period of his life what a fa- 
 vourite he was with young and old, how much his 
 visits were courted, and his friendship valued. I men- 
 tion the Pruen family as an instance ; it consisted of 
 the father and mother, a governess as I collect, and 
 a numerous family, principally girls of different ages,, 
 but all apparently at the time I speak of in the 
 school-room, or, as to one or two, just issuing from 
 it. Many letters passed between him and them, full 
 of merriment and fun, queer riddles, familiar poetry,, 
 -with sometimes graver matters insinuated ; I do not 
 publish them, and yet they exhibit in a lively way 
 that side of his character, well known indeed to those 
 ■who were intimate with him, but of which those who 
 only knew him at a distance, or by his writings, or 
 later in life, can scarcely be aware. Somehow, as 
 life advanced on both sides, and graver interests 
 absorbed him, the intercourse between him and the 
 members of tliis family appears to have ceased, but 
 
Tutorship at Oriel. gr 
 
 not the kindly feeling. It was when he was at Bourne- 
 mouth, in the last illness of himself and Mrs. Keble, 
 that one of his former young friends, Margaret Pruen,. 
 who had married and I believe become a widow,, 
 wrote to him from Torquay; I do not know the 
 subject of her letter, it was probably to inquire 
 about his health, and to remind him of old times- 
 and old feelings ; I cannot forbear to print the an- 
 swer which he wrote : the writing is in a very feeble 
 hand, a sad contrast to the firm and distinct cha- 
 racter of the letters from which I have hitherto been 
 quoting : it may seem a sad, yet it is a very soothing 
 
 close to the correspondence : — 
 
 " Bournemouth, 
 Jan. 17, 1866. 
 "My dear Margaret, 
 " For why should I not speak as in the old times which 
 you so kindly remember? you put me to shame by your 
 kind, long letter, long, I mean, in comparison of what I can 
 vvrite ; and by your affectionate remembrance of one who 
 has somehow been drawn so far away from you all. It is 
 too good of you, but to me refreshing, to have such a report 
 of your dear sister and the rest who are left you. I thank 
 you for it ; and all of you, in sight and out of sight, I thank, 
 for your constant kindness with all my heart, and trust to 
 be remembered by you at this time, especially then when we 
 all wish most to be remembered. For my dear wife's long 
 trial of illness seems now to be approaching its end; we came 
 here in October, being obliged to go somewhere, and she- 
 feeling herself unequal to the journey further west, and she 
 certainly gains no strength : but thanks be to God, as far 
 as health allows, she is bright and cheerful as ever, and 
 
92 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 takes all her old interest in things. I send her kind love 
 with my own. I cannot write more at present ; except that 
 I am very sorry to hear of Henry's painful complaint, and 
 not a little ashamed to think of my Godson, and how I have 
 neglected him all this time. I yet hope we may have some 
 communication, although my chance of it, humanly speak- 
 ing, is fast lessening : however, assure him of my constant 
 remembrance of him. What you say of your dear Anne's 
 gentleness, and loving simple ways, brings her back to me 
 as I could wish, and so does the place about Fladbuiy 
 churchyard. 
 
 " God grant us all, how unworthy soever some of us may 
 now feel ourselves, a happy meeting in the end ! 
 
 " I am always, my dear friend, 
 " Affectionately yours, 
 
 "J. Keble." 
 " To Mrs. Billamore, 
 
 "6, Scarborough-terrace, Torquay. 
 
 It was at the Oxford Commemoration of 1820 
 that Southey revisited the University; he had at 
 that time effectively overcome the prejudices which 
 political differences, and the clever hostility, miscalled 
 criticism, of the "Edinburgh Review," and it must 
 be confessed some of his own peculiarities, had raised 
 against his literary reputation. His merits as a poet, 
 historian, and essayist, were now fairly appreciated, 
 and the many, who approached him at all nearly,' 
 were enthusiastic in the admiration of the purity of 
 his character, and the generous geniality of his na- 
 ture. I think I have mentioned elsewhere that I had 
 been the means of making him known as a writer 
 
Tutorship at Oriel. 93 
 
 to Keble in the early days of our friendship. I had 
 now the good fortune of being able to make them 
 personally known to each other ; Southey was much 
 pleased with Keble : writing to me a few days after 
 upon another matter which interested us all three very 
 deeply, he says shortly : " All that Keble says upon 
 the subject is full of kindness and right feeling, and 
 would make me think more highly of the writer than 
 I did before, if that had been easy." Keble wrote of 
 him, to me and to Dyson, at greater length ; his re- 
 marks in both are striking, and I will subjoin them 
 here : — 
 
 "My dear John. Coleridge, 
 " Many thanks to you for this new and great kindness of 
 making me acquainted with Southey : for I owe it entirely 
 to you. He is indeed a noble' and delightfiil character, 
 and I hope to be the better all my life for what I have 
 seen of him and heard from him. Luckily for me (though 
 I am afraid rather irksomely for him) he has hardly any ac- 
 quaintance resident in Oxford, having completely out-lived 
 all his old contemporaries, so that I had a good deal of 
 him to myself: and that was indeed delightful. Whatever 
 his notions may have been, and however incautiously he may 
 have sometimes expressed himself, I am satisfied his notions 
 are now as nearly correct, meaning by 'correct,' agree- 
 able to my own, both in religion and politics, as almost 
 any of theirs whom one most loves and trusts in. The 
 only thing which seems to me wrong in them, is a disposi- 
 tion which I sometimes fancy I observe in him, and which 
 is common to him with three-fourths of the orthodox men 
 in the kingdom, to confound the two together : I mean, to 
 
94 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 deal politically with the Church and religion. His recep- 
 tion in the Theatre was most flattering : not one of all the 
 party, except Lord Hill, received anything like the same 
 share of applause. In the evening he had an invitation 
 from the College to dine in Balliol Hall. Reginald Heber, 
 Miller, and Milman were there, and Noel Ellison was de- 
 lightful : I have never seen four such men together in my 
 life before. Copleston wanted him to dine with him on 
 Thursday, but he was obliged to leave us, to my sorrow, 
 and left a most excellent name behind him, for his kind 
 -and unassuming manners, with every one who had been in 
 his company for five minutes.'' 
 
 Writing to Dyson, he says : — 
 
 "I had the great delight this last Commemoration of 
 ■being introduced to the two public characters, whom of all 
 others I should rather wish to know, Southey and Reginald 
 Heber. I Hked both exceedingly, but Heber decidedly 
 best : he is so remarkably unaffected in his manner ; . I 
 ■watched him all the time they were performing ' Palestine' 
 in the Theatre, and he did not attitudinize in tlie least, nor 
 seem conscious of being the chief character in the room ; 
 and then his style of conversation is so particularly kind 
 -and hearty. Southey has a good deal of the same excel- 
 lencies ; but he gives you the idea of a man forbearing to 
 display himself, Heber of one into whose head no such 
 ithing ever entered. Nevertheless Southey quite made good 
 his ground in my favour, more completely a good deal than 
 I had expected. He is now an ortliodox man, and the 
 ;faults of his views in ecclesiastical matters are, as far as 
 I could judge from what he said, the faults into which such 
 persons are most apt to fall — making religion too much 
 a matter of politics — and the like." 
 
Tutorship at Oriel. 95 
 
 Personal comparisons are too often made in igno- 
 rance or forgetfulness of the differing circumstances 
 under which individuals present themselves for con- 
 sideration, and I cannot but think that for some such 
 reasons my dear friend, in this, did a little injustice 
 to Robert Southey. Heber was then comparatively 
 a young man, quite at home in Oxford, an Oxonian of 
 the day, in a position perfectly secure, in a place where 
 he was most justly and universally popular, in the scene 
 of all his successes and triumphs, surrounded by the 
 friends of his own day — the only novel circumstance of 
 the hour was, that he was present when his own poem 
 was performed as an Oratorio, in the place where he 
 but a few years before had recited it as a Prize : it 
 would be undervaluing so good and great a man to 
 think there was anything intoxicating in all this, any- 
 thing to disturb the calmness of a really modest man. 
 Southey was a much older man, an Oxonian of a day 
 Jong past, who had had to win his position in the 
 world, fighting his way step by step against opposi- 
 tion fair and unfair, through poverty and hardship, 
 in spite of ridicule, obloquy, slander, and lieglect — 
 slowly he had gained a great one : and where was he 
 when Keble met him? at Oxford, which had been 
 no scene of success or credit to him as a student, 
 which he had left without a degree in youth, where 
 he found no contemporary friend, where he was now 
 for the first time returning in mature age, to receive 
 all the honour it could bestow — at the suggestion it 
 
96 Memoir of tJte Rev. John Keble. 
 
 should seem of the very party, which had never 
 cheered him in his struggles, nor been over for- 
 ward to greet him in his success. Did not these 
 circumstances tend to provoke somewhat of self- 
 assertion ? did they not moreover irresistibly sug- 
 gest recollections and thoughts calculated to turn 
 his thoughts inwards, and to raise somewhat dis- 
 turbing feelings ? When I asked myself this question, 
 I naturally turned to his letters ; there will be found 
 in the fifth volume of his son's Memoirs of him, two 
 letters, one a playful account of the whole visit written 
 to his three daughters, the other, which follows imme- 
 diately, to Neville White ; they are at pages 38 and 41. 
 There will be seen, by the last, a little of what was 
 passing in his mind at the time. I know that the first, 
 perhaps in general the abiding and not unnatural, im- 
 pression as to Southey was and is, that he was a vain 
 man ; like the great Roman Orator and Philosopher, 
 he was a man of great ability, and remarkable in- 
 dustry, and he knew it ; he knew what he could have 
 done, if he had been blessed with more independent 
 means, and he knew the value of what he had ac- 
 tually done ; and it is neither wonderful nor unpardon- 
 able, if such a man, when critics and wits have been 
 for years sneering at him, and thwarting his efforts, 
 should acquire somewhat of a habit of thinking and 
 saying what, as coming from himself, seem great 
 things of those efforts and their results. One thing 
 let me observe, a more generous soul never existed ; 
 
Tutorship at Oriel. 97 
 
 generous of his money when he had it, generous 
 always of his time which was to him money, yet 
 who ever heard him breathe a syllable of self- 
 applause on this ? 
 
 I must add the short passage, which I spoke of, in 
 the letter to Neville White, and hope to be forgiven 
 for a digression, extorted from me by a sense of 
 justice, not less than by sincere gratitude for much 
 and most valuable kindness shewn to myself when 
 I needed it much. 
 
 " My visit to Oxford brought with it feelings of the most 
 opposite kind. After the exhibition in the Theatre, and the 
 collation in Brasenose Hall given by the Vice-Chancellor, 
 I went alone into Christ Church walks, where I had not 
 been for six and twenty years. Of the friends with whom 
 I used to walk there, many (and among them some of the 
 dearest) were in their graves. I was then inexperienced, 
 headstrong, and as full of errors as of youth and hope and 
 ardour. Through the mercy of God, I have retained the 
 whole better part of my nature, and as for the lapse of 
 years, that can never be a mournful consideration to one 
 who hopes to be ready for a better world, whenever his 
 hour may come. God bless you. R. S." 
 
 Through life a tour in the country was among 
 Keble's most pleasurable indulgences, and his posi- 
 tion at Oriel now making him more at ease in his 
 circumstances, he seems usually to have devoted 
 a part of the Long Vacation to a ramble, often alone, 
 and often making a circuit among his old Oxford in- 
 timates retired into the country. Thus I find him in 
 
 H 
 
98 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 Worcestershire, and at Lichfield in 18 19, in the sum- 
 mer. My manuscript copy of the exquisite stanzas 
 "on a monument in Lichfield Cathedral" is dated 
 July 22, 18 19. No one who has read them can 
 doubt that they were suggested by a sight of the 
 monument, and probably commenced on the spot. 
 My copy I may say has but a few verbal differ- 
 ences from the copy which is printed in "Church 
 Poetry," p. 301, but it -wants one stanza, so necessary 
 almost to the completeness of the Poem, that I sup- 
 pose I must have omitted it through carelessness. 
 In return, mine has four stanzas at the close, sepa- 
 rated by a few crosses, and with a very slight varia- 
 tion in the metre; these are addressed to himself. 
 The variation is produced by lengthening the fourth 
 line of each stanza, and is not a very happy one ; and 
 judgment was shewn in printing the poem witliout 
 them ; at the same time, they are characteristic of the 
 man, and represent, I have no doubt accurately, the 
 humble application to himself, which he would make 
 on such an object before him, and such a train of 
 thought as he had indulged in. It was no less cha- 
 racteristic to keep from the public this application. 
 
 In September, 1820, he made a longer tour, and 
 visited Ellison at his living of Whalton in North- 
 umberland, and Davison at his of Washington in the 
 county of Durham ; these places he made centres 
 for riding excursions to the objects of interest in the 
 neighbourhood, among them not forgetting Stan- 
 
Tutorship at Oriel. 99 
 
 ^ — — 1 
 
 hope, the residence for many years of Bishop Butlei-. 
 Then coming south, he visited Dyson at Nunburn- 
 liolme. His journey homeward he shall tell himself, 
 as he described it in a letter to Dyson from Fair- 
 ford, of September ii, 1820. 
 
 "Perhaps you will like to have some account of my 
 journey. I got safe home — that you know from the date 
 of this — and you know from Penrose that I staid at Fled- 
 borough by the way — but you do not know that I waited 
 at Hayton half an hour for the Coach ; you do not know 
 that I travelled to York holding a drunken sailor by the 
 button, lest he should tumble off; and you cannot possibly 
 have the least idea of my delight, when I found myself in 
 the Minster at sunset that most gorgeous evening; no, 
 your low mind, debased by immoderate indulgence in Pock- 
 lington biscuits and the vulgar smell of sweet-peas, cannot 
 ■enter into pleasures of so high a kind. In good earn- 
 ■est I reckoned myself particularly fortunate in my viev/ 
 of tl'ie Minster : I spent two or tliree hours there, and 
 could hardly find anything to damp my enjoyment. My 
 ■coffee house companion was Sir Thomas Bernard's ' Com- 
 forts of Old Age,' a very proper book for persons of a cer- 
 tain time of life, and very useful to me ; as, though there 
 were abundance of persons in the room, none of them 
 seemed disposed to take much notice of me, and I was too 
 ■shy (you know my usual amiable diffidence) to make the 
 first advances. The night journey was an interchange of 
 sleeping and grumbling, with a little sickliness now and 
 then, by way of variety, on the part of some of my fellow- 
 travelleresses. So you may believe that I was not sorry 
 when it was light, and I could see the pleasant country 
 to the north of Doncaster, and the town of Doncaster 
 
100 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 itself, at the elegance of which I was quite surprised. But 
 it was still pleasanter to enter upon the rich vale of Trent j 
 and pleasantest of all to discern Penrose's face, half-grin- 
 ning, half-business-like, waiting for me in a gig, at the 
 place and time appointed. Right glad was I to find my- 
 self snug under another parsonage roof, and to become 
 acquainted with his family, who seem as well suited to 
 their situation, and it to them, as any group I ever beheld. 
 I cannot conceive how Arnold could have the heart to 
 disturb such a family party by taking one away. I find 
 by a letter which I received yesterday from Penrose, that 
 he has been paying you a flying visit. For this I take 
 some credit to myself, having taken some pains to assure 
 him how glad you would be to have him there. He main- 
 tains that yours is a more retired place than Fledborough : 
 but this cannot be, because you know there is a road 
 through Nunburnholme to Warter ; whereas you have heard 
 of the finger-post 'to Fledborough and no farther.' Not 
 but that I contrived to get farther; for under Penrose's 
 able steerage I tnade my way to Lincoln, criticised the 
 in-, and admired the out-side of the Cathedral as busOy 
 as I could for two hours. I really think, on the whole 
 I prefer the latter to that at York ; but the inside architec- 
 ture will not bear a comparison ; if indeed one can judge 
 fairly of it, now it is so disfigured by yellow wash, and plain 
 glass where painted was evidently intended. I went up to 
 the top of the lantern tower, and was particularly pleased 
 with the view of the city, with its profusion of ruins scat- 
 tered about it. I like the country for a reason more sen- 
 timental than picturesque — namely, that I think it like my 
 own. Having enjoyed myself for exactly a week, I set out 
 on the Friday morning by the mail for London, and got 
 into the Great City just in time to mount a Stroud coach, 
 
Tutorship at Oriel. lOi 
 
 which set me down at papa's door about six in the after- 
 noon of Saturday." 
 
 In July, 1822, he made a tour of visits, which took 
 in the Millers at Bockleton in Worcestershire, and his 
 old friend, a former curate of Fairford, Mr. Richards, 
 then residing in the neighbourhood of Aberystwith. 
 Writing to Cornish from Malvern, on July 8, which 
 he said he had reached, being on a voyage of dis- 
 covery, i.e. Searching out the nearest way from Fair- 
 ford to Bockleton, he continues thus : — 
 
 " Malvern, 
 July 8, 1822. 
 " I wish you had been with me on the hill just now, and 
 then I should not have gone to sl^ep in a sort of cave, 
 which they have cut out, looking all over Herefordshire, 
 with a telescope in my hand, reading Spenser. Do you 
 know the ' Shepherd's Calendar?' I think you did not use to 
 know it, for you did not use to quote it, which you cer- 
 tainly would. What a delightful feel it is to sit under the 
 shelter of one of the rocks here, and hear the wind sweep- 
 ing with that peculiar kind of strong moaning sigh, which 
 it practises on the bent grass. I daresay you have marked 
 it 100 times; but I was never so much struck with it as 
 this evening. And what an air of sanctity the church gives 
 to the place. I pick out spots (luckily the trees and houses 
 are so grouped that there are a good many) where one 
 quite loses every thing smart and townish, and then I quite 
 enjoy it; more I think now than when I was here before. 
 I was not alone, but with Rickards, who was bent on visit- 
 ing rather than scenery, and in love besides; and when 
 
I02 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 a man is in love, you know he is a terrible touring com- 
 panion to all the world, but one." 
 To G. J. C. 
 
 I insert this extract not merely for the amusing con- 
 trast which it presents between the Malvern of 1822^ 
 and the Malvern of 1867, but for the passage about: 
 the bent grass, which is reproduced in the beautiful 
 verses on the Twentieth Sunday after Trinity, which 
 Robertson of Brighton liked the best of all in " The- 
 Christian Year " : — 
 
 " . . . . The fitful sweep 
 Of winds across the steep. 
 Through wither'd bents — romantic note and clear. 
 Meet for a hermit's ear." 
 
 In these years there is no doubt that he was 
 gradually composing the work, and these solitary 
 tours (for he seems most often to have wandered alone,. 
 leaving his brother to take his place at home) were- 
 certainly favourable to such occupation. The dates- 
 of such poems of " The Christian Year" as I have in. 
 my manuscript books, are in 18 19, and in 1822. 
 
 In 1 82 1 Keble again accepted the office of Ex- 
 amining Master, and continued to serve until the 
 Easter of 1823 inclusive; but he was sighing for 
 ■a return to his home and curacy. 
 
 " We here at Oxford," says he in a letter in the spring of' 
 1823, "go on much as usual, criticizing sermons, eating, 
 
Resigns Tutorship. loj 
 
 dinners, and laughing at Buckland and Shuttleworth. I feel 
 as if I should be very glad to get away to some country 
 curacy, and yet I distrust my own powers of making good 
 company from myself too ; but really a man ought to be 
 able to do so, and one should hope one might never be 
 quite too old to learn that lessoni." 
 
 Partly I suppose from this feeling he appears to 
 have entertained a notion about this time of ac- 
 cepting a very small living in the gift of the Col- 
 lege,, Coleby in Lincolnshire. This, however, came to 
 nothing, and the living was ultimately bestowed on 
 his and my friend Trevenen Penrose, who passed the 
 remainder of his life there, protracted to a good' old 
 age, in the most exemplary discharge of his duty. 
 
 The Tutorship, however, he resigned at the end 
 of Hilary Term in that year, and the death of his 
 mother in May brought his residence in College 
 to a close also ; he had gone down to Fairford on 
 Saturday in each week as usual, and each time found 
 her decline more decided. On Saturday, May lo, on 
 his arrival he found her so much worse, that it was 
 clear her end was approaching, and she died very 
 early on Sunday morning. 
 
 "I found," says he, writing to me on the 13th, "-they 
 were expecting her release every moment : and at 4 o'clock 
 on Sunday morning I may literally say she fell aslteep, for 
 never did I see such perfect, such dovelike calmness — ^not 
 that I was by her at the time. Mary Anne was the only 
 
104 Memoir of the Rev. John Kehle. 
 
 one of us who had that happiness, for she had had, from 
 extreme weakness, two or three nervous or hysterical spasms 
 in the course of the preceding day, and it was judged better 
 for us to keep at a distance unless she asked for us. I lay 
 down in my clothes thinking she might do so, but she did 
 not ; so the last time I spoke to her was last Wednesday. 
 But I thought I never saw anything so like an angel as that 
 dear Mary Anne when she waked me on Sunday morning 
 to tell me that marnma was just gone so sweetly, with 
 hardly a sigh. One is apt to think too much of such 
 things, which are but trifles after all, in comparison of the 
 change to which they lead ; but, upon earth, I can hardly 
 conceive a more speaking call for thankfulness than for 
 one's dearest relations to be allowed to glide in such a way, 
 without pain, disturbance, or wandering of mind, just out 
 of sight into Paradise. You will pray for us, my dear 
 friend, and dear Mrs. Coleridge will, too, that we may be 
 something like thankful enough for it: duly thankful we 
 never can be. . . . As they were all so well at Fairford, it 
 was judged best for me to come back and get through my 
 business here." 
 
 Writing from Oriel at the same time to Dyson, 
 he says : — 
 
 " I meet with so much kindness here, and feel so certain, 
 thank God, of their being comfortable at home, that it is 
 not at all irksome to me, at least not painfully so, as I 
 should have fancied it beforehand if anyone had told me. 
 As far as I can judge, the only real bitterness in parting 
 from dear friends is having to recollect how much one has 
 failed in one's duty to them; but it will not do to talk 
 of that." 
 
Death of Mrs. Keble. 105 
 
 I have made these extracts because they are at 
 once characteristic and instructive. Mrs. Keble was 
 the object of the most tender affection to every 
 member of the family, and to no one of it more so 
 than to her son ; yet he not only writes thus of his 
 father, .sister, and brother, but was himself able to 
 leave home as usual on Monday morning, and go 
 through his work in the Schools, returning only on 
 Saturday to the funeral. The truth is that his faith, 
 and I have no doubt their's, was sincere and practical ; 
 I never could find in him, when he lost the dearest 
 objects on earth, any sign of bittter sorrow as without 
 hope ; he had no dread of death- for the good, he 
 perfectly realized the blessedness of the change for 
 them, and he looked forward cheerfully and humbly 
 to a re-union. It was, too, a part of his practical 
 belief that even now the separation was not absolute ; 
 it was not merely in poetry that he expressed, more 
 than once, this cheering thought. It appears again 
 and again in his letters at different periods of his life. 
 Writing of a deceased sister he says, — 
 
 " For well I guess, and oft my spright 
 Holds tearful triumph in the dream, 
 That when Religion's holy light 
 
 Guides me with pure and placid gleam ; — 
 
 " When I do good, and think aright, 
 At peace with man, resigned to God, 
 Thou look'st on me with eye of light, 
 Tasting new joy in joy's abode. 
 
io6 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 " But in my dark and evil hour, 
 
 When wan despair mine eyelids seals. 
 When worldly passions round me lower, 
 And all the man corruption feels ; 
 
 " Thou turnest not thine eyes below, 
 Or clouds of glory beam between, 
 Lest earthly pangs of fear or woe 
 Upon an angel's brow be seen." 
 
 It was thus he answered the difficulty whiclr 
 troubles so many in believing that departed saints- 
 retain a perception of the goodness and happiness- 
 of those whom they have left behind. I do not mean, 
 of course, that he had shaped this out to his own 
 mind as a certain truth ; but I have no doubt that he 
 believed, so as practically to draw consolation from it 
 under bereavement, that the blessed in the interme- 
 diate state retained some knowledge of things on earth,, 
 some interest in those who survived ; believing this,, 
 he of course believed that Our Father would have 
 His way, unknown to us, perhaps inconceivable by 
 us, of so regulating that knowledge, that though it 
 might, on the one hand, increase, it should never be 
 allowed, on the other, to abate their blessedness ; and 
 what that way might be, he would not even shadow 
 out to himself but dimly, and as it were sugges- 
 tively or alternately. Speaking in poetry on such 
 a subject he would feel under as much restraint sub- 
 stantially as if he were writing in prose. But I feel 
 
Death of Mrs. Kelle. lei- 
 
 sure that he thought the belief warranted and not 
 unscriptural, used it for himself as consolatory, and 
 did not scruple to recommend it to others. The- 
 exquisite poem in the Lyra Innocentium, entitled 
 "Bereavement, — Children's Troubles, 8," expounds 
 it very touchingly. 
 
 Thus ended his permanent and official residence- 
 at Oxford 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 RETURN TO FAIRFORD, 1823.— SOUTHROP. — PUPILS. 
 — HURRELL FROUDE. — "CHRISTIAN YEAR." 
 
 KEBLE had now been one of the Tutors of his 
 College for nearly five years, and had a second 
 time served the office of Public Examiner, as well 
 as that of Master of the Schools once, he might 
 therefore feel justified in ceasing to be a Resident 
 Fellow, returning to his father and two surviving 
 sisters, and resuming the charge of his two little 
 Curacies. His father's health and strength were still 
 rem'arkable for his great age, but both were liable to 
 sudden changes, and his spirits and sense of duty 
 led him frequently to undertake more personal la- 
 bour at Coin than was prudent for him. The health, 
 too, of his sisters was a source of very^ frequent soli- 
 citude to him ; his letters again and again testify to 
 this. The pleasure of returning to his home was 
 greatly augmented by its combining also the return 
 to a more regular discharge of his professional duties. 
 The amount of these he now added to by accept- 
 ing the Curacy of Southrop, a small parish very 
 near to Eastleach and Burthorpe, as well as to Fair- 
 ford. This accumulation of cures, indeed the whole 
 arrangement in regard to them between the two 
 brothers, seems to require some explanation, to 
 
Return to Fair ford, 182S. 109 
 
 those especially who are familiar only with the 
 more orderly practice of the present day ; and this 
 is afforded by the circumstances ; their small size 
 and nearness to each other, their slender population, 
 their miserably poor endowments, and their want of 
 attractiveness generally to clergymen. The entire 
 population of the three did not exceed a thousand. 
 Eastleach and Burthorpe churches were within a 
 stone's throw of each other, there was no residence 
 except at Southrop. The undertaking the care of 
 them was indeed a labour of love, the whole receipts 
 exceeded very little ;£"ioo a-year, and I have no 
 doubt fell short considerably of what was expended 
 upon them. The district indeed, if I may judge 
 from these cures, and Coin St. Aldwyn's, was one of 
 shamefully scanty endowments ; the value of that 
 being only ^60 a-year. These circumstances seem 
 to have interested the two brothers, who took to 
 them as charges providentially thrown in their way 
 by their neighbourhood to Fairford ; and their father 
 was ready at all times, in their necessary absences, 
 to provide for the calls which might casually arise. 
 
 Keble had now bid adieu to public tuition ; his 
 pupils at Oriel had testified to their sense of his 
 services by a handsome present of plate, inscribed 
 JOHANNI KEBLE DISCIPULORUM ORIELENSIUM PIE- 
 TAS MDCCCXXIII. ; and I observe in passing as cha- 
 racteristic of the degree to which he shrunk from 
 all exhibition, that intimate as I was with him, I 
 
I lo Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 >not only never saw this plate, but I was not even 
 aware of the fact of its having been given to him, 
 until I found it stated in the Memoir to which I 
 have more than once before expressed my obliga- 
 tions. I know not whether such testimonials are. 
 now common, but that age was not so demonstra- 
 tive of affection or gratitude in silver and gold as 
 the present, and at that time, especially after a ser- 
 vice of so few years, such a gift was very unusual. 
 It seems to shew how Keble had addressed himself 
 ^successfully to the hearts as well as the intellects of 
 his pupils. It was a thing to be proud of ; he would 
 be sure to think it was undeserved, and therefore 
 perhaps he would say little about it to his friends. 
 
 But it would not the less move his affections, 
 and it might be an inducement the more to accept 
 the Curacy of Southrop, where was a good roomy 
 house. To this village several of his pupils followed 
 him occasionally for long visits; some received into 
 the house, some finding lodgings near : among these 
 I may name Robert Wilberforce, Isaac Williams, 
 Hurrell Froude. They were visitors more properly 
 than pupils ; at least he would accept no remunera- 
 tion from them, nor would he allow them to inter- 
 fere with the discharge of his parochial duties. He 
 • called himself an idle lounging man, and he had at 
 all times a desultory, and seemingly irregular way 
 •of working; but when these occupations are con- 
 sidered, and also how effectually they were disposed 
 
Hurrell Froude. 1 1 r 
 
 of, there can be no doubt that his time was well 
 filled up. 
 
 Of Hurrell Froude Dr. Newman has written, " He 
 was a pupil of Keble's, formed by him, and in turn 
 re-acting upon him." This sentence is followed by 
 -a short and striking account of this extraordinary- 
 man, to which it would be unwise in me to attempt 
 any addition, except as it may bear on the object 
 ■of this memoir. I knew him from a child, and I 
 trace in the^ somewhat singular composition of his 
 character what he inherited both from his father 
 •and his highly gifted mother ; his father, whom 
 Keble after his first visit to Dartington Parsonage 
 playfully described to me as "very amiable, but 
 provokingly intelligent, one quite uncomfortable to 
 think of, making one ashamed of going gawking as 
 one is wont to do about the world, without under- 
 .^tanding anything one sees ;" his mother very beau- 
 tiful in person, and delicate in constitution, with 
 -a highly expressive countenance, and gifted in in- 
 tellect with the genius and imagination which his 
 father failed in. Like the one he was clever, know- 
 ing, quick, and handy ; like the other he was sensi- 
 tive intellectual, imaginative. He came to Keble 
 full of respect for his character ; he was naturally 
 soon won by his affectionateness and simplicity, 
 and in turn he was just the young man in whom 
 Keble would at once take an interest and delight 
 -as a pupil; and so in fact it was. I find him. 
 
112 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 again and again in Keble's letters spoken of in the 
 most loving language, yet often not without some 
 degree of anxiety as to his future course ; he saw 
 the elements of danger in him, how liable he might 
 be to take a wrong course, or be misunderstood even 
 when taking a right one ; yet his hopes largely pre- 
 vailed; and especially I remember his rejoicing at 
 his being elected Fellow of Oriel, thinking that the 
 new society and associations, with the responsibilities 
 of college employment, would tend to keep him safe. 
 That Keble acted on him (I would rather use that 
 term, than "formed,") is certain, and even when, 
 in the later years of his short life, symptoms of 
 coming differences in opinion may be traced in his 
 letters, there is no abatement of personal love and 
 reverence, nor indeed, in a certain sense, of his feel- 
 ing the weight of Keble's influence; and though I 
 gather from these that there was more entire agree- 
 ment with Dr. Newman as to action, yet it seems to 
 me that there still remained a closer intimacy and 
 more filial feeling with regard to Keble. I may be 
 mistaken in this ; it is a conclusion I have come to 
 from reading the letters in that strangely interesting 
 book, "The Remains," and inferring from them the 
 nature of Keble's letters to him, which I very much 
 regret that I have not been able to procure a sight of. 
 
 I have not altered this passage, but since the 
 volume was printed and published, a number of 
 these letters have been discovered, (it would seem 
 
Hurrell Froude. 113 
 
 by a strange accident,) and placed at my disposal 
 by Mr. William Froude. They fully justify my an- 
 ticipations as to their value and interest ; and so far 
 as I now can, I shall avail myself of his kind per- 
 mission. 
 
 I That Hurrell Froude " re-acted on Keble" is true 
 also, I have no doubt, in a certain sense; it could 
 scarcely be otherwise, where there was so much 
 ability and affectionate playfulness, with so much 
 originality on one side, so much humility on the 
 other, and so much love on both. It would be idle 
 to speculate on what might have been, when the 
 hour of trial canie, which none of those specially 
 engaged probably then foresaw ; before it arrived, 
 Hurrell Froude had sunk under the constitutional 
 malady against which he struggled for four years. 
 What he would have been," and what he would have 
 done, had his life been prolonged, no one can say ; 
 it would be unfair to judge him by what he left 
 behind, except as rich grounds of promise. This I 
 believe I may confidently say, that those who knew 
 him best loved him the most dearly, and expected 
 the most from him. This could be more truly said 
 of no one of these than of Keble. 
 
 It was while he was thus engaged, that he re- 
 ceived, I believe the only, offer that was ever made 
 him of a dignity in the Church. Early in 1824 it 
 was determined to constitute two Dioceses in the 
 West Indies, and William Hart Coleridge, then a 
 
 I 
 
114 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 Student of Christ Church, but who had been labour- 
 ing assiduously as Curate in a large London parish, 
 St. Andrew's, Holborn, was selected to 'preside over 
 that of Barbados and the Leeward Islands. He had 
 to appoint two Archdeacons, and he pressed Keble 
 to go out with him as Archdeacon of Barbados ; the 
 -endowment was a liberal one, ;£'2,ooo a-year. Keble 
 had a great regard and esteem for the young Bishop 
 whom he had known on friendly terms at Oxford, 
 and who, like himself, had achieved the honour of 
 a Double First Class. He was much gratified by 
 the offer, and, as he says in writing to Dyson, 
 " I might have been dazzled by it ;" but about 
 a month before it was made, on his return froni 
 Oxford, whither he liad gone to preach, he had 
 found his father with his speech considerably af- 
 fected, and with other symptoms calculated to make 
 ills children anxious about him. 
 
 " This," he says, in writing to me on March 2, 1824, *' as 
 you may suppose, was a strong ingredient in my reasoning 
 with myself on the very kind and too partial offer which 
 W. C. made me. My father was so agitated upon one's 
 pressing the matter in the least, that we all agreed m think- 
 ing I could not have done otherwise than I did, without 
 very serious injury to his health in its present state. Under 
 ;all the circumstances, liiis left me of course no choice, and 
 1 always think that is die greatest comfort, to have one's 
 way plainly marked out. It is to be hoped that the recol- 
 lection of such a proposal having been made will serve 
 & little to startle one from one's idleness, which I find by 
 
Archdeaconry of Barbados. 115 
 
 ■sad experience is likely to be the besetting sin of country- 
 parsons ; and not the least instance of it is neglect of cor- 
 respondents and distant friends. But one lives on every 
 •day in hopes of mending, and I suppose one must not de- 
 :spair of oneself quite, any more than of one's parishioners." 
 
 This would seem at first sight another instance 
 illustrating the cogency on Keble's mind of filial 
 .and other domestic obligations ; but it is right to 
 shew, from a letter to Dyson, in what light he re- 
 garded this particular call. It was not in his opinion 
 a case in which domesfic and professional duties came 
 at all into comparison or conflict with each other : — 
 
 " Talking of Archdeacons, what do you think ? what say 
 you to my going out Archdeacon to Barbados under W. 
 Coleridge : would you advise me to go out, or not ? (N.B. 
 I am ripe for asking advice). But do you remember some 
 of the conversations we had on things in general, when we 
 last met at Oxford ? I have often thought of them since ; 
 indeed I may say the subject of them is hardly ever out of 
 my mind for half an hour together. And in my cogitations 
 on this matter, I thought of them more than usual, because 
 they helped to confirm me in the resolution I knew I must 
 come to. Thinks I to myself, one cannot surely think of 
 a W. Indian Archdeaconry with 2,000 a-year, &c., &c., as 
 a sort X)f primitive mission to which everything must give 
 way. In short, thinks I to myself, 'tis a mere political 
 thing, and I'm sure Dyson would say the same. Never- 
 theless, I do not say I should not have been dazzled by it, 
 if my father had not been so decided as he was ; not so 
 much by what he said, as by his looks and manner. We 
 were all agreed that it was quite out of the question." 
 
li6 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 My cousin was influenced, I am sure, in making 
 his offer, both by personal regard, and a sincere 
 desire to select the most fitting person he could 
 find for an appointment of especial importance to 
 him in the settlement of the new Diocese ; but I 
 believe every one will now rejoice that Keble de- 
 clined to accept it. Had he gone to the West 
 Indies, and retained his health, I have no doubt he 
 would have discharged the duties of his office effec- 
 tively, and wherever he was, he must have been dis- 
 tinguished. "The Christian Year" was so far ad- 
 vanced at this time, that he probably would have 
 completed it; indeed, according to his own theory 
 of poetry, which would have justified its truth in no 
 one more than in himself, he could not but have 
 written it, and we should have had it, I suppose, 
 with a large infusion of tropical lights and imagery, 
 very striking and interesting. He would have finished 
 it slowly however, and very probably, being in some 
 sort removed from the influences of his home ad- 
 visers, he would have left it unpublished at his 
 death, according to his original intention. But at 
 a distance from European influences and friend- 
 ships, from the University, and the succeeding agi- 
 tations of the Church in England, he could not 
 have filled the useful and important place to which 
 he was now advancing ; and some of his works, such 
 for example as the Pralectiones, and the edition of 
 Hooker, we should certainly have lost. Considera- 
 
" The Christian Yearr i\J 
 
 tions of this kind of course did not occur to his mind, 
 nor influence his determination ; apart from all these, 
 however, it was one fuUy justified. 
 
 It was early in the following year (1825) that 
 Keble's letters shew him beginning to contemplate 
 seriously the publication of " The Christian Year " — 
 silently, or only with communications to his home 
 circle and some very few others, poem had been added 
 to poem; but his notion did not as yet go beyond 
 a posthumous publication at most, when he had 
 given the work as much perfection as he should be 
 capable of giving it. I think at that time he would 
 have shrunk a good deal from publishing anything — 
 there was not, it may be remembered, the same prone- 
 ness "to rush into print" which characterizes the pre- 
 sent time — ^but with regard to poems of a religious 
 character, and which affected the Church, he would, 
 of course, feel a greater scruple about publication. 
 Happily all his friends were against him — ^yielding 
 by inches, and delaying, even when the resolution 
 was taken, to accomplish it, the step was however 
 ultimately accomplished. In regard to such a work, 
 even these preliminary stages it may be interesting 
 to observe. 
 
 March 5, 1825, he writes to me from Fairford : — 
 
 " Now they are aU gone to bed, I wiU tell you a secret ; 
 which is that after all my backwardness (which I suppose 
 was chiefly affectation) on such subjects, I am in a fair vray 
 to commence author — ' only think,' as Ellison sa}'s — Mr. 
 Jeremiah Dyson, whose opinion on such a matter I take to 
 
1 1 8 Memoir of the Rev. John KeUe. 
 
 "be as safe as anybody's can be, strongly recommends me 
 to publish some of the hymns you wot of. It is against 
 my original plan, which was to complete the series if I 
 could, go on improving it all my life, and leave it to come 
 out, if judged useful, when I shall be fairly out of the way ; 
 and this is still my favourite plan — only I am afraid I am 
 in a way of being persuaded out of it. Do give me your 
 considerate, and 7iot partial opinion, which way would 
 answer best — for indeed the matter is too serious to bandy 
 compliments upon — that is to say, if it is worth thinking of 
 at all." 
 
 As to this notion of posthumous publication, I do 
 not remember that he ever mentioned, or was in any- 
 way influenced by the circumstance, that George 
 Herbert had formed the same resolution, and acted 
 upon it, in regard to the publication of the " Temple." 
 It is certainly at least a curious coincidence, that in 
 respect of two Poets, and two works so often com- 
 pared together, and so standing apart by themselves, 
 as it were, in our literature, the same unusual resolution 
 should have been formed. Keble would never have 
 thought of placing himself in comparison with Her- 
 bert, of whose poems he was a great admirer : yet he 
 could hardly have been ignorant of the fact, and he 
 might have been moved, even unconsciously, to follow 
 the example of so holy a man. 
 
 To Dyson he writes on the ist of April, 1S25 : — 
 
 " I am very much obliged to you for your kind intentions 
 with regard to the MS. I shall certainly pump you for 
 more criticism, whetlier anything come of the printing. 
 
" The Christian Year^ iiig 
 
 sckeme or no. The more I think of it, the more my fancy 
 would Lead me to wait till it might be posthumous. But 
 I must see what Johnny Davison says — I have sent hira 
 most of them — leaving out some which I think paltry, and- 
 others, which come, as it were,, too near home foe me tO' 
 like ta shew them much — some also' on account of their 
 going rather more thaint might be. approved of upon that 
 notion of decay in the Church, which you know I have for 
 some time entertained. It seemed to me that this had better 
 be established in prose first ; without something of that sort, 
 the hymns of which I speak would be hardly intelligible to 
 most readers." 
 
 To me he wrote in July : — 
 
 "With regard to my other little literary project I have 
 adfoumed it nominally till February — ^but I am in hopes 
 I shall have quite persuaded my persuaders to let it stand 
 over sine die, by the time February comes." 
 
 Writing to Cornish, in August of the. same year, 
 from Southrdp, he says : — 
 
 "Thank you fifty times for your nice little hint about 
 keeping back my MSS. for a good long while. I am quite 
 sure you are right ; and now there is less occasion to be 
 in a hurry, as Tucker says the Scotch Book, which had 
 pirated one of them, is come to another edition in which 
 it's left out." 
 
 Cornish, I have no douut, thought there viras still 
 much to do in the vsfay of correction, both as to 
 clearness of expression and smoothness in the mea- 
 sures, and this agreed entirely with Keble's own 
 
120 Memoir of the Rev. John KeUe. 
 
 opinion ; and although he went on with his prepa- 
 rations, the advice remained impressed upon his 
 mind : — 
 
 " I am just now," says he in September of the same year, 
 writing from Fladbury' to Dyson, "making up another 
 packet of hymns for Davison's revisal : and am coming to 
 a sound and judicious resolution against publishing, for 
 a good while yet at least." 
 
 What was Mr. Davison's advice, I have not the 
 means of ascertaining precisely ; from the general 
 constitution of his mind I should expect that al- 
 though his criticism in detail would be minute and 
 severe, and his advice in favour of great deliberation, 
 yet he would look through all questions of detail to 
 the substantial merits, and the great importance of 
 the work in a religious point of view ; and therefore 
 be against long delay. It is clear, I think, that with 
 Keble left alone, a degree of caution which we may 
 now safely pronounce exaggerated would have pre- 
 vailed ; this would have been dictated by his hu- 
 mility, which underrated the merit of everything he 
 did, and perhaps, even in this instance, more by his 
 sense of the responsibility of a work, which sought 
 to influence in some sort the religious belief and 
 practice of his readers. 
 
 On the 26th of September in the same year he 
 writes about "the verses" to Froude; and I the ra- 
 ther print what follows, because I notice in it the 
 
The Theory of Poetry. 12 1 
 
 first indication of the theory of Poetry, which he laid 
 down formally afterwards in his PrcBlectiones. 
 
 " Lenham, near Maidstone, 
 26 Sepf., 1825. 
 " My dear Fellow, 
 " As Tyler begins, when he is in a jolly mood, these are 
 ' to thank you very much for the trouble you have taken 
 about them there things of mine, and still more for your 
 telling me exactly what you think about them; for w'^'' I 
 shall hold you in greater honour as long as I live. For 
 to say the truth, I look upon thorough honesty in this kind 
 to be a rare thing in critic-land. I am not so partial to my 
 own crockery, as not to be myself aware of the want of 
 poetical depth, and fervour, w* disqualifies many or most 
 of them from being of much use to imaginative people ; 
 but if they only serve as helps to the memory of plain, 
 good sort of people, that is in my mind use enough ; pro- 
 vided they do no harm by being untrue or obtrusive, of w'^'" 
 last I am a little afraid. At any rate I mean to taJie plenty 
 of time, to make out the ecclesiastical year, if I can, before 
 I publish ; and I feel as if this would take up my life. It 
 would be a great delight to do something, w"^"" might be 
 of use to the sort of persons you mention : but that must 
 be left for some one who can do it — and probably whenever 
 it is done, it will be done by somebody who never thought 
 of it himself, but merely wrote to relieve his own mind. In- 
 deed, that was the original purpose of what you have seen, 
 and so far it has proved very usefiil ; but there is no making 
 a silk purse out of a sow's ear — a foolish figure, but fare- 
 well that. 
 
 " I am here on a week's visit to Tucker, before I enter 
 on my new cure at Hursley." 
 
122 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 There is a passage in a letter to Mr. Pruen, which,, 
 though written after the publication of the book, sug- 
 gests an additional reason for the previous delay, and 
 I feel sure this had operated strongly in Keble's mind ; 
 a reason which I also believe caused in him all through 
 life a feeling of sadness and dissatisfaction in regard 
 to the book, increased rather than diminished by its- 
 popularity. I will insert the passage here, as it is 
 necessary to complete the account of the motives 
 which made him averse to publication, but some re- 
 marks which it suggests will find a more proper 
 place hereafter. 
 
 " I had long ago considered about printing ' the Dedica- 
 tion' you speak of: but somehow or other (though Davi- 
 son recommended it) I could not bring myself to it ; it 
 seemed too much like printing one's own private confes- 
 sions : and so to be sure is half the book ; and many times, 
 when I consider what my friends would think of me if I 
 •were to print the other nine-tenths of my thoughts, I really 
 feel quite ashamed of having printed the book at all : for 
 though I am not blind enough to see all the good in it diat 
 you do, I am well aware there is quite good enough to> 
 make it on the whole a considerable fib on my part. Bat 
 this will not do to talk and laugh about." 
 
 Keble's attention was, however, now much engaged 
 upon a step which has always seemed to me most 
 important in respect to himself, namely, the quitting^ 
 the retirement of Fairford and his little Gloucester- 
 shire Cures, and coming more into the sunshine as 
 
Hiirsley Curacy. 123-, 
 
 the Curate of Hursley, with the sole charge of that 
 parish. 
 
 Hursley is a Vicarage united to the Rectory of 
 Otterbourne, and the Incumbent at the time I am 
 speaking of was Archdeacon Heathcote, uncle to 
 Keble's old pupil, Sir William Heathcote ; he resided 
 at Winchester, there being at that time no residence 
 either in the Rectory or the Vicarage ; he took charge 
 himself of the former, and had a Curate for the lat- 
 ter ; this curacy became vacant, and on Sir William's 
 recommendation it was offered to Keble, and ac- 
 cepted by him in the spring of 1825, to be entered 
 on at Michaelmas. In .the mean time Sir William- 
 had found an unfinished house, which stood between 
 the Church and his own Park gates, which he set 
 himself to work to finish, and Keble, with the full 
 consent of his father and sisters, made his arrange- 
 ments for the change. The house would not be 
 finished, probably, when Michaelmas came, but 
 Keble was to take up his abode temporarily with 
 Sir William at his mansion. 
 
 This was among the first acts of Sir William on 
 succeeding to the property, and it is one on which 
 I may venture to say he has reason especially to- 
 congratulate himself, both in itself, and in the train 
 of consequences which flowed from it. Some of 
 these probably were contemplated by no one ; and 
 perhaps at the moment little more was in his mind 
 than the giving pleasure to Keble, while he pro- 
 cured for the parish in which he resided so good" 
 
124 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 and able a minister, and for himself the close neigh- 
 bourhood of so dear a friend, and so wise an ad- 
 viser. Yet I think it must have been obvious to 
 him that the time had arrived when it was fitting 
 that Keble, who had renounced the academical 
 course, and was so singularly averse to any ambi- 
 tious speculations, should be called on to labour in 
 a larger field, and exercise his personal influence 
 more widely than it was open for him to do at 
 Fairford. Perhaps no place, and no circumstances, 
 could be more favourable than Hursley, and those 
 which attended the change when it was made. 
 Keble, indeed, would have said, and in strictness 
 truly said, that ho sphere was so narrow, but that 
 a good man's energies might be fully and worthily 
 exercised in the ministry there ; and he would have 
 repelled the notion that he had gifts which ought 
 to be developed and displayed in the charge of 
 a more varied, and more educated population than 
 that of his Gloucestershire villages. Still there are 
 to be desired in this as in other things, where it can 
 be had, a fitness and proportion between the clergy- 
 man and his cure. Qualifications may be in danger 
 of slumbering useless in one place, which find full 
 scope and motive for development and exercise in 
 another. 
 
 But independently of this higher consideration, 
 there were pleasure and usefulness in what was to 
 be around him at Hursley, of a kind which did not 
 exist at Fairford ; the vicinity of Winchester Cathe- 
 
Hursley Curacy. 125 
 
 dral, the College, and School : Robert Barter was 
 not then indeed the Warden of the one, nor Dr. Mo- 
 berly Head Master of the other, with both of whom 
 he was afterwards to be on the most friendly terms. 
 The society of Hursley itself, however, and its neigh- 
 bourhood, and especially that which would, of course, 
 gather from time to time at Hursley Park ; the re- 
 newal of his familiar intercourse with his favourite 
 old pupil ; the character of the country around him, 
 dry and healthy, a pleasant interchange of breezy 
 down and picturesque woodland, hill and valley, 
 the New Forest, Southampton, and the sea at a con- 
 venient distance ; these are some of the circumstances 
 to which I allude. 
 
 Keble was not insensible to these attractions, still 
 it was a call on him which might seem to break in 
 upon the discharge of what he had always con- 
 sidered among the first, if not the very first, of his 
 duties, and he naturally hesitated to accept the offer. 
 
 I cannot do better than insert here the two letters, 
 addressed to Sir William Heathcote, in the first of 
 which he expresses his doubts, and in the second 
 his acceptance of the ofier ; the kindness of spirit in 
 which that had been conceived and made may be in- 
 ferred from the answers : — 
 
 " SOUTHROP, 
 
 March 14, 1825. 
 " My dear and kind Friend, 
 " I am afraid you will think me very childish after so 
 
126 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 many days' consideration of your too kind offer, to be still 
 asking for more time, and yet so it is. I feel very strongly 
 the value and the blessing of such a place as you ofier me 
 in your esteem and confidence; although I cannot help 
 ■shrinking from the increased responsibility which such a 
 change in my station would impose upon me; and then 
 ■to leave my father and sisters, even for the distance of 
 •one long day's journey, is a step not to be resolved upon 
 without a good deal of rather intense consideration, under 
 our circumstances ; the circumstances, I jnean, of my father's 
 age, and my eldest sister's health. If it were not for this, I 
 ■believe I should without further delay have closed with 
 your proposal, the friendliness and piety of which I do in- 
 deed most deeply feel; and whatever be the issue, shall 
 : always be most thankful to have received such a letter. 
 Yet I feel so many doubts as to my own fitness for a charge 
 in many respects different from my present one, that I am 
 satisfied it is best for me to have such a family difficulty as 
 this to hinder me from deciding too suddenly. Could you, 
 then, and could the Archdeacon, (to whom please to ofier 
 my very sincere acknowledgments,) allow me without in- 
 convenience a week or ten days more, from the time you 
 . receive this ? In the course of that time, I think I shall be 
 able to satisfy my mind more thoroughly than I can just 
 now, as to what I ought to do. Do not think me cold and 
 ungrateful, for indeed I am not so, tliough much weaker 
 and less resolute in my duty than I fear you imagine me. 
 And if you had rather have my answer sooner, pray do not 
 scruple to tell me so. My best regards, if you please, to 
 ■your Mother and Aunt, and Mr. Lovell, and believe me, 
 " Your very gratefiil and afi"'" Friend, 
 " John Keble, Jun'." 
 
Hursley Curacy. 127 
 
 " Fairford, 
 « My dear Friend, " ^'^^'^ ^9, 1825. 
 
 " Having considered everything well over ' one, two, tree 
 time,' and having examined, and cross-examined, indivi- 
 xiually and collectively, the several members of this my 
 Privy Council, I need not keep you, or the rest of my 
 kind friends at Hursley and Winchester any longer in sus- 
 pense. I thankfully accept your kind offer, and only hope 
 tiiat I may not prove unworthy of it. What I propose is, 
 if yoil can conveniently receive me, to give up Southrop to 
 ■my brother about the latter end of August, or beginning of 
 September, and then undertake Hursley immediately. By 
 that time the house might, I should think, be floored, plas- 
 tered, white-washed, painted, and I should think papered; 
 so that the main operations left would be to lay out the 
 garden, and lay in the furniture, both of which I could 
 superintend at my leisure. And there is this advantage in 
 coming while things are still rather unfinished ; that if upon 
 trial I should find myself more homesick than I expect to 
 lie, it would he less of an undertaking to transport myself 
 home again ; or suppose my father or eldest sister, when it 
 comes to the point, should -find it more essential to their 
 comfort to have me with them, than it now seems, as there 
 is no answering for the wishes of invalids, or in many other 
 supposable cases, it may turn out a great convenience to be 
 z. httle unsettled at first. But I will not anticipate anything 
 to disturb so comfortable an arrangement as we all think it. 
 My cliief care now must be to endeavour, by God's bless- 
 ing, that you may never have occasion to repent of your 
 confidence in me. My father and sisters give me good 
 hopes of paying me long and firequent visits, but I must 
 •endeavour not to build much on that I know my best 
 
128 Memoir of the Rev. John Kehle. 
 
 and wisest way will be to make my parish, wherever I am 
 called, as entirely my home as possible, and to take all 
 one sees of friends and relations as something Toahv koI eVi. 
 I have been a little spoiled in this respect by the privilege 
 of staying with my first and best friends so long; but I 
 trust I am not too old to mend. At all events, I should 
 like to make the trial." .... 
 
 Upon this footing the arrangement was made; 
 I may seem to have been very diffuse on a matter 
 commonly so ordinary as the acceptance of a Curacy ; 
 but it is obvious from the letters I have just inserted, 
 that Sir William's offer was not an ordinary one, nor 
 couched in ordinary language; and I have already 
 stated my reasons for thinking that the change 
 which this move made in Keble's habits of life, in 
 the society in which he moved, and in the exercise 
 of his professional duties, was most important ; it 
 was very happily timed too, and the acceptance met 
 with the hearty concurrence of the Privy Council to 
 which the letters refer. His father, indeed, was sure 
 to consider the question with good sense, and entire 
 freedom from selfish bias, and the conclusion was 
 certain. 
 
 This resolution put an end, I believe, to Keble's 
 any longer acting as Tutor to any one ; and it pre- 
 vented his accepting one pupil, then a lad between 
 Harrow and Oxford, whom at the request of his 
 father I had earnestly pressed on him to take charge 
 of — Arthur Acland. I can hardly conceive one who 
 
Hursley Curacy. 129 
 
 would have been more congenial to him. But it 
 could not then be arranged ; however, this did not 
 prevent the formation of a friendship between them 
 in after life, and it was pleasant to me to know on 
 good information, that under the great affliction of 
 his life, which indeed did not very long precede his 
 own death, Arthur Troyte, as he had become, sought 
 the vicarage at Hursley, and found substantial con- 
 solation in the sympathy which Keble manifested, 
 and the advice he gave. 
 
 K 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 IIURSLEY CURACY. — DEATH OF MARY ANN KEBLE. — 
 RETURN TO FAIRFORD. — 1 825 — 1 826. 
 
 IN the lives of most men there is a period which 
 one would characterize, if not as the most happy, 
 yet the brightest, and most sunshiny; when their 
 hopes are most cheerful, their cares lightest, their 
 sense of enjoyment most lively. The year which 
 Keble passed as Curate of Hursley I should cha- 
 racterize as that period in his life ; it was scarcely 
 a year, before he was re-called to Fairford by an 
 event which, with all his habitual resignation, was 
 yet one of the most afflicting trials he had ever 
 been submitted to. But of this by-and-by. 
 
 It had been arranged, as I have intimated, that 
 Thomas Keble should take to the Curacies, and to 
 the Parsonage at Southrop, on his leaving it. This 
 was the more agreeable, as he had not long before, 
 to the entire satisfaction of the family, and not least 
 to that of Keble, married a lady, whose sister after- 
 vwards became Keble's own wife. Before Keble settled 
 at Hursley, he visited two or three of his old friends, 
 and took Ellison's duty at Huntspill for a week or 
 two, and on the first Sunday of October, 1825, com- 
 smenced the discharge of his duties as Curate. 
 
Hursley Curacy. i^i 
 
 Writing to me not long before he started from 
 home, he says : — 
 
 " You would laugh if you could look into me, and read 
 all the pretty schemes of reform which course one another 
 over my still childish brain. I am to be so regular, so 
 industrious, so punctual, stich an early riser, &c., &c., &c., 
 and all to be learned, or rather picked up on Salisbury 
 Plain, in the space of sixty-five miles from this home to my 
 -new one." 
 
 On the day of what he called "reading himself 
 
 ■in to his new diocese," he wrote to me in high spirits ; 
 he had found his house unfinished, and was residing 
 with Sir William at Hursley Park ; this, too, might be 
 called the bright period of Sir William's life ; he had 
 
 •not long entered on his career; his marriage was 
 in prospect before him, and his election as Knight 
 
 •of the Shire. Keble writes in the fulness of his 
 heart, how " very very friendly" he was to him, and 
 how " much more comfortable and more at home he 
 was than he ever thought he should be so soon, un- 
 Fairfordized as he was." He likes his village, his 
 home, his church tower, (I note his expressive silence 
 as to his'bhurch,) and he sums up a string of likings, 
 with the remark, that "here is a good store to set 
 
 'against the uncomfortable circumstances which are 
 sure to come by-and-by." His accounts from home, 
 too, were bright : — 
 
 " Elizabeth's headaches are mending, and my Father is 
 as brisk as a bee j he has not flagged a moment about my 
 
132 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 departure, and when he keeps up himself, he keeps us all 
 up with him." 
 
 He had come into the parish with the best of re- 
 commendations, and was most kindly received; he 
 soon made his own way good, both socially and as 
 the pastor of the flock ; hints disclosing his industry 
 in this last respect appear from time to time in his 
 correspondence. Beside these, there was the Parson- 
 age to be finished, and the garden, an especial ob- 
 ject of interest, and the pleasure-ground, to be laid 
 out and planted ; the first of these lies between 
 the house and churchyard on the side of the house 
 which faces the tower and west end of the Church, 
 the latter slopes away very prettily from the back 
 front, and is flanked on the west by the Park pales, 
 and some fine old elms. The house itself is rather 
 picturesque than handsome, not commonplace, not 
 too large, yet sufficiently commodious. 
 
 Keble's old friends were not slow to visit him in 
 his new abode ; and this was one of his greatest 
 pleasures ; among them very early was Arnold. He 
 says : — 
 
 " I have tried the cozie powers of the Hursley air not 
 only with Mary Anne, who has paid me a visit of five 
 weeks ending the 9th Jan"., but also with Tom Arnold, 
 who ran down here like a good neighbour, and surveyed 
 the premises and the neighbourhood presently after Christ- 
 mas. How very unaltered he is, and how very comfortable 
 
Hursley Curacy. 133 
 
 and contented ; he is one of the persons whom it does one 
 good to think of when I am in a grumbling vein." 
 
 Arnold was at this time residing with pupils at 
 Laleham, with the spirits and hopefulness of boy- 
 hood, or youth, and' the activity and brightness of 
 early manhood; and, as Keble says, quite unaltered 
 in manner from what we had known him at Oxford. 
 He had brought with him the opening of an Essay 
 on Schools and Universities, intended for a Review. 
 Keble says "the covering of the jar is so very 
 sweet and luscious, that I suspect there must be 
 something terribly bitter below ; but he only cackles 
 and crows at anything anybody can say to him." 
 Few survive who can remember how to the life this 
 paints him in his merry defiant moods in his younger 
 days. I may add that he had sent me in a letter 
 an analysis of what he intended to say ; it is so full, 
 and able, that I cannot but wish it had been selected 
 for publication in his Life. 
 
 Tucker, John Awdry, and Charles Plumer, the 
 two latter at that time brother Fellows with him 
 of Oriel, also came to him ; it was scarcely a de- 
 viation for me when on my Circuit, in passing from 
 Winchester to Salisbury,, to go by Hursley, and I 
 visited him in this way both in the spring and 
 summer. Upon the latter occasion I was taking 
 my two elder boys into Devonshire, and they were 
 received by Ijim during the Winchester Assizes. At 
 
1 34 Memoir of the Rev. John Kehle. 
 
 the end of these I went there and took them oir 
 with me. I found him with his father and two 
 sisters in high spirits, and all four had concurred in 
 making the httle ones happy; they on their part 
 had not been slow in becoming familiar with Keble, 
 and accepting. him as their playmate; and so their 
 fondness for him commenced, which, combined with 
 the profoundest respect as years advanced, conti- 
 nued unabated to his death. Love for children, a 
 full understanding of their natures, and the power 
 of entering into all their ways and wishes, and in- 
 terpreting their thoughts, were properties he pos- 
 sessed even then in a very high degree. 
 
 I have said I found his father and sisters with 
 him ; this was a realization of the expectations held 
 out to him before he left Fairford. Mary Anne, as 
 has been stated, had fulfilled a promise she had 
 made for herself, on which he counted much, and 
 had stayed for five weeks with him in the pre- 
 ceding December and January. When I had pro- 
 posed sending my young ones to him, . I had sup- 
 posed him alone, and should hardly have thought 
 of sending hrm such intruders, if I had known who' 
 were with him ; but Mr. Keble and the sisters both 
 concurred in wishing them to come. In announc- 
 ing this to me, he says : — 
 
 " You may imagine the pleasure it is to have my Father 
 and Sisters here ; my Father so remarkably well, and so- 
 beautifully cheerful ; he enjoys the place much more than 
 
Hursley Curacy. i^r 
 
 1 had expected, and will not allow that he sleeps at all the 
 worse for being out of his own bed. Elizabeth was rather 
 knocked up with the journey, not at first, but after a day- 
 or two ; however, now she is looking up again, and enjoys 
 our woodland drives mightily. In short, they all seem as 
 natural almost as at Fairford j and the place being left in 
 dishabille longer than it ought, is no great disadvantage, for 
 it will have all the benefit of their suggestions; and I don't 
 ■ despair of its being quite a show parsonage by the time 
 Johnny's eldest grandson goes his first Circuit. You will 
 come the end of next week, and give us the benefit of your 
 advice, there's a good fellow." 
 
 He little thought in how short a time compara- 
 tively, and in how different a sense, he would make 
 the vicarage a show parsonage. 
 
 He and I were to dine with Sir William, and after 
 we had set the home party down to their earlier 
 dinner, we took a long walk in the Park, and, I re- 
 member, explored the remains of the old Merdoi^ 
 Castle, which stands in it. Such pleasures were now 
 of rare occurrence to me, and the walk lives in my 
 memory. 
 
 I dwell on this passage in Keble's life with minute- 
 ness, and with the more interest, at least to mj^elf,. 
 from the sad close of it which so soon followed. 
 The family visit terminated, Mr. Keble and the two- 
 sisters returned to Fairford. In a letter which I 
 have seen, written some years before to Mrs. Pruen,. 
 in which he spoke of intending to introduce a young 
 lady to her, he says, "not my wife Elizabeth, but 
 
136 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 my sweetheart Mary Anne." These words very hap- 
 pily and truly describe the shadow of difference 
 in his feeling towards the two sisters ; both have 
 long passed away, and I may speak of them without 
 reserve ; while they were so identified with Keble, 
 that those who read about him ought to know some- 
 thing of them. Elizabeth, the elder by several years, 
 was almost a constant invalide ; her complaint had 
 rendered an operation necessary, which made her 
 lame, and she was seldom free from suffering. Her 
 cheerful patience, her unselfishness, her strong good 
 sense, her sweetness, and her piety,^mixed up a large 
 portion of reverence for her with the love which he 
 bore towards her. Nor was this without reason ; in 
 VD.y note made at the time of this visit, and which 
 I- print because it was made at the time, and only 
 for my own eyes, I see I say of her, " Miss Keble 
 was with him, looking very delicate ; she had evi- 
 dently suffered much from the hot weather, and 
 looked less pretty than she used, but there is an 
 almost angelic sweetness about her manner, and ex- 
 pression of countenance." Mary Anne was younger ; 
 though not strong, yet having better health, and 
 brighter spirits, smarter in speech, and more light- 
 hearted, entering into all his drolleries, and answer- 
 ing them, walking with him, riding with him ; he 
 constantly sporting with her, seldom addressing her 
 but by some fond diminutive nick-name; and in his 
 letters to her constantly sliding into odd rhymes, or 
 
Death of Mary A nne Keble. 137 
 
 droll puns ; yet with all this he had the fullest sense 
 of the sterling qualities of head and heart, which she 
 possessed. It would have been, I suppose, impos- 
 sible to say which he loved most tenderly, " the wife, 
 or the sweetheart." 
 
 It was the unexpected death of this dear sister 
 which he communicated to me in the following 
 letter : — 
 
 " Fairford, 
 Seft. 25, 1826. 
 " My very dear Friend, 
 
 " I cannot help hoping you may in some way or other 
 be a little prepared for what I have to communicate — 
 a most trying visitation of God's Providence, particularly 
 to my father and Elizabeth, — ^yet accompanied, as always, 
 with many, very many circumstances of great comfort and 
 relief I was summoned from Hursley the morning Henry 
 Coleridge left me, by an account of dearest Mary Anne's 
 being alarmingly ill ; when I came here, I found she had 
 been in a state of delirium ever since Sunday night; and 
 this continued, with very slight abatement, till last Wed- 
 nesday morning about two o'clock, when she was quiet for 
 about two hours, and then, seemingly without pain, fell into 
 her last sleep, fairly worn down by the violence of the 
 attack. Dear soul, I really do not tliink it at all presump- 
 tuous to rejoice in the contemplation of her present state. 
 Sudden as her death was to herself, she was, I firmly be- 
 lieve, entirely prepared for it. Her spirits had been rather 
 affected of late, and she sometimes appeared to anticipate 
 something; but the only effect this had on her was to 
 make her more cheerful and resigned in everything, and 
 kinder to everybody. The more coolly I think of her, now 
 
138 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 the first shock is over, the more does this comfort grow 
 upon me ; and if it were not for my father and Elizabeth^ 
 I think I should feel an unmixed though melancholy plea- 
 sure in thinking of her. To them, as you may well con- 
 ceive, the separation is painfully trying : humanly speakings 
 irreparable ; but the Almighty has mercies in store whicln 
 we know not of, and they are both so calm and patient, — 
 my Father even cheerful, — that I cannot, upon considera- 
 tion, be uncomfortable about them either. My brother 
 and Bessie are with us, and are the greatest support to 
 one another, and to us ; and the baby is like a little angel 
 sent among us to shine in an overclouded place. Then we 
 h^ve our Bibles and Prayer-books at hand, and are sure of 
 the affectionate S3mipathy of many dear friends, you my 
 dear Coleridge particularly ; never shall we forget the verjr 
 brotherly letter you sent us the last time we were in dis- 
 tress, when we had just parted from my mother. I was 
 very glad of your letter by Henry, and of the cheering ac- 
 count he brought of your family ; the blessing of God be- 
 upon them all. Remember us in your prayers, — me par- 
 ticularly, that I may make a better use of tliis tlian I have- 
 done of other visitations. And when you write to Ottery,. 
 will you let Frank and Henry know how things are, withi 
 my kindest regards. I promised to write, but perhaps he 
 will excuse that at present. 
 
 " Your very affectionate Friend, 
 " John Keble, Jun'." 
 
 He wrote about the same time on the same oc- 
 casion to Froude, arid even had the letter been 
 confined to this, it is so exquisite in thought and 
 expression, that I could not have withheld it from. 
 
Death of Mary Anne Keble. 139- 
 
 my readers; but they will see that it has a cha- 
 racter of its own ; tendei'ly, and delicately, and very 
 wisely, the former tutor suggests to the pupil, now 
 become the young friend, how to deal with infir- 
 mities in temper, or spirits, to which he thought 
 him constitutionally liable. I therefore give the 
 whole letter, and for the same reason I subjoin an 
 extract from another written later in the same, 
 year : — 
 
 " I am now in the midst of preparations to quit Hursley, 
 and return to live at Fairford as early as I can next week ;. 
 I therefore am afraid I shall not be able to write much- to 
 the purpose, but something I must write in answer to yours, 
 which was forwarded from home with a very comfortable 
 account of matters there, and reached me this morning. 
 I knew you would be very sorry when you heard of what 
 has come upon us, and I feel that I can write freely to you 
 about it ; but I cannot half describe to you the depth andi 
 intensity, at least as it seemed to me, of my thoughts andi 
 feelings during Mary Anne's illness and for some time since. 
 Certainly no loss could be so great, humanly speaking, to- 
 Ehsabeth and my Father ; but they are both such sort of 
 people, that I have long been used to .consider everytliing 
 that happens to them as a certain good: and there was 
 nothing bitter in my grief as far as they were concerned ; 
 much less in thinking of Mary Anne herself; but the real 
 bitterness was whai I thought of many things in which 
 I have been far less kind to her than I ought to have been. 
 Somehow or other I have for years been accustomed to- 
 talk to her far more freely than to anybody else in the 
 world, though of course there were two or three whom 
 
140 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 I loved quite as well. But it has so happened that when- 
 ever I was moody or fretful, she has had to bear with me 
 more than any one, and if I chose I could sit down and 
 torment myself by the hour with the thought of it. This 
 is the only feeling of real bitterness that I have on the 
 subject, but I know it is wrong to indulge it, and I trust 
 soon to get over it entirely ; indeed, I seem to have done 
 so already, only I feel one cannot in any way depend upon 
 one's self. I am certain no person who believes in the^ 
 Atonement ought to indulge in bitter remorse, and there- 
 fore, by God's blessing, I don't mean to be uncomfortable 
 if I can help it, even in the thought of my past faults. 
 I have been so too much already, and it only seems to 
 make one lazy and weaken one's own hands and one's 
 friends'. If you please, therefore, don't let us encourage 
 one another in melancholy any more; but let us always 
 resolutely look to the bright side of things, and among 
 other helps to be quiet, let us always talk as freely to one 
 another as we do now; for nothing relieves one so much 
 as making a clean breast. I never was so much impressed 
 with the value and excellency of cheerfulness as a Christian 
 virtue as I have been since M. A.'s death. The remem- 
 brance of her peculiar cheerfulness (for she had more of 
 it than any of us, except, perhaps, my Father) goes so far 
 towards keeping us all up, especially Elisabeth. We keep 
 thinking how vexed she would be to see us annoying our- 
 selves about her; and how she always wanted everybody 
 to live in sunshine ; and it quite makes us ashamed and 
 afraid to feel desolate. You may easily imagine what 
 a support this is to Elisabeth, whose thoughts, both from 
 her temper and circumstances, are more entirely fixed on 
 M. A. than either of ours can be. Of course, she must feel 
 like a widow, but I trust not as a desolate one : certainly 
 
Death of Mary Anne Kehle. 141 
 
 she seems alive to every comfort, and her prevalent feeling 
 is one of deep thankfulness for the assurance of M. A.'s 
 happiness. As to my Father, he really seems to have re- 
 covered his ordinary cheerfulness: now and then he is 
 overcome, but tears relieve him, and he goes on comfortably 
 again. I am going to be his curate at Coin, where I hope 
 we shall yet have many a comfortable discourse, and not 
 find it necessary to ramble so far as the Wye in search of 
 ' great rocks' to shelter us. I don't mean that I am to 
 live at Coin, but at Fairford. Betty goes to Coin. I like 
 your plans of reading, but don't be disheartened if you seem 
 to do little; only I would not indulge reveries. As you 
 speak of good books, do look at the Life of Mr. Bonnell 
 if it comes in your way. It is in the list of the Christian 
 Knowledge Society, and Hawkins I know can lend it you._ 
 See p. 153. There is a passage which I have found useful, 
 and I suspect you may too. You cannot think how often 
 you come into my mind, especially now I am endeavouring 
 to train myself to a more thorough content and cheerfulness 
 than I have ever yet practised. For I fancy that you and 
 I require in some respects the same sort of training. At 
 any rate I know too well what passes in my own mind, to 
 think anything contemptible in you. Now I think this is 
 enough about ourselves, for I hold it to be a selfish and 
 dangerous sort of thing for people to be always turning 
 their eyes inward. But don't let this hinder you from 
 writing always as freely of what is uppermost as you do 
 now ; only please not to let your own faults, nor anything 
 uncomfortable, be often uppermost. As I said before, I 
 am sure it is not natural it should be, so in those for whom 
 Christ died. 
 
 " This lesson I have learned of dear Mary Anne, and 
 I hope not to forget it, but to have it perfect by the time 
 
142 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 I see her again, and if I can get you to learn it too, so 
 much the better for us all. She often used to speak of 
 you, and I dare say to pray for you, for she fancied you 
 not quite comfortable, and she had a great feeling for that 
 :Sort of discomfort. 
 
 " God bless you now, my dear friend. Let me hear from 
 you as often as it seems to do you any good — and don't 
 mind what you write. Mention how your sister is — I have 
 heard nothing of her for a long time. Ever and ever yours, 
 J. K., Jun'." 
 
 " 2^ De/T., 1826. 
 
 "So much for myself, and now you. I am bound to 
 thank you over and over again for your last letter, it was 
 and is a real comfort to me, for I am tolerably sure you 
 -are in the right way, only don't dwell . too much upon 
 whatever may have been wrong; to some minds it may 
 be necessary, but not to those who are in danger of be- 
 coming indolent by too much thinking about themselves. 
 And when you find yourself, as I daresay you sometimes 
 do, overpowered as it were by melancholy, the best way 
 is to go out, and do something kind to somebody or other. 
 Objects, either rich or poor, will generally present them- 
 selves in the hour of need to those who look for them in 
 earnest, although Oxford is not perhaps the most con- 
 venient place to find them in. However, there they surely 
 are, if you will take the trouble of looking for tliem ; and 
 perhaps that very trouble is in some sort an advantage in 
 driving away a moody fit, although I always reckon it 
 a great privilege of a country Parson, that his resources 
 •in this way lie close to his own door. Writing, too, I have 
 known in many cases a very great relief; but I almost 
 •doubt the expediency of preserving journals, at least of 
 
Death of Mary Anne Keble. 143 
 
 looking much back upon them: if one could summon, 
 ►resolution to do so, I fancy the best way would be to 
 write on till one was a little unburthened, and then put 
 -one's confessions in the fire. But in all these things, of 
 -course, no one can judge for his neighbour. And what- 
 ever you do, don't throw your confessions to me in the 
 ■fire, for it does my heart good to receive them ; it makes 
 me hope that I am sometimes useful, which is a sensation 
 J don't very often experience." 
 
 It was in the spring of 1827, (March 5 is the date 
 it bore,) that Keble wrote the poem entitled " Burial 
 of the Dead," which is printed. No. 50, in the Lyra 
 -Apostolica. I hardly know whether I should not 
 assign it the first place in all the poetry he has left 
 behind him, for its beautiful rhythm, and most appro- 
 priate measure, the finish of its language, but above 
 -all these, for its richness, simplicity, and pathos. 
 Its charm is increased by knowing that it was Mary 
 Anne's funeral which it dwells on ; this gives a 
 reality and tenderness to such expressions as " cheer- 
 ing whispers like thine own." Here, too, we find 
 what again and again, indeed almost uniformly, is 
 to be found, when he wrote in verse or prose on 
 such subjects, the expression of his belief in the 
 communion of the departed spirits of the blest with, 
 the sorrowing survivors : — 
 
 " The deep knell dying down, the mourners pause. 
 Waiting their Saviour's welcome at the gate : 
 Sure with the words of heaven 
 Thy spirit met us there, 
 
144 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 " And sought with us along th' accustom'd way 
 The hallow'd porch, and entering in beheld 
 The pageant of sad joy 
 So dear to Faith and Hope." 
 
 I can hardly suggest why he wrote " brother" for 
 "sister" in the stanza towards the close, perhaps it 
 might be consideration for those who would first 
 see the poem, whom he would not touch too closely, 
 or it might be from his habitual shrinking from 
 putting himself, or his own special sorrow before 
 the public eye, that he would generalize this most 
 touching incident in the poem. I mention the cir- 
 cumstance, however, as it might raise a doubt as 
 to the occasion of the poem, for which there is no 
 foundation. 
 
 The poem immediately preceding in the same 
 volume is by Keble also, both bear the title of Be- 
 reavement ; judging only from internal evidence, I 
 should say this was also occasioned by the same 
 affliction ; it is most touching, but the strain of 
 thought which makes it so interesting to those who 
 know, or are studying Keble's nature, removes it 
 from the province of criticism. 
 
 This event, as might be expected, recalled Keble 
 from Hursley ; he could no longer separate himself 
 from his father and only sumving sister, and though 
 he would have preferred, I think, their joining him 
 at Hursley, yet he found this impossible. 
 
 " Many persons (he wrote to me) in my Father's place 
 
Return to Fairford. 145 
 
 would rather perhaps have moved to me, but with his turn 
 of mind it is quite out of the question. I really think if 
 he had brought himself to it, it would most likely shorten 
 his life." 
 
 Circumstances prevented his brother, now a family- 
 man, from coming to reside at Fairford ; indeed, could 
 that have been arranged, it would scarcely, I think, 
 have satisfied Keble's loving heart. So he made 3 
 short yisit to superintend the removal of his books 
 and other matters to Fairford, and as Hursley, for- 
 tunately, could be provided for without much incon- 
 venience, before the end of October he was again 
 settled under his father's roof, and thus sadly and 
 unexpectedly ended this pleasant episode in his life, 
 his charge of Hursley as Curate. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 RETURN TO FAIRFORD. — PUBLICATION OF THE 
 "CHRISTIAN YEAR." — 1 826, 1 827. 
 
 KEBLE returned to a home sadly changed by 
 the death of his sister. I do not think that in 
 the course of his life he sustained any loss which he 
 felt more acutely ; beyond the privation to himself 
 in the death of a sister so loved, a companion at once 
 so bright and lively, so sensible and good, he could 
 not but be affected by the blow to his father, and 
 even more his invalide and suffering sister, now left 
 alone. Dyson, who visited at Fairford more often 
 than I did, and knew Mary Anne more familiarly, 
 wrote to me at the time, and I transcribe a part of 
 his letter, as in a few words he does her so much 
 more justice than I have been able to do in many : — 
 
 " Oh, Coleridge, what a sad blow to her family, the loss 
 -of Mary Anne Keble ; poor I must not call her after the 
 common usage, since she has so infinitely the advantage of 
 all left behind. John Keble sent me word of her loss soon 
 after it happened, and gave, as far as could be given so 
 early after the blow, a comfortable account of his father 
 and sister ; and to be sure, if the truest piety, and most 
 practical submission can give any comfort under such a 
 loss, they will have it, and I dare to say, will perhaps at 
 first feel it less, than their immediate friends will for them. 
 
Rettmi to Fairford. 147 
 
 But when I think what a loveable being she was in herself, 
 ■what an affectionate, gentle, guileless, and truly simple 
 heart she had, and how little the cares and affection of 
 the best and tenderest men can supply the unwearying, 
 ■assiduous, self-denying, attachment of a daughter and sister, 
 I must be apprehensive of the effect upon her father and 
 Elizabeth from such a loss, a loss to be perceived not in 
 ■one stunning blow, and all is over, but to be felt daily 
 and hourly ; I hope, however, and I pray for the best for 
 4hem." 
 
 This was written early in October, 1826. The 
 letters which both Dyson and I received in the fol- 
 lowing months shew that any apprehension of per- 
 manent depression of spirits would have been ground- 
 less ; all three of the survivors were strong in their 
 common faith, and the picture which Keble draws 
 of his aged father and sister, and unconsciously of 
 himself, under this visitation is most cheering and 
 instructive. 
 
 He says to Dyson early in November : — 
 
 "Amongst all the friendly letters we received, your's 
 seemed one of the most valuable, because you both of 
 you understood dearest Mary Anne so well, and loved her 
 so truly. Whenever we meet or hear from you, it wll 
 seem something of an approach to her, and do not fear 
 but by the blessing of God our meetings may be cheerful 
 and happy enough. I am sure you would think so, if you 
 ■could see how very comfortable both my father and Eliza- 
 beth are, and how unaffectedly they enter into the spirit of 
 everything that is going on around them. Indeed, I don't 
 
148 Memoir of the Rev. John Kehle. 
 
 think you would see any difference in my father, and I am 
 not sure that you would in Elizabeth." 
 
 It was an additional trial to the former during- 
 this winter, that his increasing weakness prevented 
 him from discharging his duties at Coin personally, 
 to which Keble alludes in writing to me on the 22nd 
 of January, 1827: — 
 
 " You would like to see my father, how very quietly he 
 takes his suspension from clerical duties, which I used 
 always to fear would be too sharp a trial for him whenever 
 it took place. But it really does not seem to vex him at 
 all. He stays at home, and is quite contented and cheer- 
 ful, in the office, as he says, of Chaplain to Elizabeth. 
 And Elizabeth's great delight is to do all the things that 
 Mary Anne used to do, and fancy her only gone away for 
 a short visit to a place where she is very happy, and soon 
 to shew herself again ; if one may call it fancy, which one 
 verily believes to be the real truth." 
 
 He speaks of himself as — 
 
 " Having swung comfortably back to his old moorings, 
 and certainly," says he, " it is more comfortable to have some 
 one to say ' good bye' to every night, and not to have to eat 
 and drink, and talk by oneself, only it remains to.be proved 
 whether one who has been usually very idle, when he had 
 a good deal to do, will suddenly turn industrious, when his 
 sphere of action is so much diminished. Certainly the 
 days do not seem long, or irksome, but I am afraid that 
 is a very equivocal sign of industry." 
 
 But he was not idle ; he was now supplying his 
 
Return to Fairford. 149 
 
 father's place at Coin entirely, and as Coin was 
 three miles off, it occupied more of his time than 
 if he had been strictly resident. Moreover, that tax 
 was now beginning to be imposed upon him, which 
 in after life became vjery burthensome, the answering 
 the letters of those who consulted him in their re- 
 ligious doubts and difficulties. This, it is well known, 
 is the lot of many distinguished persons; but it is 
 remarkable that it should have commenced with 
 him at a time when he would have seemed to be 
 so little known. 
 
 In the same letter, from which my last extract 
 was made, he tells me that he had gone "through 
 every word of an immense bundle of papers," the 
 remains of a deceased convert from Quakerism, with 
 a view to advising whether they should be published 
 or not. He asks for information on the question 
 whether the present Quakers maintained the opinions 
 of George Fox and Co. ; on which the answer in that 
 •case seemed to him to turn. Again, and about the 
 same time, Cornish had consulted him on the con- 
 scientious difficulties of a young lady ; and his an- 
 -swer is so sensible, that I cannot forbear transcribing 
 it; many persons, I believe, are occasionally in the 
 condition of the young lady; who may perhaps 
 profit by the advice : — 
 
 " I am clearly of opinion the young lady should discon- 
 tinue these observances which seem to fret and distract her 
 so much. It seems like Fasting, which no one is tied to, 
 
ISO Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 even by the laws of the Church, when it is bo7id fide against 
 their health : much less by any rule they can set them- 
 selves. Clearly this is a case of melancholy from bodily 
 constitution, and the person should be recommended to- 
 avoid all vows and singularities of every kind, as mere 
 snares. I seem to be speaking so positively about what 
 I must be ignorant of, that I am afraid my opinion is worth 
 even less than usual ; 'but supposing the representation in 
 your friend's letter to be coiTect, and Jeremy Taylor right 
 in his Diidor Dubitantium, touching the management of 
 a scrupulous conscience, (p. 158 et seqq.,) I don't think 
 I can be very wide of the mark ; besides you have given 
 me a pretty broad hint in what way you mean to proceed, 
 and wish to be advised. At any rate a person of this tem- 
 perament should be cautioned, as matter of duty, to refrain 
 from binding herself by anything like voluntary vows in 
 future; it is a mere snare, and should be repressed like 
 any other temptation. If she cannot be quite satisfied, (as- 
 at times I suppose she will not,) with having broken through 
 her own rule in this instance, why cannot she add one sen- 
 tence to her morning or evening devotions, relating to this- 
 particular subject ; this, if made habitual, would, as it seems^ 
 to me, answer all purposes ; but she must not be fanciful, 
 and imagine one's prayers do no good if one is uncom- 
 fortable all the time. I am sure it would be bad enough 
 with some of us, if we let present comfort come into our 
 calculations on that matter. 
 " Fairford, April 2%, 1827." 
 
 These are but instances ; he was busy too in his- 
 theological reading, and acquiring that intimate know- 
 ledge of the Fathers, which had such a marked in- 
 fluence on his theological feeling, if I may use that 
 
Return to Fair ford. 151 
 
 term, and the habitual train of his thoughts on any- 
 religious question. He was examining too, with an 
 interest awakened by the times, the foundation and 
 the limits of the alliance of Church and State, spe- 
 cially of the right of the latter to interfere with the 
 former in matters purely ecclesiastical. In the letter 
 dated June 22, 1827, in which he mentions the pub- 
 lication of "The Christian Year," he goes on to a 
 consideration which seems to me very interesting, 
 and which I know not whether any other writer 
 has ever noticed or enlarged on. It was clearly an 
 original thought to Keble : — 
 
 " The speculation," says he, " I referred to in a former 
 letter, and on which you desired more explanation, was 
 this. It seems clear to me, on reading over the Old Testa- 
 ment, that the example of the Jews as a nation, is there 
 held out in such a way as to regulate and correct the re- 
 ligious conduct of us Christians as individuals. The cove- 
 nant with them collectively was a type of that made with us 
 separately ; and the faults into which they fell analogous to- 
 what may be expected, and to what we really experience, in. 
 our own private dealings with the Almighty ; this, I suppose,, 
 is what makes the Old Testament,, as a whole, so useful to 
 be considered by every Christian ; and in this I persuade 
 myself that I see a strong auxiliary evidence of the truth of 
 both dispensations, as well as divers other useful corollaries;, 
 if I could but develope them ; but it will take a great deal 
 of reading, thinking, and writing, to make out the matter 
 properly and usefully, and I have only, as it were, begun to 
 think about it. I mention it to you, that you may tell, me: 
 
152 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 if it seems absurd at first sight, or sufficiently done already. 
 I should like, if I could, to turn my hours to some account ; 
 but long habits of idleness are not got over in a moment. 
 I have been to Oxford once or twice lately, and it makes 
 one quite fidgetty to see what a bustle and business every 
 one is always in. I had half a mind to go to Bishop Lloyd 
 and ask him to set me some task." 
 
 He had a great regard and respect for that good, 
 and able, and original man, and he thought his ser- 
 vices as Divinity Professor, especially the private 
 Lectures which he instituted, extremely valuable. 
 The Bishop also was very fond of him. 
 
 Although Keble speaks of his idleness, which in- 
 deed he was fond of doing, the preceding months of 
 the year had brought about the completion, and 
 finished the printing of " The Christian Year." Pur- 
 suing my plan of giving all details which seem to 
 me at all interesting in respect of this great work, 
 I must go back a little in my narrative and my ex- 
 tracts from his letters. In the beginning of February 
 he acknowledges to me the return of some part of 
 the manuscript which had been under my hands; 
 he does this with his usual overflowing kindness, and 
 I could hardly transcribe the passage, if I had not 
 to qualify it by adding, that I believe after all he 
 rejected, and with good reason, a very large pro- 
 portion of my suggestions. The passage, moreover, 
 adds a fact worth preserving as to, the adviser to 
 whom we owe the beautiful Verses on the "Occa- 
 
Publication of " The Christian Year" 153 
 
 sional Services," which, curiously enough, seem not 
 to have formed part of his original plan : — 
 
 " Now I must thank you with all my might for the very 
 kind trouble you have taken about my concerns ; you have 
 set to work like a true friend, and I shall always love you 
 the better for it, only I am afraid you have been taking 
 a good deal more trouble than the affair was worth. I have 
 set myself at work rather hardish to revise the MS., and 
 have made a good many corrections, one or two I hope to 
 re-write entirely ; and I also want to add something on 
 each of the ' Occasional Services,' in pursuance of a hint 
 I had from Davison. I have done a few stanzas for the 
 Communion, and if I have a good spring-flow of rhyme, I 
 hope to be ready with the others, as. far as the Commina- 
 tion, in a month or six weeks, and then I purpose to go up 
 to Oxford, and print without delay. I had wished to put it 
 off for a year for the sake of the vignettes, but my father 
 seems really anxious to have it done without loss of time, 
 and I think one should be uncomfortable, if one did not 
 try one's best to meet his wishes ; at the same time, I am 
 quite aware of the defects you mention, and will do my 
 best to mend them. I shall, however, be the more easy in 
 not sending the rest of the MS. to you, as most of the pas- 
 sages you have marked were places which I was before dis- 
 satisfied with, and wished to alter ; in some few you have 
 not caught my meaning, as I beUeve, through hurry, and 
 in some I differ in grammar or taste ; but on the whole, I 
 am exactly of your mind, and I hope to be a tolerable 
 substitute for you in the office of criticising the rest. My 
 theological plans, about which you enquire, are hardly 
 plans enough to be stated on paper ; they are mere schemes 
 floating loosely in my head. But when I have done this 
 
154 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 job, and read one or two more of the Fathers, I hope to 
 tell myself something more clearly about it. Farewell, my 
 most dear friend. 
 
 •• Fairford, Febi g, 1827." 
 
 The natural wish of his aged father to see the 
 work published before he died, made it now to him 
 an imperative duty to delay no longer ; from this- 
 time he neither hesitated nor flagged in the prose- 
 cution of the work. His mention of vignettes had 
 reference to a scheme, which he rather favoured at 
 this time, of illustrating the book, with the help of 
 some accomplished lady friends. Several vignettes, 
 as he calls them, were indeed drawn ; but he aban- 
 doned this idea, which Cornish dissuaded him from p 
 and thenceforward he always opposed anything of the: 
 kind, though it was more than once pressed on him. 
 I rather think he did not abide by the prudent re- 
 solution he announces of sending no more of the MS. 
 to me for my criticism, for I possess a later and de- 
 tailed acknowledgment, in which I was more sur- 
 prised than pleased, to find that I had actually re- 
 commended the suppression entirely of the verses 
 on the Tenth Sunday after Trinity. He meets this 
 very simply with the remark, that it was a special 
 favourite with some others of his critics. 
 
 On the 22nd of June, 1827, he announced to me 
 that my copy of "The Christian Year" was on the 
 road from Oxford, and on the next day I received- 
 it. His announcement was short and simple, and 
 
Publication of" The Christian Year." 155 
 
 -without comment, and then he passed on, as he 
 said, " to more interesting affairs/' I am certain 
 that he had not the shghtest idea at the time how 
 important was the gift he had made to the world, 
 nor how decisive a step he had taken in respect of 
 his own character and reputation. We who had 
 watched the work from the beginning were some- 
 what more enHghtened, perhaps ; but we had not, 
 I think, fully comprehended the importance of the 
 volume ; we had, indeed, a very high opinion of it ; 
 we thought it would gradually win its way, and would 
 exercise a great influence^on its readers, but we were 
 none of us prepared for its immediate success, still 
 less for such a success as befel it. I have lying 
 before me Mr. J. H. Parker's summary of the ac- 
 count from the beginning to January, 1854; in this 
 period of less than twenty-six years I find io8,oco 
 copies were issued in forty-three editions. The sale 
 of the work never flagged through the remainder of 
 his life ; and in the Memoir of Mr. Moor, to which 
 I have so often referred, a statement is made (espe- 
 cially remarkable considering a circumstance to which 
 I must advert presently), that in the nine months im- 
 mediately following his death seven editions were 
 issued of 1 1,000 copies. 
 
 After what I have said above of my critical suc- 
 cess in regard to this work in the prime of my life,, 
 I should be very unwise if in advanced old age I 
 were to venture on an elaborate criticism of it here,. 
 
156 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 Indeed, it seems to me hardly the fit subject for 
 mere literary criticism as a volume of poetry. What- 
 ever can be desired of that kind, however, has been 
 admirably done already by Professor Shairp, of St. 
 Andrews, in an " Essay on the Author of the Chris- 
 tian Year," published at Edinburgh in 1866, and 
 those of my readers who shall be induced by this 
 notice to read that masterly little book, will thank 
 me, I am sure, for having referred them to it. 
 
 Yet the publication of " The Christian Year" was 
 such an event in Keble's life, and the work itself so 
 interesting and important, that I venture to set down, 
 not with .any system or order, what are rather my 
 personal experiences in the reading it, than anything 
 like regular criticism upon it. This may, perhaps, 
 be the way in which my remarks may be most use- 
 ful, especially to young persons. I will say, then, 
 that it is one of those volumes of poetry which no 
 one should take up to read through at once, or as 
 a continued study ; few volumes even of miscel- 
 laneous poetry will bear this ; but the very design 
 of " The Christian Year" protests against it ; it was 
 meant, and should be taken, as an accompaniment 
 to the services of the Prayer-book. It will be found 
 to have a special significance, if read as such ; and 
 for this mode of study and meditation, it is particu- 
 larly fitted by two among other qualities. The first 
 that it is so wonderfully Scriptural. Keble's mind 
 was by long, and patient, and affectionate study of 
 
Publication of ^ The Christian Year!' 157 
 
 Scripture, so imbued with it, that its language, its 
 train of thought, its mode of reasoning, seem to flow 
 out into his poetry, almost, one should think, un- 
 consciously to himself. They are always there, yet 
 never intruded. Many times, I may say for myself, 
 the meaning of what had been an obscure passage 
 in Holy Writ, or the true character and teaching of 
 an incident, has flashed on me in reading the verses, 
 of which it has been made the text for the day's me- 
 ditation. I have heard of a clergyman in a rural 
 parish in Worcestershire who was in the habit of 
 reading, and explaining from the pulpit, in lieu of 
 an afternoon sermon, the poem for the Sunday ; and 
 I have no doubt such a practice, with proper com- 
 ments, might be pursued with very good effect. It 
 has often struck me, what an excellent skeleton of 
 a sermon this or that poem suggests. The second 
 quality I would notice, is its almost inexhaustible 
 novelty ; whether this be owing to the depth of the 
 thought, the pregnancy of the language, or, as severer 
 critics have said, to the imperfect expression of the 
 thought, or to all combined, I will not undertake to 
 decide ; but speaking generally, I should say, read it 
 as often as you will, you will find it on each perusal 
 to contain or to suggest some new matter for reflec- 
 tion. Take it up when you will, you are never likely 
 to skim through a poem, as one sometimes does with 
 what is familiar, however one may admire it ; some 
 
158 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 thought seemingly new will arrest your attention, 
 make you pause, and set you upon consideration. 
 This is surely a great merit in a volume of poems 
 .intended to serve in the way of a manual. 
 
 I would further suggest to a new reader of the 
 book, to remark on the vivid accuracy of Keble's 
 descriptions of natural incidents or objects. I think 
 Dr. Stanley has somewhere observed on this merit 
 in Keble's poetry in regard to what he had never 
 seen, the scenery of the East, and specially of the 
 Holy Land ; but we may all of us judge of it gene- 
 rally in regard to our own country. He was short- 
 sighted, and though he was fond of simple music, 
 he had not a keen or accurate ear for it. He com- 
 plains in a well-known passage of the dulness of 
 his hearing to apprehend the full beauty of har- 
 monious sounds ; yet whether as to objects of sight 
 ■or sound, his numberless descriptions are accurate, 
 not only in the general, but in the slightest and 
 most delicate features : he seems to have observed 
 them all, as true poets are sure to do, with a lover- 
 like, and yet a discriminating interest ; and his lan- 
 guage is never more definite and distinct than in 
 these passages. It is hard to forbear, but I must 
 not indulge myself in citations. There is still an- 
 ■other circumstance, which I have always been struck 
 with, the happiness with which he spiritualizes all 
 that he describes of natural scenery, and how con- 
 
Publication of " J Jte Christian Year!' 159 
 
 ■stantly he deals with it in this way; one stanza I 
 •cite, not so much as an instance, but as illustrating 
 any meaning : — ■ 
 
 " He whose heart will bound to mark 
 The full bright burst of summer mom, 
 Loves too each little dewy spark 
 
 By leaf or flow'ret worn : 
 Cheap forms, and common hues, 'tis tme, 
 Through the bright shower-drop meet his view ; 
 The colouring may be of this earth ; 
 T/ie lustre comes of heavenly birth." 
 
 Second Sunday after Trinity. 
 
 I am not now unfolding the beauties, or passing- 
 judgment on the faults, of this wonderful book ; its 
 great, and rapid, and not less its enduring success, 
 it is not at first sight easy to account for ; it cer- 
 tainly cannot be ascribed to its addressing especially 
 ^ny one party in the Church ; although the opinions 
 of the author, whoever he might be, were declared 
 throughout with sufficient distinctness, yet the book 
 found favour equally with all ; it did not rest in. 
 the beginning on the great name of its author ; for 
 .some time its author was not known, and had it 
 fceen, he had earned no reputation in the world at 
 large which could have procured him such a host 
 of readers. When it ceased to be anonymous in 
 substance, party heat in the Church, and the very 
 distinction he had earned, might, one would have 
 thought, have diminished its general acceptance. 
 
i6o Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 I have no reason to believe that it has, even to the 
 present time. 
 
 It is natural to ask to what cause especially is 
 this exceptional success to be attributed, and will it 
 still continue ? I trust that an affirmative answer to 
 the latter question may be given, founded on what 
 I believe to be the true answer to the first. Of 
 course the general success must be in a great mea- 
 sure attributed to the general merits of the execu- 
 tion ; without the intrinsic beauty of the poetry, no 
 success, or a very incomplete one, could have been 
 obtained by the greatest excellence in the design; 
 and, again, but for this last, the mere beauty of the 
 poetry would, I think, after a while, have only placed 
 the book on the library shelf with other volumes of 
 beautiful poems in the language, a classic acknow- 
 ledged and little read, exercising no daily and per- 
 manent influence. Now, as we know, a library book, 
 or a book of the house, is just what it is not; it 
 is rather a book of each person, and each room in 
 the house. The design of it is very simply stated 
 in the Preface. Keble wished to help towards the 
 establishment of " a sober standard of feeling in mat- 
 ters "of practical religion," and this by a work in 
 close harmony with, and constant reference to, our 
 Liturgy. In his title-page his motto is, "In quiet- 
 ness and in confidence shall be your strength." But 
 this object, and this mode of obtaining it, both im- 
 ply an appeal to a feeling, I believe, the most com- 
 
Publication of " The Christian Year!' i6l 
 
 mon and abiding in the heart of man, wherever ab- 
 sorbing worldliness or inveterate habits of vice have 
 not overpowered it ; I mean the religious and de- 
 votional sentiment. This may seem too flattering 
 an estimate of the human heart, but it must be re- 
 membered, I do not speak of practice ; I do not 
 speak even of sentiment, that necessarily results in 
 a good life ; but of sentiment and feeling merely. So 
 limited, I believe the proposition to be true. How 
 much of the pleasure we all take in works of fic- 
 tion is owing to the existence of this feeling in our 
 hearts. Those who shrink from the trials which 
 religion may impose, and those who feel willing to 
 undergo them, equally find their hearts excited by 
 the lively picture of suffering, or triumphant virtue, 
 though with regard to the former some bitterness may 
 mingle with the sweet ; and these two classes make 
 up the bulk of those who read. On the other hand; 
 speaking generally, how cold are we in comparison 
 to the story which tells us of the labours of intellect, 
 the perseverance or ingenuity of the discoverer, the 
 intrigues of the politician. And is not this because 
 the former takes us more out of what is purely 
 selfishj and brings us more close to what is religious 
 in our nature ? Now to this feeling in the human 
 heart " The Christian Year" makes unceasing appeal, 
 with a voice so earnest, so manifestly sincere, so sad 
 in its hopefulness, so unpretending as to the speaker, 
 yet so authoritative and confident as to the cause 
 
 M 
 
1 62 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 and the subject, that for the time it is commonly- 
 irresistible ; and to be so moved, as it is among the 
 purest, so unquestionably it is among the highest of 
 the pleasures which we are capable of enjoying. 
 
 This is an argument which I know must depend 
 for its acceptance mainly on the inward conscious- 
 ness and feelings of those to whom it may be ad- 
 dressed. And therefore I would ask any reader 
 ■gifted with an ordinary degree of poetical feeling, 
 what has been the effect of reading the verses for 
 the day in "The Christian Year'' under favourable 
 circumstances of quiet and leisure 1 I apprehend that 
 although immediately on the perusal, the thoughts 
 wHich it occasions will vary much with the past con- 
 'duct of the individual, in the end he will find he 
 has passed very much into that state of feeling in 
 regard to himself, which his conscience approves, and 
 towards his fellow-creatures and his Maker that in 
 which he would desire to be ; he will feel soberly 
 hopeful as to himself; loving, grateful, and reveren- 
 tial towards his Maker. And is not this the greatest 
 happiness we can expect in this life. On these 
 grounds I explain the Volume's exceptional and 
 continued success, and I hope with great confidence 
 .for its indefinite enduring. It would lead me too far 
 ■afield, if I compared its prospects on these grounds 
 with Herbert's poeiils, which, however justly admired, 
 and still studied by some, have certainly lost much 
 •of their general popularity. In truth the two men 
 
Publication of " The Christian Year!' 163 
 
 were more alike than their works, and what I have 
 said may be true of "The Christian Year," and yet 
 could not be truly said of " The Church." 
 
 Keble would not have assented to these conclu- 
 sions : as Wilkes is reported to have said he was 
 no Wilkite, so Keble certainly was not a " Christian 
 Year" man. Of course I do not suppose that he 
 could think, or would profess, that it had no merits; 
 like other modest men in regard to their own com- 
 positions, he thought these over-rated ; and his taste 
 -and judgment made him very conscious of its faults 
 in execution and finish ; but this does not ade- 
 ■<juately explain the position of his mind with re- 
 gard to it; it is strange, but it is certain that he 
 always spoke of it, and that was seldom, with 
 something of sadness and dissatisfaction. I do not 
 think he often read it. There were reasons for 
 this deeper than causes merely critical, and they 
 are worth considering ; the poems unavoidably paint 
 Keble's own heart; they flowed out from it upon 
 subjects which lay deepest and nearest to it, and 
 no one can read them without believing all things 
 good of the author. Keble felt this ; he knew what 
 the picture displayed ; he knew it would be taken 
 for a faithful likeness ; he did not indeed fear the 
 charge of self-display, but he thought the picture 
 not true; he asked himself, was he then right in 
 exhibiting it .' and the good opinion of the world, 
 on which lie knew a woe had been pronounced, was 
 
164 Memoir of the Rev. yokn Keble. 
 
 to him with this impression a cause of real sorrow. 
 In his poem on the "Danger of Praise," in the Lyra 
 Innocentium, he says : — 
 
 " And ah ! to him what tenfold woe, 
 Who hides so well his sin, 
 Through earth he seems a saint to go, 
 Yet dies impure within." 
 
 I have no doubt he had reference here to himself. 
 Praise was at all times really painful to him. In 
 writing to him on his mother's death I had used 
 language, the particulars of which I do not recol- 
 lect — but I spoke of him and his discharge of filial 
 duties as I sincerely felt. Dyson, it appears, and 
 some others in their letters of consolation, had written 
 in the same strain — in his answer to me, he says : — 
 
 " I am afraid I shall be able only to send you an imsatis* 
 factory hurried sort of letter, but I would rather do so, than 
 let time run on, as I have done so often before, without 
 thanking you as I do from my heart for your kind consoling 
 letter ; kind in all respects except some partial expressions, 
 such as I would beg it of you as a kindness to forbear ; they 
 please me so well at first, that I am quite sure they are best 
 not thrown in my way ; and when I come to look at them 
 or think of them afterwards, they seem, as it were, to spoil 
 the rest of the letter : if you please., therefore, do not send 
 me any more of them." 
 
 To Dyson he says — 
 
 " Your kind letter came to me at Oxford at a moment 
 when I needed it, and proved, I assure you, a real comfort 
 
Publication of " The Christian Year" 165 
 
 to me ; indeed, I fear I was more delighted than I ought, 
 both with your letter and 2 or 3 others which I received 
 at the same time ; for it is humiliating to see, on reading 
 them over, how much undeserved credit one's friends give 
 one. But this will not bear talking about." 
 
 It was the one subject on which ever after I was 
 obliged in writing to him to be very guarded in my 
 language, even when I wrote on occasions which 
 had excited my feelings of admiration strongly ; for 
 though he could not write otherwise than gently and 
 affectionately, I felt sure I had given him pain. 
 
 I have already printed an extract from his letter 
 to Mr. Pruen respecting the Dedication. That is 
 now very properly printed, I believe, in the Editions 
 which have issued since his death, but he never 
 would print it during his life. I remember when, in 
 1858, he allowed Mr. Parker to publish a handsome 
 Edition in small folio, I suggested, or, rather, asked 
 his permission for the printing it ; he would not ab- 
 solutely deny me, but he yielded in language mani- 
 festing so clearly his unwillingness, that it would 
 have been unkind to act on it, and I forbore. 
 
 In all this he was perfectly sincere, nor can I think 
 his feeling morbid, or unreasonable, though it may 
 have been, indeed was in my judgment, exaggerated. 
 The more pure and holy a man is, the more odious 
 will sin be to him ; and beside this, the more en- 
 tirely will he refer every successful resistance to 
 temptation, every good thought, all continuance in 
 
1 66 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 purity to the special favour of God, and feel that it 
 calls on him for a more lively gratitude than com- 
 mon ; so that every declension, through human in- 
 firmity unavoidable, will come to his conscience em- 
 bittered with the sense of special ingratitude ; sin in 
 one who feels himself so favoured will seem double 
 sin. This, I think, is the explanation of the decla- 
 ration of St. Paul respecting himself, which I have 
 always looked on as perfectly sincere. I am not 
 comparing Keble, of course, with the great Apostle, 
 but the same principle of judgment applies to both^ 
 indeed, to all good men ; and when they say such 
 things of themselves, though we may think them too- 
 severe in their judgments, we should acquit them of 
 insincerity, and the miserable weakness of seeking 
 for compliments. 
 
 Keble always published "The Christian Year" 
 anonymously : at first the secret of authorship was 
 tolerably well kept, but it was a prisoner committed 
 to the custody of too many not to escape soon ; 
 however he availed himself always of the masque 
 as he pleased, and sometimes he played with it 
 amusingly enough. Not long after the publication, 
 an old pupil, Mr. Bliss, in writing to him, mentioned 
 the work, with some speculation as to the author;, 
 it might be, intending only to sound him ; he an- 
 swers, however : — 
 
 " I have seen the little book you mention, and I think 
 I have heard it was written by an Oriel man. I have no 
 
Publication of " The Christian Year'.' \6f 
 
 wish to detract from its merit, but I can't say I am much in 
 expectation of its cutting out our friend George Herbert." 
 
 I add, mainly for another reason, two notes writ- 
 ten to a dignitary of the Church long after, who had 
 questioned him as to the use of the word "wilder- 
 . ing " in the verses on the Fifth Sunday in Lent : — 
 
 " Ye, too, who tend Christ's wildering flock." 
 
 He says in answer : — 
 
 " My Dear , 
 
 "It is very little use being anonymous, if one is to 
 answer for the sense, or nonsense of all one writes just 
 the same. 
 
 "But do you not think that such a passage as Ezekiel 
 xxxiv. 12, in the Bible, and the mention of 'Christ's sheep^ 
 that are scattered abroad' in the Ordination Service, joined' 
 with the present state of Christendom, is enough to justify 
 and explain the word ? 
 
 " You know the ' C. Y.' (as far as I remember it) every 
 where supposes the Church to be in a state of decay. 
 " Ever my dear friend, 
 
 " affect'^ yours, 
 
 "J. Keble." 
 
 To this there was a reply which I have not seen^ 
 and to that this rejoinder : — 
 
 " Brooking near Totness, 
 April 15, 1858. 
 " My Dear , 
 
 " As a proof that my conscience is not quite gone, I had 
 really put your letter up to be answered among others- 
 
1 68 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 when I left home for this place, and I now return its in- 
 closures with many thanks. It is very pleasant to find so 
 much sympathy with one's own travelling thoughts, such as 
 they were in times past, or rather such as one wished them 
 to be. 
 
 " With respect to the word which gave occasion to our 
 little correspondence, I find that according to Johnson, 
 there is or was such word as ' wildering ' or 'to wilder ' — 
 only unluckily for me it is a verb active — the same as 
 to ' bewilder.' So it must be considered an error, and 
 ' wandering ' or some such word must be kindly substituted 
 for it. I find it unluckily in the Oxford ' Psalter ' also. 
 
 " I am always, 
 
 " My dear , 
 
 "Affect'^your's, 
 " J. Keble." 
 
 It occurs in other parts of the book. 
 
 In .spite of his concluding sentence it will be found, 
 I believe, that the word " wildering " remained in all 
 the editions published in his lifetime, and the line 
 remains unaltered still. It happened to me more than 
 once to point out some inaccuracy of language, or 
 metre, admitting easily of correction ; he used to 
 answer not unkindly, but coldly, and intimated in 
 effect that it was not worth while to alter it. This 
 was the result, in great measure, of the feeling which 
 he had grown to entertain towards the book, as 
 well as of his constant occupation and the habit of 
 procrastination, which, of course, did not decrease 
 with years. He seemed to me not unconscious of 
 the merits of the book, or of its probable usefulness ; 
 
Publication of" The Ckristiajt Year'' 169 
 
 but as if he half wished to disconnect himself from 
 it, and as if he would rather it had been the work of 
 some one else than himself. I have accounted for 
 this, which seems so strange, as well as I can. 
 
 In the first two editions, there were no verses on 
 what are called the State Services ; he did not regard 
 them as an integral part of the Common Prayer-book, 
 and I cannot now recall why he was induced to write 
 upon them. In the verses on the " Gunpowder Trea- 
 son" he wrote a stanza, which on the first reading 
 might certainly lead one to suppose that he denied 
 the Presence of our Lord's Body in the Elements after 
 consecration. Nobody, however, who knew his opi- 
 nions on this subject, (and they were expressed openly 
 again and again in public, and in private, and in print, 
 with earnestness and uniformity,) could believe that he 
 intended to be so understood ; and when challenged 
 on the subject, he always maintained that his lan- 
 guage was misunderstood, and that any writer whose 
 sentiments were unquestionably known should in jus- 
 tice have his language interpreted according to those 
 sentiments, where the meaning was not necessarily 
 opposed to them. He pointed out that the omission 
 of the word " only" after the expression " not in the 
 hands," raised the whole difficulty, and for that short 
 way of speaking he referred to passages in Scrip- 
 ture, which are numerous, as authority. The matter 
 was mentioned to him several times, but he de- 
 clined to make any alteration. Some weeks before 
 
170 Memoir of the Rev. yohn Keble. 
 
 his death, however, a member of the Upper House 
 of Convocation, addressing it, quoted the hnes with 
 approbation in the sense most commonly attributed 
 to them ; this he thought entirely altered the case,, 
 and ought to prevent him from any longer over- 
 looking or acquiescing in the misinterpretation, and 
 he determined therefore to accept an alteration which 
 had been before suggested by a friend ; he at once 
 directed that when a new edition should be called 
 for, this should be substituted for the old readings 
 with a note, the substance of which he dictated. 
 At the time he did this, there was no illness upon 
 him which apparently threatened his life ; a fortnight 
 later, in a note to me about Mrs. Keble's state, he 
 says, " As for myself, I eat, drink, and sleep heartily, 
 so you need be in no care about me so far." His 
 anxiety was entirely about her, and both contem- 
 plated that he would be the survivor. It pleased 
 God that he should die first. She to whom he be- 
 queathed the copyright, naturally felt bound by the 
 injunction ; and when she bequeathed the copyright 
 to her nephew, she imposed it on him, — this direction, 
 he of course obeyed. 
 
 It cannot be doubted, on these facts, that the 
 alteration was Keble's own as much as if he had 
 written it himself years before, and that neither Mrs. 
 Keble, or her nephew, could properly exercise any 
 discretion in the m.atter. It would have seemed a 
 matter of course for the latter to make it ; and in- 
 
Publication of " The Christian Year." 171 
 
 deed, when thus explained, to be of little importance- 
 in itself. Keble's belief, it must be remembered, had 
 been long and generally known ; no one could have 
 cited him as an authority for the doctrine which the- 
 words were supposed to convey ; and it is difficult to 
 understand how any one, knowing his belief, could 
 desire to circulate as his any verses, with the inten- 
 tion thereby of conveying something entirely contrary 
 to it, and acquiring thereby his authority for that 
 which he neither thought nor believed. I must not 
 be understood as making any insinuation of this kind 
 in regard to the Right Reverend Bishop, who, citing 
 the verse to grace the peroration of a speech, cer- 
 tainly was, in fact, the immediate occasion of the 
 alteration. Nor, indeed, do I make any imputation 
 against any individual, or any Body ; what was said 
 and done in consequence — though I cannot approve- 
 it — ^was, I doubt not, done upon grounds which seemed 
 justifiable to the doers. 
 
 To one who is familiar with Keble's diction in 
 "The Christian Year," there is no difficulty in un- 
 derstanding how an ambiguity of expression might 
 occur; and to one who knew him long and well, 
 there is equally no difficulty in understanding either 
 why the alteration was not made before, or why it 
 was directed to be made at the time it was made. 
 I do- not think it was a happy one; but that the 
 direction was given under improper pressure at a 
 time when his judgment was obscured, or his power 
 of maintaining his own opinion enfeebled (and both 
 
1^2 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 have been insinuated,) I am concerned strongly to 
 deny; and those who impute that, I hope have not 
 considered how grave an imputation they cast on 
 his widow and her nephew, who must have known 
 if such had taken place. But there is the most 
 abundant evidence that this subject was perfectly 
 familiar to Keble, and had been on his mind for 
 years. By the kindness of a neighbouring clergy- 
 man, the Rev. Samuel Walker, who had written to 
 him in February, 1863, I am able to print the 
 material part of a letter, which sets this at rest : — 
 
 " My dear Sir, 
 
 " I am obliged by your kind suggestion regarding the 
 passage in the ' Christian Year.' For many years it has 
 been a matter which I have thought of at odd times, and 
 you will find in my dear friend Hurrell Froude's 'Remains' 
 that complaints were made of it near thirty years ago. I 
 thought of an alteration, but other friends over-ruled it 
 Nor am I at present disposed to make any. Your's, I fear, 
 would hardly come up to what is wanted in the way of 
 doctrine. In a Note to the Preface of tlie Second Edition 
 of a book of mine, which nobody reads, on ' Eucharistical 
 Adoration,' I have given my own commentary on it : that 
 it is to be understood, " Not in the hands <?«/)'," as against 
 a carnal presence — vide S. John vi. 63 ; and the same idiom 
 recurs elsewhere. 
 
 " I have been shewn a passage in St Bernard, but cannot 
 now recall it, which seemed to me to justify the expression. 
 
 " Do you not think that if it can be justified, it had best 
 be retained, were it only to help in shewing, that such say- 
 ings do not necessarily bear such a meaning, and must be 
 
Publication of" The Christian Y£ar." 173 
 
 interpreted consistently with the writer's sentiments known 
 unquestionably in other ways ?" 
 
 Thus he wrote more than three years before his 
 death, and thus he could not have written, had he 
 intended to teach what those, who quarrelled with 
 the alteration, desired he should be understood to 
 have taught. 
 
 There is a story recorded by Isaac Walton, regard- 
 ing George Herbert's "Temple," which is very ap- 
 posite, and I will close what I have felt compelled to 
 say on this painful matter, with repeating it. It is 
 well known that in his last illness George Herbert 
 committed the manuscript to the care of his friend 
 Nicholas Ferrar, desiring him to publish it or burn it, 
 according as he should think "it might turn to the 
 advantage of any dejected poor soul," or not. 
 
 Mr. Ferrar, it is said, found that " there was in it 
 the picture of a divine soul in every page, and that 
 the whole book was such a harmony of holy pas- 
 sions, as would enrich the world with pleasure and 
 piety :" he proceeded accordingly to publish. 
 
 " And this," says Walton, " ought to be noted, that 
 when Mr. Ferrar sent this book to Cambridge to be 
 licensed for the press, the Vice-Chancellor would by 
 no means allow of the two so much noted verses — 
 " Religion stands a tip-toe in our land. 
 Ready to pass to the American strand," 
 
 to be printed. 
 
 No doubt the Vice-Chancellor thought them untrue 
 
174 Memoir of the Rev. John Kehle. 
 
 in fact, and likely to be injurious to the Church ; 
 which at that time many might see reason for be- 
 lieving. Nicholas Ferrar, however, felt that he had 
 no power to enter into such considerations, and the 
 controversy finally ended thus : " The Vice-Chan- 
 cellor said, I knew Mr. Herbert well, and know that 
 he had many heavenly speculations, and was a divine 
 poet ; but I hope the world will not take him to 
 be an inspired prophet, and therefore I license the 
 wJwle book." 
 
 Nicholas Ferrar discharged a plain duty conscien- 
 tiously, and the Vice-Chancellor acted with great 
 good sense. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 PROVOSTSHIP OF ORIEL. — EDITION OF HOOKER'S 
 WORKS. — INDIA-HOUSE EXAMINATIONS. 
 
 KEBLE was called on as early as the fall of the 
 year 1827 to prepare "The Christian Year" 
 for a second edition ; — 
 
 " But," he says, writing to me in September, " I own I am 
 -a little heartless about correcting ; if things don't come of 
 themselves, I very seldom find they come upon my calling 
 for them. Moreover, having done admiring the print and 
 paper, I find my own defects staring me more and more in 
 the face as I read ; so it is to be feared I shall not do much 
 for one while." 
 
 In answer I pressed him : — 
 
 " Pray let no tsedium or laziness prevent 'you from buck- 
 Ting yourself up to the task with an ardent spirit j tliey are 
 so good, and may do so much, that it is a duty to make 
 them as perfect as possible j the fault is obscurity of ex- 
 pression, here and there, and inadequacy in other places." 
 
 And then I went on into some particulars, but to 
 'borrow Wordsworth's words : — 
 
 " 'Twas throwing words away ; for still 
 The wayward bard would have his will." 
 
 But ' now came an event which occupied his atten- 
 
176 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 tion considerably for a short while. Dr. Copleston was 
 raised to the Bench as Bishop of Llandafif, and at the 
 same time appointed to the Deanery of St. Paul's ; he 
 had been Dean of Chester, and held that office with 
 the Provostship, a not unusual thing at that time. In- 
 deed, there were shortly before two instances at Ox- 
 ford, of Heads of Houses remaining such as Bishops. 
 But with Dr. Copleston this was quite out of the 
 question. Of course Keble's friends were anxious 
 to see him at the Head of Oriel, and I find both Dy- 
 son and I wrote to him ; how Dyson expressed him- 
 self I do not know, but I must have written un- 
 guardedly and one-sidedly. He answered me thus, 
 after playing a little with the supposition that there 
 might after all be no vacancy : — 
 
 " Fairford, 
 -Dec; 3, 1827. 
 " To say the truth, I should not at all choose, just at 
 present, to have to make up my mind on the matter you 
 propose to me ; a thousand things would come in, of which 
 no one but myself can possibly judge, and which would 
 make it rather a perplexing case to me. I am not so in- 
 sensible to ambition, and that sort of thing, as you seem to 
 think me ; and many such letters as your last would, I am 
 afraid, help to make me more or less uncomfortable in re- 
 tirement; however, in my cool and deliberate judgment, 
 which I am sure I am now exerting, this first Monday in 
 Advent, 1827, I must protest against the doctrine, that 
 a man may not be as truly and thoroughly useful in such 
 a situation as I am now in, or in any other which Pro- 
 
Provostship of Oriel. 177 
 
 vidence may put him into, as if he moved in a command- 
 ing sphere, and were what the world calls an influential 
 character. I hope, therefore, if there is a vacancy, and the 
 Fellows propose it to me, that I shall be able to see my 
 way clearly, and come to a right decision ; at present I 
 really do not know what I should answer, and I repeat it 
 again, that nobody can judge for me. At any rate, if you 
 please do not mention my name as connected with this 
 subject till you are sure there is a vacancy. It must be 
 very unpleasant to Copleston, if he should hear of it ; and 
 I know the temper of Oriel well enough to be sure that any 
 interference, even of the most friendly and delicate kind, 
 would not be well received there. And now having, I 
 trust, set myself up by this last sentence in your honour's 
 opinion as a diplomatic man, and a man of tlie world, I 
 must thank you for your answer to my case." 
 
 " Fairford, 
 Jan. 14, 1828. 
 " My dear old Dyson, 
 " I have been looking to-day at your letter touching the 
 Provostship, and have condemned myself of great ungra- 
 ciousness in not having answered it sooner. You will 
 have heard, I dare say, before now, how the matter is 
 settled; before I heard from you, I had consented to be 
 voted for, but finding there was great diflfererice of opinion, 
 (all, however, in a friendly way,) and that I was very likely, 
 I may say almost sure, to be left in a minority, and feeling 
 moreover that a Headship at Oxford, though no doubt a 
 comfortable respectable concern, would by no means realise 
 my beau ideal of life, and most especially feeling that Haw- 
 kins would come to the work quite free and disengaged, 
 while I should be every moment hankering after Fairford,' 
 
 N 
 
1 78 Ifemoir of the Rev. John Kehle. 
 
 Bisley, or some such place, — all these things considered, I 
 •determined within a few days of the receipt of your letter, 
 to abandon all thought of the offer, and wrote to lay par- 
 iizans, if I may call them so, accordingly. And I have not 
 as yet begun to repent of doing so ; indeed, the more I 
 ■consider the affair, the more I am sure it was right ; and 
 I am very glad you agree with me in thinking so, for I am 
 ■quite sure you do. All here, and at Bisley, take just the 
 same view of the matter as I do ; and so 'tis all just as it 
 -■should be." 
 
 It was not, of course, with out-college men mainly 
 that he corresponded on this subject. Froude, it 
 seems, was the first who communicated to him the 
 Bishop's resignation. Keble says : — 
 
 " I must beg a few days for consideration before I 
 -answer positively; I feel Hawkins's claim to be a very 
 strong one, and almost doubt whether it is right for any- 
 Tjody in the world to be set up, when his inclinations 
 are known." 
 
 And he closes this letter with a playful message : — 
 
 "My very kind love to old Hawkins, and tell him I 
 think we had better put the Provostship in commission ; 
 Tyler take the red gown, Hawkins tlie work, and I the 
 play. Qu'en pensez vous ?" 
 
 Before, however, the end of 1827 he had made up 
 his mind ; and he writes thus to Froude : — 
 
 " Fairford, St. John's Day. 
 
 "Since you went away I have been endeavouring (for 
 without any proem, I think fit to enter at once into the 
 
Provostship of Oriel. 179 
 
 ■selfish part of this letter) to look this matter of the Provost- 
 ship clearly in the face, and find out exactly what I had 
 best do : all being brought into a sum, to the best of my 
 poor judgment, I think I must, with all possible love and 
 thanks to you and others who think as you do, decline it 
 altogether. I don't act thus quite upon pubhc grounds; 
 for to say the plain truth, as far as I can fancy myself 
 judging impartially in such a matter, I can make out but 
 very little difference between H. and myself in positive 
 fitness for the thing; in some respects I look on each of 
 us as fitter than the other. But I have great doubts whe- 
 ther I should be so comfortable there as I am now; and 
 I don't suppose he has any doubt at all. I have calls, as 
 _you know, elsewhere of a more pressing nature than he. 
 I don't fancy College a pleasant place for one's father 
 and sister to visit one at, &c., &c., &c. Now although 
 these objections might all give way, and ought to do so, 
 if one's College absolutely called upon one as the only 
 person, they come in with what I feel to be decisive force, 
 "when there is a difference of opinion to encourage one's 
 natural wish of getting over things as quietly as possible. 
 In case any sort of unpleasant feeling should arise, one 
 should immediately say, 'now this is my fault;' and in 
 a College, and among clergymen, a great deal should 
 surely be given up to ensure freedom from factions and 
 envy. And 'after all our superior advantages. Fellows 
 of Oriel are but men,' and Provosts in esse or in posse, not 
 many degrees superior in the scale of existence. 
 
 " Therefore, my dear fellow, don't think of me any more, 
 l3ut let good old Hawkins walk over the course ; and what 
 I say to you, I mean to say to him, to Plumer, and perhaps 
 -one or two more, by to-morrow's post. And I feel myself 
 safe in this resolution, which I should not by any means 
 
1 So Memoir of the Rev. yohn Keble. 
 
 in the opposite one. For indeed I don't imagine my con- 
 stitution at all charmed against the Oxford epidemic, rather 
 I should say, the Doctorial epidemic everywhere, if you 
 know what that is." 
 
 The kindly feeling these extracts express towards 
 Dr. Hawkins was, I am sure, returned on his part ; 
 and pleasant indeed it is to see a College Election, 
 which is commonly so exciting, conducted between 
 those, who might be considered opposing candidates, 
 in so amiable a spirit. 
 
 Keble wrote to me after the election was over, 
 on the nth of February, 1828, from Fairford. His 
 letter commences with affectionate expressions of 
 sympathy at two family losses, with which we had 
 been visited : — 
 
 " In both cases I know you have the best of consolations 
 in remembering the kindness and goodness of those who 
 are gone. It is a topic of comfort, that one feels more and 
 more, the longer one considers it, to be quite inexhaustible. 
 I dare say yx)u were as glad as I was to meet once again 
 the good old Dyson, as fresh and as cordial as ever. It 
 was an unexpected delight, when I went up to Oxford to 
 the Oriel election, to get a thorough coze with him. How 
 comfortable he seems in his work of coin-inspecting and 
 date-hunting; and is it not rather a rare piece of philo- 
 sophy, that he should take pleasure in the veiy expectation 
 of finding his work too great for him ever to finish. By 
 this time I conclude his wife has joined him again ; and 
 perhaps I may run up and spend a day or two with them, 
 when Noel Ellison is there, he having promised to talie 
 them in his way from the North to Huntspill. 
 
Provostship of Oriel. 1 8 1 
 
 " I hope you don't think I did wrohg in the Oriel affair. 
 If there had been anything hke an unanimous call of the 
 Fellows, I certainly should have thought it right to go; 
 although I am not at all clear that the change would have 
 been for my comfort. As 'tilings were, I felt that I was 
 taking the safe side in declining all thoughts of the thing ; 
 it was not a clear call, and I hold it under such circum- 
 stances always best to let well alone. I do not deny that 
 it might perhaps be more comfortable for me to have fuller 
 employment than I have, yet there must surely be enough 
 for one to do, if one had but a little regular industry, and 
 common sense. For instance, one's time would be well 
 spent in making a sort of analytical index for the next 
 edition of the Ethics, or the Ecclesiastical Polity, or Bishop 
 Sutler ; therefore I have made up my mind to leave off com- 
 plaining of want of work, and to keep contented with my 
 Father and Elizabeth, until I have, as I said, a clear call 
 elsewhere." 
 
 These letters shew distinctly under what influences 
 Keble acted in respect of the Headship of his Col- 
 lege ; had there been no difTerence of opinion among 
 the Fellows, he would have obeyed their call, and 
 been, I am sure, gratified by it ; he would have 
 felt it a duty ; and he was besides very fond of 
 Oxford, of literary society, and of young men ; but 
 he would have gone there with some misgivings, and 
 I can hardly think without some forebodings. Within 
 his College, as the father and friend and pastor, in 
 some sense, of his Fellows and the Students, I sup- 
 pose no one could have excelled him. In these re- 
 
1 82 Memoir of the Rev. John Kehle. 
 
 spects I still think we were right in pressing him ta 
 entertain the notion heartily, and to let his inclina- 
 tions become known at once, and decidedly. We 
 were fond enough of him to think that in these re- 
 spects, without any formality, or pretentiousness,, 
 which might provoke opposition, or ridicule, he 
 would exhibit a sort of model to the University, 
 and contribute to make a great change for the 
 better in its tone and manners. But the duties of 
 the Head of a House in those days, even more than 
 now, extended beyond the walls of his College ; and 
 already there were symptoms, which could hardly 
 have escaped his penetration, of the troubles and 
 hot disputes which not long after began to agitate 
 the University, and not least the Governing Body, 
 of which he would have been a member. In these 
 it is too clear now that he would have been in a 
 minority, and perhaps the very reputation and per- 
 sonal influence which I will suppose him to have 
 acquired, as well as his great ability, might have 
 made his position only the more painful to one of 
 his sensitive nature. Looking back on this passage 
 of his life, I cannot but recognise his non- election 
 as one of those disappointments, (how frequent tliey 
 are,) which one comes to regard as special blessings ;. 
 disappointment I am bound to say as to this, to us 
 rather than to himself 
 
 In the June following he visited me in London,, 
 and I am tempted to make an extract or two from 
 
A mold — Churton. 185 
 
 the first letter I had from him after he had left me ;. 
 this was not until August 21, 1828 : — 
 
 " Wliat a shame ; it is the 2 1" August, and I have not 
 written to thank you for the pleasant days you gave me 
 the beginning of June, for indeed I don't know when I 
 have enjoyed anything so much as my visit to you ; it is 
 a peculiar delight to find anything so domestic and com- 
 fortable, so much like a country parsonage, as your house- 
 in the middle of Law and London. I know we Curates- 
 ought to enjoy ourselves a great deal more than we do ^ 
 but, as it IS, we are a sad grumbling race, and I doubt 
 •whether J of us get as much pleasure from the trees and 
 shrubs we live always amongst, as you do from the snatch 
 you get in your Square for \ an hour before dinner whea 
 you come home from chambers 
 
 " I heard yesterday from Arnold, who seems to be fast 
 taking root at Rugby, and will soon fill the school I dare 
 say. I only hope he will not teach them his own notions 
 of right and wrong in politics. He says you have got some 
 of his Thucydides ; don't sit up at night correcting it, when 
 yon ought to be asleep. I charge you, rather send it to- 
 me, if ynu find it an incumbrance, without minding what 
 the book may lose (or gain) by the difference between us. 
 I very much admire the sort of cheerful, straight-forward 
 way, in which Tommy sets out on his new career. I am 
 sure he is right, and much to be imitated in that, what- 
 ever he may be in his notions about some matters." 
 
 " Poor Churton, about whom I was so anxious when E 
 visited you, gets rapidly worse, and all hope is given up.-- 
 He will be a great and irreparable loss to his family and; 
 friends ; but I never knew any one whom one could trust 
 on a death-bed, humanly speaking, with more confidence;^ 
 
184 Memoir of the Rev. jfohn Kehle. 
 
 that all would turn out well. The only uncomfortable 
 thing is, that his case, (I am much afraid,) was mistaken ; 
 and he was sent to Brighton- at a time when it was pro- 
 bably one of the worst things he could do to go there. 
 However, I do not know why one should be vexed at 
 a mistake of this kind, more than at other circum- 
 stances, in a friend's illness. It is setting up for more 
 infallibility than we have any right to." 
 
 In the September of this year, 1828, he went to 
 Lyme, and I mention this, because this was the first 
 occasion on which I find the name of his future wife 
 introduced into his correspondence. He went "to 
 convoy her and her mother" for her health : — 
 
 " She had been but drooping," he says, " ever since the 
 Spring, and I was not sorry myself for a bit of an excuse 
 to smell, taste, see, and hear my dear friend the sea, whom 
 I seem to like better and better every year of my life. I 
 staid three Sundays, and only came home Saturday week. 
 
 I should very much like to have gone on when I 
 
 was so far West ; but I made a kind of vow to stay quietly, 
 bathe, write, and read, the first of which good resolutions 
 I performed much more accurately than either of the others, 
 to the great strengthening of my nerves, and damage of my 
 complexion. The Clarkes are not yet come home, but 
 Charlotte seemed much mended when I left them ; and we 
 are in good hope she will now be as well as ever again ; 
 she is never a very strong body. Lyme is a beautiful bit 
 of coast to my fancy, one can hardly imagine oneself so 
 near your red cliff's at Sidmouth, the colouring, form, and 
 everything is so very diff'erent. What most strikes me in 
 all these little absences of mine, is the amazing rate at 
 
Mr. Peel, and the Oxford Election. 185 
 
 which Puritanism seems to be getting on all over the king- 
 dom ; if I may judge from what I heard in church and out, 
 the old-fashioned way of Divinity is quite the exception, 
 not the rule, in that district." 
 
 This intimation of an unfavourable opinion in re- 
 gard to the Party in the Church, which was then 
 fighting its way upwards to what I suppose it must 
 be admitted that it has now attained, a more than 
 equal share in numbers and influence, was .not now 
 made for the first time ; his convictions on this sub- 
 ject were very deep-seated in his mind, and were 
 occasioned by no personal, or political feelings ; but 
 by a conviction that it was in error on some points 
 of belief, which to him were cardinal ; and moreover 
 that it was in its effects adverse to that quietness 
 of spirit, humility and charity, which were to him 
 above all price. I need not say that these differ- 
 ences created in him no unkind feeling towards 
 any individual, nor any insensibility to Christian 
 graces, wherever he found them. 
 
 The close of the year 1828, and the beginning of 
 1829, were agitated, it may be remembered; by the 
 vehement discussions of the Roman Catholic Ques- 
 tion. Mr. Peel's change of opinion on that subject, 
 his voluntary, resignation of his seat for the Univer- 
 sity of Oxford, and then allowing himself to be pro- 
 posed for re-election, produced a violent division of 
 parties there. I am not going into these matters now, 
 and I only mention them as they bear personally on 
 
1 86 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 Keble. He had been brought up in, and cherished 
 from conviction, opinions hostile to the proposed 
 concessions, and he was moreover one of that nu- 
 merous body of men who thought it would be a 
 degradation to the University to return Mr. Peel,, 
 "being in office especially," after what had happened. 
 I had been brought up as he had, and had not then 
 changed my convictions on the question, but I dif- 
 fered with him in the conclusion he drew as to the 
 seat. I thought Mr. Peel unquestionably the best man 
 we could elect, and that having changed his mind^ 
 as it was fair to presume, from a knowledge of facts, 
 which we had not, and a sense of necessity, of which 
 we could be no judges, there was nothing in his con- 
 duct to warrant our rejection of him. While for the 
 University I thought, (as I should for individuals,) 
 it would be wise and manly to face the groundless 
 imputation of time-serving rather than dismiss the 
 tried and most efficient servant for doing what he 
 believed to be his duty. So I resolved to vote for 
 Mr. Peel, and I would not decline to be on his Com- 
 mittee. My dear friend was very much distressed; 
 he wrote shortly, and with some heat, and evidently 
 in a wounded spirit. It must be remembered that 
 on all such questions his opinions were "stuff of 
 the conscience." How I answered him I do not re- 
 member ; but we met at the election on opposite 
 sides w?th perfect cordiality, and his letters resumed 
 immediately their old affectionate tone. Not, in- 
 
Vicarage of Hursley offered and declined. 187' 
 
 deed, that he changed his opinions. Writing to 
 Froude, in March, 1 829, he says : — 
 
 "As touching politics, I am in the same mind that I 
 always was, tliat we could not do otherwise than we did 
 in the Election. But I am quite satisfied pf Peel's good 
 intentions, though I cannot acquit him of weakness in giving 
 way for the reasons he states. Yet I give him credit now 
 for no ordinary virtue in keeping his place, when he had 
 given way. The upshot is, that I think well of him, and 
 ill of his measures ; and that I have very little hope of 
 his ever recovering the confidence of the Tories again." 
 
 Towards the close of the year 1829, Archdeacon 
 Heathcote died, and Sir William offered Keble the 
 living ; it was a great temptation to him ; the cir- 
 cumstances, and the manner of the offer touched his 
 heart ; he was fond of the place, and the people, and 
 affectionately attached to, and in point of opinions,, 
 in entire agreement with, the Patron. Writing to- 
 me, he says : — 
 
 "Another old friend I have lost. Archdeacon Heath- 
 cote, of whom I knew less, but have every reason to think 
 highly; indeed, to reproach myself for not having thought 
 highly enough of him whilst he lived, now I know with 
 what grievous bodily pain he had to struggle in order to 
 maintain that composure of his. I was at Hursley a fort- 
 night ago, considering and devising whether or how to 
 accept the Vicarage which was most kindly offered me ; 
 but after a good deal of doubt, and some anxiety, I have 
 written to decline it finally. I hke Heathcote as well as 
 
1 88 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 ever, and am quite sure lie will put it in good hands. I 
 thought of Johnny and Heniy, and our reclinings and 
 wheelings under the large elms, now (most of them) no 
 more. I have accepted a Nomination as Examiner at the 
 India House, mainly in hope of getting a visit to you, and 
 now the rogue? have fixed it to the 31" March, when I 
 fear you will be away. But if we live till November, per- 
 haps we may make it up." 
 
 Thus he seemed to have extinguished all hope of 
 his ever becoming Vicar of Hursley, because he 
 would not quit the care of his father ; in his place 
 the Archdeacon's son was presented, the Rev. Gil- 
 bert Wall Heathcote, a man much younger than 
 himself ; he was presented absolutely, and there was 
 no reason to anticipate another opportunity of bring- 
 ing Keble there. 
 
 The India House Examinations, of which he speaks, 
 were instituted under an Act of Parliament passed in 
 1826, (the 7 G. IV. c. 56,) with the object of supplying 
 more Civil servants for the East India Company than 
 Haileybury was found able to educate. Oxford and 
 Cambridge were to nominate each two Examiners, 
 who should examine candidates at the India House 
 in March and October in each year, and Keble 
 acted in this capacity for the years 1830 and 1831; 
 in the former year I find among his colleagues the 
 name of the present Bishop of St. David's. It seems 
 to have been an office which the Universities filled 
 with men among the most distinguished of their 
 
India House Examinations. 189 
 
 members, and to which such men were well pleased 
 to be appointed. The present Bishops of St. Asaph 
 and Llandaff, were among them. The appointment 
 of Keble was a matter of considerable interest to 
 me, in the hope it gave me of seeing him more often 
 in London. 
 
 His letters were somewhat less frequent at this 
 period, but when he wrote, it was in a light-hearted, 
 affectionate strain, as usual. Thus he begins to me 
 on one occasion : — 
 
 "My dear Friend, — 'What unknown correspondent is 
 this.' say you to Mrs. J. T. C, before you break the seal. 
 ' Oh,' says she, ' I think I have an indistinct remembrance 
 of the hand. Do break it open and see.' ' Well, I have, 
 and he calls me " dear friend ■" let's look to the end of the 
 letter. Oh, Keble : aye, I think I do remember such a 
 name, but the creature used me so ill in not answering 
 my friendly enquiries for half a year together, or more, 
 that I am almost inclined to have nothing more to do 
 with him.' All this, and if there be aught worse which 
 peremptory justice may dictate, I humbly acknowledge 
 myself to have deserved at your Worship's hands, for I 
 really have no excuse. Our health, thanks to our constant 
 Preserver, has continued as usual." 
 
 Then he goes on to tell me of his family, and 
 a visit he had been paying at his brother's : — 
 
 " Tom," says he, " and I set to work and gave little Tom 
 a regular lecture in Toryism and High-Churchmanship 
 in a large folio Clarendon with prints ; he snaps at all the 
 Roundheads, and kisses all the Cavaliers; moreover, he 
 has a great opinion of Edward VI., but is a little perplexed 
 
1 90 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 to know whether Popery is dead or no. As for his sister, 
 .she is all fat and fun, and does not trouble herself with 
 Politics yet. And yet for all these good things, I have 
 'been too cross and la,zy to write a friendly line to my kind 
 host and hostess and Godchild, and all in whom I am in- 
 terested in Torrington Square ; but I am rea.lly ashamed, 
 so do not be too hard upon me." 
 
 According to his promise, he came to us in Oc- 
 tober for the India House Examinations. He talked, 
 -as he had written, in great admiration of Miller's 
 new volume of sermons ; and those who are de- 
 sirous of following his judgment in such matters 
 may like to be told that his favourite sermons were 
 three, those against judging by comparisons, on 
 Family Worship, and on the fiftieth Psalm ; these 
 he was desirous of reprinting in a cheaper form for 
 the use of the poor. 
 
 This, it will be remembered, was the winter re- 
 markable for the formidable agrarian riots in the 
 Western counties. He had now been for years an 
 attentive and honest observer of the condition of the 
 labouring classes, and their feelings. I was one 
 of the Counsel for the Crown who attended the 
 Special Commission into Wiltshire, and had written 
 to him my impressions from Salisbury. I will not 
 give the whole of his answer, but it is worth while 
 to extract a portion : — 
 
 "We have been very much taken up ever since the end 
 of November with talking and thinking of the tumults afore- 
 
Improvement of tJie Condition of tlie Poor. 191 
 
 ■said. I am not inclined so much as you are, I think, to 
 lay the blame of them on tlie farmers ; no doubt their in- 
 solence in many cases, and their extortion in some, has 
 aggravated the tendency to riot ; but I am more and more 
 satisfied that old Malthus, hard and vulgar as he is in many 
 -things, and much as my father and Southey taught me to 
 dislike him, has hit the right nail on the head ; and that 
 -something of this sort sooner or later was the infallible firuit 
 ■of the 43rd Eliz." 
 
 He was against all arbitrary or extorted increase 
 of wages beyond what the fair market price of pro- 
 duce would enable the farmers to pay; and relied 
 for improvement in the condition of the labourers 
 on a gradual emigration, accompanied by a gradual 
 repeal of the Poor Laws as regarded able-bodied 
 men and children. 
 
 It will be seen how much this agrees in substance 
 with what not long after was actually done, and no 
 doubt with good effect ; but I cite the passage 
 rather for the sake of shewing how he could cast 
 -aside in the pursuit of truth a very strong prejudice 
 — and few could have a stronger than he had against 
 Malthus. His was exactly the mind, which turned 
 with something like disgust at one or two of the 
 leading positions of that writer's celebrated work. 
 He was very intent upon this matter, and I find 
 a letter to Dyson, from which I shall have to make 
 an extract immediately, is written on the blank leaf 
 of a printed sketch of his " Plan for the Gradual 
 
192 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 Amendment ^f the System of Parochial Relief in the 
 Southern Counties of England ;" the principle of his 
 scheme was the promotion of emigration, and the 
 means were mainly the empowering of parishes to 
 borrow money on the rates ; but I notice that he 
 had not overlooked, what, in legislation on such 
 matters as relief of the poor, and the education of 
 their children, seems too commonly forgotten, the 
 broad distinction between the South and North of 
 England. 
 
 The letter to which I have just referred relates to 
 a totally different subject. My readers will remem- 
 ber a letter written at the close of the discussion 
 about the Provostship of Oriel, in which, among other 
 possible and proper employments for his time, Keble 
 spoke of the preparation of an Analytical Index to 
 the "Ecclesiastical Polity;" he was now called on 
 to undertake the more worthy employment of editing 
 ■for the Clarendon Press a new edition of the great 
 work itself. What he did upon this call, and how 
 he did it, are now well known ; but in such a matter 
 I think it will be interesting to follow his course by 
 pteps, and to see how, from a very inadequate con- 
 ception on the part of the Delegates in the first in- 
 stance, he was enabled to work out to a great ex- 
 tent his own views, and to vindicate both the book 
 itself and the author from much ill-usage and mis- 
 conception. 
 
 Keble had been an enthusiast about Hooker from 
 
Edition of Hooher' s Works. 193 
 
 his early youth ; the great man's connection with 
 Corpus, and the relics relating to him, preserved in 
 our Archives,, (as a certain special portion of the 
 Library was called,) with which Keble and his brother 
 as early as 18 16 had busied themselves, helped to in- 
 crease this feeling ; partly it was what may be called 
 political ; partly, and I think for the greater part, it 
 was religious : if he could have been bitter in any- 
 thing, it would have been in his condemnation of the 
 old Puritanical spirit, which seemed to him alien from 
 the better spirit of the Church of England, as he 
 shaped her to his own imagination. The pilgrimage 
 to Hooker's grave with Tucker was among his youth- 
 ful indulgences; and he wrote, in 1817, standing by 
 it in a silent shower, that beautiful sonnet, which will 
 be found among his early poems. The editions ex- 
 tant of the works were quite unworthy of them, in- 
 accurate in the text, and inconvenient in the use ; 
 moreover, he had reason to believe, on better than 
 the common evidence, that they were, as to im- 
 portant parts, very corrupted. I have no doubt it 
 was a delight to him to be invited by the Delegates 
 of the Press, through Cardwell, one of them, to un- 
 dertake the office of Editor. 
 
 On Dec. 18, 1830, he writes to Dyson thus : — 
 
 " I heard from Cardwell the other day tliat. a new edition 
 of Hooker is in contemplation at the Clarendon, and he 
 wants me to undertake it ; I don't very well know what 
 such an undertaking impUes ; but he says it will be a mere 
 
 O 
 
194 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 reprint, he thinks, if I decline it : so I think of trying it, if 
 I can get you and Tom to help ; or rather I should like for 
 you, most venerable, to be the editor, and for Tom and me 
 to be under-strappers ; and if you will allow me, I will pro- 
 pose this to Cardwell. At any rate, I wish you would give 
 me your opinion as to what is wanted for a good edition of 
 Hooker, and then I shall be able to judge whether I can 
 decently undertake it. I am still in abeyance about the 
 Psalms, and waiting for a good opportunity of communi- 
 cating with the Archbishop, or rather, I should say, I shrink 
 from writing to him, because I feel sure that in liis extreme 
 caution he would damp my project at once. However, 
 I suppose I shall take courage some day. We are full just 
 now of political, or rather rural economy ; and emigration 
 seems the order of the day among us. I have got a little 
 scheme with regard to that, which I should like much to 
 have your opinion on. In short, there is no end of the 
 things (I have to talk over with you ; indeed, how should it 
 be otherwise in these times with two such great politicians. 
 I was much amused at Oxford to hear the old Liberals 
 talking rank Jacobitism thp other day. L L , I un- 
 derstand, wishes for a military government. And to con- 
 clude, be the constitution what it may, you are hereby 
 wished a merry Christmas and a happy New Year, and 
 may it not pass away without our exchanging visits. And 
 so we all rest your's and your Lady's very afifectlonates, 
 
 " The Kebles." 
 
 He wiStres again to Dyson on the i8th of January, 
 183I, very shortly : — 
 
 " Tlie purport of this is rather to ask you, don& fide, will 
 you help me about Hooker ? And if you won't, will yoa 
 
Edition of Hooker s Works. 105 
 
 give me a little hint or two, what one had best do ? You 
 see I have accepted Cardwell's proposal, thinking I could 
 not do worse than nothing, and he said the choice was 
 "between us two — me and nothing. The smallest donation, 
 in the way of advice, &c., will be thankfully received. 
 I must be ready with a proposal to lay before the Dele- 
 gates by the end of this month, when I go to Oxford to 
 preach ; verbum sat sapienti." 
 
 I do not know what answer Dyson had sent him 
 to the first of these two letters ; but it is clear from, 
 that which now follows, that to the second he had 
 sent one full and well considered. And it is satis- 
 factory to know that in the end both the haste and 
 the scruples of the Delegates were overcome, and 
 Keble was allowed to pursue his own course, and 
 produce an edition worthy of the subject-matter, 
 and of all the parties concerned in the publication. 
 
 "Feb. 10, 1831. 
 "My dear Dyson, 
 " Many thanks for your welcome letter of ' Advice to a 
 Middle-aged . Editor,' full of most useful hints, and many 
 more thanks for your kind offer of assistance. I drew up 
 a proposal which Cardwell laid before Mess'^ the Delegates 
 (a most disagreeable worti, for it puts one in mind of Paris, 
 Poland, Brussels, Ireland, and everything that's whiggish 
 and disagreeable), and being constructed in a great measure 
 from your hints and Tom's, it was for the most part ap- 
 proved ; but they are in a hurry to get out the book, some 
 varlet of a dissenting edition being now in possession of 
 the public ear, with notes about as apt for Hooker as 
 Voltaire's are for Pascal : for which reason they demur 
 
196 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 to the enquiry into the genuineness of the last three books, 
 which they think would take up too much time ; and this 
 I mind the less, as I am not sanguine in expecting to make 
 anything out on the subject. Moreover, whoever ventures 
 to question the said genuineness must be prepared to do 
 mortal battle with Henry Hallam, Esq., of Constitutiono- 
 Middle-Ageo celebrity; who I find fancies he has settled 
 the matter in one round sentence. And this I take to be 
 one reason why those cautious mortals decline the subject ; 
 though they say nothing about it. If one could make out 
 anything, it might come in an additional volume, with 
 a thorough good index ; which, as things are, is more than 
 they must expect. Now the drift of all this is, to tell you 
 how much you will help me if you will only put down any 
 historical matter which strikes you as useful to illustrate 
 any passage. I say 'historical,' because I think that is 
 what you will like best: but contributions in any other 
 kind will be most thankfully received. Tom has begun 
 an index to the Scripture quotations, and I am correcting 
 the text, and verifying quotations as far as I have the 
 means of doing here ; also dividing the whole into para- 
 graphs ; this Tom has done long ago ; and if we agree we 
 shall think ourselves correct. As to ' the Christian Letter 
 of certain English Protestants, with Hooker's MS. Notes,' 
 which you wrongfully detain from Tom, and about which 
 you keep such a determined Old , Bailey sort of silence in 
 your last epistle to me, I am disposed to tliink the best 
 way will be to embody the valuable part of the said notes 
 in our lower margin, as occasion may require. I quite 
 agree with you on the desirableness of a general view of 
 the Writers and Books against which Hooker had to -write 
 (and perhaps of those who preceded and immediately fol- 
 lowed him in the controversy, Whitgift, Bridges, Covel, 
 
Edition of Hooker' s Works. 197 
 
 Bancroft, &c.), but will you write it for us ? I much fear 
 it will be beyond our calibre. Well now, my dear Mrs. 
 Dyson, I think you must be perfectly satisfied with the 
 quantity of work we have assigned to that lazy Vicar of 
 yours. I am not without hopes that the mere anticipation 
 may serve as a saline draught to drive away his cold, and 
 clear his head ; but we shall be glad anyhow to know how 
 he is going on." 
 
 I perceive towards the close of the same letter 
 lie indicates in a playful yet determined virord his 
 opinion upon the holding a living on the term of 
 resigning it in favour of another — an opinion he had 
 probably derived from Bishop Wilson, a great au- 
 thority with him at all times,- — and I will insert it 
 in a parenthesis, though foreign to the present mat- 
 ter. He says, " I hear that Noel has been accept- 
 ing a living to hold ; please- to bite him well when 
 yeu write, there's a good Jerry." 
 
 From this time he was fairly engaged on the 
 work ; what assistance he received from Dyson from 
 time to time I am not able to state specifically, 
 though I do not doubt it was very valuable ; but it 
 is certain that from his brother, whose zeal in the 
 matter was equal to his own, he received much, and 
 important. But it was a work of years. The pub- 
 lication was not until 1836; and this could scarcely 
 be otherwise, considering the absolute necessity he 
 was under of frequent reference to public libraries, 
 and the difificulty he experienced in leaving home 
 for the purpose : this he never liked to do, and 
 
1 98 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 scarcely ever did, unless his brother, or some inti- 
 mate friend of his sister's, could take his place during- 
 his absence. 
 
 In the letter from which I have last extracted, he 
 makes a free and playful allusion to Mr. Hallam, who 
 had pronounced a clear opinion in favour of the 
 authenticity of the three last books as we have them. 
 It will be seen by Keble's Preface, that at last in 
 substance, though not professedly, he did not shrink 
 from "the mortal battle,'^ which he speaks of, with 
 that great authority. He was in possession of evi- 
 dence, in particular as to the sixth book, which 
 Mr. Hallam, it is clear, had never seen, and which 
 was really all but demonstrative. To this, indeed, 
 he yielded in later editions of his History. I must 
 refer to Keble's Preface for a full account of this evi- 
 dence, but this part of it may be shortly stated thus :: 
 — Hooker had sent the Sixth Book in manuscript 
 to Cranmer and Sandys for their criticisms ; they 
 made and returned them ; these shewed, both by 
 the catch -words prefixed to nearly all the notes, 
 and by their own tenor, that they were written upon 
 a text different in itself, and on a different subject 
 from the Sixth Book as we have it. But the con- 
 troversy, if so it may be called, furnishes an instance 
 how dangerous it is to rely in matters of this sort on 
 conclusions drawn from intrinsic evidence only. Mr. 
 Hallam says, "The intrinsic evidence arising from the 
 work itself, on which in this branch of criticism I ani' 
 
Edition of Hooker's Works. 199 
 
 apt chiefly to rely, seems altogether to repel every sus- 
 picion^" Keble, to the credit of his critical acumen 
 be it said, before he had seen the document to which 
 I refer, "had always suspected" that other papers, 
 which Hooker had left behind him, had been sub- 
 stituted for the genuine Sixth Book ; " seeing it is so 
 little to the purpose, the last fault with which one 
 should suspect anything of his to be chargeable." 
 
 It will be worth while to trace him in his progress 
 in this important work from his letters. 
 
 As early as July 6, 1831, writing to me from 
 Fairford, after describing the difficulty under which 
 he laboured as to leaving home, he communicates 
 to me the discovery of the document I allude to 
 above : — 
 
 "I have met with one thing in C.C.C. Library, which 
 has proved to be more interesting than I expected, viz. 
 some notes by Hooker's friends, Cranmer and Sandys, on 
 the MS. 6* Book of the E. Polity, which he had sent to 
 them to criticize. They are many of them merely verbal, 
 but even tliose have their interest, not merely as reliques, 
 but also from the sort of liglit they throw on the tempers of 
 the three friends, and the terms on which they mutually 
 were. But some few of them are full of matter and very 
 sensible, and they prove to demonstration, I think, that the 
 6*^ Book, as we have it, is by no means E.. H.'s ; at least, if 
 it be his, it is a mere collection from other papers, which 
 he may have left, substituted for the genuine 6* Book. This 
 I have always suspected, seeing it is so httle to the pur- 
 
 • Constitutional History, vol. 1. ch. iv. p. 237, 1st edit. 
 
200 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 pose, the last fault with which one should suspect anything 
 of his to be chargeable : and to my mind these papers en- 
 tirely prove it." 
 
 On Oct. 29, 1832, writing to Dyson, he says : — 
 
 « Did I tell you that Cotton (of Ch. Ch.) is collating the 
 Hooker MSS. in Dublin Coll., and pronounces them very 
 valuable ? Have you any friend in London who could help 
 me at the State Paper Office ? I think it possible there may 
 be some correspondence about the latter years of Q. Eliz., 
 which may throw light on the history of the book. Also 
 how am I to find out what became of Lord Conway's 
 Library, or Bp. Andrewes', or any other of the Libraries, 
 which Isaak Walton mentions as having contained copies 
 of the missing books. In consequence of Cotton's state- 
 ments, the Delegates have allowed an indefinite time to 
 go on with Hooker ; which is very convenient, as I have 
 only bits and snatches of time to employ on it" 
 
 In December, 1832, writing to Cornish, he says : — 
 
 "I don't seem able to tell you much of our old friends. 
 Our very old friend Dick Hooker grows more slowly than 
 one could have expected ; the fault whereof I am willing 
 to throw not so much on my own indolence as on Tom's 
 occupations, which hinder him from coming here, and 
 therefore hinder me from going to Oxford, and I am now 
 at a point where I cannot get on without libraries." 
 
 On Dec. 3, 1834, he writes to me from Fairford : — 
 
 " As for Hooker he plods on, rather slow than sure : we 
 are just now at the Athanasian Creed, i.e. not half through 
 the 2"'' volume. It would be pleasant work if one had the 
 
Edition of Hooker's Works. 201 
 
 command of libraries, but as I have been forced to do it 
 by fits and snatches, it is anything but satisfactory." 
 
 In January, 1835, writing to Cornish, he says : — 
 
 " My friend Dick H. gets on much more slowly than I 
 could wish. I am only as yet in the part about Baptism, in 
 Book v. ; and let me advise you, as a friend, not to under- 
 take editing Hooker, till you have read a good lot of the 
 Fathers." 
 
 In August, 183s, writing to Froude, he says : — 
 " As for myself I am now all through Hooker, except 
 about I a dozen references in some of the Opuscula, and 
 must begin forthwith to discuss the Prelim. Dissertation, 
 in which N. says I must give a view of Hooker's views. 
 But this will go terribly against the grain; and, indeed, 
 I sometimes feel as though I were utterly incapable of 
 it. Such is my feeling this very evening, owing in part, 
 I imagine, to the oppressive drought and heat of the day : 
 but I must set doggedly to work, if I can, to-morrows'. I 
 am more and more satisfied that Richard was in most 
 things a middle term between Laud and Cranmer, liut 
 nearer the former; and also that he was in a transition 
 state when he was taken from us ; and there is no saying 
 how much nearer he might have got to Laud, if he had 
 lived twenty years longer. His notion of Regal, or rather 
 State, power would rather have stood in the way, and so 
 perhaps would his dislike to anything approaching to Jus- 
 tification by inherent grace. But in the great point of the 
 Sacraments, as I conceive, he was almost or entirely with 
 us ; if such an expression be not ludicrously presumptuous." 
 
 In Sept. 1 83s, he writes from Oriel to Dyson :— 
 "I have been plodding on with Hooker, and have at- 
 
202 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 last, after a sort, finished the notes, and begun the Editor's^ 
 Preface, in which I am now got to the eighth Book, and 
 therefore shall soon, I hope, have finished the critical part 
 of it ; but I am doubting whether or not to attempt a theo- 
 logical part, i.e. a kind oi precis of Hooker's views on the 
 great subjects ; after the manner of those which the Bene- 
 dictine Editors, I believe, adopt in their edition of the 
 Fathers. Newman says I ought to add something of this 
 sort ; I doubt both my ability and my leisure, but one can 
 but try ; and it is a satisfaction to think, that if the trial 
 fails, it is but putting so much of the MS. into the fire,, 
 and the rest will do." 
 
 Finally, on March 17, 1836, he tells Dyson : — 
 
 " I have this day sent my last sheet of the Hooker Pre- 
 face to the press, i.e. the correction of it, so that nothing 
 remains but the index, which will take a few days lick- 
 ing into shape ; the matter of it is all ready : wish me joy 
 of this, Although I expect to be pelted with plenty of 
 hot water, for certain views which I have given in the 
 Preface." 
 
 I have thought it well to be thus minute as to 
 his progress in this labour, and the difficulties whici* 
 beset it. Its importance to the Church of England 
 can scarcely be over-estimated. All will agree, I 
 presume, in the advantage of having the text of 
 this great work diligently collated with the best edi- 
 tions, briefly and carefully annotated, with a verifi- 
 cation of the references, and made more conveniently 
 readable by the breaking it up into numbered para- 
 graphs and sections, with a running title of the chief 
 
Edition of Hooker's Works. 203, 
 
 topics. No Father of the English Church has now 
 had more justice done to him in all these respects 
 and no one, I believe, more needed it, none more 
 highly deserved it. 
 
 But it would have been discreditable to the Uni- 
 versity, if the Delegates, when they were reprinting 
 Hooker, had limited the Editor, as it will have been 
 seen v.'as at first proposed, either as to the extent 
 of his labours, or the time within which they were 
 to be accomplished. They made an excellent choice - 
 of their editor ; and although, it must be admitted,, 
 he tried their patience considerably, they made allow- 
 ance for his difficulties, and never withdrew their- 
 confidence. In a series of English Classics which 
 they are now printing, the first book of the "Eccle-- 
 siastical Polity" is rightly included, and I have had 
 the pleasure of reading the masterly Introduction 
 of the editor, Mr. Church : it seems clear from this 
 that the lapse of thirty years has brought to light 
 little, if any, new matter, and detected Keble in 
 no substantial error. His edition, the Clarendon 
 Edition, still remains, and probably will remain 
 the standard one ; and this is a distinction which 
 Oxford cannot lightly afford to lose in regard to 
 the works of her great son. 
 
 It has been seen how Keble speaks of his Preface ; 
 when one considers the difficulties under which he 
 wrote it, it is a really astonishing work ; and it shews 
 how much knowledge, and in how many various 
 
204 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble, 
 
 ways, he had not merely acquired, but assimilated 
 and made his own. It was not to be expected that 
 in one part of it he would please all parties in our 
 unhappily divided Church ; and it would be pre- 
 sumptuous in an ignorant person, as in these respects 
 I am, to pronounce a judgment on the controversies 
 he dealt with, or his account of the agents and move- 
 ments in it. But looking on it only as a narrative, 
 and as a piece of reasoning, I cannot suppress the 
 feeling of satisfaction I have as an old Scholar of 
 Corpus, that it fell to the lot of another Scholar 
 of the same House to do this act of justice to the 
 greatest name upon our list, and that he was en- 
 abled to do it so consummately. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 PAIGNTON. — POETRY PROFESSORSHIP, AND LEC- 
 TURES. — ASSIZE SERMON, 1 833. — THE TRACTS. — 
 DEATH OF MR. KEBLE. — 1 835. 
 
 T HAVE thought it better to set down in one 
 -*- place all that it seemed desirable for me to 
 state in regard to the Edition of Hooker's works, 
 and in so doing, I have necessarily departed from 
 the order of time in my general narrative ; .to this I 
 now return. 
 
 I am entirely indebted to the Memoir to which I 
 have so often referred, for my knowledge of the par- 
 ticulars of the incident which I am about first to 
 speak of, and I take the liberty of transcribing the 
 passage "- Mr. Moor says : — 
 
 "In the year 1831, when Mr. Keble was living with his 
 father at Fairford, the present Lord Bishop of Exeter of- 
 fered to him the valuable and important living of Paignton 
 in Devonshire, considering him even then to be ' the most 
 eminently good man in the Church,' as his Lordship has 
 
 - I may state here that this Memoir is not, I believe, printed sepa- 
 rately, but is included with other matters in a handsome volume pub- 
 lished by Mr. Savage at Winchester, entitled "The Birth-place, Home, 
 Churches, and other places connected with the Author of ' The Chris- 
 tian Year,' illustrated in Thirty-two Photographs." 2nd. Ed. 1867. 
 
2o6 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 kindly informed the writer of this Memoir; adding that 
 ' the conscientious scruple of the Patron, who had pur- 
 chased that presentation, and who felt doubtful of the 
 'propriety of his acquiring Church patronage by such pur- 
 chase,' made him feel it his ' duty to use the utmost cau- 
 tion in selecting a person ,to fill it.' " 
 
 Notliing could be more flattering than this ofifer, 
 but the circumstances I have already stated, of 
 which it is to be presumed the Bishop at the time 
 was not aware, of course made the acceptance of it 
 out of the question. In after life, when a warmer 
 climate than that of Hursley, and close vicinity to 
 the sea became necessary for Mrs. Keble's health, 
 and very useful for his own, a residence on the shores 
 of Torbay might have been very beneficial ; but it 
 is still impossible to regret that he could not accept 
 Paignton. 
 
 In the same year he was without any opposition 
 placed in the vacant chair of the Poetry Professorship. 
 This is usually held by two successive elections for 
 ten years, and when it was vacant in 1821, his friends 
 were very anxious that he should be elected, nor 
 was he indisposed to it ; but as soon as he heard 
 of the intention of the late Dean of St. Paul's to 
 become a candidate, he would not permit his claim 
 to be pressed. It would have been difficult to per- 
 suade him to be a candidate in any contested elec- 
 tion ; but Milman and he were on very friendly 
 terms, and Keble felt that his talents, acquirements. 
 
Paignton. — Poetry Professorship 207 
 
 -and distinction, entitled him to any honour of that 
 kind which' the University could confer. 
 
 Keble now was not without scruples as to his own 
 qualifications for the office, and the passage I am 
 about presently to cite from one of his letters seems 
 to shew that a chance expression of mine, favouring, 
 I fancy, his own disposition to undervalue himself, 
 may have contributed to create, or increase these 
 scruples. However they were wisely overcome. In 
 December, 1831, dating from Fairford, he says to 
 me : — 
 
 " I am not very particularly sanguine about this Profes- 
 sorship, to which my friends have been so kind as to nomi- 
 nate me ; I feel as if the Latin wouldn't come ; and what 
 is worse, I have not yet come to any resolution on the sub- 
 ject to lecture on ; if anything occurs to you, the smallest 
 donation will be thankfully received. I imagine I don't 
 begin ' till when I please in Lent Term.' " 
 
 It was perfectly well known when his predecessor's 
 term of office would expire, but it should seem that 
 Keble had thought so little of the succession, as to 
 be still at sea as to the subject on which he would 
 lecture, if elected. However he must have made up 
 his mind without much delay, as he delivered his 
 first lecture in February, 1832, and on the 13th of 
 that month, in the letter to which I have already 
 alluded, he gave me this account of his design for 
 the whole course : — 
 
 "I was at Oxford the beginning of this week 'reading 
 
2o8 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 in,' — it is uphill work to me, and you never said a much 
 truer thing than when you told Tom I was ten years too 
 old for the task. However, I must do my best now. My 
 notion is, to consider Poetry as a vent for overcharged feel- 
 ings, or a full imagination, and so account for the various 
 classes into which Poets naturally fall, by reference to the 
 various objects which are apt to fill and overpower the 
 mind, so as to require a sort of relief. Then there wUl 
 come in a grand distinction between what I call Primary 
 and Secondary Poets ; the first poetising for their own relief, 
 the second for any other reason. Then I shall ^aa-aviCe, 
 one after another, each of the great Ancients, whom in 
 my Royal Authority I think worthy of the name of a Pri- 
 mary Poet, and shew what class he belongs to, and what 
 sort of a person I take him to have been. From which 
 will arise certain conclusions as to the degree in which 
 the interest of poetry depends on the character of the 
 writer, as shewn in his works ; and, again, as to the rela- 
 tion between this art, and practical goodness, moral and 
 religious. In the whole afiair, I fMnk I have hit on the 
 truth, and I expect to interest myself; but there my ex- 
 pectations pretty nearly terminate ; and as to Latin, it will 
 be dyairrjTov, if I do not disgrace myself. However, I do 
 not like the notion of making it EngKsh, even if the Doc- 
 tors would allow it ; because of the moral certainty of a large 
 importation of trash, which ought not to be on the Univer- 
 sity account ; and also because I think Latin would suffer 
 more than Poetry would gain." 
 
 I venture here to remind my readers of the letter 
 to Froude of September, 1825, from which I have 
 made an extract, in which he speaks of " The Chris- 
 tian Year," and glancing at this Theory of Poetry, 
 
Poetry Professorship. 209 
 
 shews that it was not only then in his mind, but that, 
 in fact, that Collection of Poems had grown up under 
 its influence. 
 
 In May, 1832, writing to me from 'Fairford, he 
 says \ — 
 
 " My Lectures have hindered me sadly in my Hooker, 
 neither thoughts nor words will come neatly as I wish. 
 But I am more and more satisfied that my theory in itself, 
 as far as it goes, (for it is not so absurd as to pretend to 
 explain all phenomena,) is a good, and useful, and true one. 
 The point I am now upon is making out what people 
 mean when they talk of the Poetry of Painting, of Music, 
 of Sculpture, &c. ; if you know of any good book on the 
 subject, it will be a charity to mention it. But after all, I 
 believe the best way, especially in Latin, is to make the 
 most one can of some one or two popular examples.'' 
 
 Since I undertook the task I have in hand, I 
 have thought it right to refresh my memory as to 
 the Prcelectiones, and have read them through again 
 with attention. I must say, in the first place, that 
 I entirely retract the observation that he was ten 
 years too old when he was elected to the Professor- 
 ship ; he was not in my opinion a day too old. I 
 presume I must have been thinking principally of 
 the Latinity, and no doubt the ten years' disuse 
 added much to the difficulty of which he complains, 
 and the danger which he feared. I will not presume 
 to pass the judgment of a scholar on his Latinity, 
 but I may venture to say that while there is no af- 
 fectation of Ciceronianism, nay, while you sensibly 
 miss the inimitable rhythm and roundness of the 
 
2 lo Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 great Master's periods, Keble seems to me almost 
 always to have what is after all of the highest value, 
 a sufficient command of the instrument he is using. 
 The common failing of modern Latinists, those es- 
 pecially who covet most to be Ciceronians, is that 
 they trim their conceptions, and limit their thoughts 
 to suit their powers of expression ; they do not so 
 much write what they think in all its extent, as set 
 down what they can find apt clothing for in Cice- 
 ronian language; as if one should omit the opera- 
 tions of the artillery in describing a modern fight, be- 
 cause Cicero supplied no word for a cannon. Keble 
 never falls into this error ; he always says, and with 
 sufficient clearness too, what he wishes to say, and 
 never leaves anything unsaid from want of words 
 to express . it in. But, passing from the language to 
 the matter, the subject he chose demanded a full- 
 grown man for its exponent, one who could bring 
 forth "things new and old" from his storehouse, 
 and who without presumption might claim to speak 
 with authority. The ten years of interval between 
 the two Elections had been to him years of mental 
 enrichment, ripening, and consolidation ; yet had not 
 diminished, perhaps increased, his conscientious con- 
 sideration of what he might say, and the modesty 
 which was an inseparable part of his whole nature. 
 They had been years too of considerable progress 
 and activity generally in poetic and artistic studies ; 
 in this he had participated, and he had seen more 
 of nature, and studied her intensely with a true 
 
Poetry ProfessorsJiip, 2 1 r 
 
 ■poet's feeling. Moreover attentive readers will not 
 fail to perceive that all through his analyses of poems 
 -and his criticisms, and especially through the hor- 
 tatory parts of the Lectures, there run the golden 
 threads of a religious spirit ; never obtrusively, never 
 patchily manifested, but uniformly, and as it were 
 imperceptibly shedding a mellowness and glow of 
 -colour over the whole texture. Certainly he had 
 the feeling, which was the source of this, in 1821 
 equally as in 1831 ; but I think it came out with 
 more grace, consistence, and power, with the years- 
 added to his course. Such a man, especially one so 
 ■diffident of himself, would be able to say at the 
 latter age what he might perhaps have shrunk from 
 saying, or said with less authority at the former. 
 
 The late Professor, Mr. Arnold, with somewhat of 
 hereditary boldness, cast off the yoke of a foreign 
 language, and dened Keble's prophecy, which for 
 himself he might safely do ; and he came to the office 
 in a different state of the public mind, and under an 
 altered constitution of the University. 
 
 I may, however, freely express my hope that 
 his successors will revert to the ancient practice of 
 selecting a subject, and giving a course upon it, 
 which shall form an entire and complete work. It 
 seems to me to let down the office, and to be a 
 great temptation to clever and ready men, who may 
 shrink from sustained labour, and the mental effort 
 <i{ grasping all parts of a great subject, to make 
 the Terminal Lectures opportunities for delivering 
 
2 1 2 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 merely brilliant essays, which find their not inap- 
 propriate future in fashionable Serials. The Poetry 
 Professorship is a great office, and ought to exercise 
 a sensible influence on the national taste. Great 
 subjects will never be wanting, at least, we have 
 at present a long list of such unexhausted. Chaucer, 
 and the early English Poets, — Shakespere, and the 
 Elizabethan Dramatists, — Spenser, Milton, Dryden, 
 and Pope, — Wordsworth — occur at once. And if 
 our own poets failed, the great Italian and German 
 masters might be taken up. These, and such as 
 these, are noble subjects, which would tax the intel- 
 lect, the learning, and the industry of great minds. 
 Thoroughly to inform the English mind on these, 
 and to educate its taste in ■ regard to such models, 
 would be not merely to reflect credit on the Uni- 
 versity, but to confer wide and lasting benefit on 
 the nation. 
 
 Whether Keble could have done as Mr. Arnold 
 did, without permission of the governing body, and 
 if that were necessary, whether he would have ob- 
 tained it, I do not know ; but I do regret extremely 
 that the Lectures were not originally composed in 
 English; and it is a great gain that, as I presume, 
 all future Professors will follow Mr. Arnold's ex- 
 ample in this respect. We boast nationally of our 
 Scholarship, and there is no doubt for a Scholar 
 much pleasure in composing, and not a little in 
 reading. good modern Latin; but after all to write 
 in Latin is to write for readers comparatively so 
 
Poetry Professorship. 213 
 
 few, that when we do so, we may be said almost to 
 seal up our thoughts from the public. But the Pro- 
 fessor of Poetry at Oxford has a duty of a popular 
 character ; he has not indeed to make poets, or even 
 scholars, but to improve poetical taste, to regulate 
 critical judgment, to enlarge and systematize know- 
 ledge as to the great poems of the world, and all 
 this demands the freedom of a native language both 
 for the lecturer, the audience, and readers. Mr. 
 Gladstone has happily characterized the PrcBlectiones 
 in one point of view, when he calls the course a " re- 
 fined work," and he has truly said that it " criticises 
 the Homeric Poems in the spirit of a bard, setting 
 an early example, at least to England, of elevating 
 the tone of Homeric study ^" One regrets to think 
 that such a book on such a subject should not be 
 accessible, without difficulty as to the language, to 
 •every educated woman as well as man. 
 
 It may be said, Why not translate it "i a question 
 natural enough to be asked, before one has con- 
 .sidered the difficulty of making any Latin book 
 into an original, idiomatic English book, enhanced 
 in the present instance by the vast number of cita- 
 tions, of which translations would have to be made 
 ■or found. Yet the purpose was floating for a long 
 time in Keble's mind, and if any one could do 
 such a work successfully, it would be the author of 
 the original, as he might properly indulge in mo- 
 difications or alterations not allowable to a third 
 ^ Homer, vol. iii. p. 374. 
 
214 Memoir of the Rev. John Kebb. 
 
 person. More than once I believe I was myself 
 tempted by my fondness for the work, and my opi- 
 nion of its possible usefulness in an English dress„ 
 to offer my services ; he answered me thus on July S,. 
 1844:— 
 
 " I never thanked you for your partial pat on the back 
 touching the PralecUones. I have sometimes thought whe- 
 ther any kind of translation or adaptation might be useful^ 
 though of course no such vision ever crossed my mind as one 
 of Her Majesty's Puisne Judges engaged in such an opera- 
 tion. If it took no time, I should like to substitute modern 
 examples for the Greek and Latin.'' 
 
 This substitution might have been effected ; and 
 very usefully, where the example is used only to 
 illustrate some general position in the text ; but in 
 far the greater number, where the Greek or Latin 
 Poem is the special subject of remark, that and the 
 example are necessarily so wedded together, that 
 it would have been impracticable. However, the 
 notion was not wholly abandoned, and in March, 
 1847, in answer to some proposition from me, he 
 writes thus : — 
 
 " I am really sorry not to have thanked you sooner for 
 your kind thought about the Fralcctiones, but I would not 
 for a very great deal have your energies and scanty leisure 
 wasted on anything so very unworthy. If they are at all 
 likely to do any good in English, it must be, I think, by 
 some reform more radical than any translation ; and if I 
 were industrious enough ever to have a little leisure, I 
 should encourage a thought, whic'a has sometimes come 
 
Poetry Professorship. zi j 
 
 into my mind, of Anglicizing the substance of the poor 
 book in a kind of dialogues, which might be touched up 
 with a little scenery, and made semi-dramatic. But it 
 would take a good deal of time and trouble, especially as 
 I suppose modern examples must be substit\.ited in many 
 cases for the classical ones ; and then it will be matter of 
 many a weary chase to hunt out the fugitive glimmer of 
 a meaning, Avhich may or may not be lurking in the 
 folds of a long Latin sentence. Wliat a prose I am get- 
 ting into." 
 
 One cannot but regret that he never found time 
 to carry into effect this last idea, suggested to him 
 probably by Southey's Colloquies. It is easy to 
 see how the work would have lent itself to lively 
 discussion in dialogue. He was powerful in local 
 descriptions in prose and verse, and at this period 
 of his life he had seen a great deal of beautiful 
 country ; but even if he had confined himself to the 
 scenery at and about Hursley, with every nook and 
 alley of which he was familiar, he would have found 
 scenes enough for his purpose, which he would have 
 stamped thenceforward with indelible associations. 
 
 Will my readers forgive me if, upon a favourite 
 subject, I venture to add an extract from my answer 
 to his last letter, which I have found among my re- 
 turned letters : — 
 
 " If you can accomplish your design with the Lecture^ 
 it will be indeed excellent; and now you have surmised 
 such a thing, I shall not let you rest without putting it ia 
 
2 16 Memoir of the Rev. fohn. Kehle. 
 
 execution. But I think you will not only incur unnecessary 
 labour, but very much impair the general utility of the 
 book, and also interfere with its peculiar character, by 
 seeking for modern instances. How can you sponge out 
 Homer, Achilles, &c., without making it a new work, and 
 at the same time destroying the happy peculiarity which 
 your book would have of at once teaching a true and novel 
 theory of Poetry, and illustrating it from the Classic Poets. 
 Sprinkle here and there, if you will, modern examples, 
 without confining yourself to English poetry for them, but 
 make your present instances the staple; print the originals 
 with translations, which last I should without scruple adap 
 from the best I could find, altering wherever I liked, so as 
 to make them reflect the very matter, for which I had 
 selected the originals. And as the passages are not very 
 long, this would not be so troublesome as it might seem ; 
 and you would do them in your walks, and at all odd 
 tirnes. In this way your argument and stuff being already 
 provided, I think you would find the work not very labo- 
 rious, and full of interest. Your scheme of dialogue and 
 scenery is excellent ; it is long since I read Southe/s Col- 
 loquies, but I remember how the framing of the pictures 
 there interested me. Euge-macte. 
 " March t„ 1847." 
 
 It was not to be; singularly enough the subject 
 was renewed so late as January, 1866, when he 
 was at Bournemouth, by an offer made to him by 
 a gentleman who was a stranger to him. He con- 
 sulted me about it, and reminded me of what had 
 passed between us on the subject many years be- 
 fore, and asked if I still retained my former notion 
 
Poetry Professorship. 217 
 
 of undertaking it myself ; but the time for such things 
 with me had passed away. 
 
 No short analysis of the work, (and a very short 
 one only would be suitable here,) would give so true 
 an account in general of its plan, as that which I 
 have already cited from his own letter. 
 
 The peroration of the series so illustrates the spi- 
 rit of the whole, that I am tempted to give it, and 
 " done into English ;" though I fear this may prove 
 too clearly the justice of Keble's reluctance to en- 
 trust me as his translator. Something grandiose 
 must be allowed for in a peroration. 
 
 " This would I desire most earnestly to deliver and com- 
 mend to the thoughts of our young men, that it will be 
 well with the pursuit of Poetry so long only as her lovers 
 shall remember that she is a gift vouchsafed to man, to 
 minister as a specially honourable handmaid to true piety ; 
 so that they should serve' her, not in word, but in deed and 
 in truth, with all reverence, constancy, cliasteness of spirit. 
 On tlaese, indeed, will depend entirely the hope, which at 
 length we dare conceive for the future, that that grander and 
 loftier voice of Poetry, which now for several years hath 
 been heard among us, shall have good end and issue, 
 through the happy increase of those studies which are 
 peculiarly and properly termed Divine. 
 
 " May God, Best and Greatest, vouchsafe that if He shall 
 haply have ordained for us so great a blessing, it may not 
 in the very smallest particular fail, and be of none effect 
 through the fault of any one of us." 
 
 I have noticed in passing the interest which Keble 
 
21 8 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 took in public affairs, as they concerned the labour- 
 ing classes ; his faith, for so I must call it, as regarded 
 the Church, and his opinions in respect of the two- 
 parties which have divided her ever since the Re- 
 formation, have also appeared incidentally in the 
 course of my narrative. With him these interests 
 "were living realities : gentle as he was by nature, 
 and loving-hearted to individuals, he was very sen- 
 sitive in regard to them, and it was not in his na- 
 ture, nor according to his conscience, to be inactive 
 ■when he felt deeply. He was appointed by the 
 Vice-Chancellor to preach the Summer Assize Ser- 
 mon at Oxford in 1833 ; he was glad of the oppor- 
 tunity, and he published his sermon with the title 
 of National Apostasy, his text being the noble de- 
 claration of Samuel as to the course which he will 
 continue to pursue in regard to his countrymen, 
 when they insisted on renouncing their Theocracy, 
 and on being governed by a king, as the Gentiles 
 were. Among other things the measures then in 
 progress in regard to the Irish Protestant Church, 
 which had ended before the publication of the Ser- 
 mon in what I scarcely think he accurately termed 
 the sttppression of ten bishoprics, moved him very 
 deeply ; and his Sermon, though the language is 
 measured, and the recommendations, such as most 
 Churchmen would approve of, is evidently written 
 under deep though suppressed emotion of heart. 
 I may state while I am noticing this Sermon, that 
 
Assize Sermon, 1833. 219 
 
 in it he lays down as the ground on which he thinks 
 the events in Jewish history applicable to Christian 
 teaching, the principle which my readers will re- 
 member him to have stated in a letter I have before 
 extracted from. He says, "As regards reward and 
 punishment, God dealt formerly with the Jewish 
 people in a manner analogous to that in which He 
 deals now, not so much with Christian nations, as 
 vifith the souls of individual Christians." 
 
 We have long as a Nation passed by Keble's prin- 
 ciples in these matters, and I am not about uselessly 
 to re-agitate them, but I have made this particular 
 mention of the Sermon, because out of the same 
 feelings, and about the same time, arose that con- 
 certed and systematic course of action, of which the 
 first-fruits were the celebrated Tracts. Dr. Newman 
 «ays in his Apologia, that he has ever considered and 
 kept the day of the publication of the Sermon as the 
 ;^art of the religious movement of 1833. 
 
 I have prepared my readers not to expect in this- 
 :cmoir the history of that movement. But one who 
 light to know, has said in regard to it, that John 
 Iveble was its true and primary author, and I shall 
 therefore supply such personal and incidental men- 
 tion of it as my means enable me. 
 
 Writing to Dyson on the 26th of August, 1833, 
 \ory shortly after the preaching and publication of 
 tlie Sermon, he says : — 
 
 " If I had not hoped to see you so soon, I should have 
 
220 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 sent you, I think, what I now reserve for you, if you will 
 accept it, a sermon which I have ventured to preach and 
 publish ; and at the same time I should have asked you. 
 What think you of a kind of association (as quiet and un- 
 pretending as may be, if possible even without a name) for 
 the promotion of these two objects? first, the circulation of 
 primitive notions regarding the Apostolical Succession, &c. ; 
 and secondly the protection of the Prayer-book against pro.- 
 fane innovation. We have as yet only written round to 
 a very few intimate friends, Davison, Ogilvie, Tom, &c., 
 and as far as they have answered me yet, they seem to 
 think it may do good. To give you a notion of the kind 
 of thing, the first Tract we propose to print will be a Penny 
 account of the martyrdom of St. Ignatius, with extracts from 
 his Epistles. Pray do not blow on it as being all Ultra." 
 
 In the same month, and a few days earlier, v/riting 
 to his father's old friend, Mr. Richards, he says : — 
 
 " Some of my friends at Oxford, persons wortliy of much 
 confidence, are wishing for a kind of association, to circu- 
 late right notions on the Apostolical Succession, and also 
 for the defence of the Prayer-book against any sort of pro- 
 fane innovation, which seems too likely to be attempted. 
 Might we hope for your countenance and support if such 
 a thing should be set on foot ? Isaac Williams, I tliink, has 
 been written to, and can give you all particulars about it. 
 I cannot help hoping that there is still a good deal of 
 cordial Church feeUng about the country, which it is very 
 desirable to encourage in a quiet way, and to get people to 
 dwell on it a little more." 
 
 In October, 1833, writing to me, he says : — 
 "Dyson and I had a great deal of talk on a plan 
 
The Tracts. 221 
 
 which he may have mentioned to you, and which at any 
 rate I must, — the more boldly as you speak so kindly of the 
 tone and temper of the sermon I sent you. Considering 
 the helpless state of the Church in England, and the very 
 inadequate ideas entertained by most of her children, lay 
 and clerical, of her claims on their allegiance, certain inti- 
 mate friends of mine at Oxford have drawn up a paper or 
 two, of which I hope you will in a day or two receive cer- 
 tain copies through the Parson of Plymtree, who has pro- 
 mised to convey them so far. Now if you approve and 
 would like to assist us, give me one line to say so within 
 this fortnight ; and put down and send me at your leisure 
 any memoranda that may occur to you of the best and most 
 effectual way of proceeding, e.g. on what subjects tracts 
 may be usefully provided, either for the clergy or the laity, 
 what you hear said against us that you think deserves 
 notice, in the way either of amendment or justification, 
 whom you think we might serviceably apply to," &c. 
 
 Such was the original design of the small knot of 
 zealous Churchmen, who projected this celebrated 
 series of Tracts. 
 
 It is impossible to impute disloyalty, or a mis- 
 chievous intention concealed under the avowed de- 
 sign, or in the means adopted to promote it ; those 
 who will read in Dr. Newman's Apologia the names 
 of the parties concerned, will never, I am persuaded, 
 think that the real object or means were other than 
 those avowed. Names more free from question as 
 to their general honesty, and their unquestionable 
 loyalty to the Church of England, could scarcely be 
 found. Still both imprudence in the execution, and 
 
222 Memoir of the Rev. John Kehle. 
 
 - an. advance upon the original purpose are possible ; 
 matters to be considered hereafter. For myself, 1 
 had not, or fancied I had not, leisure at the time to 
 read many of the Tracts as they came out, nor have 
 I read them at any time since ; a predicament in 
 which I believe to stand a large number of those 
 who have borne the name of Tractarians, as well as 
 of those who have objected to them as mischievous. 
 From the letters I have seen, I find that the bishops 
 were not invited to sanction, or interfere in the move- 
 ment in the way of regulation ; good reasons may be 
 -assigned for this resolution, beyond the caution of 
 one individual, from which however I believe it pro- 
 -ceeded; although Keble, I think, would simply and 
 heartily have invoked the countenance and influence 
 of the Fathers of the Church ; from similar motives 
 a too cai'eful or rather a formal organization was 
 avoided, and this perhaps, under the circumstances, 
 was to be regretted ; when every move would be 
 so vigilantly watched, and when a false move might 
 be so prejudicial. 
 
 It is, in my opinion, mere prejudice to deny that 
 the cause of true religion, and of the Church of Eng- 
 land, reaped great advantages from the circulation of 
 the Tracts ; one must have been a quiet and attentive 
 observer of the state of the parochial clergy, and of 
 the English Church generally before they issued, to be 
 ■ a competent judge of this. Making every allowance 
 for exaggeration, the change for the better is great. 
 
The Tracts. 223 
 
 -and tQ be observed not so much in bright instances 
 here and there, as in the general tone of feehng and 
 conduct, in the higher appreciation of what the pro- 
 fession requires of its members, and the larger and 
 more distinct acknowledgment of duty. In these 
 respects I think it may be said, comparing the two 
 periods, that the rule has become the exception, the 
 <;xception the rule. But it will be equally prejudice, 
 iis it seems to me, to deny that incidentally some 
 evil flowed from them. I remember on occasion of 
 some early secessions to Rome, it was reported to 
 have been said by Dr. Pusey, that however much 
 he regretted it, he could not deny that some were 
 to be anticipated, — it was a sensible remark, if I 
 may be allowed to say so. The Tracts came at a 
 time when we were (speaking of the generality both 
 lay and clerical) wholly untrained in dogmatic the- 
 ology, wholly unversed in the questions which lay 
 between the Roman and the English branches of 
 Christ's Church. Elderly men will remember the 
 time, when for students to go into the controversy 
 with Rome was thought nearly superfluous, and for 
 clergymen to preach on it a mere waste of time. 
 The Tracts stirred this tranquil, perhaps stagnant, 
 lake ; and the stir of men's minds, especially among 
 the younger and more ardent, naturally produced 
 enquiry, under circumstances not at all favourable 
 to a just result; the imperfect, practice, and the 
 theory in some instarices not strictly logical or com- 
 
224 Memoir of tJie Rev. John Kehle. 
 
 plete of our Church, were arraigned without that 
 diffident reverence, or that due allowance for cir- 
 cumstances, which might have been reasonably ex- 
 pected ; and there was the crowning fallacy, " if not 
 England, then Rome ;" on behalf of which latter 
 every assumption was made. 
 
 I am far from saying that this explains every in- 
 stance of secession ; certainly, as at the Reformation 
 great men of unimpeachable holiness, vast learning, 
 and powerful intellect, remained with Rome, so now 
 some few of whom no less can be said went to her : 
 such is the character of the controversy in which 
 Bellarmine and Andrewes are opposed champions, 
 that this must in all time be expected. 
 
 But after all, and now that one can look back in 
 comparative calm on the movement, I believe that 
 its general effect on the Church, in its clergy as well 
 as laity, often to be seen operating on those who are 
 least conscious of it, and least willing to acknow- 
 ledge it, must be pronounced a subject for the deep- 
 est gratitude to its Great Head. 
 
 Keble's direct contributions to the Tracts were few ; 
 in a list of his writings to be seen in Mr. Savage's work, 
 p. 52, four Tracts only are set down as his, Nos. 4, 13, 
 40, 89", and I am not aware that to anything in either 
 could objection be made by any critic with ordinary 
 
 "= To these I find now on the best authority ought to be added, 
 Nos. 52, 54, 57, 60, four Sermons on iour Saints' Days. These on 
 the same authority were to have been parts of a course. 
 
The Tracts. 225 
 
 pretensions to Churchmanship. The series is now 
 unwisely and undeservedly consigned to such entire 
 oblivion, that it may be as well t9 state shortly the 
 subjects of these four. No. 4, is an argument in 
 the manner of Butler, Keble's favourite mode of rea- 
 soning, to shew that adherence to the Apostolical 
 Succession is the safest course. No. 13, is on the 
 Principle which regulated the Selection of the Sun- 
 day Lessons. I think he owed the original suggestion 
 of this to Miller, as I find him stating it in pne of his 
 letters, in which he speaks of a visit from Miller, and 
 the conversations they had had together. At the pre- 
 sent time the Lectionary of the Prayer-book is coming 
 it, is said under the revision of a Royal Commission, 
 and it may therefore not be wrong respectfully to urge 
 his caution ; that before fault is found with the pre- 
 sent selection, those who alter it " ought to be toler- 
 ably certain that they understand the principle on 
 which the Lessons in general were selected." It is 
 to be observed that he is speaking only of the Sun- 
 day Lessons ; and as to the First Lessons, his theory 
 is an application of that which I have mentioned be- 
 fore as a favourite one with him, " that the arrangers 
 desired to exhibit God's former dealings with His 
 chosen people collectively, and the return made by 
 them to God, in such manner as might best illustrate 
 His dealing with each individual chosen now to be 
 in His Church, and the snares and temptations most 
 apt to beset us as Christians." This was an argu- 
 ment which of course was applicable only to the 
 
 Q 
 
226 Memoir of the Rev. John Kelle. 
 
 First Lessons on Sundays ; but he fails not to assign 
 ingenious reasons for there being no selection for the 
 Second Lessons ; one of the advantages which he 
 finds in this is, "that it presents the Old and New- 
 Scriptures in endless variety of mutual combinations, 
 the more striking because they are unforeseen, and 
 in a certain sense casual." " The thought," he goes 
 on to say, "is happily expi'essed by Herbert, thus 
 addressing Holy Scripture : — • 
 
 " ' O that I knew how all thy lights combine 
 And the configurations of their glory : 
 Seeing not only how each verse doth shine 
 But all the constellations of the story.' " 
 
 He had referred to this stanza in the letter to which 
 I have just alluded. It will interest those who should 
 be induced to read this Tract, to collect from it in- 
 directly, how diffused and how earnest at the same 
 time was the attention which he gave to every part, 
 the most ordinary as well as the most rarely recur- 
 •ring, of his duty. 
 
 In the Tracts are several entitled "Richard Nel- 
 - son ;" these are dialogues, in which a mason by that 
 ■ name bears a principal part with the clergyman of 
 ill is parish on different religious questions then much 
 .igitated ; they are very pleasantly written, and af- 
 ford good specimens of the manner in which in- 
 formation on grave subjects may successfully be 
 conveyed to the middle classes of our people. The 
 subject of No. 40 is the marriage of Nelson's ne- 
 
The Tracts. 
 
 227 
 
 phew and godson, whose father is dead, to a young 
 woman who has not been baptized, and of course is 
 not a member of our Chui'ch. Nelson is much op- 
 posed to this as well as the clergyman; the argu- 
 ment, therefore, is not a contentious one, and to 
 the spirit of the present day it would seem to re- 
 late to a very old-world matter ; yet I will own it 
 has interested me in reading it over again, and it 
 can never be out of season, I suppose, to read what 
 tends to elevate and sanctify that which the Church 
 calls the state of Holy Matrimony. 
 
 One of the points in which Arnold and Keble 
 ■differed very widely was in their general estimation 
 of the Fathers. It was not unnatural that Arnold 
 should have a quick eye for occasional looseness in 
 .argument, and the absence of that critical judgment 
 in history which may almost be said to have only 
 come into being since the death of the latest on 
 the roll. But Arnold had not (indeed how should he 
 have acquired T) the extensive knowledge of them 
 which Keble had, and he was scarcely competent to 
 set a due estimate on the scriptural feeling, and 
 habit of reasoning for which they are remarkable, 
 or the weight of their direct, and perhaps even more 
 their indirect, testimony on the belief and practice 
 of the early Church. Keble had had time, which 
 Arnold with all his wonderful industry and quickness 
 of apprehension had not, for a general and very con- 
 siderate study of tljem ; it had been his duty as the 
 ■editor of Hooker to deepen that study, and while 
 
228 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 perhaps he might a little underrate the importance of 
 those defects on which Arnold insisted, he dwelt with 
 just admiration and. gratitude on their merits. His 
 was a nature, too, in this respect directly opposed 
 to Arnold's, and he loved the study, which Arnold 
 perhaps too much despised. 
 
 No. 89 was the result of this, an Essay on the 
 Mysticism attributed to the Early Fathers of the 
 Church, and I cannot but regret that it remains a 
 fragment only. 
 
 Such were Keble's direct contributions to the 
 Tracts, which I have thought it right to mention in 
 detail ; but it is not to be doubted that his interfer- 
 ence in regard to them went much further, not 
 merely in suggesting subjects, and reviewing the 
 essays of others, but in personal influence elsewhere 
 than in Oxford, in procuring contributions, and ex- 
 tending the circulation ; this, however, it will be 
 more in order to notice when I come to the period 
 of the abrupt termination of the series in 1841. 
 
 He seems to have been fully occupied between 
 home and Oxford during the year 1834, — with 
 Hooker, and his Lectures, and the other duties of 
 the Professorship ; he was also at this time busy with 
 the version of the Psalms, of which I delay to speak 
 until its completion. Towards the close of the year 
 it was evident that the object of his tender care for 
 so many years was about to be removed from him ; 
 his fathei"'s infirmities had compelled him to take to 
 his bed in November : — 
 
Death of Rev. J. Keble's Father. 229 
 
 " For a bed-ridden person of 89" (he writes to me on the 
 3rd of December) " he is I trust no very great sufferer ; he 
 has infirmities, which give him often a good deal of pain 
 and distress, but he sleeps a good dealj his appetite is 
 tolerable, and he seems to have no thought but that which 
 one would wish to be taken up with. EUsabeth has been 
 able to do much for him." 
 
 Elisabeth, writing to a friend, says : — 
 
 "We have every comfort in seeing, and you will have 
 the same in hearing, that the same peace of mind and trust 
 in God still attend him in the near approach of death, as 
 have been his comfort through life ; he sleeps a great deal, 
 and wakes to repeat prayers and psalms, and it seems to 
 us who stand by, that he is only uncomfortable when his 
 attention is called away from that happy world towards 
 which we trust he is approaching." 
 
 To Mr. Richards Keble writes : — 
 
 " Whether wandering (which is the case occasionally) or 
 collected, I- may almost say that what comes out of his lips 
 is one continued prayer." 
 
 The venerable patriarch fell asleep on the 24th of 
 January, 1835, closing his blameless life in peace, 
 with his family and faithful servants all around 
 him: — 
 
 " His memory for prayers and psalms," says Keble, " did 
 not desert him all through his illness, and it was remarkable 
 how he made out the prayer, when he could not exactly 
 remember it, by adding the words of some other prayer, 
 hardly ever becoming incoherent, and always in the same 
 clear silver voice." 
 
230 Memoir of the Rev. John Kehle. 
 
 As on all the preceding occasions, so on this, the 
 survivors accepted the bereavement with the cheerful 
 resignation of real Christians ; they found comfort in 
 all the circumstances of the illness, and the departure. 
 Yet on John Keble, and Elizabeth especially, the 
 blow was heavy ; to them their father had long been 
 the object of tenderest care ; their ardent love for him 
 (no distinction can be made between the two) had 
 a mixture in it of filial pride, and veneration for his 
 great qualities of head and heart ; the feeling natu- 
 rally descended to smaller matters, — John delights- 
 to speak of "his silver voice," "the clear and pecu- 
 liar tones of his voice," and how in advanced old age 
 the flock at Coin admired his manner still of per- 
 forming the duty ;' and now they two were bereft of 
 that object, and alone. 
 
 Yet as at his mother's death all his usual cheerful- 
 ness and readiness for duty were what the standers 
 by would have noticed. My readers will see no in- 
 consistency in this : an incident has come to my 
 knowledge since I spoke of his mother's death, which 
 is worth introducing here ; it was told me by one who 
 was present when it occurred. Keble returned, it 
 will be remembered, from his mother's death-bed to 
 the Schools at Oxford, and continued in the dis- 
 charge of his duty as Examining Master through the 
 week until the day of her funeral. A young man^ 
 had given in among his books some plays of Euri- 
 pides, including the Alcestis. Keble happened to- 
 
Alcestis. 
 
 231 
 
 be conducting his examination ; and whether inad- 
 vertently, or, as we sometimes ■ do, humouring the- 
 sorrow at his heart, had set him on at the part, (ver. 
 395 et seqg.) in which she dies ia the presence of 
 her husband Admetus, her son Eumelus, and his 
 sister. Much of the tenderness and pathos of the 
 passage arise from the wonderful simplicity of the 
 language, which it is almost impossible to reproduce 
 in a translation ; but I think my readers will be glad 
 to see the passages in a rendering, which my son. 
 Sir John Duke Coleridge, has been good enough to 
 supply me with ; — 
 
 Admetus, Alcestis, Chorus, Eumelus. 
 
 Admetus. Turn' thy face hither ; leave not thy children so. 
 Alcestis. Not with my will ; yet fare ye well, my babes. 
 Adm. Look, look upon them ! 
 
 Alc. I am nothing now. 
 Adm. What ? goest thou ?' 
 
 Alc. Farew^elh 
 
 Adm. Let me die toal 
 
 Chorus. Thy wife hath past away, she is no more. 
 
 EuM. Ah, for my fate ! To shades below, 
 My father, see my motlier go ! 
 She is no more beneath the sun. 
 Leaving me here my race to run, 
 An orphan boy, till life be done; 
 Ah, see her stiffening eyelids \ 
 Look at her nerveless hands ! 
 Hear me, oh hear, sweet mother, 
 The child who o'er thee stands. 
 
232 Memoir of the Rev. John KeUe. 
 
 I call to thee, my mother, yea, I call ; 
 A callow nestling on thy lips I fall. 
 Adm. She hears thee not, nor sees thee ; thus am I 
 
 And ye two smitten down with heaviest sorrow. 
 EuM. Ah, father ! I am left alone, 
 
 So young, forlorn of mother's care. 
 The harsh things of the world to bear 5 
 Thou, maiden, too my lot must share, 
 My sister ! for her love is gone. 
 Father ! all vain 
 The nuptial strain ; 
 In vain her bridegroom didst thou stand. 
 Hoping in vain that hand in hand, 
 With her thou might'st attain old age, 
 The bourne of earthly pilgrimage. 
 For, she first withering, in her swift decay 
 The whole house perished as she past away. 
 
 Keble, as was then usual, was standing ; he heard 
 the passage out with fixed attention, and unchanged 
 countenance, then dropped on his chair, and burying 
 his face in his hands on the table, remained for some 
 time silent, overcome with emotion. 
 
CHAPTER XL 
 
 COLN ST. ALDWYN. — ENGAGEMENT WITH MISS 
 CLARKE. — ACCEPTANCE OF HURSLEY VICARAGE. 
 — MARRIAGE, AND SETTLEMENT AT HURSLEY. — 
 VISITATION SERMON. — HU.RRELL FROUDE'S RE- 
 MAINS. — A. KNOX. — VERSION OF PSALMS. — CREWE- 
 lAN ORATION AND WORDSWORTH. — 1 839. 
 
 KEBLE and his sister had cast in their lot toge- 
 ther, and were now left with the world before 
 them. I do not know what the disposition of the 
 family property was, but no thought seems to have 
 Occurred to them of continuing at Fairford. One 
 discomfort there had been during all his long re- 
 sidence there, felt even while his father and mother 
 lived, and important enough to have decided him 
 now of itself against choosing it as his residence 
 when his choice was free ; the views of the Incum- 
 bent in Church matters were of the kind to which 
 he was very averse, and he felt that between him- 
 self and this gentleman there could be no cordial 
 co-operation. Most of us, I suppose, would feel such 
 a circumstance to be one which would mar the per- 
 fect enjoyment of any residence, however dehghtful 
 in itself, or endeared to us by circumstances ; with 
 one who felt so strongly on these points as he did, 
 it would be conclusive. 
 
234 Memoir of the Rev. John Kehle. 
 
 But with both the brother and sister Coin St. Ald- 
 wyn had always been the favourite residence ; it was 
 a great delight to them when the family moved, as- 
 they sometimes did, for a fortnight or three weeks to- 
 the Cottage Parsonage at Coin. I do not remember 
 ever to have seen the place, but the photographs, 
 three in number, devoted to it in Mr. Savage's work, 
 create a favourable impression of the church, and of 
 the river scenery. Keble delighted in walking on 
 the banks of rivers, and no features or incidents of 
 natural scenery does he describe in poetry more 
 faithfully and imaginatively than those with which' 
 rivers, and their banks, the flow of their waters, their 
 flowers, and their treesi abound. In the chapter 
 which these photographs illustrate are some cita- 
 tions from "The Christian Year" and the Lyra In- 
 nocentmm, which the writer seeks to trace to the 
 Coin. It is probable that ■ he does so correctly ; the 
 whole chapter is interesting. Keble had a special, 
 a sort of filial fondness for this river. Writing to 
 his brother in June, 1815, on his return from some 
 summer expedition, he says : — ' 
 
 " I got to Bibury about -| p. 6, and walked leisurely home, 
 and really some of the spots ■which I passed on our jolly 
 river Coin arc quite beautiful enough to recompence one for 
 a much longer walk.'' 
 
 I was not surprised to see him date from Coin St. 
 Aldwyn's soon after his fathers death. I had hoped 
 
Coin St. Aldzvyn. 235, 
 
 to meet him at Oxford on my first Circuit as Judge ; 
 he says : — • 
 
 " Very much disappointed am I that I cannot have the 
 pleasure of meeting you at Oxford this week. I fixed my 
 Lecture on purpose for last Tuesday, intending to stay all 
 the week, but I had quite forgotten that it was the first 
 week in Lent, when I could not well be absent from the- 
 parish ; so I was obliged to mount my horse and ride home 
 on Tuesday evening. After all, I imagine I should only 
 have had very scanty fits and snatches of you, and that I 
 shall be better off on the whole by considering this disap- 
 pointment as a good excuse for coming up to London and 
 spending a few days with you, and the Museum, some time 
 after the Circuit is over. At present I cannot look forward 
 with any great certainty to my own movements, for this 
 vicarage is not yet disposed of, and I do not like leaving 
 the people till they have some one to take care of them. 
 It will be with a heavy heart most likely when I do go 
 
 " I think it likely that I shall continue bobbing back- 
 wards and forwards between Oxford and this place till 
 after Easter, and then probably come to Oxford for the 
 whole Terra to look after my professional duties, and, as 
 I hope, put Hooker fairly out of hand. Eliz. by that 
 time, I dare say, will be reconciled to moving on Bisley 
 for a while." 
 
 They did not in fact leave the little vicarage 
 until June, and left it with much regret ; it was like 
 a second loss of their father to quit for ever the 
 home and the church, where the recollections ot 
 him from their earliest childhood were so deeply 
 impressed, where they might still seem to see his. 
 venerable countenance, and hear the clear tones of 
 
236 Memoir of the Rev. John Kelle. 
 
 his silver voice in the discharge of his duty. I need 
 not say that the day of their departure was a sad 
 one for the villagers ; far the greater number of them 
 had grown up under the care of the old man ; his 
 children had always identified themselves with him 
 in visiting and loving carefulness for the sick and 
 poor; these, and cordial assistance in the schools, 
 and latterly Keble's ministrations there, had endeared 
 them to the whole population. 
 
 They returned to Fairford to prepare for their 
 final departure, and about the same time two events 
 occurred, which determined the course of his whole 
 future life ; his engagement with Miss Charlotte 
 Clarke, and his acceptance of the Vicarage of Hursley, 
 again offered to him by Sir William Heathcote. The 
 engagement, indeed, had been made some years be- 
 fore. None could be more natural : they had known 
 each other well from childhood ; their parents were 
 old and intimate friends, and the marriage of the 
 sister of the one with the brother of the other must 
 have added to the familiarity of their intercourse. 
 • At first sight the only wonder would be that the 
 announcement and fulfilment should have been so 
 long delayed ; but, on the one hand, Mrs. Clarke, 
 a widow, was loath to part with her daughter, and 
 Keble, on the other, was very unwilling to leave his 
 father, and so from year to year the marriage was 
 delayed. 
 
 Perhaps it might have been expected that his very 
 intimate friends would have been let into his secret 
 
Engagement with Miss Clarke. 237 
 
 earlier. His communicationSj when at last they came, 
 to Cornish, to Dyson, and myself, were characteristic ; 
 and when I read them over now, I cannot help ic- 
 calling to mind his exquisite verses on the Fourth 
 Sunday in Lent : — 
 
 " But there's a sweeter flower than e'er 
 
 Blush'd on the rosy spray — • 
 A brighter star, a richer bloom 
 Than e'er did western heaven illume 
 
 At close of summer day. 
 
 " 'Tis Love, the last best gift of Heaven ; 
 
 Love, gentle, holy, pure ; 
 But tenderer than a dove's soft eye, 
 The searching sun, the open sky, 
 
 She never could endure." 
 
 To me he said, writing on the 4th of May : — 
 
 " As for me, I don't like talking of such reports so soon 
 after our great loss, but surely you have a right to know 
 all about me, and I will not affect to deny that I hope 
 they may prove true in time ; but I am sorry to say that 
 I cannot speak highly of the health of the dear person in 
 question, and that alone is a reason for not talking much 
 about things." 
 
 To Cornish, from Fairford on the T2th of June, he 
 writes in the same way : — 
 
 " I dare say Hubert has told you about me, and there- 
 fore I am not going to make a regular announcement, but 
 only to beg your blessing as yotmg people ought on such 
 an occasion ; but so shortly after my dear Father's death, 
 
238 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 I do not much love being forward in telling my friends 
 iibout things, and this I hope you will take as a receipt 
 in full for all apologies due from me on the score of un- 
 -friendly silence." 
 
 I give the letter to Dyson in full : — 
 
 " Fairford, 
 "June 12, 1835. 
 " My dear DysoN, 
 
 " I must allow, without any violent exertion of humility, 
 that Mrs. Dyson, this time, has some ground of complaint 
 in respect of the word ' soon.' And yet, considering ho.w 
 wonderfully quick the weeks and months move when once 
 folk are got 'to' our time of life, I hope she will make al- 
 lowances. But as touching the news, (if uncertain futurities 
 can be called news,) which Sir John communicated to you, 
 I am not going to be coy, nor to argue against the propriety 
 of such things, as a friend of mine did in Yorkshire some 
 years ago; but only to say that whereas it is a project of 
 some standing, I hope you will not think it any unkind- 
 ness that nothing was said to you before ; for surely, if any 
 one out of the family, you and Mrs. D. have a right to be 
 told of things ; but you see it was all so very uncertain and 
 ■contingent, and seemed somehow so made to depend on 
 what of course we did not like to think of, that one could 
 hardly say it had assumed the shape of a project; and 
 since my Father's departure the time has been full short 
 for talking of such things ; and I dare say you will agree 
 with me that few things not immoral are more disagreeable 
 than the hurry people now-a-days are generally in to get 
 out of the house of mourning. Well, now hoping I am 
 forgiven, I proceed witli tlie plans and projects. First 
 
Engagement with Miss Clarke. 239 
 
 •comes the melancholy reality that we are finally parted 
 from dear little Coin. 
 
 "I think Elisabeth has behaved very well considering; 
 but what with the hot weather, what with the packing up, 
 and what with the people coming in to say good-bye one 
 -after another, the two or three days last past have been 
 very trying to her, and I shall be rather glad to-morrow 
 evening to think of her safely landed at Bisley. Our 
 nephew has been with us all the time, and has been of the 
 greatest use to her as well as enjoyment. When she starts 
 West, I start East, having to visit Oxford for as long a spell 
 -as I can, to finish my Term's work, and break the back of 
 the 3"* vol. of R. H., which is now in the press. At Michael- 
 mas I have engaged at last to accept the Vicarage of Hurs- 
 ley, which Gilbert Heathcote is desirous of vacating. This 
 house will probably be let to Cornwall, who, as you may 
 remember, is our Doctor at Fairford, for a term of years. 
 He wishes for it, and I suppose there is no person at all 
 likely to seek it whom my Father, if we could ask him, 
 would more desire to have here. Dearest E. will spend 
 her time between me and Tom. My notion is Hursley in 
 the winter for her, and Bisley in the summer. The distance 
 is the great objection " 
 
 Mr. Heathcote's health had failed very seriously 
 at Hursley, and he was desirous of resigning the 
 living. Sir William again and immediately offered it 
 to Keble, who agreed to accept it, and it was ar- 
 ranged that he should come to it at the Michael- 
 mas following ; he was not in fact instituted until 
 -March 9, 1836. It is at least a remarkable circum- 
 stance, that Keble should have become the Incum- 
 
240 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 bent of Hursley after the circumstances which have 
 been stated ; he had obeyed the calls of a sacred 
 duty ; these were now satisfied, and the vacancy 
 was announced exactly at the time when, with the 
 prospect of marriage before him, he must have been 
 considering where he should settle down as a mar- 
 ried man. And I believe that even with the ob- 
 jection to which he alludes at the close of my last 
 extract from hfs letter to Dyson, (the distance from 
 Hursley to Bisley, not great in itself, but incon- 
 venient in days when there were no railways, to two 
 busy clergymen, with not overflowing means,) Hurs- 
 ley was, of all the incumbencies he had known of, the 
 one he would have most delighted to be placed in. 
 
 The marriage took place at Bisley on the loth 
 of October, 1835, and the newly-married couple 
 went to Southampton, where they remained, I be- 
 lieve, until they took possession of the parsonage 
 at Hursley. Southampton was convenient from its 
 vicinity, and it was thought favourable for Mrs. 
 Keble's health. Keble, it will be remembered, had 
 mentioned in his announcement to me the delicacy 
 of her health; this reason always for care, and too 
 frequently for anxiety, was in operation from the 
 very commencement of their married life, and con- 
 tinued until its close. It did not find him unpre- 
 pared. It is remarkable that so early as the year 
 1 816, when I had, I presume, mentioned in writing 
 to him the delicacy of health of the young lady 
 
Marriage, and Settlement at Hursley. 241 
 
 to whom I w^s engaged to be married, he wrote 
 thus in answer ; and had I shewn him his letter 
 in 1835, or indeed at any later and less romantic 
 period of his life, I feel sure he would have ad- 
 hered to every word in it, and applied it to his own 
 feelings : — 
 
 " One part of your letter did indeed make me very sorry, 
 it is that where you speak of Miss B.'s state of health. I 
 think I can enter into your feelings on that subject; I have 
 often thought why it is that illness attaches us more to peo- 
 ple whom we love, and though I cannot analyse it, I feel 
 that it is both a merciful and trying dispensation : merciful, 
 because it makes us more useful to them, and attracts us 
 towards another world ; trying, even to heart-breaking, be- 
 cause it gets stronger as hope gets less. But I would not 
 advise any man to encourage it who has not an habitual 
 sense of religion, and dependence upon God. I have often 
 thought how miserable it must have been to heathens to 
 lose a relation, and it must be still worse, methinks, to 
 heathenish Christians. But since we are Christians, I do 
 not think the chance, or even the moral certainty of ill 
 health should be considered as an objection to a marriage 
 well considered in other respects. 
 "JflM'i'g, 1816." 
 
 Keble had abundant opportunity of testing the 
 soundness of this opinion in his own married life. 
 As he seldom wrote a letter to me before his mar- 
 riage which did not contain some words about the 
 varying health of his parents, or sisters ; so during 
 
 R 
 
242 Memoir of the Rev. John Kehle. 
 
 his after life there was seldom one in which that of 
 his wife was not an important topic. Beside all 
 other comforts, one he had in a remarkable degree, 
 in the patience, good spirits, and energy of Mrs. 
 Keble ; she bore very trying and long sicknesses 
 not merely with cheerful resignation, but with bright 
 spirits, and when one would have thought her unfit 
 for anytliing but rest on her sofa, she would be up 
 and at wofk in or for the parish almost as if she had 
 been in strength and healtli. It may give some little 
 notion of her in the early pail of her married life, 
 if I extract parts of a letter from her to Elisabeth. 
 Keble," then at Bisley. It is dated from Hursley, 
 March 9, 1836 : — 
 
 " My dear Eliz"", 
 " Every now and then, when I propose to a gentleman 
 to write a little scrap to you, lie says he is going to send 
 you a whole letter; but as even poor Hooker's departure 
 doesn't seem to have made a gap in his occupations, I 
 dare say this intended letter will be some time before 
 it reaches Bisley, so I must say 6 words to you in this. 
 I dare say you are thinking as much about Oxford as 
 we are." 
 
 This was the period of the agitation which existed 
 there on the appointment of Dr. Hampden to the 
 Regius Professorship of Divinity ; — 
 
 "Some of the clergy about here seem to take a rea^ 
 interest in the subject, but those at Winton are not easily 
 moved ; at least, I suppose those who are much influenced 
 
Settlement at Hursley. 245 
 
 by the Bishop do not feel veiy sure of his concurrence ; but 
 perhaps, as Mr. Newman says, the example of Bath and 
 Bristol and other places may give them courage; and if 
 the Bishop knew that the Archbishop really wished for 
 such support, I should hope he would sanction it. John 
 is gone to meet him to-day, and I dare say he will have 
 some talk about it. 
 
 "I do not at all like the thoughts of letting him go 
 again by himself to Oxford, but I suppose it must be this 
 time ; and to comfort myself, I have' been thinking that 
 it would be very nice, (if nothing prevents,) to be there 
 -with him when the Prize time comes; he must be there 
 longer then ; and if you could get your visit to the Ed- 
 wards' over, and meet us at- Oxford, and come back with 
 ■va, I think it would do beautifully. I'm afraid the poor 
 Lecture is rather behindhand. There have been so many 
 things just lately to take his thoughts another way ; but 
 after the last, which was only just finished 'in time to be 
 J>reached, and yet turned out so well, I shall not be much 
 in a fidget. The chief vexation is that one can't help him 
 ■aX all. 
 
 " By the end of this month I think we shall begin to 
 Hook very pretty here. Even now there is a delicate tinge 
 of green coming over the underwood and hedges, as I see 
 when I take my walk up and down the south end of the 
 Terrace. All that we have done as yet is the walk under 
 -the trees, which Churcher was gravelling yesterday, and 
 which I hope will be in good order by the time you come. 
 We have plans in our head about making flower-beds, and 
 putting in sonie shrubs, but the ground is too wet to do 
 .anything. 
 
 " The daily service goes on very quietly and comfortably ; 
 (the number of persons continues about the same ; but ta 
 
244 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 have this daily sacrifice at all seems every day to be more 
 valuable. I shall be very glad for poor Mr. Newman to 
 have the comfort of John's being in Oxford. He seems 
 very much to need it ; and nobody, I suppose, can so en- 
 tirely sympathize with him both in his distress for the loss, 
 and also in the views and opinions which knit them all 
 three together. I can't help thinking, at least one doesn't 
 know, but that Mr. Froude may in some way or other be of 
 more service now, than if he had been kept here longer. 
 
 " Mr. Wilson seems to set in to his work with very good 
 heart, though Mr. Norris of Hackney tried to frighten him 
 by saying, ' Do you know what you are going to undertake 
 — daily services, &c. ?' He has been a good deal about 
 the parish, but he can't do much in the way of reading or 
 writing on account of his eyes. My best love to the chil- 
 dren, dear. I shall leave the, outside for another hand. 
 " Dear Elizabeth, 
 
 " Your affect's sister, C. K." 
 
 Then John, later in the day, has taken up the pen 
 and says : — 
 
 " Charlotte has just wakened me out of an afternoon's 
 nap to say I must write a line to you dearest Eliz,, and I 
 say I have nothing worth writing, but it may be good to 
 have her favourable account of herself confirmed, for she is 
 certainly better and stronger than she was. . . . 
 
 " I most wish my lecture was done, it makes me feel so 
 stupid. Your lovingest, J. K." 
 
 Let it not be supposed (I add in a parenthesis) 
 that my old friend Mr. Norris was averse from daily 
 .services, which from the time he had a Church of his 
 own he constantly celebrated. 
 
Settlement at Hursley. 245 
 
 It is not waste of time thus to make my readers 
 acquainted with the person whom Keble had chosen 
 for the partner of his life ; his was a nature which 
 delighted in sympathy and intimate communion ; 
 Jhe had chosen well. Mrs. Keble, without going out 
 of her subordinate place, and in spite of her delicate 
 Jiealth, was his very helpful and affectionate fellow- 
 worker, comforter, and support to the end of his 
 days. I need not point out the features of her cha- 
 racter in this picture so unconsciously drawn of her- 
 self by herself, but I will add a testimony to myself 
 from Dyson, who says, writing to me in October, 
 1836 :— 
 
 " At the end of August we paid a visit to Keble at 
 Hursley, where he has a pretty home and garden, and 
 a charming wife, not omitting a most excellent Squire; 
 so that our dear friend has many happy appliances about 
 him with only one great drawback, the delicate state of 
 his wife's health. I find he has advanced higher up the 
 hill of Ecclesiastical Orthodoxy than I have reached as 
 yet. I require more time, being of a sluggish constitu- 
 tion of mind and body. If I had the same purity and 
 singleness of spirit, and something of- the same depth of 
 thought and feeling, as he happily has, perhaps I should 
 strive more to keep up with him." 
 
 Again he says in February, 1837 : — 
 
 " Also I have a letter from J. Keble, who says his wife 
 Jias been attacked by the Influenza, which has thrown her 
 back much, bringing on her cough, &c. This I grieve to 
 
2-46 Memoir of the Rev. John Kehle. 
 
 hear, being anxious about her both on her account and his. 
 For bating her ill health, I do not know that our dear 
 friend could have been more happy in his choice in all 
 respects. And indeed this thorn in the side of ill-health 
 has little venom in it, from her sweetness of temper and 
 patience ; and may be wanting as a trial to make him 
 more perfect." 
 
 In the autumn of the year 1836, Keble was called 
 on (I suppose as the junior Incumbent) to preach 
 in Winchester Cathedral the Visitation Sermon, be- 
 fore Chancellor Dealtry and the clergy of the Arch- 
 deaconry ; his subject was " Primitive Tradition re- 
 cognised in Holy Scripture;" it was published "in. 
 deference to the wish" of his audience, and was after- 
 wards included in a volume of Academical and Oc- 
 casional Sermons, which he published at a later 
 period. But it had reached a third edition before 
 that, and 'he had then subjoined to it an Appendix, 
 and also a reprint of the seventy-eighth Tract for 
 the Times, being principally a Catena Patrum col- 
 lected as authority for the view he had taken. The 
 sermon seems to me to put the important matter 
 of the true and allowed authority of Tradition in 
 the right light, and to have been a very seasonable 
 contribution to our theological libraries. For him- 
 self he said to me : — 
 
 " I am glad you do not think I have gone too far in the • 
 view I have taken of Tradition. It appears to me such 
 plain hum-drum common sense, that I am sure no One would. 
 
Visitation Sermon^ 247 
 
 think of urging such a truism, if Romanism had not brought 
 it into discredit." 
 
 Cornish, through his brother Hubert, had inti- 
 mated a doubt as to the correctness of his view of 
 Tradition, in answer to which he says : — 
 
 " Hubert (who is a good fellow) says: I am to tell you 
 the meaning of Tradition,, and reconcile myself with my 
 Master, Hooker: to which I answer first he is not my 
 Master, as I have dared to differ from him widely in my 
 Preface^ and secondly, if you compare what he says in 
 B. i. c. 13, about TradSfion, with the place in B. v. about 
 the Tradition of the Cross, you will see that he does not 
 deny \ht principle, that jf you could make out such things 
 to be Traditions, you ought to receive them, but only the 
 fact that such things are Traditions. In the fact I am at 
 issue with him, and so (among others) is St.. Basil ; who 
 say's some of the chiefest and most universal rules of 
 Christian worship are known by Tradition only without 
 Scripture." 
 
 I make a further extract from the same letter, 
 which presents a pleasant, picture of the life at the 
 Vicarage at this time, and adds an interesting inci- 
 dent or two on other matters. Dr. Newman will ex- 
 cuse, I think, my introduction of what relates to him^ 
 The letter is dated Oct. 16, 1837 :— 
 
 " My wife, I am thankful to say, continues on the wliole- 
 a little stronger then she used to be at Cirencester ; but 
 the autumn makes itself felt a httle both by her and the 
 trees, gently as it is coming on. Elisabetli is with us, very 
 
248 Memoir of the Rev. John Kehle. 
 
 comfortably well, keeping up our spirits on the departure 
 of my brother and sister and their three daughters, after 
 a visit of a full month, the first they have ever paid us. 
 It answered remarkably well, all parties enjoying them- 
 selves; and Tom seeming quite set up after his trying 
 campaign with the Beggars and Guardians right hand and 
 left at Bisley. Newman came among us for a week when 
 we were all together: I wish you could meet him here 
 some day ; I think you will find that his demeanour answers 
 reasonably well to the impression made by his writings 
 and preachings. He has now in hand a work on Justifica- 
 tion, of which I have seen a very little ; those who know 
 more of it, say that it is as striking or more so than any 
 thing he has yet put out. While he was here we were 
 very busy correcting some sheets of the 'Remains' of dear 
 H. Froude,, which N. is, bringing out : if my partiality does 
 not deceive me, it will be a most original and interesting 
 book. His Journal has taught me things concerning him, 
 which I never suspected myself, as to the degree of self- 
 denial which he was practising when I was most intimate 
 with him. This encourages one to think that there may 
 be many such, whom one dreams not of. ... I sent New- 
 man what you said concerning Oxford Statutes, and found 
 that he had been turning his mind to the subject; he has 
 made a copy of the Oriel Statutes, and finds only two things 
 which are not in substance (he thinks) observed ; the Pro- 
 vost living with the Fellows, and the Fellows residing. 
 This excepts of course the great deviation common to all 
 the Catholic Foundations : the cessation, i.e. of Prayer for 
 the Founders ; of which the more I tliink of it, the more 
 I regret it, as a most lamentable concession to Ultra Protes- 
 tant fears and jealousies ; nor do I think we shall ever be 
 quite right till it is restored. In the meantime I am for 
 
Settlement at Htirslcy. 249 
 
 holding back as much as possible from all State inter- 
 ference; my notion of the Constitution (of course under 
 your correction) being that all such foundations ought only 
 to be controllable by Chancery, and that Parliament has 
 nothing to do with them." 
 
 A notion, I may subjoin, in which he was soon 
 to be somewhat rudely corrected ; he lived to see 
 the principle insisted on that the Universities and 
 their Colleges were National property, and the con- 
 sequence followed of coui'se that it was within the 
 competence of Parliament to regulate their Govern- 
 ment. And these principles established, I think he 
 would have admitted that on the whole they were re- 
 spectfully and moderately dealt with by the Oxford 
 University Act of 1854, and the Executive Commis- 
 sion appointed by it. He certainly had no reason to 
 cling with regret to the Government of the Hebdoma- 
 dal Board. It is easy to form an opinion as to what 
 he would have thought of the measure apparently 
 in contemplation at the time I write. On questions 
 of this kind especially his principles were uncom- 
 promising; if a measure offended against what he 
 thought honest, or violated what he thought sacred, 
 good motives in the framers he would not admit 
 as palliatives ; nor would he be comforted by an 
 opinion of mine that measures mischievous in their 
 logical consequences were never in the result so 
 mischievous, or beneficial measures so beneficial, as 
 
250 Memoir of the Rev. John Kehle. 
 
 had been foretold. So he writes playfully to me 
 at an earlier time : — 
 
 " Hurrell Froude and I took into our consideration your 
 opinion that ' there are good men of all parties,' and 
 agreed that it is a bad doctrine for these days; the time 
 being come in which, according to John Miller, ' scoundrels- 
 must be called scoundrels ;' and moreover we have stig- 
 matized the said opinion by the name of the Coleridge 
 Heresy. So hold it any longer at your peril." 
 
 I think it fair to set down these Avhich were in 
 truth formed opinions, and not random sayings • 
 but it would be most unfair, if one concluded from 
 them, written or spoken in the freedom of friendly 
 intercourse, that there was anything sour in his spirit,, 
 or harsh or narrow in his practice ; when you dis- 
 cussed any of these things with him, the discussion 
 was pretty sure to end, not indeed with any insin- 
 cere concession of what he thought right and true,, 
 but in consideration for individuals, and deprecia- 
 tion of himself 
 
 I give, from a letter to myself, dated Hursley,. 
 Oct. 23, 1838, an extract more considered, and not 
 unimportant. I had been reading Alexander Knox's 
 Remains, and been much struck by them, and men- 
 tioned them to him. He says in the course of a long 
 letter, (and I desire to draw attention to tlie close 
 of the extract) : — 
 
 " As touching Mr. Knox, whom you have been reading, 
 I admire him veiy much in some respects, and think he 
 
A lexander Knox. 2^1 
 
 did the world great service by his ' Treatise on the Eucha- 
 rist ;' but I cannot admit his symbolizing with Methodists 
 to be at all Catholic ; quite the contrary, for Catholic 
 means, ' according to the rule of the whole uncomipt 
 Church from the beginning ;' and Mr. Knox's admiration 
 of Wesley and Co., was founded first on his own private 
 personal experience, and then justified by his own private 
 personal interpretation of Church History. Surely it was 
 a great fallacy of his, that where he saw the good effect of 
 a thing, the thing itself is to be approved. You know how 
 it issued in the case of his friend Mr. Forster, that he 
 made out Mahometanism to be a kind of Divine dispensa- 
 tion : and in itself surely it is rather an arrogant position in 
 which Mr. K. delighted to imagine himself, as one on the top 
 of a high hill, seeing which way different schools tend — (the 
 school of Primitive Antiquity being but one among many,) 
 and passing judgment upon each how far it is right, and 
 how well it suited its time — himself superior to all, exercis- 
 ing a royal right of eclecticism over all. It does not seem 
 to me to accord very well with the notion of a faith ' once 
 for aU delivered to the saints.' I speak the more feelingly 
 because I know I was myself inclined to eclecticism at one- 
 time ; an4 if it had not been for my father and my brother, 
 wliere I should have been now, who can say ?" 
 
 If it should seem to any enthusiastic admirer of 
 Alexander Knox (and although I believe he is much 
 less read now than he deserves, there may be many 
 still,) that Keble speaks with too great freedom of 
 one so justly remarkable as he was, it should be re- 
 membered that he was writing to me whom he was 
 perfectly entitled to advise on such a subject, with 
 
252 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 the freedom and unreservedness of friendly corre- 
 spondence. It was therefore natural to pass by the 
 qualifications which he might have thought it right 
 to express under other circumstances. 
 
 My readers will have observed how~ Keble writes 
 respecting Hurrell Froude and his " Remains ;" his 
 death was a heavy blow to him, and no wonder ; 
 those who knew him, but were not on terms of in- 
 timacy, could not but regard mournfully the end of 
 one so accomplished, so gifted, so good, and so pure ; 
 a man of such remarkable promise, worn out in the 
 very prime of life by slow and wasting and long 
 hopeless disease. But it was much more than this 
 with Keble — they were more like elder and jrounger 
 brothers ; reverence in some sort sanctified Froude's 
 love for Keble, and moderated the sallies of his some- 
 what too quick and defiant temper, and imparted 
 a special diffidence to his opposition in their occa- 
 sional controversies with each other ; while a sort of 
 paternal fondness in Keble gave unusual tenderness 
 to his friendship for Froude, and exaggerated perhaps 
 his admiration for his undoubted gifts of head and 
 heart. And these were greater than mere acquaint- 
 ances would be aware of; for he did not present the 
 best aspects of himself to common observation. 
 
 I must say a word upon the book : it was published 
 in 1838 and 1839 in two Parts, and to each is prefixed 
 a well-considered and able preface, written by Keble ; 
 with the exception however as to the second of a few 
 
Httrrell Froude^ s "Remains." 253 
 
 formal lines at the close, but as to the first, of the 
 portion from p. ix. to p. xv. This last vindicates 
 Froude from the imputation of Romanism, in the 
 sense either of favouring the Roman Catholic Church, 
 or of being disloyal in any true sense to the Angli- 
 can, by citations from the "Remains" themselves. 
 These excepted parts are, as I now learn, by Dr. 
 Newman, who was the publisher of the work ; Keble, 
 however, shared largely in the preparation, and 
 insisted on partaking of the responsibility. I had 
 the misfortune of giving him pain, not only by dif- 
 fering from him on the subject ; but, owing to mis- 
 information, or misapprehension on my part, by what 
 turned out to be a fruitless and ill-timed interference 
 to prevent the publication. I need not now explain 
 how this arose; but I must confess that- my opinion 
 remains unchanged. It is a deeply interesting book, 
 not only perfectly harmless now, but capable of in- 
 structing and improving those who will read it 
 calmly and considerately ; still I think that it was 
 calculated at the time to throw unnecessary difficul- 
 ties in the way of the Movement ; that it tended to 
 prevent a fair consideration of what the movers were 
 attempting, to excite passion, and to encourage a 
 scoffing spirit against them. Some part of the anger 
 and bitterness with which the Ninetieth Tract was 
 afterwards received, may fairly be traced to the feel- 
 ing created, unjustly indeed, yet not unnaturally, by 
 the publication of the "Remains;" the one seemed 
 
254 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 to be the result of the other : and the sequence of 
 the two was held to shew a deliberate hostility 
 to the Anglican, and an undue preference of the 
 Roman Church. 
 
 I think I shall, do well before I quit this subject, 
 if I insert here an extract from a letter written to me 
 by Archdeacon Froude, in answer to one, in which 
 I had explained under what impressions I had ven- 
 tured to interfere with him as I had done in respect 
 to the publication. It is at once so kind, candid, and 
 just, and the subject as regards Hurrell Froude so 
 important, that it ought to see the light : — 
 
 " Dartington Parsonage, 
 March 26, 1838. 
 
 " My dear Sir John Coleridge, 
 " I can assure you with the most perfect sincerity, that 
 your observations on the late publication were received by 
 me as you meant they should be. That I have not ac- 
 knowledged them before, has arisen in great measure from 
 the fact of their not having reached nie till four days ago. 
 I had never seen the proof-sheets, nor had I known more 
 ■of the contents than what I picked up from the Jan>'. No. 
 -of the ' Brit. Critic' The manuscripts supplied by me were 
 the journal, and a small portion of the letters. To what 
 extent they would be used I was not at all aware. But 
 I gave my full consent to the publication of all or any 
 part, and therefore I know that the whole responsibility 
 rests with me. The preface, written either by Mr. Keble 
 or Mr. Newman, will best explain the views of the editors. 
 The warm affection they both felt for dear H., and their 
 
L etter of A rchdeacon Froude. 255 
 
 acquiescence in most of his views, may doubtless have led 
 them to overrate the fragments now given to the public. 
 
 " The journal I sent, as presenting a lively picture of 
 a mind daily struggling with a natural infirmity of temper. 
 The strict scrutiny to which he subjected all his thoughts 
 and actions, the unsparing severity of his self-examinations 
 and earnest endeavours to correct what he found amiss, 
 were certainly most interesting features in his character, 
 but possibly might have been better kept out of sight. 
 Of his opinions on theological points I really am not 
 <]^ualified to speali ; knowing as matters of history that 
 Tiiany of those who took a leading part in the Reformation 
 were actuated by very questionable principles, and that 
 others were carried away by the spirit of the times. to de- 
 stroy much that should have been spared, I daresay he 
 was often tempted to use stronger expressions on that 
 subject, than his real feelings would have warranted. A 
 departure from some of the practices of the early Chris- 
 tians observed by the Roman Church, and the neglect of 
 ordinances prescribed by our own ritual, I have often 
 heard him condemm in strong terms; but neither abroad 
 nor at home did I ever know him to be the apologist of 
 the Papal Church, much less hold it up to approbation, 
 •except for its zeal and unity. His professed aim was to 
 follow, as closely as authorities could guide him, the prac- 
 tice of the early Christian Church. In our own, Bishop 
 Bull and the Non-jurors were, I think, the patterns he 
 proposed to himself for everything that was noble and dis- 
 interested in temporal, and sound in doctrinal, matters : 
 but I feel I am quite unable to explain or defend the 
 notions he had foraied on these important subjects." 
 
 It was in May, 1839, that Keble published his 
 
256 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 metrical version of the Psalms ; he had prepared 
 this some time before, and it lay among his papers ; 
 until an intimation reached him that the Bishop of 
 Oxford (Dr. Bagot) WQuld, if it were published, license 
 it formally for use in his diocese. A sanction of 
 this sort he particularly desired ; he had determined 
 not to pubhsh it under his own name ; and now 
 having this encouragement from the Bishop, under 
 whom, in a certain sense, he considered himself to 
 be as an Oxford Professor, and being also more 
 directly related to the Bishop of Winchester as Vicar 
 of Hursley, he was desirous of the same sanction 
 from him also, and to be allowed to call the work 
 the "Winchester and Oxford Psalter.'' He accord- 
 ingly applied, and some delay occurring in the re- 
 ceipt of an answer, he became apprehensive that he 
 might have done what was wrong in making the ap- 
 plication. By his desire I wrote to the Bishop, my 
 old and intimate friend. I speak from recollection 
 now only ; but I think the delay might have been in 
 part occasioned by his disappointment at the execu- 
 tion of the work, and his consequent unwillingness 
 to connect himself with it so closely as he might 
 seem to do, if he formally licensed its use in his 
 diocese. He had, however, another ground ; for it 
 seemed to him, at least, very doubtful whether he 
 had any authority as diocesan to issue such a licence : 
 and he accordingly contented himself with leaving 
 Keble and any other incumbents in the diocese at 
 
" Oxford Psalter" 257 
 
 liberty to use it at their own discretion without his 
 inquiry or interference. 
 
 Keble was content with this, and tlie version was 
 published, with a dedication to the Bishop of Oxford. 
 
 Writing to me on May i, 1839, he says : — 
 
 " I do not the least wonder at the Bishop's or any one 
 else feeling disappointed at the execution of the work. 
 I am sure I should be so most exceedingly, if I could 
 come to it as a reader. The truth is, I really believe it 
 impossible, and intended to be so, for reasons which I 
 shall endeavour to explain in the Preface, if the book ever 
 comes out." 
 
 Accordingly in the Preface he says : — 
 
 " The Version was undertaken in the first . instance with 
 a serious apprehension, which has since grown into a full 
 conviction, that the thing attempted is, strictly speaking, 
 impossible^' 
 
 This Preface is well worth reading, in which he 
 gives the reasons at length for this assertion. Arch- 
 bishop Howley is said to have pronounced, with his 
 peculiar neatness of expression, a criticism at once 
 conclusive, and yet personally flattering: "Mr.Keble's 
 work has demonstrated the truth of his position." 
 
 The general substitution of hymns in the Church 
 service for metrical versions of the Psalms might 
 have been alone conclusive against the general in- 
 troduction of this version into our parish churches. 
 But I think in the remark which I have cited from 
 
258 Memoir of the Rev. Johft Keble. 
 
 Keble's letter a fallacy exists, which has operated 
 -unfairly on the general opinion as to the work ; he 
 ^ays, " I should have been exceedingly disappointed 
 myself if I could come to it as a reader" Now it 
 seems to me that a version of the Psalms should 
 never be considered as a book of poetry to be read, 
 "t)ut as a collection of hymns, or sacred songs to be 
 ^ung congregationally ; and after satisfaction as to 
 its faithfulness, the only question is whether it is 
 
 Tthat which lends itself to effective and harmonious 
 congregational singing. It must be familiar to all 
 
 ' of us how in some of our grandest oratorios we lose 
 
 -all sense of the tameness or poverty of the verse 
 where it fits itself well to noble music. He who 
 versifies the Psalms, therefore, for choral singing, 
 should have some musical science, and much musical 
 taste. Keble was not well qualified in these respects, 
 
 vnor am I competent to say how far he has succeeded. 
 But I have confidence in his version being faithful, 
 and I think I find it useful to refer to when I want 
 to extract the meaning of an expression in our autho- 
 rized versions, or to trace the sequence of the argu- 
 ment. I trust the version will not be omitted, though 
 
 I I suppose it may not be largely read, in the com- 
 
 ! plete collection of Keble's " Poetical Works," which 
 • is promised us. 
 
 This year it was Keble's turn as Poetry Professor 
 to deliver the Creweian Oration at tlie Oxford Com- 
 
 .^ memoration ; and among the select few on whom 
 
Creweian Oration. 259 
 
 it was proposed to confer honorary degrees was 
 William Wordsworth. The Poetry Professor and the 
 Public Orator deliver this Oration in alternate years, 
 but it is the duty of neither, as such, to present for 
 their degrees those distinguished persons on whom 
 they are to be conferred. I believe this office is 
 always performed by the Regius Professor of Civil 
 Law ; and certainly Keble did not present the Poet 
 -on the occasion in question ; as Dr. Wordsworth 
 (who, being a Cambridge man, may well be excused 
 for inaccuracy in such a matter at Oxford) states 
 in his life. But Keble would know of the intention 
 to confer the degree, and it would be easy enough 
 to introduce the incident into the speech which he 
 had to deliver; having the manuscript before me, 
 I see that the passage originally formed part of it. 
 He would gladly embrace the opportunity of pay- 
 ing him honour ; he had been for many years an 
 enthusiast in his admiration of the man and the 
 poet ; though I believe he was first introduced to 
 him personally at this Commemoration, by the Rev. 
 F. A. Faber, at whose rooms in Magdalen College 
 he met him by invitation. The Oration com- 
 mences with pointing out a close analogy between 
 the Church and the University as institutions, and 
 after tracing this out in several particulars, notices 
 a supposed and very important failure of the ana- 
 logy in respect ta the poorer classes, to whom the 
 ^ates of the latter are not practically open, nor in- 
 
26o Memoir of tJi.e Rev. John Kehle. 
 
 struction afforded. This failure the orator then pro- 
 ceeds to explain and neutralize so far as he is 
 able, and towards the close he is brought in very 
 natural course to the passage in question : Dr. 
 Wordsworth has printed it in the original. I am 
 tempted to add a poor but tolerably faithful trans- 
 lation : — 
 
 " On this also I might insist, that the University, and so 
 Letters themselves, cannot well be without that austere and 
 solid sweetness, with which youth well and wisely spent in 
 poverty is wont to flavour those who are submitted to its 
 training. But I judged, Gentlemen of the University, that 
 I should satisfy, and more than satisfy, what this topic de- 
 mands, if only I should recall to your recollection him, 
 (specially now as in this honourable circle which surrounds 
 me he is himself present,) who of all poets, and above all 
 has exhibited the manners, the pursuits, and the feelings, 
 religious and traditional, of the poor, — I will not say in 
 a favourable light merely, but in a light which glows with 
 the rays of heaven. To his poetry, therefore, tliey should, 
 I think, be now referred, who sincerely desire to under- 
 stand and feel that secret harmonious intimacy which ex- 
 ists between honourable Poverty, and the severer Muses, 
 sublime Philosophy, yea, even our most holy Religion." 
 
 Wordsworth was exceedingly gratified by this un- 
 expected tribute, which was received in the crowded 
 Theatre with hearty and general applause, according 
 well with the universal shout with which his name 
 was received, when announced by the Professor in 
 presenting him. 
 
Creweian Oration. 261 
 
 Dr. Wordsworth well remarks : — 
 
 " What a contrast was this to the reception which, a few 
 years before, Mr. Wordsworth had experienced from the 
 most celebrated critics of England, and from the literary 
 w&rld at large." 
 
 When the Prcelectioiies were concluded and pub- 
 lished, Keble sealed his testimony by dedicating 
 the volume to Wordsworth, with an inscription very 
 beautiful in itself, and peculiarly gratifying to the 
 Poet, as describing , very correctly what it had been 
 his object, as a Poet, to accomplish by his writings. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 1840. — LIBRARY OF THE FATHERS. — CHARLES MAR- 
 RIOTT.: — DR. ARNOLD. — TRACT 90, AND SUBSE- 
 QUENT PROCEEDINGS. 
 
 PERHAPS I ought to have mentioned earlier 
 an undertaking in which Keble began to be 
 engaged as early as 1838, and to which he attached 
 much importance, the Library of the Fathers. It 
 was this, I think, which first brought publicly into- 
 connection the three names which for a long time 
 thenceforward, through good report and evil report, 
 were intimately associated together, — those of Pusey, 
 Keble, and Newman ; two of them still survive, of 
 whom it is no part of my present duty, and might 
 be a breach of another, to say more than what is 
 inseparably connected with my memoir of the de- 
 ceased. All three were of the same College, and 
 though of different standings, had been brother Fel- 
 lows ; they were specially bound together by a com- 
 mon zeal for the Church of England, and a general 
 agreement of belief and opinions. 
 
 The undertaking just mentioned was one fr.uit of 
 this zeal and agreement ; they proposed to edit 
 translations of the whole or of selected works of 
 certain of the Fathers who had flourished previously 
 to the division of Christendom into East and West, 
 
Library of the Fathers, 263" 
 
 and also in certain cases of the original texts. Thejr 
 constituted themselves^ editors, and made themselves 
 responsible for the; selection of the works, and the - 
 faithfulness of the translations, and. it must be add- 
 ed, for the general management of the whole publi- 
 cation ; but they relied for the execution of the parts 
 on the help of a considerable number of gentlemen,, 
 whose names appeared either in the prospectus, or 
 in the course of the issue, many of them, men of 
 mark, and well known in both Universities. They- 
 themselves declined all pecuniary profit. 
 
 It is an impediment to the success of all such; 
 undertakings almost inseparable from them, the ob- 
 vious risk that what requires so many hands, and 
 so much time, will never be carried on to completion j>, 
 the Editors sought to extenuate tliis as much as 
 possible by allowing subscriptions for separate works,. 
 and by making^ these separate works of convenient 
 and inexpensive magnitude. But they could not 
 foresee, or provide against the calamity of losing the- 
 services of one of the most active and able of their 
 own number; or the troubles and differences which 
 were before long to divide the University, — and the- 
 Library still remains incomplete, — a disappointment 
 to tl»ose interested in possessing it ; yet it is still for ' 
 use very valuable to any one who wishes to read, or 
 consult, some of the most important of the Fathers,, 
 especially I mention Chrysostom and Augustine, in. 
 the course of his study of the Scriptures. It was. 
 scarcely to be expected that the translations in 
 
264 Memoir of the Rev. John Kelle. 
 
 general, though they might faithfully render the 
 opinions and arguments of Augustine and Chryso- 
 stom, should give us to the life the short, close, 
 epigrammatic manner of the former, or the luxuriant 
 eloquence of the latter. Keble was conscious of this ; 
 in a letter to me he says : — 
 
 " Have you looked into any of our volumes of the Fa- 
 thers ? I am just finishing the Revisal of S. Chrysostom 
 on the I'' Corinthians, which is hardish work. I fear we 
 are too literal, but it is the best extreme." 
 
 To which opinion I think all would subscribe. 
 
 The loss of one of their own number, to which I 
 have alluded, was supplied by theKi as well as they 
 were able by the accession of Charles Marriott, also 
 a Fellow of Oriel. I recall the name of a man justly 
 dear to many, and too early taken from us ; a man 
 of great learning and ability, but more remarkable 
 for his rare simplicity, zeal, and purity, of a charity 
 in one sense bounded only by his means, in another 
 and higher unbounded. He died in the prime of 
 life, still a Fellow. 
 
 Keble was greatly interested in this undertaking, 
 as might be supposed, but, judging only from the 
 initials affixed to the Prefaces, (some of whj|h I 
 may observe in passing have a considerable inde- 
 pendent value,) he does not appear to have taken 
 a very active part in it, compared with Mr. Newman, 
 so long as he remained one of the body ; or Dr. Pusey, 
 who laboured throughout with his accustomed in- 
 
Library of the Fathers. 26$ 
 
 dustry. His most important contribution, however, 
 has not yet appeared, a translation of S. Irenseus ; 
 which, I am told, is now being carried through the 
 press by Mr. Liddon. 
 
 In the course of 1839 Cornish had been making 
 a tour in different parts of England, and among 
 other friends had visited Arnold at Foxhow. He 
 must have written to Keble mentioning this. Keble 
 answers him on " Old Christmas Day, as the folks 
 call it," 1840: — 
 
 " I am glad of your account of Arnold, which quite agrees 
 with what I had been led to hope. His feelings seem much 
 mitigated towards his old friends; but I wish I could see 
 some fair sign of his taking a better view of great questions. 
 In consequence of your letter I wrote a line to him to-day, 
 with a proof leaf of a new Tract for the Times, in which it 
 came in somehow to find fault with some of his specula- 
 tions. How he will take it I don't know, but it seemed 
 to me kinder that I should let him know, than that he 
 should light upon it in print without notice. It does not 
 name him, nor is it, I hope, very severe." 
 
 On St. Mark's Day following he had to write 
 again to Cornish upon the death of his youngest 
 sister, an event which for particular reasons moved 
 him very tenderly ; in the course of his note he 
 says : — 
 
 " One surely feels more and more the privilege of being 
 allowed to remember one's departed friends in private 
 prayer, and secretly at the altar." 
 
266 Memoir of fze Rev. John Keble. 
 
 And at the close he adds : — 
 
 " I hawe had a very kind and comfortable Easter Letter 
 from Arnold." 
 
 I find in a letter from Arnold to me, written soon 
 after, the following passage : — 
 
 "I have heard from old Keble, to whom I could not 
 help writing in the hope of getting some . friendly commu- 
 nication with him once again. And his answer was such 
 as to make me heartily glad that I had written to him." 
 
 In the summer of this year Mrs. Keble, who had 
 again been very unwell, was so far recovered as to 
 be able to accompany him in a tour which he made 
 in North Wales ; it was made indeed in great mea- 
 sure to give her change of scene and sea air, her 
 great specific. He wrote to me from Barmouth, 
 where they were halting in a lodging on the level 
 of the sea, and with great convenience for boating, 
 the best of exercises for her. He was at the time 
 helping Mrs. Davison, then a widow, in pubhshing 
 the scattered opuscula of her deceased husband, and 
 he wrote to me for some help. This subject was 
 renewed in a letter which I received from him early 
 in December of the same year, from which I must 
 make some extracts on two or three different sub- 
 jects. Mrs. Keble had again become ill, and was 
 very slowly recovering when he wrote. After de- 
 scribing this illness, he goes on : — 
 
 " I was thinking of writing to you when your letter cam^ 
 
Arnold and keble. 2Gy 
 
 #'. 
 
 for Heathcote told me he had heard not a good account 
 of Mary." 
 
 She was his godchild, and he seldom failed to men-- 
 tion her with affectionate interest in his letters : — 
 
 " He did not say any thing of your wife being unwell. I 
 trust both are now better, and that you are yourself enabled 
 to nurse your winter cough a little. I expected to^ hear you 
 were at Oxford, from what John said, when I just hailed 
 him there ; and I very much regretted at the time that I 
 had not paid my visit one week later ; it would have beert 
 a great and pecnliar pleasure to walk about with you, and 
 gaze on some of the old places. I missed seeing M. Arnold, 
 (who was also his godchild,) but had a very kind note from 
 him, in answer to one that I sent. I live in hopes of coming 
 into full communication with Rugby agam one of these days. 
 As to dear old Dyson, I hear from him to-day an improved 
 account, both of himself and of his two wives. 
 
 " I am rather busy just now, having sent a bundle of 
 papers to the Tract Press on the Mysticism of the Fathers, 
 a subject on which I feel that I can only just make a be- 
 ginning; but if one can draw attention, I shall be satisfied. 
 Moreover, we are just putting the last hand to the volume- 
 of Davison's ' Remains.' (By-the-bye, I never thanked you 
 for your kindness in that matter.) I am just now puzzlings 
 myself how, in the quietest and best way, to counteract the 
 ill and false impression which the Bishop of Llandaff and 
 poor Lord Dudley have been spreading abroad concerning 
 his conversation. Mr. Markland kindly got Murray's leave 
 to reprint the articles from the Q. R., and he has also pro- 
 cured the suppression of the unworthy sentences in the new 
 Edition of Lord Dudley's Letters. ... I love to think of 
 your little Church, and it shall go hard, but I offer a smalt: 
 
268 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 trifle, (I fear very small,) to it, but I shall know better after 
 Christmas.'' 
 
 It is not material now to ascertain what " the un- 
 worthy sentences " were to which Keble refers, but 
 they undoubtedly had given Mrs. Davison much 
 pain, and he was very sensitive in regard to Davison. 
 There certainly was in Davison's manner and talk 
 something not exactly finical, yet over precise, and 
 constrained, something of a want of ease and natu- 
 ralness, which, in the freedom of private correspond- 
 ence, might provoke a sarcastic remark from Lord 
 Dudley ; and there was a difference moreover in the 
 natures of Davison and the Bishop, which might 
 make the latter, good-natured as he was, and cer- 
 tainly esteeming the former highly, somewhat less 
 careful than he might have been in regard to such 
 passages as Keble regretted. 
 
 My principal object, however, in printing these 
 extracts, was to give my readers a glimpse in pass- 
 ing of the real state of feeling which existed be- 
 tween my two dear friends ; both of whom in a true 
 sense I may call great men. 
 
 There is a very interesting letter from Arnold to 
 myself, printed in the second volume of his Life by 
 Dr. Stanley, which, in tracing the formation of his 
 opinions and character, shews what they were during 
 the greater part of his residence at Oxford ; then 
 and there it was that the intimate friendship be- 
 tween him and Keble commenced ; and this ex- 
 
A mold and Kehle. 2 69 
 
 plains what might seem at first a difficulty, how 
 they became so closely united. Radical differences 
 of opinion subsequently arising upon subjects which 
 each held to be of vital importance, had interrupted 
 their intimate intercourse, and that intercourse had 
 been too intimate, and their love for each other too 
 deep, to admit of their putting themselves on the 
 footing of mere friendly acquaintance. It was to 
 be expected, too, that as each advanced, (and each 
 certainly did advance,) farther and farther in his 
 own line, the difference between them would be- 
 come wider, and the condemnation, by each, of the 
 other's opinions, more intense. If Keble's language 
 respecting Arnold had been occasionally stronger 
 than that of Arnold respecting Keble, (and I really 
 do not think it was,) it would have been no more 
 than was to be expected ; for in his view the differ- 
 ence was on things sacred, his nature was very sen- 
 sitive, and his attention was not, like Arnold's, oc- 
 cupied on a variety of subjects, a circumstance of 
 course tending to diminish its intensity on any 
 one. But all the time in the hearts of both the 
 early love remained ineradicable ; these extracts are 
 little indications of that, of which I can speak be- 
 side from personal knowledge ; and I feel sure that 
 had it not pleased God to take one away in the 
 very prime of his life, they would have learned to 
 look through their differences, and to have set 
 against each other's supposed errors that greatness 
 
-2/0 Memoir of the Rev, ^ohn Keble. 
 
 of mind, goodness of intention, and loving-hearted- 
 ness which they could not but recognise in each 
 ■other ; each might have admitted a salutary dis- 
 trust of his own very strong opinions, and indulged 
 finally in what both so longed for, their old affec- 
 tion for and admiration of each other. If this be 
 a piece of what Keble and Froude called the Cole- 
 ridge Heresy, I hope it will be forgiven. 
 
 It appears in the course of these extracts that 
 Keble was not in 1840 at all contemplating what 
 was so soon to burst out at Oxford in respect of 
 the Tracts. He was evidently intending to finish 
 the essay which he had commenced in the 89th, 
 when the publication of the celebrated 90th brought 
 the whole series to an abrupt termination. The part 
 which Keble took as to the tract itself, and the pro- 
 ceedings which followed, make it unfitting for me, 
 however much I might wish it, wholly to pass over 
 these transactions in silence. 
 
 The Tract is dated " The Feast of the Conversion 
 of S. Paul, 1 841 ;" shortly after appeared what has 
 since been called the Letter of the Four Tutors 
 reflecting upon it, addressed to the Editor of the 
 Tracts for the Times, and requesting him to make 
 known the name of the writer of the Tract. Mr. 
 Newman answered them at once, and his letter pro- 
 fessed at least to remove one principal ground on 
 which the censure in their's was rested ; he also 
 commenced immediately the preparation of a Letter 
 
Tract 90. 271 
 
 to Dr. Jelf, in explanation and justification of the 
 Tract. But both of these measures might for any- 
 immediate purpose have been spared, so rapid were 
 the proceedings of the Hebdomadal Board. The 
 Letter of the Tutors was published, I believe, on 
 a Moii'day ; it was laid before the Board, with the 
 Tract, on Wednesday ; a censure was agreed to on 
 the Friday, and on the following Monday in form 
 pronounced and published. In the meantime Ke- 
 tle had communicated to the Vice-Chancellor that 
 lie was responsible for the Tracf^ having seen it in 
 type, agreed to it, and desired it to be published. 
 Dr. Pusey had written to the same effect. Mr. New- 
 man had applied for a delay of twelve hours, that 
 lie might complete the defence he was preparing in 
 his Letter to Dr. Jelf ; which in point of fact issued 
 from the press on the Tuesday, the very day after 
 the publication of the censure. 
 
 These are the facts relating to the Tutors' Letter, 
 and the censure of the Hebdomadal Board ; but it 
 will be convenient for the right understanding of 
 their cliaracter, and the part which Keble took, if 
 at the cost of anticipating events I add a few more 
 particulars. Keble, as I have said, had at once, and 
 before the censure was determined on, communicated 
 to the Vice-Chancellor, that he held himself to be 
 a sharer in the responsibility for publishing the 
 Tract; and he was by no means satisfied that the 
 whole blame, whether deserved or not, should rest 
 
2/2 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 on Mr. Newman's shoulders. He accordingly pre- 
 pared and sent to me a letter, with a request which 
 it may be as well to give in his own words : — 
 
 " HURSLEY, 
 
 E. Tuesday, 1841. 
 
 " I AM going to make a request, quite depending on 
 your declining it, if it is unpleasant to you, with or with- 
 out giving any reason. It is that you will let your name 
 be inserted in the blank of the title-page of the pamphlet 
 whereof I send you a proof. You will see that it is not to 
 be published, but only printed, and some copies sent to 
 
 those whom it is most supposed to concern You see 
 
 I am a good deal concerned in this matter, and have all 
 along felt as if I was 'doing wrong in not taking my share 
 of the annoyance ; and I thought if one could calmly put 
 one's case before Archdeacons, and those sort of people, 
 which this mode of printing without publishing enables 
 one to do, some might be less likely to commit themselves- 
 to what they would be sony for by and by." 
 
 I did not agree in all respects with the course 
 which had been pursued ; nor indeed had I know- 
 ledge enough of the whole series of the Tracts to 
 pronounce an opinion upon them. But I did not 
 think either of these circumstances sufficient to war- 
 rant me in refusing Keble's request ; the granting 
 such a request does not seem to me to import en- 
 tire assent to all which the letter may contain. Ac- 
 cordingly, the Letter was printed addressed to my- 
 self, and although not published until 1865, or 1866, 
 it was largely distributed in the course of the con- 
 
Tract 90. 273 
 
 flicts which disturbed the University in the three or 
 four years immediately following the printing. 
 
 After stating as one motive for writing it, the per- 
 sonal one, "that he is himself responsible, as far as 
 any one besides the actual writer can be, for the 
 Tract on which so severe a condemnation has lately 
 been pronounced by the Heads of Houses at Ox- 
 ford, having seen it in proof and strongly recom- 
 mended its publication," Keble goes on to men- 
 tion a few instances, as examples only, of the need 
 there was for some explanation of expressions in 
 certain of the Articles ; and then in the two follow- 
 ing paragraphs he states what he took to be the 
 object and justification of the Tract : — 
 
 " On all these and similar points explanations had been 
 given in various works, and it seemed desirable to collect 
 them in one as a kind of manual to assist in what was be- 
 lieved to be the true legitimate catholic exposition of the 
 Articles, whereby the scruples which were known to exist, 
 and other similar ones, which may be expected to arise 
 from time to time, in the interpretation of them as of other 
 formularies, might be removed, or allayed, and our adlie- 
 rence to primitive antiquity, so far, thoroughly reconciled 
 with our allegiance to the Anglican Church. 
 
 " Looking in another direction, one seemed to perceive 
 an additional call for some brief and popular treatise to 
 the same effect. From various quarters the cry of insin- 
 cerity has been of late more and more loudly raised against 
 those, who, subscribing these Articles, professed uncom- 
 promising reverence for the Ancient Church; and it was 
 
 T 
 
274 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 •supposed neither unreasonable nor undiaritable to put 
 within the reach of persons who might find something 
 plausible in such an outcry, the true account of the several 
 ■points of detail, which at first sight would naturally tell in 
 .its favour." 
 
 The whole Idtter is carefully and ably written, 
 
 -very temperate in language, and charitable in spirit, 
 
 .its argument more easily brushed away with a con- 
 
 "temptuous word, than answered point by point. It 
 
 tvas, I believe, pretty largely ciixulated, though with 
 
 little immediate success ; three or four years, dreary 
 
 years as regarded Oxford, of repeated conflicts en- 
 
 -isaed, in which those whom, for want of a better 
 
 .aiame, I call the High Church Party, fared but ill 
 
 -against the bitter hostility and concentrated vigour 
 
 ■'xof their opponents. Among other fields, on which 
 
 ^he battle was fought, was the Poetry Professorship, 
 
 €he chair of which, in 1841, Keble ceased to fill, and 
 
 was extremely anxious that his friend the late Isaac 
 
 "Williams should succeed to it. In more peaceful 
 
 4imes it would have seemed a matter of course to 
 
 elect him, at least as against his successful opponent ; 
 
 :' but he was known or believed to have contributed to 
 
 ~the Tracts, and the prejudice created by this circum- 
 
 -stance prevailed. At length the contest was in some 
 
 - sort brought to a head by the announcement of an 
 
 intention on the part of the Hebdomadal Board to 
 
 submit to Convocation a new test as to the XXXIX 
 
 Articles, in the form of a declaration to be made 
 
Tract 90. 275 
 
 before subscription, of the sense in which the sub- 
 scriber was about to make it ; strange to say this 
 was to be the sense in which he should believe 
 them to have been originally published, and to be 
 now proposed ; the identity of the two being, I sup- 
 pose, in all cases assumed. Upon this issue the 
 numbers on either side were preparing to be mus- 
 tered ; and whether the objections appeai'ed on con- 
 sideration to be too many, and too serious, or the 
 prospects of success too uncertain, this was sud- 
 denly withdrawn ; and not- long afterward, with only 
 eight days' notice, a statute was propounded to Con- 
 vocation in substance, if not in terms, the same as 
 the Censure of 1841, including however the defenders 
 as well as the authors of Tract 90. An eye-witness 
 las described to me the scene which the Theatre dis- 
 jplayed, where, by reason of the numbers .assembled, 
 the Convocation was held, when the sense of the 
 House was ±0 be taken. The great area and the gal- 
 lery were crowded, those who filled them much ex- 
 icited, yet all in suspense ; for a rumour had spread 
 abroad that the Proctors might perhaps intercede by 
 a veto ; but few, if any, knew what their intention really 
 was. The Placetne vobis was at length put, and then 
 in a still silence which at once pervaded the whole as- 
 sembly these two officers rose from their seats, and the 
 Senior declared Nobis Procuratoribus nan placet. And 
 so the test fell ; the Proctors, who had wisely exer- 
 cised their prerogative power, quitted office in a few 
 
276 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 weeks, and the measure might have been renewed ; 
 but counsels more wise and perhaps more generous 
 prevailed ; and happily it was heard of no more. 
 
 This narrative of the leading facts, as relating to 
 Keble, has run to greater length than I anticipated, 
 but it will still be proper to subjoin one or two 
 general remarks. It was Mr. Benson, who had 
 preached and afterwards published some able ser- 
 mons on the controversy, in the Temple Church, 
 who gave the authors and favourers of the Tracts 
 the perfectly inoffensive, name of Tractarians. In 
 the sense of entire agreement with them I never 
 was a Tractarian ; but I have already said how 
 much .upon the whole I think we owe to them ; 
 what I now proceed to say will be found, I hope, if 
 not entirely agreeable to either party, yet not par- 
 tial, nor such as ought justly to give offence. 
 
 There is no evidence of indirect motive, or want 
 of perfect honesty of purpose, in either party in the 
 commencement of the dispute. From the beginning 
 to the end the Editors seem to me to have been 
 actuated by the purest principles ; they were la- 
 bouring, as they believed, in support of the Church 
 to which they belonged ; they sought to elevate and 
 purify the principles and practices of her children, 
 clerical and lay ; of course according to their belief 
 of what those, rightly understood, were and should 
 be, — but still in perfect loyalty to her. But this 
 necessarily called on them to pursue a course which 
 
Tract 90. 
 
 277 
 
 must wound the honest and sound convictions of 
 many, and the strong prejudices of more, and which 
 must condemn the indefensible habits and practices 
 of not a few ; they were therefore bound to ex- 
 ercise in an especial degree the virtue of Christian 
 prudence, if only as a necessary condition of suc- 
 cess. I own I think that the 90th Tract, (to go no 
 farther,) failed in this respect ; and that what en- 
 sued upon it might to some extent have been fore- 
 seen. It is true that there is much justice and much 
 reasoning not easily answered in the defences and 
 explanations which were then and have been more 
 recently put forth in its behalf; but it must be re- 
 membered that it came after a number of essays, 
 some at least, probably not a few, of which had 
 tended to give offence and excite' suspicion. And it 
 is strange that it should have been apparently for- 
 gotten that the feeling which it was likely to rouse, 
 was just that of which the English mind is most 
 acutely susceptible, and under which, when excited, 
 it is most indiscriminate and bitter. It is true that 
 it is a prejudice, and for Anglicans especially the 
 silliest and most suicidal prejudice, to confound the 
 Ancient Church with the Roman Catholic ; Keble 
 read the Tract, as it was written, with other lights, 
 and after a long education of the mind to discri- 
 minate between the two ; but it was not to be pub- 
 lished for such as he ; and when it came before pre- 
 judiced or careless minds, it was calculated to create 
 the impression that after all the object of the writer 
 
278 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 was to lead men unawares to Romanism ; and they 
 who thought this would naturally think him dis- 
 honest ; while men neither prejudiced nor careless- 
 might fairly object to a publication which they be- 
 lieved to have that tendency, though, strictly speak- 
 ing, not by his intention. It is not of course for me 
 to say how it might have been Written, and when 
 I consider from what a clear thinker and perfect 
 master of language it proceeded, I do not acquit 
 myself of presumption in venturing to express my 
 opinion that, with proper guards and limitations, 
 carefully and avowedly set forth, the legitimate end. 
 might have been gained, a useful element imported 
 into our theology, and the great offence which it 
 gave avoided. If this were impossible, the serious 
 question arises, should the Tract ever have been 
 issued } 
 
 To this extent, then, the Editors seem to me ta 
 have been blameable ; they had made what lawyers 
 would call at least a prim& facie case against them- 
 selves ; but were they treated properly ? that is, with 
 strict justice ; even if a tender consideration was not 
 to be had for them ? 
 
 I consider the Letter of the Four Tutors as of no- 
 other weight than as the accusation ; or, to speak 
 again in the language of a lawyer, the indictment- 
 preferred by four individuals, acting unofficially, but 
 holding such offices in their Colleges as justified 
 their interference. The Hebdomadal Board was sub- 
 stantially a Court 'before which this indictment was- 
 
Tract 90. 279-'- 
 
 brought for trial. We all know to what any persottr 
 accused before any judge is entitled ; to all this the- 
 Editors were of course entitled,. Here,, when the Let- 
 ter and the Tract were laid before the Board, it had 
 both the charge and the evidence offered in support 
 of it, and no more. It may be taken that it was: 
 not the usual course in such a case to summon the: 
 party, or even to give him any notice of what was im- 
 pending, and therefore, however strange such a prac- 
 tice may be, it cannot fairly be said that any espe— 
 Hal unfairness: is to be complained of for the want 
 of these. But the- Board knew and were indeed di- 
 rectly informed that three individuals, among the- 
 most eminent in the University, and most blcime- 
 less in character, were substantially the persons ta- 
 be affected by their decree;, nor could the Board- 
 be ignorant how heavy was the blow which it pr£>- 
 posed to strike by its sentence. The barest jus- 
 tice therefore required, that if any one of them de- 
 sired to be heard in explanation or mitigation of 
 tlie charge, reasonable time should have been af- 
 forded for the purpose ; the more plain the case, the 
 stronger seemingly the evidence, the more impera- 
 tive in a judicial proceeding was this duty. One can 
 hardly believe that five days only elapsed; from the 
 commencement of the proceeding to the publication 
 of the sentence ; and twelve hours of delay were 
 respectfully solicited for the defence and refused j- 
 on the sixth day the defence appeared. It is obvi^ 
 
28o Memoir of the Rev. jfokn Keble. 
 
 ously quite immaterial to consider whether that de- 
 fence would have availed, or ought to have availed ; 
 a judgment so pronounced could have no moral 
 weight. The members of the Board must have 
 been familiar with and should have remembered the 
 weighty lines of the Roman Tragedian : — 
 
 " Qui statuit aliquid parte inaudita altera, 
 ^quum licet statuerit, haud sequus fuit." 
 
 But from judges they had unfortunately made 
 themselves parties ; and it was impossible after this 
 that in the course of the subsequent proceedings 
 in the progress of the controversy, they could be 
 looked up to as just or impartial. In proportion 
 to the goodness lof their cause, (and no doubt they 
 believed it to be good,; it was a great opportunity 
 lost. The subsequently proposed statute was a fit- 
 ting sequel, the same indecent haste prevailed, and 
 the strong measure of the veto was provoked and 
 justified. 
 
 It has been said that the proceeding was not judi- 
 cial, that the sentence was against no person ; this 
 seems to me mere trifling with common sense ; they 
 who pronounced it must have known that through 
 the Tract they were striking at the author and de- 
 fenders ; and that it was only as it affected thein 
 the sentence could have any meaning or weight. 
 The consequences of it were indeed weighty, but 
 with these I have now no concern. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 OTTERBOURNE CHURCH AND PARSONAGE. — AMP- 
 FIELD CHURCH AND PARSONAGE. — HURSLEY PAR- 
 SONAGE. — "LYRA INNOCENTIUM." — KEBLE'S RESO- 
 LUTION AS TO THE ENGLISH CHURCH. — "MOTHER 
 OUT OF SIGHT." 
 
 IT is pleasant to come back for a while from the 
 troubled scene at Oxford to the quiet of Hursley, 
 a quiet which however was full of hope and activity. 
 I have already given a general account of what the 
 benefice, which Keble was now the incumbent of, 
 ■consisted. The Vicarage of Hursley is of large ex- 
 tent, including several hamlets, and having a scat- 
 tered population. Otterbourne is less in size and po- 
 pulation, but its population also is scattered, and for 
 the most part living at a distance from the church, 
 which was far too small for its numbers. When 
 Keble entered on his charge, he found the inha- 
 bitants of Otterbourne busy in endeavouring to add 
 to it an aisle ; the Bishop had recommended them 
 to wait until the new Rector had been instituted, 
 and they had done so. When the matter came be- 
 fore him, their views had enlarged, and in con- 
 sideration of the great inconvenience of the situa- 
 tion, aggravated now by the Railway having been 
 
282 Memoir of the Rev. John Kehle. 
 
 carried near to it, they desired, and he with some 
 regret acceded to, the erection of a new church on 
 a more convenient site ; he was unwilling to sepa- 
 rate the church and churchyard, from a feeling which 
 one cannot but sympathize with ; but he yielded to- 
 the general wish, preserving, however, the old chancel 
 for the performance of the Burial Service. He con- 
 tributed ;^400 towards the erection of the new church, 
 on a site which was given for the purpose by the: 
 President and Fellows of Magdalen College, Oxford, 
 who are landholders in the parish. 
 
 Keble had the good fortune to find among the re- 
 sidents in Otterbourne a relation of mine, William 
 Crawley Yonge, who having served in the Peninsula. 
 and at Waterloo in the distinguished 52nd, had re- 
 tired from the army upon his marriage at the re- 
 establishment of the general peace ; though a Light 
 Infantry officer only, he had been a diligent student 
 of military engineering, and had made himself a good 
 military draughtsman. He became Keble's archi- 
 tect : for his designs he had recourse to the great 
 examples at Winchester, and in its neighbourhood,, 
 and worked out his drawings with infinite care and 
 patience; he brought his stone from Caen, at that 
 time a rather unusual thing ; was acute and intel- 
 ligent in making his contracts, and vigilant in see- 
 ing to their faithful execution. The result was a 
 church not without its faults, and thirty years aga 
 few churches were built without them, (not many 
 
Otterboume Churck, 283. 
 
 indeed now,) but effective in its architectural clia- 
 racter, and on the whole, with reference to its date,, 
 convenient in its arrangements. Keble of course 
 considered a parsonage necessary to complete his- 
 designs for the parish ; accordingly he purchased 
 a site, and, with the same help from the same archi- 
 tect, erected a handsome and commodious residence 
 for the Curate whom he placed there ; these last 
 measures were at his sole expense. 
 
 While the Otterbourne Church was in course of 
 erection. Sir William Heathcote was busy in pre- 
 paring for building, entirely at his own expense, 
 a .second church in Hursley parish, at Ampfield ;, 
 and this was also undertaken and executed by the 
 same volunteer architect, with at least equal suc- 
 cess. I take pleasure in recording these labours 
 of tihe retired soldier, performed at a time when 
 regularly trained architects were not so numerous, 
 as now, and when the principles of architecture, and 
 their application, were comparatively little studied. 
 The works too were performed without ostentation,, 
 and with most commendable patience and zeal. 1 
 should add that in respect of both these churches,. 
 W. C. Yonge was assisted as to some details by 
 Mr. Carter, now deceased, then an architect residing 
 at Winchester. 
 
 The situation of Ampfield Church is veiy beau- 
 tiful, and that of the churchyard remarkably so,, 
 sheltered on the north and east by wood and wood- 
 
284 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 land, open on the south and west, and commanding 
 a beautiful and extensive view ; flourishing ever- 
 greens adorn it ; the road from Winchester to Rom- 
 sey runs by the open side, which gives a special ap- 
 propriateness to a fountain surmounted by a cross, 
 which is close to one of the entrances to the church- 
 yard ; it bears the inscription following : — 
 
 " While cooling waters here ye drink, 
 
 Rest not your thoughts below ; 
 Look to the sacred sign, and think 
 
 Whence living waters flow ; 
 Then fearlessly advance by night or day. 
 The holy Cross stands guardian of your way." 
 
 Many years have passed since I stood on this 
 spot, but I remember well, that even with the close 
 neighbourhood of a turnpike road, the prevailing 
 character of the whole scene was one of solemn 
 rest, and almost seclusion ; the dark background of 
 foliage perhaps helps to produce this effect. 
 
 A very short inscription on the basin into which 
 the water pours, in German character, and German 
 words, headed with the initials of three names, hardly 
 serves to convey information to the common way- 
 faring man, that it was placed there in memory 
 of a holy fountain seen by the three friends when 
 on a tour together in the Tyrol. One of these three. 
 Lady Heathcote, for I will take leave to add her 
 name, furnished the inscription which I have printed 
 above. 
 
Ampfield Church, 285 
 
 Mr. Savage, from whose work. I have freely re- 
 freshed my memory, mentions the placing in the 
 church of a stained - glass window in memory of 
 John Keble ; it is the gift of the parishioners, and 
 records their grateful remembrance of his services ; 
 the design was given by Mr. Butterfield, and £2^ 
 out of ;£^33, the cost of the window, were returned 
 by Mr. Wailes to the Keble College Fund. These 
 are, it may be, little facts, but I do not like to pass 
 them over in silence. 
 
 The building of Ampfield Church, and the con- 
 stitution of a separate district for it, relieved Keble 
 from a considerable part of his burthen, the whole of 
 which was too heavy to be borne by a single pastor ; 
 and he no doubt gladly consented, by the apportion- 
 ment of part of the rent-charge of the Vicarage, to 
 lay the foundation of an endowment for the new 
 district. This was completed by a grant made from 
 the Great Tithes by the Dean and Chapter of Win- 
 chester, and a fund subscribed by the parishioners ; 
 to which a single individual, Mr. White, of Ampfield 
 House, contributed ;£^500. Sir William Heathcote 
 gave a pleasant parsonage and field, and Mr. Wil- 
 son, Keble's first Curate, became the first Perpetual 
 Curate of the new district. 
 
 I may add here that Sir William had also before 
 this conveyed to the Vicar of Hursley, as the Vicar^ 
 age, the house, which he had in the beginning oc- 
 cupied only as tenant. 
 
.286 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 The particulars of this narrative are surely plea- 
 sant to think upon ; it was in this spirit, I con- 
 ceive, that our Pai'ochial System first took its be- 
 ginning ; a liberal landholder, a zealous tenantry, 
 an earnest Priest, all concurring to raise in a cer- 
 tain district the first daughter church to the great 
 -cathedral mother ; and the system itself furnishing 
 facilities, as time passed on, and the population, 
 cultivation of the land, and wealth increased, for 
 subdivisions to be made, and new daughter churches 
 -to spring up. Such a system, so favourable for the 
 maintenance and growth of religious feelings and 
 practices, we should surely cling to ; where it is pos- 
 sible, as in the country it generally is, even in its de- 
 tails ; and where not so, as may be the case in our 
 overgrown towns and cities, in that which is more 
 important, its principles. 
 
 The erection of these two churches in his cure was 
 matter of deep joy and gratitude to Keble. The 
 remainder of his scattered flock, with an exception 
 as to a hamlet called Pitt, which was provided for 
 afterwards, was now within more easy distance of 
 Hursley Church ; but their erection naturally turned 
 his thoughts more actively towards that church which 
 was daily under his eye. It was, according to the 
 fashion of many in Hampshire, of brick, well and 
 solidly constructed, and it was in good substantial 
 repair. It had been built by Sir William's great 
 grandfather towards the end of George the Second's 
 
Hursley Church. 2S7 
 
 reign, probably on the site where one of stone had 
 stood before, for it was attached at tlie west end 
 to a massive tower of flint and hewn stone, sur- 
 mounted by a brick parapet ; it was arranged and 
 furnished within after the fashion of the eighteenth 
 century. Within and without the whole was pain- 
 fully unsatisfactory to Keble. It may be remem- 
 bered how, in a letter from him on his first coming 
 to Hursley as Curate, when he enumerated the ob- 
 jects which he found there to his liking, he men- 
 tions |the tower, and is silent as to the church. He 
 was at the time fresh from the noble church at Fair- 
 ford ; but the feeling grew on him ; nothing that 
 was appropriate could be to his mind too beautiful 
 or rich for God's house. I find him, in a letter to 
 Cornish, dated Oct. 19, 1846, writing thus : — 
 
 " We are stirring about our church, under the patronage 
 ■of the Venerable Bede, and next spring I trust we shall 
 really go to work ; you must come and see the plaiis first, 
 or else hereafter for ever hold your peace, in respect of 
 alleging impediments. One feels that one's advanced age 
 has not rendered one fitter to set about' such works ; but 
 really the irreverence and other mischiefs caused by the 
 present state of Hursley Church seem to leave one no 
 choice." 
 
 Two or three subjects of course engrossed his at- 
 tention at once in consequence of his resolving upon 
 this ujidertaking, and it will be better for me to follow 
 him throughout in regard to these, postponing for 
 
288 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 the time other matters which I shall have to men- 
 tion, and which occurred before and during the pro- 
 secution. Scarcely anything seemed to him of more 
 importance ; and his frequent letters to Dyson, shew 
 that he spared neither money, nor time, nor thought, 
 nor bodily labour, in doing as well as he could what 
 he had set about. 
 
 He was first to determine as to an architect : was 
 hev to call on William Yonge to do for Hursley wha,t 
 he had done for Otterbourne and Ampfield .'' As 
 to this he might have felt some little delicacy, but 
 William Yonge at once removed it ; he not only 
 cordially concurred in the desire to employ a pro- 
 fessional architect, but advised it sjtrongly in con- 
 sideration of the much more varied and complicated 
 work now to be done. Keble accordingly wrote to 
 Mr. Harrison, of whom he had heard well " from 
 various quarters independent of each other," and 
 who was beside a relation of his old friend of the 
 same name, the Archdeacon of Maidstone. He ac- 
 cordingly became the architect. 
 
 The procuring tenders, and contracting with build- 
 ers, were matters to come on subsequently; but at 
 once, of course, he was to consider his funds. He 
 had determined to meet himself the whole ex- 
 pense of the building, and it was clear, without wait- 
 ing for specification or estimate, that the money 
 at his own disposal would be inadequate ; it oc- 
 curred to him at first to sell the copyright of 
 
Hursley Church. 2 89 
 
 " The Christian Year." As soon as two or three 
 of his intimate friends heard of this, we opposed 
 it very strongly. We had a strong opinion as to 
 the great pecuniary value of the copyright, and 
 thought it very unlikely that any publisher look- 
 ing on it as a mere trade speculation, would be 
 likely to offer a full equivalent ; but we thought 
 further, that it was exactly the kind of work which 
 ought to remain as long as possible in the Author's 
 own hands, and under his own control. Three of 
 us, therefore, Dyson, Patteson, and myself, proposed 
 to supply him with money as he should want it for 
 the building ; " The Christian Year" to be our secu- 
 rity. There was no thought or talk of any legal 
 security by assignment to us ; but I was to arrange 
 the terms for each edition as it should be called for, 
 and to receive the price. No doubt this was a con- 
 venience to Keble, and set his mind free from all 
 anxiety ; but it was no inconvenience to us, nor ulti- 
 mate loss. Keble sacrificed for the time the income 
 he had used to derive from this source, but he never 
 lost the ownership of the book, while it was nomi- 
 nally in our hands ; and the beneficial property re- 
 turned to him, when the account was cleared, to be 
 the means in his hands of supplying comforts which 
 age and infirmity might make necessaries, and of 
 feeding that stream of bounty which was constantly 
 flowing from him. So much has been said of this 
 arrangement, and sometimes with so much exag- 
 
 u 
 
290 Memoir of the Rev. John Kehle. 
 
 geration, that it seemed to me right to state the 
 simple truth regarding it. 
 
 I do not know what funds Keble had at his dis- 
 posal beyond the yearly proceeds of " The Chris- 
 tian Year," but it was certain that some further 
 addition would still be desirable ; to this we owe 
 the completion and publication at that time of the 
 Lyra Innocentium. On the 26th of May, 1845, he 
 wrote to me thus from Hursley Vicarage : — 
 
 " I have got a scheme for raising money for the Church, 
 in which perhaps you can help me; (perhaps the Dysons 
 may have mentioned it to you ;) to publish a set of things 
 which have been accumulating for the last 3 or 4 years, 
 under the title of ' Lyra Lnnocenfium, or Thoughts in Verse 
 on the Sayings and Doings of Little Children, and the Re- 
 velations of God's Will concerning them,' or something to 
 that effect. As far as I can judge, it may stand as fair 
 a chance of being profitable as its predecessor. Will it 
 be asking too much of my kind Committee Men to sug- 
 .gest that they should make the bargain for me with Parker, 
 if tliey approve it. I could wish to stipulate that Mozley 
 of Derby should be the Printer. It will be nearly, but not 
 perhaps quite as big as the C. Y., and will admit, I think, 
 ; more easily of illustration by the pencil. It has been a 
 , great comfort to me in the desolating anxiety of the last 
 .2 years, and I wish I could settle at once to some otlier 
 '.such task." 
 
 The sorrows and troubles to which he refers under 
 the touching term of "desolating anxiety," I have 
 already in part ' stated ; but he also included that of 
 which he had now the certain prospect before him. 
 
" Lyra Innocentium." 291 
 
 the loss from our Church of that most dear and 
 ihonoured friend, with whom for so many years he 
 ""had taken sweet counsel, and walked in the house 
 of God," heart to heart and mind to mind locked 
 closely. This was the sorrow of his life, from which 
 I think he never wholly recovered. 
 He goes on : — 
 
 " I can already judge a little of the perplexity and dis- 
 tress which will ensue. Did I tell you that Pusey wrote 
 some time since to ask whether one could think of any- 
 thing to be done by way of preparation for the blow. Does 
 anything occur- to you ? I wish P. himself, Moberly, Mar- 
 riott, and Manning, &c., to apply themselves to the study 
 of the controversy, for I am sure there will be great need 
 ■of them." 
 
 I shall have occasion soon to enter more into 
 Keble's own thoughts on this matter. I pursue at 
 present the subject of the Lyra. 
 
 Specimens were sent very soon after both to Dy- 
 son, (or I should rather say to the Dysons, for the 
 ladies there were always most properly included in 
 the council,) and to myself. We all agreed in our 
 admiration of them, and also in the token they 
 gave that Keble had advanced considerably in his 
 religious opinions. On grounds partly of actual 
 disagreement, and partly of the imprudence!, at all 
 events, of publishing them at that critical time, we 
 objected to the insertion of two or three of the 
 poems. There was one especially, perhaps the most 
 
292 Memoir of- the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 beautiful of the whole, upon which we wrote to him, 
 after I had been to Dogmersfield to confer upon it. 
 This poem, as commonly happens in such a case, 
 has been much talked of, and has been seen by 
 many people ; and it seems to me both just to Ke- 
 ble's memory, and a part of the duty of an honest 
 biographer, to publish it now at a time, when, even 
 if it might have been harmful originally, it can do no 
 harm, and may help to establish that legitimate, and 
 as I believe. Scriptural reverence which is due to the 
 object of it. He wrote to me respecting it thus : — 
 
 "H. v., -LZJune, 1845. 
 " My dear Coleridge, 
 
 " You may believe that as far as trade is concerned, your 
 opinion and Dyson's is very welcome to me, and I am quite 
 willing to make the bargain with Parker which you think 
 equitable. I of course rather expected that some would 
 demur to the things which you mention, and indeed I se- 
 lected on purpose the three which I thought most likely 
 to attract such objections as part of the specimen. But to 
 say the truth, I did not expect that Mrs. and Miss Dyson 
 would have objected on their own accqunt ; and it makes 
 me even sadder than I was before, as shewing how very 
 very far even the purest specimens of the English Church 
 are from the Whole Church everywhere else.' You see 
 when I recommend the Ave, I mean merely the Scrip- 
 tural part ; but if such persons have this feeling, I suppose 
 even this must be given up. With regard to the verse 
 
 ' He calls thee Mother evermore ;' 
 if the Gospel is His word, and if the Gospel calls her His 
 
" Lyra Innocentium." 293 
 
 Mother, and if the doctrinal decisions of the Whole Church 
 are His words, and if they call her ef070Koi, how can it be 
 other than true, and so true, that to deny or doubt it is 
 touching a very vital part of the Faith. Indeed, when I 
 think of it, I am sure I must misunderstand your objec- 
 tion ; would it be removed if the word ' owns' were put 
 for 'calls.' This, however, I only ask for my own satis- 
 faction, for I see that it is quite impossible to print those 
 verses in the face of such a feeling as you express on the 
 part of the Dysons, and I cannot see my way to any de- 
 cent abridgement or modification. I have made up my 
 mind also to the omission of the other two. I only wish 
 I had some good substitutes. 
 
 " No doubt there would be the difference in tone which 
 you take notice of between this and the former book, for 
 when I wrote that, I did not understand, (to mention no 
 more points,) either the doctrine of Repentance, or that of 
 the Holy Eucharist, as held e.g. by Bp. Ken ; nor that of 
 Justification : and such points as those must surely make 
 a great difference. But may it please God to preserve me 
 from writing as unreally and as deceitfully as I did then ; 
 and if I could tell you the whole of my shameful history, 
 you would join with all your heart in this prayer. Pray do 
 so, dear friend, for indeed there is great need. 
 
 "But not now to talk of myself; if the verses are less 
 comfortable, perhaps they may be of more use as making 
 their readers, the younger ones especially, familiar with 
 some of the great truths ; and I suppose I had some fancy 
 of this kind in the one which you so much doubt about 
 If we come when we hope, we will bring up the whole 
 batch, and you will be better able to judge. 
 
 " In the Lifting up to the Cross, (which was suggested 
 by a drawing of Miss T.'s, taken from the life,) the ' be- 
 
294 Memoir of the Rev. John Kehle. 
 
 lieving Isle,' is Ireland; the scene should have been Bel- 
 gium, but I made it Italy by mistake. 
 
 " I thought that case of Simeon was an illustration of 
 the principle I was laying down, that great spiritual favours- 
 must expect to be accompanied with suffering ; and I sup- 
 pose death is in itself so awful a thing as to warrant the ex- 
 pression, * deep agony.' But this might be easily changed." 
 
 Then, after writing on entirely different matters, 
 he adds these very touching words : — 
 
 " I am sure I ought quite to share in your feeling, that 
 it is not for those to be judging between different Chiurches 
 who have made such ill use, as I for one have, of present 
 Iielps to holiness. (This is not humility, mock or real, but 
 plain and sad truth, as you would say, if you knew all.) 
 And with this thought I suppose I should content myself, 
 if a Layman, as far as controversy is concerned ; but it 
 keeps coming unpleasantly before me that this is hardly 
 consistent with the Priest's office ; and especially when, as 
 sometimes happens, I am asked for advice, then indeed I 
 have had to think of the blind leading the blind. And yet 
 I suppose I am not really uncomfortable, I eat, drink, and 
 sleep, as if nothing was the matter. 
 
 " I hope Charlotte is rather better ; with aJl love, again 
 your's ever dearest friend, 
 
 "J. K." 
 
 It will scarcely be supposed that I publish a let- 
 ter, however deeply interesting in itself> so liable 
 to misconstruction, without much consideration. I 
 am to represent my friend for good and for evil 
 truly, if I undertake to write his life at all. Thia 
 
^^ Lyra Innocentiumr 295 
 
 is a part, and sometimes a painful part, of the com- 
 pact which a biographer makes with the public, when 
 he undertakes to write a life. Keble I am sure 
 needs no panegyric at the expense of truth, nor do 
 I think that when what he says of himself in this 
 letter is fairly considered, it will be found that he 
 needs an apologist. He writes indeed bitter things 
 against 'himself, we are bound to believe sincerely, 
 and I am sure without any intentional exaggera- . 
 tion ; but I am as certain as I can be in a matter 
 which does not admit of demonstrative evidence, 
 that there is all that exaggeration, which is, I may 
 say, the natural growth of remarkable purity of 
 heart, and the most unusual humility. Something I 
 have said on this subject before, which I need not 
 repeat : but this I must add, that had there been 
 any reasonable foundation for the language which 
 Keble uses in regard to himself, he ought to have 
 added something more to it to make it the whole 
 truth; he ought indeed to have spoken of himself 
 as also the most consummate of hypocrites. I say 
 this not with reference to the world in general, but 
 he and I lived on terms of such entire intimacy, that 
 if there were any foundation for his strong expres- 
 sions, nothing but the most artful and systematic 
 hypocrisy could have prevented my knowing some- 
 thing of it ; yet on me he has left, and he must 
 have known that he was leaving, the deepest and 
 simplest impression of the most spotless purity in 
 
296 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 words, thoughts, impulses, and acts from youth to 
 old age, of any human being I have ever seen or 
 known of How I answered this part of his letter at 
 the time, I do not now recollect ; probably I passed 
 it by in silence, for I had long learned that he took 
 nothing so ill as words of praise, or vindication of 
 himself from himself 
 
 I rather fear that I have been induced by the re- 
 markable intensity of his language to say more on 
 this subject than was needful. It is, indeed, an 
 awful consideration that such a man should be able 
 to write of himself sincerely in such language. We 
 are not often allowed to see into the inward thoughts 
 of holy men respecting themselves, and surely when 
 we are, it should not lead us to think ill of them, 
 but should serve to rouse us out of our own easy 
 goings on. Let my readers turn to the strong lan- 
 guage of the Private Devotions of Bishop Andrewes, 
 said to have been printed from a manuscript wet 
 with his frequent tears ; no one can doubt their sin- 
 cerity, yet no one ought to doubt the purity of his 
 spirit, or the holiness of his life. 
 
 Now I pass to the other matter discussed in l!he 
 letter, or rather suggested by it. Here, again, allow- 
 ance must be made for the same humility which ex- 
 tended to his notions of himself intellectually, and 
 in regard of his acquirements and knowledge, as 
 well as to all his considerations of himself morally. 
 In truth he had been a more than commonly well- 
 
Religious Difficulties. 297 
 
 grounded student in theology ; his reading was 
 extensive, and his recollection very accurate ; and 
 although circumstances had for some years directed 
 his attention more to the divisions in the Reformed 
 Church, than to the great controversy between Rome 
 and the Reformation, he was by no means ignorant 
 in this. I believe his position to have beeh of this 
 sort. All his associations, early and late, were with 
 the Church of his Fathers ; the loyal and affec- 
 tionate language in respect of her to be found every- 
 where in "The Christian Year" was not merely po- 
 etical, it was sincere. But he had grown up in the 
 High Church School, and as a High Churchman 
 naturally will do, he looked upwards through the 
 Reformation to the Primitive and the Undivided 
 Church ; he loved his own Branch as, on the whole, 
 a faithful representative on earth of that Church ; 
 the more truly and exactly she represented it, the 
 more did he think her excellent, and to be loved ; 
 the more she admitted what he called Puritanical 
 Doctrines or Practices, the less loyal and dutiful 
 could he be. Coin and his father on the one hand, 
 -Fairford and its incumbent on the other, were ever in 
 his recollection ; and he saw with the greatest grief 
 the uprising and growth of the latter school, from 
 a state in which it might be thought to have heeded 
 greater tolerance than it received, into equality first, 
 and then predominance, not always used with per- 
 fect charity or fairness. Again, he was troubled with 
 
298 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 the entire want of discipline in the Church ; and it 
 seemed to him, from his own experience as a Pastor, 
 that this, coupled with the disuse of Confession, left 
 him without' the means of acquiring a proper know- 
 ledge of the condition of his flock, and without power 
 of enforcing upon them amendment of life. He was: 
 moreover much dissatisfied not only with some of 
 the decisions, but with the jurisdiction of the Final 
 Court of Appeal ; ' did its decrees respecting Sacra- 
 ments bind the Church ? had She the means of pro- 
 testing against them, and did She by her silence 
 acquiesce in them ? 
 
 These were troubles on one side ; on the other he 
 could not but know of the doubts, in favour of Rome^ 
 which were arising in the heart and head of one 
 whom perhaps of all hig intimate friends he most 
 loved,,. and leaned on in such matters; doubts the 
 more perplexing to him, because he knew they were 
 not invited wantonly, and yet continued to increase 
 in strength, until they issued, to use that friend's 
 own language, in "a strong intellectual convictioa 
 tliat the Roman Catholic System and Christianity 
 were convertible terms." There may be many, not 
 perhaps those who have read or thought most deeply 
 on the controversy, who can see in all this no reason- 
 able, or even excusable grounds for doubt, or trouble 
 of mind. Keble, however, was not one of those ; he 
 had both ; and it is matter for the deepest grati- 
 tude that he was supported under them, and guided 
 
Religious Difficulties. 299 
 
 safely through them. The process through which he 
 passed may be traced in his letters which He before 
 me. In the first" place, and from the beginning to- 
 the end, he had a deep conviction that, let what 
 would happen in England, there was that in Rome- 
 to which he could not reconcile his belief : — 
 
 "I cannot go to Rome," he wrote to me in 1841, "till' 
 Rome be much changed indeed ; but I may be driven out . 
 of the English Church, should that adopt the present set 
 of Charges and Programmes; and many will, I fear, not 
 be content to be nowhere, as I should feel it my duty to- 
 try to be." 
 
 And, again, in the same year he writes : — ■ 
 
 "As to Rome, I thought I had said in, my letter to you, 
 that come what will, it would be impossible [twice under- 
 scored] for me to join it until it is other than at present ; 
 Archbishop Laud's saying as I think; and I suppose you 
 would not yourself say, that if Rome altered her terms of 
 communion to a certain extent, such communion ought not 
 to be sought. The contingency that I contemplate, a very 
 dreary one, but such an one as I, ought not to think it 
 strange if I incur it, is, not going to Rome, but being driven 
 out of all communion whatever. I cannot hide it from 
 myself that two Prelates have distinctly denied an article 
 of the Apostles' Creed, the H. C. Ch. ; and that while no 
 notice is taken of them, attempts are being made in Oxford, 
 and in' many Dioceses at once, to enforce a view equivalent 
 to theirs ; which view, if it were adopted, would drive me, 
 and, as I suppose, all Catholic Christians, out of Commu- 
 nion. If I were like some whom I could name, I suppose 
 I should look at this more calmly, but it would take a long^ 
 
300 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 time to prepare me as they are prepared. Pray think of 
 me as kindly as you can, and do not forget me when and 
 where you know one would most wish to be remembered." 
 
 In this state of mind he continued for some 
 time : it is indicated in the touching passage I now 
 extract from a letter to me in June, 1843. This 
 had been a year of trial for myself, and I reluct- 
 antly pass over the touching and affectionate lan- 
 guage in which he consoled me under great sorrow ; 
 but I will not interrupt the present consideration by 
 anything personal to myself : — 
 
 " What a comfort," says he to me, " in your late deep 
 affliction, must it have been to be so sure as you all are 
 of sympathizing entirely one with another; and by this 
 time I hope the bitterness has passed away with you all. 
 Of course I cannot tell how a parent feels, but it seems to 
 me that the unsettled state of our Church tends to make 
 me think more of the joy and comfort of those who are in 
 peace out of sight; and as things get more perplexing, I 
 keep saying to myself, it ought to make me more charitable, 
 and then the next minute I go away and rail at those un- 
 happy . . . without mercy. I suppose we all want to learn 
 how to act, when in doubt ourselves, and how to make al- 
 lowance for others who feel certain when we are doubtful." 
 
 Again, in October of the same year, he writes 
 to me : — 
 
 " I suppose from some part of your letter that you have 
 been told of my speaking to friends occasionally, as if I was 
 
Religions Difficulties. 301 
 
 perplexed about continuing where I am. My perplexity is 
 rather what to say to others, who may ask my advice, than 
 how to act myself. Few persons have a stronger feeling 
 than I of the duty of continuing where one's lot is cast ; 
 except where the call to go elsewhere is very plain. It 
 may be that I do not see my way clearly in the contro- 
 versy between us and Rome ; but as long as I was in 
 doubt, and perhaps a good deal longer than I might seem 
 to myself in speculation to be so, I should think it my 
 duty to stay where I am. Nothing could justify one's 
 quitting one's Communion, except a long, deliberate, un- 
 willing conviction, forced on one's heart and conscience, 
 as well as intellect, that it was incurably fallen from being 
 a Church. No private judgment of the comparative per- 
 fection of another Church, did such exist, would at all 
 justify such a change. This, as far as I understand my- 
 self, is my present judgment in this awful matter ; but, 
 believe me, my dearest friend, I want prayer and help 
 quite as much as N., though for very different reasons.'' 
 
 On St. John's Day in the same year he writes 
 to me : — 
 
 " You will find a good deal of my feelings iii an article 
 which has been reprinted from the .' Christian Remem- 
 brancer,' I mean especially when that speaks of the prac- 
 tical failure of the Enghsh Church, which I feel more and 
 more deeply every day ; chiefly in that I find myself more 
 and more oppressed with the consciousness of my own 
 ignorance, and how bhndly I go about the Parish, not 
 knowing what men are really doing; and whenever I do 
 make any discoveries, they disclose a fearful state of things ; 
 and even when there is some seriousness, of respect and 
 
302 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 ■confidence towards the Priest as such there is none, or 
 next to none. In short, our one great grievance is the 
 neglect of Confession. Until we can begin to revive thal^ 
 we shall not have the due severity in our religion; and 
 without a severe religion, I fear our Church will practi- 
 cally fail." 
 
 He pursues the same subject in a letter dated on 
 the Purification, 1844: — 
 
 "Another reason for my being a worse correspondent 
 than usual, is that somehow or another the Parish takes 
 up more and more time ; as one gets more acquainted with 
 the people, more and more things occur, which make me 
 think a visit worth while. This is a reason for which I 
 ought to be very thankful, though it is sad to think after 
 all how very little one knows of* one's people. We go on 
 working in the dark, and in the dark it will be, until the 
 rule of systematic Confession is revived in our Church. 
 This is one of the things which make persons like Mr. 
 Gladstone, however competent in most respects, yet on 
 the whole incompetent judges of tlie real working of our 
 English System. They do not, they cannot, unless they 
 were tried as we are, form an adequate notion, how ab- 
 solutely we are in our parishes like people whose lantern 
 has blown out, and who are feeling their way, and con- 
 tinually stepping in puddles and splotches of mud, wliicli 
 they think are dry stones. Then the tradition which goes 
 by the name of Justification by Faith, and which in reality 
 means, that one who has sinned, and is sorry for it, is as 
 if he had not sinned, blights and benumbs one in every 
 limb, in tiying to make people aware of their real state. 
 These are the sort of things, and not the want of handsome 
 
Religious Difficulties. 303 
 
 "Churches, and respect for Church Authority, and such like 
 •comparatively external points, which make me at times feel 
 so disheartened about our System altogether, and cause 
 z. suspicion against one's will, that the life is gone, or going 
 out of it. And this is why I so deprecate the word and 
 tlie idea of Protestantism, because it seems inseparable to 
 me from 'Every man his own absolver,' that is in other 
 ■words the same as Peace where there is no Peace, and 
 mere shadows of Repentance. And this objection is over 
 .and above the great doctrinal grounds, which, I see, are 
 pretty well stated by some one in the 'English Chunch- 
 man' of this week. But enough of this which I inflict on 
 jrou, because I think I made some such promise, and which 
 I know is too vague and common-place to be worth writing 
 ■down, only I seemed to feel it at the moment." 
 
 On the 31st of December in this year he vi^rote to 
 ■me a New Year's Eve letter, much of it on the same 
 subject, but I do not like to omit other parts so full 
 •of affection, and so characteristic of him : — 
 
 " My -raRY DEAR Coleridge, 
 
 " I must write you a line on this New Year's Eve, though 
 you will not get it to-morrow ; but you will have our best 
 ■wishes, one and all of you, just the same. Among many 
 blessings most undeserved, and enough to make one sink 
 in amazement, if one's heart was not so much harder than 
 it ought to be, which come crowding on one's memory at 
 :such a time, I seem this year particularly to feel, that surely 
 nobody ever had so many kind affectionate letters as I have 
 this year received, and especially from Montague Place and 
 ■Otteiy j and one's neglect of them, I fear, is a faint sample 
 
304 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 of how one stands for thankfulness in a Higher Quarter. 
 Well, as poor old Latimer used to say, God mend all. 
 Now I must touch on one or two things in your late let- 
 ters. First, on that which seems to be nearly heaviest on 
 your heart, as it has long been on mine, the danger we are 
 
 in of losing dear from our branch of the Church. I 
 
 wish I could say that my sense of it at all abates ; but my 
 comforts (some of them) are these ; with regard to him, 
 really whatever happens, I believe him so pure-minded and 
 self-denying, and so on the watch against intellectual pride, 
 and other such temptations, that I shall think he probably 
 does right y»r ^mj^^ whatever he does. Yet with regard 
 to the Church of England, I cannot but think, that if it 
 were the duty of ordinary persons to leave her, the marks 
 of reality would be more decidedly wanting, so that persons 
 like some whom we know would not be left in undoubting 
 adherence to her. Intellectually I fear I should be myself 
 in a state of doubt, were I to give my mind to that con- 
 troversy, but such doubt as, according to the principles of 
 Butler, would make it my duty to stay where I am. This 
 being so, however, I suppose it is one's duty to long for 
 and aim at a kind of neutrality in one's judgment and de- 
 meanour towards Rome ; and this I imagine to be really 
 consistent with the English system, and by all accounts in- 
 tended by Q. Elizabeth's Government for the first thirteen 
 years. Then I seem to myself to see Scripture authority 
 for this, both in the O. T. in respect of tlie relations be- ' 
 tween the Ten Tribes and the Two, and in the N. T. in 
 Our Lord's often-quoted aphorism, ' Forbid him not, for he 
 that is not against us is for us.' You know it is often ap- 
 phed to Dissenters, but surely it applies h fortiori to other 
 branches of the Church. Now how this view would act is 
 a great question. I fear it is unreal, but if real, it seems to ' 
 
Religions Difficulties. 305 
 
 me most consoling, and as if it would help one to see one's 
 way both in Ward's matter, and a good many more." 
 
 Keble and Mrs. Keble visited us in Montague 
 Place in June, and at Heath's Court in September, 
 1845 ; we had of course some talk, and some dif- 
 ferences on religious questions, but on neither oc- 
 casion could I perceive anything which indicated 
 any danger of his secession from the English Church. 
 The first visit was at the time when the controversy 
 was going on between us as to the Poem which. 
 Dyson and I desired to keep out of the Lyra ; and 
 of course much of our talk was respecting the honour 
 due to the Blessed Virgin, which it seemed to me he 
 was desirous of raising as much too high as many 
 among us were of reducing it too low. I remember 
 I was fresh from a talk with my dear relative Sara 
 Coleridge, who would not admit there was any evi- 
 dence to warrant our holding her to be even a saint, 
 that is, no clear evidence that she was even remark- 
 ably holy in her life. In this I thought her, I may 
 say, outrageously wrong ; but Keble, who was as 
 clear as I could desire from thinking her an object 
 of worship, still would have been glad to go farther 
 than our Church has deemed safe in the honour to 
 be paid to her. With him the Primitive Church 
 gave the rule, and he allowed great weight to clear 
 ancient tradition in ascertaining what she held. I 
 Jiave before me my notes made at the time of out 
 
 X 
 
.3o6 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 talks on both occasions, and I see how I was struck 
 with the kindness with which he received even re- 
 buke when he had seemed to me to speak with too 
 much severity, as well as with his sweet humility^ 
 .^nd his deeply reverential manner, lowering the tone 
 of his voice, when he spoke on these religious ques- 
 tions. On both occasions he parted from me leaving 
 me in full confidence as to his loyal adherence to 
 -our Church. 
 
 This last visit was paid to us when they were re- 
 turning from a tour which they, together with a party 
 from the Bisley Parsonage, had been making in Corn- 
 wall, and although some of them had been unwell at 
 Bude, yet on the whole it seemed to have been a re- 
 storative to all of them. Mrs. Keble especially had 
 aiearly reached Hursley in better health apparently, 
 -and with more than her usual strength. But imme- 
 diately after, Mr. T. Keble at Bisley, and she at 
 Hursley, were attacked with very severe and alarm- 
 ing illness ; the danger at Hursley seemed so great 
 and imminent that a physician was summoned from 
 London twice, and he (it was the late Dr. Southey) 
 "kindly volunteered a third visit, on pretence, as Keble 
 said, of paying a visit at the Park. It will be seen 
 why I mention this illness, its bearing namely on 
 my present topic. It was just as the agony of this 
 trial was passing away, that the news reached him 
 from Oxford of that having actually been done by 
 his most dear friend, which had so long been im- 
 
Religions Difficulties, 307 
 
 pending. He speaks thus of both trials in writing- 
 to me and to Dyson. Thus he expresses himself 
 on September 27, 1845 : — 
 
 " My dear Coleridge, 
 " Since I wrote we have had some fearful ups and downs. 
 She was nearer sinking on Saturday than ever I knew her. 
 So much so that she took regular leave of us, and such 
 things as she said and looked, my dear friend ; you must 
 really pray that they may not be thrown away upon me. 
 You see the feeble frame exhausted by intense pain seemed 
 cmable to resume its functions, and we feared she would 
 sink of mere exhaustion ; in our distress we telegraphed 
 Dr. Southey a second time from London, and by tlie 
 time he came she was beginning a little to revive ; she 
 had received the H. C, and sent directions and messages 
 to different friends, but it pleased God that she should, for 
 the time at least, be brought back from the very gates of 
 Paradise. During the night, and through Sunday, and the 
 "first part of yesterday, she was reviving ; but just after Dr. S. 
 went away yesterday, about noon, she seemed sinking away 
 again, and the alarm returned 
 
 " The friendliness of the Heathcotes is unspeakable, and 
 -all the people about are very kind. 
 
 " It is remarkable that at Bisley they are quite as anxious 
 -as we are, Tom having been very seriously ill ever since he 
 went away, but he too has now I trust only debility to con- 
 tend with, of that however far too much. On the whole it 
 is a sore season with us, and you and other dear friends 
 must help us." 
 
 Another letter followed of much the same doubt- 
 ful character, and then on October 16, he wrote 
 
3o8 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 communicating more confirmed advances towards re- 
 covery as to both the siclc ones, and he continued 
 thus : — 
 
 " These are great mercies, indeed, and most mercifully 
 are they given, as if on purpose to keep one's heart from 
 quite breaking at the bad news from Oxford. I thought I 
 was quite prepared for it, but it came on me like a thunder- 
 bolt at last ; I had not expected it so soon, and I clung to 
 the respite of a few weeks or months. And yet, though I 
 talk in this tragical way, I go on eating, drinking, and sleep- 
 ing, just as if nothing had happened, or was happening. It 
 is my reason that tells me how low I ought to live, my 
 whole self keeps as hard and as cold as ever. It has been 
 a sort of relief to write to , and tell him how un- 
 changed I hope to be both toward him and the Church 
 of England ; but sometimes I feel as if I could do nothing 
 but sit astonied for the rest of my life." 
 
 To Dyson he wrote on the 1 2th of October : — 
 
 " But what shall I say to the Oxford news, so long ex- 
 pected, yet it came hke a thunderbolt at last. One can 
 but be still and pray; I scarce know anything else that 
 can be done. I have written to him to express as well as 
 I could two feelings, one, continued love and affection to- 
 wards him, the other, that every day things are happening, 
 especially in our two sick rooms, which make it more and 
 more impossible for me to do as he has done; it would 
 seem like impiety to reject such warnings as have been 
 sent to me in that manner ; I mean things which dear C. 
 said at a moment when she thought herself dying. I have 
 some fear whether himself will not be unsettled again 
 
Religious Difficulties. 309 
 
 before long. He wrote now to to announce his pro- 
 fession, and the tone of the note seemed to me a little ex- 
 cited. God bless him wherever, and with whomsoever 
 he is. Ever your aff'=, J. K." 
 
 There remain but a few general words to be said 
 to complete this part of my subject. Keble's course 
 was henceforth clearly laid down in his own mind 
 for his own guidance ; and, as far as regarded him- 
 self, he would have abstained from the controversy 
 entirely. When Dr. Newman's " Essay on the Deve- 
 lopment of the Christian Doctrine" was sent to him, 
 I presume from the author, he declined to read it ; 
 and, having done so, when Dr. Moberly sent him 
 his " Sermons on the Sayings of the Forty Days" 
 with a Preface containing Strictures on that Book, 
 he equally declined to read that. But what he would 
 not do for himself, he could not refuse to do for 
 others. There were some, who, either in their own 
 perplexity applied to him for counsel, or who chal- 
 lenged him, having themselves taken, or resolved 
 to take the step of secession, on his own resolution. 
 He might perhaps have declined to answer, but it 
 was not in his nature to do so, and in order to do 
 this properly, he read the book ; and with the same 
 result. Some of these papers are before me, and 
 testify to the care and candour with which he con- 
 sidered the questions he had to answer. 
 
 Some there are undoubtedly, I believe not many, 
 who have carefully and honestly sounded all the 
 
3 lo Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 depths and the shallows of this great controversy, 
 have ascertained the bearing and the importance of 
 the rocks bare or hidden on either side, and have 
 come out with their minds in a clear undoubting 
 conviction as to the haven in which alone the truth, 
 the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, is to be 
 found ; whichever be the port in which they are an- 
 chored, they are without a scruple, and feel, con- 
 scientiously that they may venture to act as pilots, 
 to others. Some, again, there are, many more I 
 trust in number, and I cannot but think more 
 happy, and quite as safe, who have never enquired 
 at all, because they have thought the controversy 
 either unnecessary, or beyond their reach ; who have 
 been content to accept the creed in which they were 
 brought up, and their parents before them ; and 
 striven only to walk humbly, and truly, according^ 
 to its teaching. Some, again, there are, and cer- 
 tainly I knew some remarkable instances at the 
 time to which I refer, persons of timorous, scru- 
 pulous, even captious natures, easily offended, and 
 impatient of a doubt. It cannot be denied, that 
 for such persons many stumbling-blocks were raised 
 at this time, and to be free from the difficulties 
 which then were pressing on them too often seemed 
 to be the only object of such persons. They re- 
 versed Hamlet's rule, — rather than bear the ills they 
 knew, they would fly to others that they knew not 
 of. My quarrel with some of these was, that being 
 
Religious Difficulties. 3 1 r 
 
 hopelessly, often avowedly, incompetent as guides, 
 they yet could not refrain from troubling those who 
 were at peace in their own course. 
 
 Keble belonged to no one of these classes ; lie 
 thought the controversy of great importance ; he. 
 was in a general way sufficiently instructed in it^ 
 perhaps enough so to warrant him in believing, 
 that even after more enquiry, he should be unable 
 intellectually to find on either side the truth, the 
 whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Then he 
 thought, and the thought was congenial to his hum- 
 ble, tender nature, that the true question for himself 
 was. Shall I be safe where I am .-' this allowed him 
 to admit all moral arguments into the enquiry. Was 
 he to affirm that so many great and good men, 
 ■whose writings had been his study, whose charac- 
 ters the objects of his love and admiration througli 
 life ; or that his father, his mother, his sisters, all as 
 he believed saints in heaven ; had lived and died out 
 of the Church of Christ } There may be some who may 
 smile, not one I hope who will sneer, at what he 
 writes of those which he believed to be the parting: 
 looks and words of his wife, when her pure spirit 
 seemed to him to be as it were in sight of Paradise. 
 These may have no place in a strictly theological ; 
 argument ; yet I shall not shrink from saying that' 
 in my opinion, considering what was the object he- 
 proposed to himself, he acted rightly, even in a judi- 
 <dal sense, in giving great weight to such an incident- 
 
312 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 They were in effect the same as the ■ dying words 
 of her who had been for years his true and fond 
 partner and helpmate, his counsellor in all his pas- 
 toral labours and troubles, who knew better than 
 any one the worth of his work in the sphere in 
 which God had placed him, and who at that try- 
 ing, perhaps enlightening, moment was testifying in 
 a very conclusive manner, that to her, at least, 
 there was comfort and a blessed hope in the creed 
 to which she besought him to cling. These are 
 circumstances, which as motives to conduct may 
 properly have their weight, which yet do not come 
 into the category of strict proof; and I for one 
 should not estimate as of no value the conviction 
 which fastened on the mind, I admit in some mea- 
 sure through the feelings, and it may be the experi- 
 ences, of such a man as John Keble. 
 
 In the course of these later pages Keble has 
 spoken of Confession, against which the general 
 opinion, perhaps even more the general feeling, is 
 so strong, that I can scarcely avoid saying a few 
 words to prevent a misimpression as to himself It 
 must be re;nembered that he was not so much 
 propounding a system, as stating his own expe- 
 rience in his own parish. The parish was a country 
 one, not over-sized, and the circumstances, at least 
 as favourable to the effectual discharge of pastoral 
 duty as ordinarily occur to any incumbent. He 
 was, indeed, painfully sensitive to the existence of 
 
Religious Difficulties. 313 
 
 sinfulness, but he was not a severe man, nor of re- 
 pulsive manners ; on the contrary, his singular hu- 
 mility and tenderness, with his great simplicity of 
 address, made him as well fitted as most men to 
 attract the confidence of the closest natures, and to 
 dispel the fears of the most timorous. "Yet," he 
 says, "after all my care I am, in fact, in darkness 
 as to the moral and religious condition of my peo- 
 ple, and I am so for want of being able to use the 
 arm of Confession." No thoughtful opponent will 
 meet this merely with scorn or indignation ; on 
 the contrary, unless Keble exaggerates the incon- 
 venience he complains of, a modest man would be 
 led to doubt whether he himself was living in so 
 much light as to his own parish, as he had before 
 perhaps imagined ; and he might not improbably 
 join, at least, in Keble's regret, however great the 
 countervailing evils of introducing Confession gene- 
 rally might be admitted to be. He might not in 
 the end agree with him on the whole, but he would 
 still have somewhat of a fellow-feeling for him in his 
 avowed difficulty. 
 
 I own I thought Keble did unintentionally exag- 
 gerate his difficulties. I told him so, and that I sup- 
 posed a clergyman, whose cure was of the manage- 
 able size of Hursley, need not and would not be so 
 ignorant of the spiritual condition of his people, as 
 he professed himself to be, if he brought to his task 
 
314 Memoir of the Rev. John Kehle. 
 
 the requisite intelligence, industry, kindness and de- 
 votion ; and that if he did not, it was clear he ought 
 not to be trusted with the delicate and difficult 
 duty of taking confessions. I trusted he would gra- 
 dually find the light dawn on him. In a subse- 
 quent letter, written in 1847, he spoke more cheer- 
 fully :— 
 
 " The Building," says he, speaking of the church, " goes 
 on and gives satisfaction ; and what is a greater comfort, I 
 think the Parish is altogether in a more hopeful state. We 
 have just had a Confirmation, and the young people seemed 
 more in earnest ; and Peter Young is more and more ap*- 
 preciated." 
 
 He speaks here of his excellent Curate, and, as 
 might be expected from him, seems inclined to at- 
 tribute more of the improvement he is thankful for 
 to him than to himself. 
 
 I rather think that feeling the introduction of 
 Confession as a general, or compulsoiy rule, to be 
 hopeless, he did not then enter into the considera- 
 tion of the evils, which even under the wisest ad- 
 ministration of it, seem almost inseparable from it,, 
 or of the abuse to which it is so singularly liable. 
 Perhaps, too, he did not heed this practical objec- 
 tion, that it would be impossible to make every 
 incumbent, as such, confessor of his parishioners ; 
 and that wherever a stranger took that office, as all 
 he knew would be under the seal of secrecy, tlie 
 
Religious Difficulties. 315 
 
 incumbent would remain in the same ignorance in 
 the discharge of his pastoral duty as before. If 
 these matters had been fully considered, he would 
 perhaps have admitted that the question was one 
 of so great difficulty, that it might be wise to ac- 
 cept the present rule, which allows Confession as 
 a voluntary act, and does not make it a part of the 
 ordinary discipline of the Church. On this he him- 
 self acted habitually ; he found it in his own case 
 a comfort and guide, and resorted to it ; and when 
 he was desired, he did not refuse to use it as such 
 to others. 
 
 I will now subjoin the poem which has led me 
 into so long a digression. I might have omitted it,, 
 because I have good reason for expecting that it 
 will be included in the promised publication of his 
 poems, but it is so important, rightly considered, 
 to a full acquaintance with his opinions, that I 
 think it better to give it a place here also. In 
 August, 1844, the Keble family had rhade what 
 Keble calls "a rather ambitious ramble," reaching 
 as far north as Fort William, and among other ex- 
 cursions, says he, "young Tom and I climbed Ben 
 Nevis, much to the aching of my old muscles, but 
 to the great satisfaction of my mind." It was in 
 this tour the incident occurred, which is mentioned 
 in the commencement of the poem. A lady, writing 
 upon good authority, has informed me that in the 
 
3i6 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 course of it he was the guest of Mr. Stuart in the 
 Highlands. Dugald, the host's son, came suddenly 
 into the room where he was, and looking all about 
 him, sorrowfully exclaimed, " My mother is not here." 
 He was much touched by the incident, and wcote on 
 the occasion that which follows : which first bore the 
 title, "The Annunciation," S.John xix. 27. 
 
 Mother out of Sight. 
 
 " Saw ye the bright-eyed stately child, 
 AVith sunny locks so soft arid wild, 
 How in a moment round the room 
 His keen eye glanced, then into gloom 
 Retired, as they who suffer wrong, 
 Where most assured they look and long ; 
 Heard ye the quick appeal, half in dim fear 
 In anger half, ' My mother is not here.' 
 
 " Perchance some burthened heart was nigh, 
 To echo back that yearning cry 
 In deeper chords, than may be known 
 To the dull outward ear alone. 
 What if our English air be stirr'd 
 With sighs from saintly bosoms heard, 
 Or penitents to leaning angels dear, — 
 * Our own, our only Mother is not here.' 
 
Mother out of Sight. 317 
 
 " The murmurings of that boyish heart, 
 They hush with many a fostering art : 
 ' Soon o'er the islands of the West, 
 The weary sun shall sink to rest ; 
 The rose tints fade, that gradual now 
 Are climbing Ben-y- Year's green brow ; 
 Soon o'er the Loch the twilight stars will peer. 
 Then shalt thou feel thy soul's desire is here.' 
 
 4- 
 " Lightly they soothe the fair fond boy ; 
 Nor is there not a hope and joy 
 For spirits that half-orphan'd roam, 
 Forlorn in their far island home ; 
 Oft as in penance lowly bow'd, 
 Prayer like a gentle evening cloud 
 Enfolds them, through the mists they seem to trace 
 By shadowy gleams a Royal Mother's face. 
 
 5- 
 " The Holy Church is at. their side, 
 fvTot in her robes a glorious bride j 
 As Sister named of Mercy mild. 
 At midnight by a fever'd child. 
 Might watch, and to the dim eye seem 
 A white-robed angel in a dream ; 
 Such may the presence of the Spouse appear. 
 To tender trembling hearts, so faint, so dear. 
 
, 3 1 8 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 " The Babe for that sweet Vision's sake, 
 Courts longer trance, afraid to wake ; 
 And we for love would fain lie still, 
 Though in dim faith, if so He will. 
 And wills He not ? are not His signs 
 Around us oft as day declines ? 
 Fails He to bless or home or choral throng. 
 Where true hearts breathe His Mother's evensong ? 
 
 7- 
 " Mother of God, O not in vain, 
 We learn'd of old thy lowly strain ; 
 Fain in thy shadow would we rest, 
 And kneel with thee, and call thee blest. 
 With thee would magnify the Lord, 
 And if thou art not here adored. 
 Yet seek we day by day the love and fear 
 Which brings thee with all saints near and more near. 
 
 " V/hat glory thou above hast won, 
 By special grace of thy dear Son, 
 We see not yet, nor dare espy 
 Thy crowned form with open eye. 
 Rather beside the manger meek, 
 Thee bending with veiled brow we seek ; 
 Or where the angel in the Thrice Great Name 
 Hailed thee, and Jesus to thy bosom came. 
 
Mother out of Sight. 3 19 
 
 9- 
 
 " Yearly since then with bitterer cry 
 . Man hath assail'd the throne on high, 
 And Sin and Hate more fiercely striven 
 To mar the league 'twixt Earth and Heaven. 
 But the dread tie that pardoning hour, 
 Made fast in Mary's awful bower, 
 Hath mightier provd to bind than we to break ; 
 None may that work undo, that Flesh unmake. 
 
 *' Thenceforth, whom thousand worlds adore. 
 He calls thee Mother evermore ; 
 Angel nor Saint His face may see 
 Apart from what He took of thee ; 
 How may we choose but name thy Name, 
 Echoing below their high acclaim 
 In Holy Creeds ? since earthly song and prayer 
 Must keep faint time to the dread Anthems there. 
 
 II. 
 
 •" How but in love on thine own days, 
 Thou blissful One, upon thee gaze ? 
 Nay every day, each suppliant hour, 
 Whene'er we kneel, in aisle or bower, 
 Thy glories we may greet unblam'd, 
 Nor shun the lay by Seraphs framed. 
 Hail Mary full of grace ! O welcome sweet. 
 Which daily in all lands all Saints repeat ; 
 
320 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 12. 
 
 " Fair greeting with our Matin vows, 
 Paid duly to th' Enthroned Spouse, 
 His Church and Bride, here and on high. 
 Figured in her deep purity. 
 Who born of Eve, high Mercy won, 
 To bear and nurse the Eternal Son. 
 O awful Station to no Seraph given. 
 On this side touching Sin, on th' other Heaven. 
 
 13- 
 
 " Therefore, as kneeling day by day, 
 We to Our Father duteous pray ; 
 So unforbidden we may speak. 
 An Ave to Christ's Mother meek. 
 (As children with ' good-morrow' come. 
 To Elders in some happy home,) 
 Inviting so the Saintly Host above, 
 With our unworthiness to pray in love. 
 
 14. 
 " To pray with us, and gently bear, 
 Our falterings in the pure bright air j 
 But strive we pure and bright to be 
 In spirit, — else how vain of thee, 
 Our earnest dreamings, awful Bride ! 
 Feel we the sword that pierc'd Thy side ; 
 Thy spotless lily flower, so clear of hue. 
 Shrinks from the breath impure, the tongue untrue." 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 " LYRA INNOCENTIUM." — CHARLES MARRIOTT'S 
 COLLEGE. — GLADSTONE CONTESTS. 
 
 I COMMENCED what I shall have to say re- 
 specting the Lyra Innocentium in the preceding 
 chapter, but the part which Dyson and I myself 
 took as to two or three of the poems intended to 
 form part of it, led me to enter at once into an 
 account of the difficulties which passed through Ke- 
 ble's mind on the great religious question of that 
 day, and to their final settlement. It seemed to 
 me better to dispose of these at once, and now re- 
 turn to the volume itself, which Keble begged our 
 criticisms upon, and which we passed to the pub- 
 lisher. The volume appeared in April, 1846. The 
 title, which has since been frequently used with dif- 
 ferent additions, was not common then, and probably 
 was suggested by the Lyra Apostolica, to which he 
 had contributed many poems. I may as well state 
 here, though out of place, the little fact, that the 
 title of his great work was taken from the fourth 
 Sermon in John Miller's " Christian Guide ;" he asked 
 his permission for this, which was of course readily 
 accorded. Certainly it was an excellent title for 
 such a work. 
 
 Y 
 
322 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 On the present occasion he did publish his dedi- 
 cation at once, bearing date February in that year. 
 Some people think the Lyra has a dry and hard 
 character; the dedication, at least, is free from this 
 defect ; to me it was perhaps the more touching 
 because I knew How faithful a picture it presented, 
 at once painful and soothing, of the troubles of mind 
 which he had gone through, and of the humble and 
 devotional spirit which was vouchsafed to him to 
 shed its peace on him, at least on this point for 
 the remainder of his life. 
 
 Keble's fame, the just claim which he has to the 
 admiration and gratitude of his countrymen, indeed 
 of the inhabitants of all lands where English is 
 spoken, must rest upon his sacred poetry. He wrote, 
 indeed, many things in prose, of great value, and 
 which alone might have earned him reputation, yet 
 it would have been such only as would have classed 
 him among many other excellent writers. But " The 
 Christian Year" is generally admitted, and I think 
 justly, to have placed him alone, far above all our 
 other sacred poets ; to have made him in truth the 
 sacred poet of the nation. 
 
 I do not expect a general agreement in opinion 
 -with me, when I say that the Lyra Innocentium, if 
 not equal to " The Christian Year," as a whole, is 
 at least more than equal in some parts, and on the 
 whole worthy of its author. Though very successful 
 in comparison with the generality of such works, it 
 
Lyra Innocentiunt. 323 
 
 has not had a circulation at all proportionate to 
 that of " The Christian Year ;" it has not become 
 a manual in general use, and has not consequently- 
 been studied, and is not known in the same degree. 
 I may therefore be excused a few words upon it. 
 
 A dear young friend of mine, a happy young 
 mother, writing to me from New Zealand, calls it 
 a mother's book, and most justly ; it has suffered, 
 I think, by being considered a book for children, 
 properly it is one about children. The title-page 
 says it is " on children, their ways and privileges." 
 It begins with their baptism, (and the Author's be- 
 lief as to that sacrament gives a specific character 
 to the whole,) it follows them through their cradle 
 life, and infancy, their childhood sports, troubles, 
 ■encouragements, and warnings; it unfolds the les- 
 -sons which nature, and the lessons which grace 
 teaches them ; it dwells on their sicknesses, their 
 ■deaths. No one, perhaps, but a parent, can fully 
 •enter into all parts of it, and yet he who wrote it 
 did not marry young, and was never a father. It 
 is matter of wonder how one so circumstanced could 
 ever have known enough of children from infancy 
 to have, written such a volume, yet I am persuaded 
 that the more one has seen of them, the more will 
 the life-like truth of the painting strike one. It will 
 naturally be asked where and how did he acquire his 
 knowledge. First, and above all, I think from his in- 
 tense love for children, and from his feeling about them. 
 
324 Memoir of the Rev. yohn Keble. 
 
 in which the heartiest tenderness was mingled with 
 something amounting almost to reverence. A newly- 
 baptized child was to him an emblem of the most 
 spotless purity of which human nature here below 
 is capable. I never shall forget being present once 
 as godfather, when he baptized a child of Sir Wil- 
 liam Heathcote's. The child, after he had admi- 
 nistered the sacrament, lay in his arms so still and 
 sweet, one might believe it conscious of the blessing 
 it had received. Keble held it in his arms some 
 little time, looking on it with an inexpressible look 
 of delight and love, a tear was in his eye, and he 
 seemed loth to part with it again to its godmother. 
 In 1858 that dear child died, and I will not keep 
 back the letter which he wrote to Miss Baker, his 
 governess, who was in deep distress for the loss of 
 him ; it testifies so strikingly and touchingly to the 
 love and feeling I have been speaking of : — 
 
 " HURSLEY, 
 
 -L^June, 1858. 
 " My dear , 
 
 " I must write a line, tho' I know what poor help one 
 can give in such mournful trials as this; for I have been 
 thinking of you almost as much as of his parents ever since 
 I heard of it ; and if it seems so sad to me to think of not 
 seeing him any more with his dear quiet little ways going 
 in and out with you (he alludes here, I believe, to the daily 
 morning service); how much severer must it be to your 
 affectionate heart. But He who pours the love into the 
 
Lyra Innocentium. 325, 
 
 heart, has ways of His own to make the sorrow that comes 
 •with it tolerable. I make no question, dear Friend, but 
 that you feel this already very much. From what Sir 
 William told me in Saturday's note, there was a treasure 
 of comfortable and happy thoughts and memories which 
 dear little Godfrey was permitted to leave to you all, when 
 he was just going, — a treasure for you to make much of as 
 long as you live. Whatever happens you will always be 
 able to say in humble thankfulness, ' By God's mercy I have 
 been permitted to help in rearing one plant at least, which is 
 now blooming for ever in Paradise, and I am sure (if there 
 is remembrance, and who can doubt it) of being remembered 
 by one at least who is there.' My dear — — , encourage 
 these soothing thoughts, if they come to you ; for surely 
 they are the truest thoughts ; but if you cannot quite enter 
 into the comfort of them as yet, be not too much disheart- 
 ened, bear the dreariness bravely for His sake, and for the 
 dear child's sake, who is now in such sweet rest. Do not 
 trouble to write, but 
 
 " Believe me always, 
 
 " Your loving friend, 
 "J. K." 
 
 When in the volume he speaks to the good child 
 of its blessings, or to the froward one in blame, 
 he constantly recurs to its baptism to think upon, to 
 be grateful for, and to be warned by. Those who 
 dififer with him in his doctrine may yet admire the 
 beautiful illustration of it in the poem entitled, 
 " Guardian Angels," in which he sees in a dream 
 infants brought by their angels to the fount : — 
 
326 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 " There one moment lay immersed, 
 
 Each bright form, and ere it rose, 
 Rose regenerate, light would burst 
 
 From where golden morning glows, 
 With a sudden, silent thrill, 
 Over that mysterious rill ; 
 Ne'er so bright, so gentle, sweep 
 Lightnings o'er the summer deep. 
 
 " In a moment came that ray. 
 
 Came, but went not ; every sprite 
 
 Through its veil of mortal clay. 
 
 Now is drench'd in quickening light ; 
 
 Light, wherewith the seraphs bum. 
 
 Light, that to itself would turn. 
 
 Whatsoe'er of earth and shame 
 
 Mars e'en now the new-bom frame." 
 
 Holy Baftism, Foem 3. 
 
 Then there were his brother's nursery, the chil- 
 dren at the park, the large fine family of his neigh- 
 bour, Dr. Moberly, his own school, where he was 
 a very frequent teacher, his cottage visits, the num- 
 berless opportunities which presented themselves to 
 him in his rambles from hamlet to hamlet, and all 
 these presented to that receptive spirit, and faithful 
 memory, inseparable from the true poetic nature. 
 These may well be thought sometimes to have 
 created, sometimes authenticated, sources of infor- 
 mation, and subjects for meditation, which would es- 
 cape ordinary perceptions. From internad. evidence^ 
 
Lyra Innocentium. 327" 
 
 where direct is wanting, and there is direct evidence 
 in very numerous instances, I believe that had we- 
 the means of tracing, we should find at least a foun- 
 dation in fact for every one of the poems, which pro- 
 fesses to narrate, or comment on an incident. 
 
 I have no doubt he wrote to me the simple truth, 
 when he spoke of the comfort he had received in 
 his anxieties from the composition of these poems ; 
 the thoughts which they suggested took him out of 
 himself, away from his doubts and cares ; he was en- 
 gaged in what was most delightful to him when play- 
 ing with children, teaching them, or warning others- 
 by what they taught himself. And he was seldom 
 more picturesque in his language than when he had' 
 one of these subjects in hand ; what pictures does- 
 he give us for exarhple in this stanza of " Children's- 
 Thankfulness :" — 
 
 " Why so stately, maiden fair, 
 Rising in thy nurse's arms, 
 With that condescending air, 
 
 Gathering up thy queenly charms ; 
 Like some gorgeous Indian bird, 
 Wliich, when at eve the balmy copse is stirr'd, 
 
 Turns the glowing neck to chide 
 Th' irreverent foot-fall, then makes haste to hide 
 
 Again its lustre deep, 
 Under the purple wing, best home of downy sleep." 
 
 It seems to me that not a word could be alterecf 
 in this, except, if indeed it be not too minute cri- 
 
328 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 ticism to remark, that the bird's making haste to 
 hide rather breaks the repose of the remainder of 
 the picture, and is in itself perhaps not quite true 
 to nature. Then, after following the subject through 
 some stanzas, he lifts it up, which he seldom failed 
 to do in his application, in the last stanza : — 
 
 " Save our blessings, Master, save 
 From the blight of thankless eye ; 
 Teach us for all joys to crave 
 Benediction pure and high ; 
 Own them given, endure them gone, 
 Shrink from their hardening touch, yet prize them won. 
 
 Prize them as rich odours, meet 
 For love to lavish on His sacred feet. 
 
 Prize them as sparkles bright. 
 Of heavenly dew from yon o'erflowing well of light." 
 
 Sometimes the poems are exquisitely pathetic ; 
 there are few to be met with an}rwhere more so 
 than the two entitled, " Bereavement" and " Fire," 
 both founded on facts. Mr. Eddis has found in the 
 former subjects for two pictures, of which the en- 
 gravings are well known. The Poet meets two sis- 
 ters in the joyous flower-time of April, the elder 
 leading the younger : — 
 
 " One a bright bud, and one might seem 
 A sister flower half-blown. 
 Full joyous on their loving dream 
 The sky of April shone." 
 
Lyra Innocentium, 329 
 
 He meets them again on a chill and damp Sun- 
 day evening in autumn, but the elder is following 
 the younger to her grave ; the motto to the poem 
 is, "The Lord gave Job twice as much as he had 
 before," and so he cheers the mourner , with his 
 favourite idea of communion with the departed 
 spirit : — 
 
 " What if henceforth by heaven's decree, 
 She leave thee not alone, 
 But in her turn prove guide to thee, 
 In ways to angels known. 
 
 " O yield thee to her whisperings sweet ; 
 Away with thoughts of gloom ! 
 In love the loving spirits greet, 
 Who wait to bless her tomb. 
 
 " In loving hope with her unseen, 
 Walk as in hallowed air ; 
 When foes are strong, and trials keen. 
 Think, 'what if she be there.' " 
 
 The most delicate and ideal artist need not take 
 it amiss to be told that this last was hardly a sub- 
 ject for his art. 
 
 But I forget, while I indulge myself, that I am 
 
 speaking of a volume which has been in many 
 
 hands for more than twenty years, and I must not 
 
 pursue this farther ; at the same time I should add 
 
 , that in some of the poems Keble appears to me to 
 
330, Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 have struck a higher note than he ever reached in 
 " The Christian Year." I instance the " Lifting up to 
 the Cross," "Church Bells," "Easter Day," "The 
 Waterfall," and " The Starry Heavens." Perhaps in 
 some measure from Church associations he was spe- 
 cially fond of the music of church bells in chiming. 
 After a visit to us in October, 1 844, he writes : — 
 
 ** I wish I had a better ear, and truer memory for sounds, 
 that I might recall the church bells of St. Mary Ottery, the 
 one deep tenor at 7I, and then the chimes at \ to 8." 
 
 Eight o'clock was the hour of our daily service iit 
 the morning. 
 
 In the course of our correspondence on the sub- 
 ject of the poems which Dyson and I had recom- 
 mended him to withhold for the present, I had 
 collected that he was rather in want of others to 
 supply their place, and I first suggested to him 
 a passage from St. Augustine's Confessions : " Post 
 at ridere caepi, dormiens primo, deinde vigilans,"" 
 and as he did not seem disposed to write on it, I 
 ventured to do so myself, and he very kindly gave 
 the stanzas a place among the Cradle Songs ; alter- 
 ing, however, my first stanza, in which he thought 
 I had misunderstood my text, and I dare say I 
 had obscurely expressed myself so as tn warrant 
 him. 
 
 " St. Augustine," says he, " seems to me to speak not of 
 a smile in the first sleep, but of the first smile being ii* 
 
Lyra Innocentmm. 331 
 
 sleep, which is a different, and a deeper, and as those who- 
 have experience tell me, a truer idea." 
 
 I afterwards suggested to him another subject 
 from the Confessions ; the passage is to be found in 
 the 8th Book, ii. 6 and 7, in which an analogy is 
 drawn between the lost sheep, the piece of silver, 
 the prodigal son, and, among other things, the dear 
 one of the house recovered from sickness. " It 
 strikes me," I said, "that a child after sickness, in 
 the garden, pale and feeble, yet the object of pecu- 
 liar joy and attentions from brothers, sisters, mo- 
 ther, &c., though less bright and beautiful than any 
 of the circle, with the same application, might suit 
 your purpose well." This hint pleased him, and he 
 wrote the beautiful poem of " Languor" upon it I 
 mention my own suggestion, for it may be worth 
 seeing out of how scanty and rude materials he con- 
 structed so beautiful and so entirely original a poem. 
 
 And now I must leave a subject on which I have- 
 indulged my own feelings too long ; but I am really 
 desirous of obtaining for the Lyra the position which 
 I think it deserves. Let me add my advice to young 
 persons to read it at all events as I have recom- 
 mended " The Christian Year" to be read. Although 
 in the beginning Keble did not write it with refer- 
 ence to the course of our Prayer-book, yet even in 
 the first edition he appropriated certain poems to- 
 certain days, and he subsequently carried tliat idea 
 out through them all. It will be found, I believe,. 
 
332 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 that we shall appreciate them more justly, and enjoy 
 them more, and learn more from them, if we follow 
 the author's guidance as our rule for reading them. 
 
 I forget how Keble had learned that I thought of 
 preparing a review of the Lyra, and offering it to 
 the "Quarterly." He wrote to me on this so cha- 
 racteristic a note, that it is worth inserting here : — 
 
 "As to the Review, I wish you to be entirely guided 
 by your feelings while you are doing it. I mean if you get 
 into a glow as you are about it, and are conscious that you 
 are doing it well, go on with it, and don't spare me ; I 
 shall get a deal more credit by discriminating praise, than 
 by a mere out-pouring of friendship. I must make one 
 bargain with you ; pray don't say a word about me except 
 as a writer. I feel so painfully more and more the deceit- 
 fulness of the C. Y. especially, that I must beg this of you ; 
 though I dare say your own discretion would tell you the 
 same in a general way, yet a word might escape you here 
 and there, were you not under special caution." 
 
 There are some few still living, and among them 
 one very eminent man, who may remember the for- 
 mation of something like a brotherhood, though 
 adopting no such name, to assist the members in 
 the regular discharge of their private religious duties. 
 I mention it now, because it was in the latter part 
 of this year, 1845, that Keble was applied to to 
 draw up, or correct, I forget which, a little code of 
 rules for its guidance. I mention the incident as 
 an instance of the manner in which his help was 
 
Charles Marriott's College. 333 
 
 sought and rendered on many occasions, quite be- 
 yond his ordinary duties. He had lost his own copy, 
 and asked me for mine, which he soon returned with 
 this note : — 
 
 "Dec. I, 1845. 
 " Many thanks for the papers, which I have copied. I 
 don't wonder at your finding great difficulty in acting on 
 them, placed as you are. I, who have, so to say, every 
 advantage, do not, I fear, realize any one of them. Still 
 I think it is good to have them in one's desk, and in one's 
 mind, as tokens of what one wishes and hopes, and as 
 helps towards something better than the present." 
 
 This short notice may recall to the minds of some 
 few, times and thoughts long passed away from their 
 recollection ; the thoughts, I trust, will not have lost 
 their influence, but I hope they will remember not 
 merely the great simplicity and kindness with which 
 Keble dealt with us, but the profound reverence 
 which at that comparatively early period we all felt 
 for him. 
 
 It was about this time that Keble's attention was 
 drawn to a scheme of his friend Charles Marriott 
 for the establishment somewhere of what was com- 
 monly called among the favourers of it a Poor 
 Man's College, the object being to train for Holy 
 Orders the sons of parents who were unable to meet 
 the expense of educating them at the Universities. 
 He was very anxious for the success of such a scheme, 
 Sand he considered attentively two preliminary ques- 
 
.334 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 tions, how to meet the expense, and where to place 
 "the institution. As to the first, it so happened that 
 Mr. Hope's munificent intentions as to a Missionary 
 Training College were then announced, but not car- 
 ried into effect, and Keble was anxious that the two 
 foundations should be consolidated. He pointed out 
 how economy as to both might so be effected, and 
 a greater breadth, and importance, and perhaps effi- 
 ciency, thereby given to both. I cannot now say on 
 what grounds this advice, which seems so reason- 
 able, was rejected. As to the second, he felt the 
 • difficulties which might arise in' placing it at Ox- 
 ford, both as to its inception and its position after 
 •establishment. He had too, as may well be sup- 
 posed, not a very strong confidence in the spirit 
 with which the governing body might regard it ; still 
 he was decidedly for Oxford : — 
 
 " I stick," he \vrote to me, " to my old mumpsimus, that 
 where you can get it, i"most independent, and z""* worked 
 by the best men, there it will answer best, and I am sure 
 Oxford, if you can get it there, (which is surely worth trying,) 
 has both these qualities." 
 
 This opinion prevailed, and the devoted founder 
 actually purchased a site, not I think very wisely, 
 at the top of Headington Hill, near to the spot 
 well known to Oxford men, where stands, or stood 
 at least, Joe PuUen's Tree. But in spite of his own 
 great liberality, and that of others, Marriott's scheme 
 
St. Augustine's Missionary College. 335 
 
 failed for want of funds. And this I cannot now- 
 much regret, for two reasons ; because it seems to 
 me to have been a mistake to limit it to students 
 for the Church only; but even more because that 
 failure left the ground open for a larger, and for 
 what promises, with God's blessing, to be a much 
 more liberal and useful institution, the Keble Col- 
 lege now in progress. It was right to notice this 
 -effort, however, because it enables me to put out of 
 doubt, that if any public tribute were to be made 
 ■to his memory, (of which, however, he would un- 
 doubtedly have thought himself wholly unworthy,) 
 "the institution I speak of is one which, it may be 
 presumed, would have been exactly according to 
 his wish. 
 
 Keble had taken a very lively interest in the 
 foundation of St. Augustine's Missionary College at 
 -Canterbury, — a good work for which we are very 
 aiiainly indebted to the munificence of Beresford Hope. 
 The consecration of the Chapel took place on the 
 last day of June, 1848, and Keble was one of those 
 who attended it. The gathering was a very nume- 
 rous and remarkable one, exceeding considerably the 
 capability of the Chapel to receive it. It was thought 
 necessary to limit the admission to those who had 
 been invited to be present. This gave occasion to 
 3. remarkable demonstration of the love and respect 
 entertained for Keble, of which I have been reminded 
 i>y Canon Venables. I extract from his letter the 
 
336 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 following lively account, which I cannot mend, and 
 therefore insert it, premising that we had been de- 
 sired to assemble in the Hall, a list of our names 
 had been prepared, and this was read out, name 
 by name : — 
 
 " Each person, as his name was called, came forward, 
 and proceeded to take his place in the chapel. You will 
 doubtless remember what a pleasant gathering that was; 
 how old friends, who had not met for years, were brought 
 together, and what a loud buzz of cheerful conversation 
 arose ; as name after name was read out people would look 
 up, especially if it was that of any one distinguished in the 
 ecclesiastical world, — but the conversation went on un- 
 checked. In due course the name of ' the Rev. John 
 Keble' was called, and in a moment there was a deep 
 silence, a silence more impressive than the loudest burst 
 of applause. Every one instinctively drew back to allow 
 free space for Keble to walk down the hall; though all, 
 especially those who, like myself, had never seen the 
 author of the 'Christian Year,' were eagerly bending' 
 forward to catch sight of one to whom we owed so much. 
 In the midst of this hush, through the centre of the open 
 space, rather shyly and awkwardly I thought, as was not 
 altogether unnatural, Keble rapidly passed, almost dis- 
 concerted, certainly surprised; and seemingly not well 
 pleased to find himself the chief object of attraction in an 
 assemblage which comprised so many of the noblest and 
 greatest among the sons and servants of the Church. The 
 contrast between his quiet unpretending form, and the 
 almost awful respect with which, with so spontaneous an 
 impulse, he was received, made a deep impression on me." 
 
Vtstt to St. Breladis, Jersey. 2>17 
 
 Mrs. Keble's severe illness made a change of air 
 and scene expedient for her more early in this 
 year, 1846, than usual, in order to perfect her re- 
 covery, and in the latter part of May they moved 
 to St. Brelade's in Jersey, and remained there un- 
 til towards the end of June. He seems to have 
 thoroughly enjoyed this little place ; I had several 
 letters from him while there, and he wrote of it 
 always with great delight. I had been obliged by 
 ill-health to give up my attendance in court for 
 a Term, and I was sent to Brighton by my friend. 
 Dr. Latham. 
 
 " I wish," he writes, " you could be with us instead of 
 Brighton, and see this gem of a little bay, filled at high 
 water with the bluest possible sea, and at low water half- 
 way with the finest clear sand. On the right a most grace- 
 ful ridge of pinnacled rocks, seeming to reach half-across 
 it ; and on the bank between us and it a curious though 
 not very beautiful Church, the water in high tides washing 
 the Churchyard-wall j with just trees enough to make a 
 frame, both to right and left ; a rock or two, and a vessel 
 or two, in the middle; on the left a bold rocky point, 
 and part of the sweep of a scolloped bay. This for the 
 outside ; and on the inside, Mrs. Keble writing away and 
 professing, (after an early rising and steam voyage, a drive, 
 and two walks,) that she is better able to draw her breath 
 than she has been for a long time," so that by the blessing 
 of God I hope we have found a place which will really do 
 her good." 
 
 To be near the sea, or on it, was always restora- 
 z 
 
33^ Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 tive to her; in a few days after their arrival, they 
 sailed to St. Helier's to meet Dyson, who paid them 
 a visit from Southampton ; the sea was to him for 
 many years what it was to Mrs. Keble ; and the 
 meeting would make it, no doubt, more cheering 
 and beneficial to all three. 
 Again, he says : — 
 
 " This coast has really a store of beauties, which it would 
 take one a long while to tire of; I tell you this^r a secret, 
 for I should be very sorry to get it much belauded among 
 the fashionable people in England; it would be so soon 
 spoiled, if the pleasure-hunters got hold of it. How long 
 "we shall stay I don't know, but I shall be glad to wait 
 till Charlotte has left off coughing; only one does get 
 into such intolerable acquiescence with one's usual habits 
 of idleness." 
 
 They made a short excursion to France while 
 3,t St. Brelade's, and saw Coutance, and soon after 
 returned home. Parting from it so lovingly, one 
 would not have expected that they would never 
 revisit it ; but so I believe it was. On St. Matthew's 
 Day he writes to me in thankful commemoration of 
 'vGod's mercy in having spared so many of those 
 most dear to him in the course of the preceding 
 twelve months. The day before that festival in the 
 preceding year, 1845, he had returned home from 
 .his tour in Cornwall and Devon, and his wife's long 
 and dangerous illness had commenced ; his brother's 
 ^Iso — and he had besides been in much anxiety 
 
Restoration of Hiirsley Church. 339 
 
 about Dr. Pusey, Isaac Williams, and myself — all were 
 now in apparently comfortable health ; all are spe- 
 cially and affectionately enumerated in a letter to 
 me. On Michaelmas Day his brother had a con- 
 secration of an additional church in his parish, which 
 Keble was able to be present at ; and we had that 
 of " the little church" in our parish ; he had beea 
 much interested in our work, and contributed to our 
 funds. We were commencing also the restoration 
 of our venerable Priory Church ; and pressed as he 
 was to provide for his own undertaking, he insisted 
 on throwing back, as he called it, a " ' score of pounds, 
 "towards your far more beautiful work ;' but I fear 
 there is no chance of our being able to afford more, 
 consistently with our plan of devoting ' all profits of 
 trade' to the work here." It conduced to the cheer- 
 fulness with which he ended this year, that there 
 "were " symptoms now of his church work beginning." 
 Materials were being collected on the spot ; it was 
 found that much, if not all the main walls of the 
 old church, so far as the proportions agreed, would 
 only require to be cased, so well and solidly had they 
 been built ; and an alarm about the foundations had 
 turned out to be groundless. 
 
 Yet he opened the year 1 847 in language of the 
 deepest humiliation — language of the kind which 
 I have given specimens of before, but of v/hich I 
 cannot withhold another. My readers will, I feel as- 
 sured, not misunderstand the unintentional exaggera- 
 
340 Memoir of the Rev. John Kehle. 
 
 tion of it ; and it must surely be useful for, many 
 of us, going on in our easy ways, to see with what 
 deep humility such a man regarded his own inward 
 condition. It may serve to damp the self-applause 
 of some, and awaken the slumbrous state of con- 
 science in which too many of us habitually live. 
 
 " Well can I understand from what I see in others, and 
 a great deal too well from myself, the heart-deep truth of 
 every word you say oh the matter of those sermons of 
 Pusey's on ' Sin and Love : ' they are two great depths ; 
 too deep, by far, for our sounding. I suppose our safest 
 prayer would be, that we may be led gradually on to the 
 perception of where we are in respect both of one and the 
 other, and not permitted to dwell on either exclusively. 
 For myself, my inward history is a most shameful and 
 miserable one — really quite different from what you and 
 others imagine ; so that I am quite sure, if you knew it, 
 you would be startled at the thought of coming to such an 
 adviser ; so long and so late has the misery been ; and it 
 ought to be a bitter penance to me to be so consulted. 
 But I believe that I have sinned before now, in drawing 
 back on such occasions, and I hope never to do so again ; 
 use me, therefore, dear friend, such as I am, if I can be of 
 any use to you at any time ; but pray for me, hon&fide, that 
 I may be contrite, for that is what I really need." 
 
 Early in the summer of 1 847, Keble collected and 
 published a volume of " Academical and Occasional 
 Sermons ;" although he contributed many sermons 
 to other collections, and printed now and then some 
 which he had preached for special purposes, this 
 
Academical and Occasional Sermons. 341 
 
 I think, was the only volume which he ever pub- 
 lished. Among other important and remarkable ser- 
 mons, this volume contains that on Tradition, which 
 it seems to me ought to be in every clergyman's 
 library ; which, indeed, few laymen would not find 
 their account in reading. But Keble's special pur- 
 pose in the publication was to quiet uneasy minds 
 in regard to their position in the English Church. 
 And for this purpose he prefixed a preface of some 
 length, prepared with much care. 
 He writes to me on March 4 : — 
 
 " I have been, and am trying, to draw up a kind of view 
 on the present position of English Churchmen, to answer, 
 if it may be, the purpose which Dodsworth talked about 
 that day at your house. Perhaps I may send it you when 
 it is in some sort ended. The form of it would be a pre- 
 face to some sermons.'' 
 
 In the Holy Week following, he says : — 
 
 "What I could,! have written on the R. C. Controvers)^, 
 and the MS. is now in Moberly's hand for him to decide 
 whether it be worth printing ; if he says yes,' I think of 
 sending it to you and a few more in proof, to be criticized, 
 while the Sermons themselves, to which it professes to be 
 a, preface, are printing." 
 
 On April 23, he writes : — 
 
 " Moberly has said imprimatur to my papers for a pre- 
 face, but I have not yet been able to satisfy myself about 
 the Sermons which are to make up the volume. One after 
 
342 Memoir of the Rev. John Kehle. 
 
 another, on which I once plumed myself, seems such stuff 
 when I come to look over it." 
 
 Accordingly the proofs were sent to me, and T 
 ventured to say on them what then occurred to me ; 
 it is worth seeing in what spirit he received sugges- 
 tions. He and Mrs. Keble had been witli us in 
 London in June ; on the 30th he says : — 
 
 " Perhaps you will be able to send those papers with the- 
 shoemaker's parcel ; I mean to add something to the effect 
 that I take on purpose lower ground than might perhaps be 
 taken. I want to shew that waiving all the special points- 
 at issue between the two Churches, a dutiful person ought 
 to stay where he is ; whichever of the two is right on those 
 points. I reserve the question of the Articles and Clerical 
 Communion, about which I still think I was substantially 
 right in my unpublislied letter to you." 
 
 On October 25, when he had received my com- 
 ments, he writes : — 
 
 " Now thank you at least 5 times for the 5 sheets which 
 you have looked over for me. I have used all your sug- 
 gestions, I believe, but one, that of enlarging the part of 
 the argument, where it is maintained that the distinctive 
 Roman tenets are none of them recommended by the same 
 overwhelming proof as our common Christianity. It would 
 have delayed me too long to have verified and exemplified 
 this ; and you know the whole tenour of tlie preface is 
 merely to suggest arguments, not to carry them out. It 
 is all printed that you saw in MS., and a little more ; but 
 the eye gets over it so much more quickly in reading it in 
 type, that it seemed to you less. Of course it might be 
 
Academical and Occasional Sermons. 34.3: 
 
 greatly enlarged ; but I had not the time now, it being ans 
 object on several accounts to get it out without delay ; and 
 if I had ever so much leisure, I think I should still wish the 
 job in the hands of somebody of more learning and dialectic 
 skill. In such hands I really think it might be made a good' 
 deal of; at least, the more I think of it, the more substance- 
 there appears to me in it — but of course it will attract in- 
 tense scorn from opposite parties. I believe I have quali- 
 fied the 2 or 3 passages which you were most afraid of" 
 
 The volume, when published, had not perhaps all 
 the success which it deserved ; it passed, however, to 
 a second edition, and I am informed that it is now 
 being asked for a good deal. Both these facts may 
 well be accounted for : the Preface was addressed- 
 to neither party in the controversy then raging ; and 
 it was natural that neither should find satisfaction 
 in it, the Romanizers on the one hand, or the un- 
 doubting and vehement Protestants on the other_ 
 The argument framed on the Butlerian model pur- 
 posely took low ground, and this itself was of course; 
 a cause of offence, as it has been with many men in./. 
 regard to the model itself. It was assumed that 
 Keble's own convictions rested on these and none 
 other, and the concessions made by supposition and. 
 for the sake of argument were taken for real ad^- 
 missions. Now that the heat of controversy is some-- 
 what lulled (I wish it were more so), the argument 
 may be read and fairly judged on its own hypo- 
 iJiesis. It seems to me a very valuable contributioii. 
 
344 Memoir of the Rev. John Kehle. 
 
 to our theology. Every composition is fairly liable to 
 criticism, both in regard to its design and to its exe- 
 cution, but the latter must be judged with reference 
 to the former. Keble's special design was neither 
 to re-convert those who had already seceded, nor 
 to defend the English Church generally against the 
 Romanist controversialist. His object was to quiet 
 the minds of those, (and no one knew better than he 
 how many they were, nor how worthy of care and 
 comfort,) who in heart desired to be true and loyal 
 to the Church of their Fathers, but in whose minds 
 uneasiness had been excited, either by the example 
 or the publications of seceders, or by scruples which 
 circumstances at the time had given occasion for, 
 and which they were unable to satisfy for them- 
 selves. This seems to me, at least, to have been 
 a definite, and a very sufficient object. Some may 
 wish that he had attempted more. Keble had a 
 just, and no more than a just opinion of the im- 
 portance and difficulty of such a work : he did not 
 think himself equal to dealing with the whole ques- 
 tion commensurately with these ; and he certainly 
 would have shrunk with something like indigna- 
 tion from attempting so to deal with it in a preface 
 or a pamphlet. 
 
 I must leave the execution of his design to the 
 consideration of those who will now read the Preface 
 candidly as a piece of Butlerian argument. One 
 thing, I hope, we shall all be pleased with, his con- 
 
The Gladstone Contests. 345 
 
 elusion in a strain not very usual for a controversial 
 pamphlet, but very characteristic of himself : — 
 
 " May one be permitted (though most unworthy) to offer 
 one concluding suggestion, which will surely be taken in 
 good part by all kind readers of whatever section of the 
 Church ? It is this ; that at one time or another in our daily 
 devotions, we should offer up Our Lord's Prayer, as a prayer 
 in special for Church union : if so be He may graciously 
 accept it, remembering His Own Eucharistical petition, 
 " That they may be One as we are." 
 
 This is followed by the Lord's Prayer, broken up 
 into its several petitions, with an application of each 
 to the special purpose. 
 
 His letters at this time remind me that in this 
 year, 1847, the Gladstone contests for the representa- 
 tion of the University in Parliament commenced. 
 In these he took a very lively interest, perhaps this 
 was to be expected in the beginning ; his own prin- 
 ciples found a more exact representative in Mr. Glad- 
 stone than in his opponent; and he had a much 
 higher opinion of him in his private capacity. But 
 the interest continued unabated to Mr. Gladstone's 
 only and final defeat in 1865. Compared with his 
 successive opponents, Keble always thought there 
 was no ground for hesitation ; he was always in his 
 opinion the best and most creditable representative 
 of the University. Even when, as sometimes hap- 
 pened, he might not have been prepared to follow 
 him in what he had said or done, he still thought 
 
34^ Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 that there being no reason to doubt the honesty and 
 singleness of his intentions, it was unjust and unwise 
 in a private man to withdraw his support of a repre- 
 sentative, because his judgment, probably more in- 
 formed, and guided by a better appreciation of dif- 
 ficulties, differed from his own. All through the series 
 of contests his support was given heartily, I may say 
 affectionately and actively; in the contest of 1852, 
 he wrote to Sir Brook W. Bridges, who was, I believe,. 
 Chairman of Dr. Marsham's London Committee, and 
 an old pupil of his own at Oriel, a letter " On the Re- 
 presentation of the University of Oxford," which is 
 probably now forgotten. Keble, however, does not 
 use merely occasional arguments on an occasional 
 subject ; this letter shews the principles on which 
 he thought it right then to continue his support to 
 Mr. Gladstone, and on which in substance he acted 
 to the end. His support was, I need not say, very- 
 influential on many minds. The issue of the contest 
 in 1865 he deeply lamented. 
 
 I have made an extract from a letter written 
 towards the close of 1846, in which he speaks of his- 
 " church work really beginning ;" this was steadily 
 pursued all through 1847, ^"d until October, 1848, 
 when the church was reconsecrated. 
 
 Writing to Cornish, he says : — 
 
 "II. V.,/tme2,o, 1847. 
 "As for ourselves, we jog on comfortably enough, far 
 more so than one of us deserves : and just now the days 
 
Restoration of Hursley Church. 347- 
 
 are made very short by the pleasure of watching our new- 
 church, how it gra,dually gets on, encasing the old one. 
 I don't know whether you would like it ; I do, as far as it. 
 has gone, very much." 
 
 It was found, wherever the old and new buildings 
 coincided, that the old walls were so well built, that 
 they would need only to be cased in stone ; where- 
 ever it was necessary to build anew, from the differ- 
 ence in size or design, the village masons, under 
 proper direction, laid in the foundations. About 
 Easter, 1 847, he made his contract with Messrs. Locke- 
 and Nesham, "for £z,Z^O, exclusive of these founda- 
 tions, the seats, and other fittings, most of the flooring 
 and windows." And he roughly estimated these at 
 iTi, 200 more. Had he completed his design for the 
 windows, and been at the sole cost, he must have 
 provided a much larger sum than that for this last 
 item alone. For his mind turned with the fondness, 
 of old associations to the numerous and" costly win- 
 dows of Fairford Church ; he did not indeed desire 
 strictly to copy them, the different sizes and cha- 
 racters of the two churches forbidding that ; but 
 he wished to fill all the windows at Hursley with 
 a connected series, according to the general design 
 of that at Fairford. His idea was to carry a kind 
 of sacred history all round the church from the 
 Fall to the Day of Judgment. 
 
 His design was in due time, not exactly, but in 
 some sort, completed ; and only a comparatively 
 
348 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 small portion of the expense fell on him. Mrs. Heath- 
 cote presented one large quasi-transeptal window; 
 Sir William and Lady Heathcote the other ; Lady- 
 Lothian and Lady Bath, each contributed a window ; 
 two I think were provided out of an overflowing 
 offertory on the day of consecration ; and it having 
 occurred to some of his friends that this was a season- 
 able opportunity, and a right mode of testifying their 
 love for him, and admiration of his character, a sub- 
 scription was raised, and applied towards completing 
 what should remain. The management of this fund 
 financially devolved on me, and I regret that I long 
 ago destroyed or lost all the accounts and papers 
 relating to it ; but among my own letters returned 
 to me I have found one, which enables me to state 
 that although the subscribers were numerous, and 
 the sum raised large, it did not suffice for the whole 
 expense; and that I applied, with his sanction, part 
 of the monies paid to me by his publisher from 
 time to time, to make up the deficiency. As the 
 windows would require to be paid for one or two 
 at a time, and sometimes at considerable intervals, 
 I took on me to advance him portions of this fund, 
 as money was needed for the church. It was ar- 
 ranged that for these advances he was to pay in- 
 terest ; but as he had himself to supplement the 
 fund, that arrangement of course fell to the ground. 
 Keble was extremely touched and gratified by this 
 testimony from his friends. He took great pains and 
 
Restoration of H^trsley Church. 349 
 
 interest in the designs first, and in the execution 
 afterwards ; and I mention with pleasure the friendly- 
 part which artists and professional men took in the 
 matter out of respect to him ; Mr. Dyce volunteered 
 help as to designs, and much correspondence took 
 place between the two on the subject ; a more learned 
 and tasteful assistant he could scarcely have had ; 
 Mr. Copley Fielding was a contributor ; Mr. Rich- 
 mond also ; but eventually he had the good fortune 
 to secure the direction and inspection of Mr. Butter- 
 field, a candid but severe judge, who, I remember, 
 was not satisfied in respect of the east window, until 
 the third essay had been made ; two, which were 
 finished and placed, were removed wholly or in part 
 to make way for it. It is but justice to Mr. Wailes, 
 who, I think, executed all the windows, to say that he 
 submitted to his judgment with perfect good temper. 
 The first stone had been laid on May 20, 1 847 ; 
 the consecration, as I have stated, was on Oct. 24, 
 1848. I had the happiness to be present at it with 
 my brother Patteson ; and I rnet a large assemblage 
 of common friends, many whom I had not seen 
 for many years, some whom I saw then for the last 
 time ; in the retrospect of such meetings there is 
 usually, I think, more of sober pleasure than of 
 sorrow. The numbers who assembled at an early 
 service in the Barn which had been used as a tem- 
 porary church, and afterwards at the church itself, 
 were large ; and in my memorandum, made at the 
 
.35° Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 time, I perceive that I noted with pleasure the due 
 proportion of smock-frocks among the congrega- 
 tion. Our only drawback, and a serious one it was, 
 was the ill-health and suffering looks of Sir William, 
 who, however,, although unable to go through all 
 the services and fatigues of the day, opened his house 
 "to a very large number of the guests, and entered 
 into the feeling of the day heartily. In the memo- 
 randum to which I have already referred, I see I note 
 " the sweet state of humble happy thankfulness" in 
 which Keble and his wife appeared to be ; it was 
 happiness to him to see assembled at the Vicarage, 
 which was full to overflowing, so many whom he 
 dearly loved, and who so cordially sympathized with 
 him ; but it was, as I called it truly, " humble and 
 happy thankfulness," with which he regarded the 
 -completion of his long-cherished, long-laboured de- 
 sign — the erection of a church according to his means, 
 suitable for the worship of God, and in advancement 
 of the best interests of his parishioners. The money, 
 a large sum for him, nearly, if not quite, double 
 the amount specified in the first limited contract, 
 was perhaps the least part of what it had cost him ; 
 everything, from the first materials to the last finish 
 even of the minutest article in the ornamentation, 
 had his personal care bestowed on it. I remember 
 specially admiring the aptness of the several texts 
 with which the steps from the entrance of the church 
 to the altar were faced ; and the same attention to 
 
Restoration of Hursley Church. 351 
 
 ■fitness was to be observed in every part of the 
 church. There was no stained glass in the win- 
 dows then, but, as I noticed at the time, we 
 ■scarcely missed it. It is but just to say that Mrs. 
 Keble participated most heartily in his care first, 
 ^nd delight afterwards, and was, in heart at least, 
 a willing contributor to the expense incurred. 
 
 The completion of the tower, and the addition of 
 a beautiful spire, were subsequently accomplished 
 by Sir William ; and I scarcely know any parish 
 church where the spire is so beautiful an object 
 from so many points as this. Keble, at the request 
 •of the builder, mounted to the summit, and with his 
 ■own hand placed the last stone on it, when that 
 finishing act was to be done, not, as he told my in- 
 formant, without fear of a fall. 
 
 He was happy and thankful. But it was during 
 the progress of the work that the state of affairs in 
 the Church weighed heavily on his spirits ; he says, 
 -writing to me in May about his building : — 
 
 " Meantime I try to make up my mind to that which 
 ■seems to me, considering all things, every day more and 
 ;more likely, viz. that I shall not myself ever do duty in. 
 'that church ; at least, so it seems to be agreed by those 
 ■who are at present in authority, and nobody speaks a word 
 against it. Nevertheless, I suppose it is one's duty to go 
 on just as if all were encouraging. I know, at least, whose 
 fault it chiefly is, if one could but have the heart so to 
 
352 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 take it: and that I hope one's friends will be so good 
 as to ask for one. But enough of that." 
 
 This was the year in which Dr. Hampden was 
 placed as Bishop in the See of Hereford, Keble 
 and he had been brother fellows of Oriel, and per- 
 sonally he had a great regard for him. It was, 
 therefore, a painful duty to him to take part in the 
 proceedings which were instituted to prevent his 
 Confirmation ; abortive they were ; but they had the 
 effect, at all events, of calling attention to the need- 
 less and shockingly profane mockery which the law 
 enforces in the election and confirmation of bishops ; 
 and it may be hoped, that some day it will turn 
 out that in this respect, at least, those proceedings 
 were not wholly useless. 
 
 Keble's apprehensions, however, it must be ad- 
 mitted, were exaggerated, not only for himself, but 
 for the Church. He was not only able to remain 
 the Incumbent of Hursley to his death, with the 
 good assent, I believe, even of those who differed 
 from him most widely in opinions ; but the Church 
 of England has maintained, I will not say the posi- 
 tion which he thought she ought to hold, and those 
 who think with him desire she should, but one at 
 least as near to it, as he had seen her in possession 
 of at any time in his life. 
 
 For himself personally, he was an object of general 
 
Accident at Winchester. 353 
 
 love and admiration, without respect to any religious 
 differences. And this was strikingly manifested on 
 occasion of an accident which befel him in the Close 
 at Winchester in November, 1847. He always spoke 
 of the exceeding kindness then shewn to him, espe- 
 cially I think by Canon Woodrooffe, but generally by 
 the residents there. He was driving with Mr. Rogers, 
 a brother of Sir F. Rogers, and, as he says, " by a 
 very foolish piece of carelessness" of his own, the 
 carriage was run away with, and both of them 
 thrown out. It was owing, he says, "to a very- 
 merciful Providence," that they escaped with their 
 lives. He was laid up for a short time, but no ma- 
 terial injury was in the end sustained by either. 
 
 A a 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 SHOULD KEBLE HAVE BEEN PREFERRED TO DIG- 
 NITY IN THE CHURCH. — TOUR IN WALES, AND 
 VISIT TO IRELAND, 184O. — TOUR IN SCOTLAND, 
 1842. — UNDERTAKES TO WRITE LIFE OF BISHOP 
 WILSON. — VISIT TO ISLE OF MAN, 1849. — MAR- 
 RIAGES WITH SISTER OF DECEASED WIFE, 1 849, 
 —SECOND VISIT TO MAN, 1852. — TRIP TO SKYE, 
 
 I HAVE ventured to intimate an opinion at the 
 close of the preceding chapter that Keble some- 
 ;times allowed himself to indulge too much in what 
 : might almost be called a querulous foreboding as 
 to the Church of England, and the utterances of 
 . a severe spirit against the proceedings of the autho- 
 : rities both in Church and State in regard to mea- 
 sures affecting Her ; and that in the intensity and 
 single-mindedness with which he pursued a principle, 
 ¥he scarcely made due allowance for the difficulties 
 -which beset those in high places. It will be under- 
 stood, I hope, or injustice would be done him, that 
 this mode of thinking and speaking was by no means 
 extended to persons ; if in a moment of irritation he 
 said or wrote anything "scornful," (as he called it,) 
 of any one, he would be seriously angry with him- 
 
Keble not Promoted. 355^ 
 
 self, and add probably some severe term of general 
 self-condemnation. 
 
 I have mentioned the intensity of his spirit as one 
 cause of what I remark on, and I may add that as 
 years passed on, the authority of his character so 
 deepened, and the greater part of those with whom 
 he lived, and of whom he saw most, had such a re- 
 verence for him, that his opinions were seldom can- 
 vassed with that freedom in conversation with him- 
 self which is good for the wisest of men. For 
 myself I liked, I confess, to express my occasional 
 ■oppositions to him in my correspondence, rather 
 than in conversation ; I could do so more freely, 
 .although I always felt not merely the superiority 
 of his intellect, but of his knowledge on most of the 
 subjects we discussed. But I remember conversing 
 with Dyson on some matter, "Synods" I believe, 
 on which Keble and I had differed. He happened 
 ±0 agree with me, " But then," said he, " when Keble 
 is with me discussing such things, he is so earnest, 
 and I have such a feeling, that one with so much 
 holiness, as well as learning and ability, must be 
 right, that I succumb at the time to arguments 
 -and assertions, which, when I think them over after- 
 wards, do not always satisfy my reason, or my ac- 
 quaintance with history." And then adverting to 
 the subject of discussion, in reference to Keble's 
 argument, he added, what I have recollected ever 
 since, " In such matters we ought not to be fet- 
 
356 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 tered by the forms and precedents of antiquity, but 
 should look to the spirit and to the circumstances 
 of respective ages ; never losing sight of these latter, 
 making them indeed our pole-star, but dealing re- 
 spectfully, yet not servilely, with the forms." 
 
 No one, moreover, could be more hearty, or hum- 
 ble in his expressions of thankfulness for personal 
 kindness, or of commendation, where any measure 
 seemed to him taken wisely, or pursued in a right 
 spirit, even by those from whom he very commonly 
 differed in judgment. 
 
 But I should not write sincerely, if I did not say 
 that there were some things said and done which 
 might well wound him in the tenderest part. " The 
 sorrow of his life," as I have called it, the loss, 
 namely, to the Church, and to himself, of his dearest 
 friend, he attributed in good measure, and I think 
 with too much justice, to the conduct systematically 
 pursued towards him ; and it was but an embitter- 
 ment when men with much coarseness and little 
 wisdom of spirit pointed to the result as a justifi- 
 cation of their course of conduct. And this was 
 not uncommonly done by those who seemed little 
 able to trace the complex motives which often 
 operate to produce human actions, sometimes even 
 without the consciousness of the doers of them. This, 
 however, is a subject on which I can do no more than 
 touch for obvious reasons. 
 
 Beyond this, however, which wounded him so 
 
Keble not Promoted. 357 
 
 deeply, it must be remembered that he thought 
 sincerely that vital doctrines of the Faith, and the 
 Catholicity of the Church were, at least, endangered 
 more than once by things allowed, or sanctioned 
 by, sometimes even directly proceeding from, those 
 in Her high places. No interests were dearer to 
 him than those involved ; he might be wrong in his 
 opinions, but he had, at least, a right to hold and 
 to express them ; for no one could impute that he 
 took them up hastily ; or that he had not thought 
 and read deeply on the subjects to which they re- 
 lated ; or that he had any but the purest motives 
 in his advocacy of them. 
 
 Dignities in the Church, I think, never entered 
 into his contemplation for himself. I cannot re- 
 collect in all our correspondence, or in our most 
 intimate conversations, a single expression which 
 pointed that way ; and I believe that, if they had 
 been offered, they would have been declined. 1 
 have, perhaps, no right to express an opinion on 
 this subject, except to say in fairness that it must 
 have been so gratifying, and obviously so popular 
 a thing to exercise the power of patronage in his 
 promotion, that independently of all personal con- 
 siderations, a strong presumption arises that the ab- 
 staining from it, whether wise or not, was strictly con- 
 scientious. Yet I cannot but believe that it would 
 have been good for Keble, good for both parties 
 in the Church, and what is more to the purpose, 
 have conduced to the holding of opinions with more 
 
3 S 8 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 charity, if honours had been offered to and accepted 
 by him. A long experience confirms me in think- 
 ing that where persons oppose each other honestly, 
 however decidedly, in belief or opinion, the cause of 
 truth, which commonly lies between both, and of 
 charity, without which even truth itself can scarcely 
 be maintained truly, is greatly served by the neces- 
 sities, the softening and enlightening necessities, of 
 personal and official communion. Rarely, indeed, 
 do fallible men hold the truth without some ad- 
 mixture of error, and even where they hold to that 
 which is error in the main, commonly this is miti- 
 gated, morally at least to the individual, by some 
 infusion of truth in particulars. Moreover, in the re- 
 ligious differences of Christians there must be much, 
 and of importance too, which is common ground ; 
 and where honest men are compelled by their posi- 
 tion to act together in some common duty, or with 
 regard to some common interests, this ground be- 
 comes more apparent, and is estimated more justly 
 as to its importance. These are general considera- 
 tions ; but in regard to Keble it is not the over- 
 weening fondness of friendship, I feel sure, which 
 makes me say that there were exceptional consi- 
 derations also which ought not to have been with- 
 out weight; as his was a nature so humble, and 
 so loving, that personal influences would have spe- 
 cially touched and softened his heart, so were his 
 claims and merits so undeniable, and so remarkable, 
 that to pass him over was in effect not merely to 
 
Keble and his Curate. 35^ 
 
 ignore them, but to imply in some measure a con- 
 demnation of him. 
 
 I have mentioned that Mr. Wilson, the first In- 
 cumbent at Ampfield, was the first Curate of Ke- 
 ble's appointment at Hursley. This connection was 
 the commencement of an intimate friendship be- 
 tween them which ended only with Keble's life. 
 Mr. Wilson has been kind enough to furnish me 
 with many of Keble's letters, which, among other 
 things, uniformly disclose the delightful footing on 
 which the Vicar and Curate stood towards each 
 other. The first letter in which the Curacy is of- 
 fered, gives the tone to all that follow; at that 
 time Mr. Wilson was comparatively a stranger ; but 
 nothing can be more open, or considerate, or kind ;.. 
 and the series shews how pleasant that relation 
 may be made to the parties, how instructive to- 
 the younger, how beneficial to the parish. When- 
 ever Keble was absent, he received minute accounts- 
 of everything which occurred in the parish, of im- 
 portance for him to know, and especially of every 
 sick, or offending parishioner. It is obvious from 
 his answers that he maintained not merely the in- 
 terest, which was of coui'se with him, but such 
 a knowledge in detail of all that required his ad- 
 vice, or interference, that he might almost be said to 
 be present in directing or sanctioning whatever it 
 might be necessary to do. I reserve some parti- 
 culars as to this matter for a later stage in my 
 
360 Memoir of tJte Rev. John Keble. 
 
 work, but I mention these letters now, because hav- 
 ing anticipated events in order to complete at once 
 what I had to say respecting the new church, I 
 go back and shall be indebted to them for some 
 facts which seem worth mentioning, especially as 
 Keble will be himself for the most part the nar- 
 rator of them. 
 
 He did not willingly take leave of absence from 
 Hursley, but there were few years from about the 
 period of his life at which I am now arrived, in 
 which Mrs. Keble's delicate health, and indications 
 of lassitude or weakness, rather than absolute failure 
 in his own, did not make a change of air and scene 
 for her, with relaxation from his work for himself 
 desirable, if not necessary ; and so he commonly 
 left home for some few weeks in the summer; and 
 this I think he would scarcely have consented to, 
 unless he had felt perfect confidence in the substi- 
 tute, upon whom the care of the parish devolved in 
 his absence. 
 
 Perhaps I have mentioned before, that in 1840, he 
 was in North Wales, and stayed some days at Bar- 
 mouth. Thence he made his way by Harlech to 
 Tan-y-bwlch, and so hy Bedd-gelert to Llanberis, 
 Carnarvon, and Beaumaris. From this last place 
 he writes to Mr. Wilson. He passed a Sunday at 
 Llanberis, and describes it thus. So many years 
 have elapsed, and matters, I dare say, are now so 
 much mended, that I may print the account with- 
 
Tour in Wales. 361 
 
 out fear of giving pain to any one. The date is 
 August 19, 1840: — 
 
 "This imphes our being at home by Sunday, the 14* 
 Sept", at the very farthest. It is an unconscionably long 
 absence, but if it really sets up my wife with tolerably good 
 health against the winter, it is perhaps one's duty to stay 
 out even that long time. And I cannot but say it is very 
 pleasant I enjoy Wales and the Welch, the mountains, 
 and shores, and waterfalls, of all things ; but I am afraid I 
 shall come home without going up either of the great moun- 
 tains. And I have an unpleasant feeling that my time 
 passes away very quick in proportion to the work I do ; 
 there is always some wonderment or other to hinder either 
 reading, writing, or thinking, and yet one feels that such 
 objects as Snowdon, whether far or near, ought to make 
 one think to the best purpose. One thing I really imagine 
 one does leam by travelling in Wales, and that is to realize 
 in earnest the present condition of the Church in G. Britain. 
 E.g. last Sunday we were staying at the nearest good Inn 
 we could find to Snowdon, and we found, that in the Parish 
 Church (of Llanberis), there was but one service, varying 
 in time from 11 J to I5, the Clergyman living 6 miles off, 
 and no one knowing which the hour would be, the parish 
 perhaps 15 miles long. So we went at 11, that we might 
 have plenty of time to look about us. When we got there, 
 we sent our car away, and wandered a little up the glen, 
 which, as I dare say you know, is most romantic, till we 
 heard the Church Bell. We hastened back and found that 
 in the Church was going on, not service, but a sort of school 
 of adult Welchmen, and some children, who seemed to be 
 learning to read, and saying a sort of catechism to a man 
 whom I much suspected of acting sometimes as Teacher ia 
 
362 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 a different sort of place about 200 yards from the Church, 
 it was all Welch. However, we went in, partly for shelter, 
 as it begun to be cold and drizzling, and the people seemed 
 very little put out by our being there. After a time they 
 had finished their work, and went home, I suppose, to 
 dinner, the man first saying a prayer in Welch, with seem- 
 ingly much grave devotion. We were left in the Church 
 alone, and so had time to read the best part of the service 
 together in English, during the latter part of which some 
 children were watching us, but behaved very well. At last, 
 a good deal after one o'clock came the Parson, put us into 
 a pew, and the regular service proceeded. There were but 
 few persons, and the singing was much inferior to what we 
 have generally heard in Welch Churches, but all was to 
 the ear very unaffected and solemn ; and to the eye also, 
 except the extreme dirt and negligence of the old Church, 
 and all its appointments ; it is very old, standing a far better 
 chance, I imagine, of belonging to the 7* Century, than 
 most of those whereof our friend S did so vaunt him- 
 self; and it is a very handsome plan of a church, a long 
 nave with a triple Chancel, and a large and old font at the 
 West End ; the stone so massive, with such varied rough- 
 nesses and weather-stains, as almost to give the effect of 
 architecture by itself It is a good deal the worse for 
 Churchwardenizing ; but that is nothing to the dirty dis- 
 respectful condition in which the whole of it is left, — ^from 
 the tottering three-legged Communion-Table, which stands 
 so near the rails, that a man leaned his hands on it to say 
 his prayers, when he first came into Church, to the tumbled 
 frill of the Minister's Surplice, every thing shewed a con- 
 sistent dislike of soap, and of ecclesiastical decency. One 
 thing only was satisfactory, the seats of the people were as 
 dirty and uncomfortable as anything else. And all tliis in 
 
Visits to Ireland and Scotland. 363; 
 
 the midst of the most glorious sights and sounds in nature- 
 Well, good-bye. God mend us all. Your ever affectionate, 
 
 J. K." 
 
 T'rom Wales they crossed to Ireland, "Went on. 
 board at 7, and woke up in Kingston Harbour in 
 a most exquisite calm moonlight at if." Their 
 direct object was a short visit to Mr. Trench, near 
 Athy, and they seem to have well employed their 
 time for a few days in seeing much that was in- 
 teresting. He writes again from Tan-y-bwld on the 
 30th of August, in his way to Bisley and home. 
 They reached the latter safely, and much refreshed, 
 and I think Mrs. Keble's health occasioned no move- 
 ment from home for any length of time during the 
 remainder of that or all the following year. 
 
 In the summer of 1842, he went to Scotland, and 
 it is worth while to insert here parts of a letter to 
 Mr. Wilson, dated from Edinburgh on the 29th of 
 July ; a great deal of it is taken up in minute direc- 
 tions about persons and things in Hursley, but much 
 relates to his tour. If he had been scandalized at 
 the outward appearance of things relating to the 
 Church in Wales, it was to be expected he would 
 be not less so at what he saw in Scotland ; even 
 the contrast of the past, which beautiful ruins pre- 
 sented to his eye, made the present more distressing 
 to him. His language is strong, but it must be re- 
 membered that he is writing in the freedom of in- 
 timate correspondence. He calls it at the close of 
 his letter, " a spit of toad-like venom." 
 
364 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 " We came here," he says, " yesterday, from Melrose, by 
 way of Abbotsford and Peebles, to which latter we turned, 
 expecting to meet a coach, but were too late for it. I have 
 been more struck with this place even than I expected, and 
 only wish I could kick down their heathen Parthenon, and 
 put a true Church in its place, a York or Lincoln of the 
 best proportions. As yet I have scarce seen any thing but 
 from this window, for we found so many letters and proof- 
 sheets waiting here, that we have not yet done our neces- 
 sary morning's work in answering them. But I think of 
 calling on Mr. Ramsay, not only as you seemed to wish 
 it, but also because I want to get into some Library to 
 get some of the sheets corrected. The Kirks, and the 
 manner in which they deiile and insult the sacred places, 
 e.g. Jedburgh Abbey, are even more horrid than I had ex- 
 pected. I would not be in one of them at service time on 
 any consideration. They proclaim aloud, every inch of 
 them, 'down with the altar.' The true churches, except 
 the ruins, seem few and far between ; they told me at Mel- 
 rose, there was none nearer than Kelso, or Peebles, but I 
 suspect I saw a new one at Galashiels. 
 
 "Last Sunday we were at Carlisle, which bids fair be- 
 fore long to be a Kirk instead of a Church, according to 
 appearances ; a beautiful Choir, most slovenly served and 
 attended ; no one but ourselves, and one lady with 2 or 3 
 more strangers on St. James' Day. I was greatly disap- 
 pointed there altogether. Temporally, I do not know when 
 I have seen so thriving a country as these Lowlands ; the 
 little manufacturing towns on our road, though ratlier com- 
 plaining, seemed still to have work ; and the tillage seemed 
 to surpass any thing I ever saw. Between Kelso and Jed- 
 burgh they were reaping barley, and the com crops are 
 spoken of as excellent. But the great delight is to see the 
 places one has read so much of in W. -Scott. We went by 
 
Visit to Scotland. 365 
 
 Kelso, that we might see Sandyknow, where, you know, he 
 was at nurse, and I am very glad we did so; we called 
 also at Dryburgh in our way to Melrose, and Abbotsford, 
 and passed by Asliestiel in our way to Peebles ; in short, 
 we seem to meet him everywhere as we did Wordsworth in 
 the Lake Country. We have missed Yarrow, which I was 
 sorry for, but the weather was unpromising yesterday morn- 
 ing. As to Melrose, I like it altogether the best of any 
 ruin I ever saw; but surely something bad must happen 
 to the Scots for resisting so many years the witness which 
 such places bear against them. The scrolls, and the few 
 images which remain, are most beautiful circumstances in 
 it. I suspect the Presbyterian Teacher there is afraid of 
 the effect of the Abbey on people's minds, as he has built 
 up a high wall in his garden to obstruct the view where he 
 could. It was comfortable in the Lake Country to see so 
 many good new churches, and to hear the people every- 
 where talk so kindly of the Squires and Parsons ; also to 
 hear old Wordsworth, how he kept falling back on Church 
 Matters, whatever other subject was started. . . I conclude, 
 sending you all good wishes, and among the rest, that we 
 may soon meet again ; although I must own the Grampian 
 Peaks looked very tempting to-day from Mons Meg. Ever 
 affectionately yours. J. K." 
 
 Wordsworth and Walter Scott were objects of his 
 most affectionate admiration ; how he testified this, 
 aS to the former, I have already mentioned ; and as 
 to the latter, I ought to refer my readers to a well- 
 known article by him in the " Biitish Critic S" on 
 
 " I take the opportunity, which this mention of the "British Critic" 
 gives me, to express a. strong desire, felt not by myself alone, but by 
 many others, whose opinions are of more authority, to see published 
 
366 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 Lockhart's Life of him, remarkable not only for its 
 ability, but for the loving and ardent spirit in which 
 it is written. In spite of the strong language in his 
 letter, he retained a very kindly recollection of his 
 tour, and of Scotland. Writing to Mr. Wilson in 
 1846, who was then in that country, he says : — 
 
 " You will get this at Monteviot I hope. How pleasant 
 it is to have such a home feeling about so many of the 
 places you go to. Remember us most kindly to your 
 hostess, and to your travelling Tutor. I wonder if you 
 will like Jedburgh Abbey, and Ferniehurst, (if you see it,) 
 as well as we did." 
 
 I ought to have mentioned before this, that Keble 
 had lent his aid to some friends who were associated 
 together for the purpose of editing a Library of 
 Anglo-Catholic Theology. This seemed to him a 
 cognate scheme to that of the Library of the Fathers, 
 and he joined in it heartily, served effectively on the 
 
 a collection of, or judicious selection from, Keble's contributions to 
 Periodicals. Of these the most important will be found in the "British 
 Critic," when it was issued quarterly: but I believe his earliest pub- 
 lished writings were in the " British Critic" when it was a montlily 
 review, and .under the direction of my friend, the Rev. Thomas 
 Rennell, Vicar of Kensington ; one of these, on Bishop Horsley, lives 
 in my recollection, as specially chai'acteristic of hunself, such as he 
 was to his latest day ; but I do not possess it, nor caii I refer to it. He 
 contributed also, in 1825, a paper on Sacred Poetry at my request to 
 the "Quarterly Review," which will be found in vol. xxxii. p. 211. 
 This of course has a special value ; but I may say generally, that when 
 he wrote only occasionally ;and anonymously, he vsrote as carefully and 
 conscientiously as when he was more directly responsible ; and I cannot 
 but think the publication I desire would be very valuable, and very 
 accept-ible to the public. 
 
Visit to the Isle of Man. 367 
 
 Committee, and personally undertook to superintend 
 the publication of a complete edition of Bishop Wil- 
 son's works, to be preceded by a Life of the Author, 
 which he promised to write. The Bishop was a spe- 
 cial favourite of his, and he entered on the work 
 heartily ; but many interruptions retarded the exe- 
 cution of his promise, and the Life was not finished 
 •until 1863. What there may be to say about it, I 
 -will reserve for the present ; and I mention it now 
 mainly, because, in 1849, he was induced by it to 
 make his summer sea excursion for Mrs. Keble's 
 benefit a trip to the Isle of Man, that he might 
 procure information on the spot, and see the places 
 in which the Bishop lived and acted for so many 
 years of his life. The "scheme answered very well 
 both for her, and his own object. He was much 
 amused, and returned refreshed in body and mind. 
 Writing to me on various matters on September 26, 
 after he had reached Hursley, he says : — 
 
 " I have lots to say about Mona, and Bishop Wilson, 
 but cannot now go on with it ; the tour was a very pleasant, 
 .and on the whole not an unsuccessful one. The Bishop 
 very kind and hospitable, and as off-hand as Lloyd used 
 to be. The clergy a nice set, but rather Wesleyanized." 
 
 I believe Lord Auckland will not be offended at 
 this free comparison of him with Bishop Lloyd ; in 
 Keble's mouth it meant a great compliment, for the 
 Bishop of Oxford was one in whom he delighted ; 
 
368 Memoir of the Rev. yohn Keble. 
 
 nor I trust will the clergy of the Island, should any 
 of them chance to see it, be scandalized at his re- 
 mark on them. 
 
 It was while he was in Man that he received in- 
 telligence of the death of George Cornish's eldest 
 daughter, and I shall be forgiven for inserting the 
 letter which he wrote to the afflicted parents ; it has 
 to me a special and mournful interest from the re- 
 collection that within a month from the date of it, 
 the father to whom it was addressed, himself sunk 
 under his many trials : — 
 
 " Douglas, I. of Man. 
 August 22, 1849. 
 " My dearest George, 
 
 " We got your letter here only last night, and it was a sort 
 of stunning blow to me, for somehow I had grown to be 
 sanguine about dear Essy's recovery; and in many ways 
 it comes very near one. God grant that when one's own 
 turn comes, (who knows how soon ?) one may leave as 
 little cause of anxiety to those who shall survive, as she 
 has now left ; and if pain, like her's, be needful to prepare 
 us, may He in His mercy send it, and give us grace to bear 
 it. You know, dear friends, that our thoughts are very 
 much with you, and those of one of us at least, to good 
 purpose. We shall be anxious for the next account of 
 you all, but don't trouble yourselves to write ; let it come 
 through Bisley, where we hope to be, one or both of us, in 
 the course of the next week. It is comfortable to think 
 of your being so many, so loving and dutiful, and of the 
 help you will be of to one another ; and I need not say to 
 you, because you must know it full well, how desirable it 
 
Visit to Lyme Regis and Sidmouth. 369 
 
 is to lose no time in using yourselves to speak freely and 
 calmly to one another of those who are out of sight, as 
 though they were, as they are, only out of sight. I am 
 more and more thankful that dear Robert is with you. Do 
 take all care of yourselves, and let him take care of you. 
 What a treasure to their Father, and to you, must be those 
 little children. May they prove so more and more. 
 
 "We hope to get back to England to-morrow, and to 
 Bisley, or Hursley, by the end of next week. Here we 
 have been living, as it were, under the shadow of Bishop 
 Wilson's wing ; and surely it is a thing for which we ought 
 to be the better. 
 
 " C. sends her loving remembrances to you all, especially 
 to dear Kenie. May we all love one another the better for 
 each one of us who is taken to the Home of Love. 
 
 " Ever your most aff '^, 
 "J. K." 
 
 I have spoken already, in my notice of George 
 Cornish, of his death in September of this year, 
 and how Keble mourned for his loss ; his feelings 
 towards all that generation of the Cornish family 
 were those of a very fond elder brother ; and the 
 affection towards his widow, and all that remained 
 of another generation, continued unabated. Indeed, 
 it was strengthened by the engagement of his bro- 
 ther's only son, whom he regarded as his own, to 
 her to whom special remembrances are sent by the 
 name of Kenie ; and in 185 1 he married them at Sal- 
 combe. He went to Sidmouth for the purpose, and 
 as he had so often done before, he coupled with this 
 
 Bb 
 
370 Memoir of the Rev. John Kehle. 
 
 the benefit of a sea-side visit, and change of air for 
 Mrs. Keble. They re-visited Lyme Regis for a while 
 before going on to Sidmouth, from which last place 
 they came to us at Ottery for a few days. He and 
 I were much together alone, and a great delight it 
 was to have again that sort of intercourse with him. 
 He was in good spirits, and no one, when he was in 
 spirits, could be a more delightful companion. They 
 returned home towards the end of September. Writ- 
 ing to me, when the wedding party broke up, to fix 
 .the day of his coming, he says : — 
 
 " It was a very happy wedding, as far as we can judge, 
 and I am in good hope that it has done much good to poor 
 dear Harriet ; it was very touching to see her in her mourn- 
 ing, and to look round the room, and remember things and 
 people. I will do as I am bidden about Sunday, and shall 
 .be really glad, if I can save Henry a little, for I dare say 
 .Tie over-works himself. But somehow or other, my sermons 
 ■seem more and more disagreeable on a second preaching." 
 
 I like to dwell, and perhaps I dwell too much, on 
 these passing expressions ; they disclose so naturally 
 .the tenderness and simplicity of his character; and 
 "J note here what was observed of him repeatedly in 
 later life, how he liked to preach when from home 
 and he had the choice, in a small country church 
 to the simplest congregation, rather than to a large 
 number in a church of more display. 
 
 It was in this year, 1849, that the measure of 
 legalizing the marriage of widowers with the sisters 
 
MaiTiage with Deceased Wife's Sister. 371 
 
 of their deceased wives was vigorously pressed in 
 Parliament, and out of it. Keble felt very strongly 
 upon this matter, and he opposed it earnestly, per- 
 severingly, and effectually ; by his personal influence, 
 -wherever he had opportunity to exert it, by framing 
 and circulating petitions against the Bill, and by the 
 publication of a vigorous pamphlet. He relied on 
 the authority of the Church uniform and consistent, 
 on Scripture, on the tendency of such unions to impair 
 the holiness of marriage, to disturb the peace, and 
 corrupt the purity of social life. Some Hebraists 
 and theologians have questioned the interpretation 
 of Scripture which he adopted. It rests, I under- 
 stand, on great authorities, and seems very consonant 
 with common sense ; and he believing in it, of course 
 could not pass it by. I confess it always seemed 
 to me that the last grounds were abundantly clear, 
 and in themselves quite sufficient for his argument; 
 and because they were more easily understood and 
 appreciated, the best on the whole for the generality 
 to rely on. Keble also pointed out the indirect and 
 personal motives to which the movement was owing ; 
 its onesidedness as to the sexes ; and also how un- 
 truly it was urged that the alteration of the law was 
 at all generally desired by English women. The at- 
 tempts to pass the Bill failed, and I believe other 
 attempts have been equally unsuccessful. Measures 
 of this kind, however, once put forward, are seldom 
 given over finally, and it is to be feared that the 
 
372 Memoir of the Rev. John Kelle. 
 
 efforts to carry this will be renewed. Should they 
 be, I commend the pamphlet to the notice of my 
 readers. 
 
 It was somewhat earlier in this year of 1851, that 
 I consulted him on a difficulty which occurred to 
 me, in regard to a clergyman who had been my 
 own pastor, and who had seceded to Rome. He 
 was a pious and amiable man, and we had lived in 
 a good deal of social intimacy. Keble answered me 
 thus : — 
 
 "Now to the question you asked about. I suppose it 
 has been practically answered by this time; it is a diffi- 
 cult one to answer for another person ; but if it were my 
 own case, I should keep up as much intercourse as I could 
 in the way of morning visits with the rest of the family ; 
 but I could not have him to dine. I should consider it 
 scandalous in respect of the servants, to say no other; 
 they know that he is a clergyman who has renounced his 
 Orders ; and it cannot be but certain thoughts must enter 
 into their minds, if they think of such tilings at all. 
 
 "In one respect this Lent is much pleasanter than 
 last, that one does not live in a perpetual fever of Church 
 Union Meetings, &c. : how far it is the calm of despair 
 may admit of a question, as far I mean as our cause is 
 z, public cause; for as to private feelings, one seems, thank 
 God, to be more and more sure that one was and is right 
 in staying. Now, good night, dearest friend. From your 
 ever loving, J. K." 
 
 It was about this time that he was consulted by 
 a gentleman who was meditating a very unusual step. 
 
A Laymatis Testimony to the English Church. 373 
 
 I am at liberty to mention the circumstance, and I 
 do so chiefly for the sake of the letter in which he 
 gave his answer. The gentleman was at the time 
 a layman, not a young man, and engaged actively 
 in a liberal profession ; circumstances had occurred 
 in his family, which made it seem to him a sort 
 of special duty to give as strong a testimony as 
 he could personally to the Church of England ; he 
 thought therefore of applying for Ordination, and 
 to be allowed to fill a vacancy that had been made 
 in a small country cure in his neighbourhood. It 
 v/as obviously a matter that demanded much con- 
 sideration, and, as so many others did in their diffi- 
 culties, he turned to Keble for advice. His letter 
 I have not the means of referring to, but I have 
 the answer before me, and I am at liberty to use it. 
 He says : — 
 
 " Concerning your scheme, one can feel nothing but joy 
 and thankfulness that such a thought should have come 
 into your heart. It startled me, I own, at first, but on 
 ■coming to ask myself why, I really believe that this was 
 only from its being so new and unusual a thing, though in 
 a certain sense it may seem very old ; for who knows but it 
 may have been put into your mind for the same kind of 
 purpose, which made so many of our forefathers of all ages 
 and stations enter the religious hfe. I do not of course 
 compare the two, but may it not be in our day the same 
 kind of thing in some measure ? This I say to myself to 
 meet the scruple you hint at, and which a great many would 
 feel, about being less useful so, than as a Layman trying 
 
374 Memoir of the Rev. John Kehle. 
 
 his best. It seems to me that this would be more to the 
 purpose, if you cut short your active professional life for 
 the sake of doing this ; but it would not be so ; it would 
 be something substituted for miscellaneous and not strictly 
 professional work, and in that respect would perhaps in- 
 volve a good deal of self-denial; of course you will con- 
 sider well beforehand, whether, applying yourself as you 
 ■would wish to do to your new profession, you will have 
 leisure for the many calls for time and thought which are 
 sure to be made on you in your retirement. You wiU not 
 like to put them by, and I can fancy them going on on 
 such a large scale as to interfere seriously with your pas- 
 toral work. 
 
 "I only mention this for consideration; there may be 
 nothing in it, your habits being so active. 
 
 "The testimony both as regards religion generally, and 
 faith in our own Church particularly, would, as it seems to 
 me, be the stronger in such a change, than in a person's 
 continuing a dutiful Layman. 
 
 " On the whole, (I have been just reading over your letter 
 again,) I am much inclined to say, go on and prosper, and 
 may a great blessing attend you." 
 
 Keble, from his own experience perhaps, seems 
 to have had his attention principally drawn to the 
 calls, whicH might probably be made on the gentle- 
 man, for advice in matters relating to his abandoned 
 profession, and be an hindrance to him in his new 
 one ; he seems to have overlooked that it was in- 
 tended evidently to cut short the professional life ; 
 but in itself he had no difficulty in assenting to 
 the sacrifice. This might have been expected from 
 him. 
 
A Laj'man's Testimony to the English Church. 375: 
 
 There was a second letter from him, from which 
 it appears that another friend had also been con- 
 sulted, whose opinion was opposed to the change. 
 It did not alter Keble's view, for which he gives his - 
 reasons. However, whether from the occurrence of 
 new circumstances, or some change in the gentle- 
 man's mind, I know not, his purpose was never car- 
 ried into effect. But I have thought it fitting to 
 mention the incident, and publish the letter; they 
 recall the recollection of that anxious time, when 
 the hearts of serious men were greatly searched by 
 a flood of doubts and questionings on the contro- 
 versy between the Two Churches. The secessions- 
 to Rome, though not numerous, and with a very 
 few exceptions little note-worthy or influential a& 
 examples, yet produced in the families in which. 
 they occurred the deepest and most lasting dis- 
 tress. They, indeed, who then left father and mother,, 
 brother and sister, and made great temporal sacri- 
 fices, were not in truth generally those who suffered 
 the most, or the longest. .It pleased God to guard' 
 our Church from any permanent depression, or in- 
 jury ; and it may be hoped that we have learned to 
 regard such events with sorrow indeed, and it may 
 often be self-reproach, but with a more comprehen- 
 sive, and I will add reasonable charity, than we could ' 
 easily exercise at first. I will not undertake to say 
 whether, as regards the individual case which has 
 occasioned these remarks, Keble or the dissentient 
 
3/6 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 friend was on the whole right. The wisdom of the re- 
 solution may be questionable, but there is no reason 
 to doubt of the gentleman's sincerity, and I cannot 
 but agree in the opinion that as a testimony the 
 step would have probably been impressive on many 
 minds. However, events have shewn, and we may 
 acknowledge it thankfully, that it was not a neces- 
 sary one. 
 
 Later in the year 1851, I was threatened with 
 a very heavy sorrow by the seemingly desperate 
 illness of a married daughter, which I mention only 
 to introduce a letter I received from him when mat- 
 ters appeared to be at the worst. It would seem 
 to me ingratitude to withhold such a testimony at 
 once to the tenderness of his heart, and to the re- 
 ligious aspect in which he contemplated all such 
 
 trials : — 
 
 "H. v., 4iV7)z/^, 1851. 
 " My dearest Coleridge, 
 
 "I cannot be easy without writing one line to you at 
 such a time as this, though I well know how impossible 
 it is for me really to sympathise with your distress. Only 
 I cannot help imagining that your dear child's sufferings 
 are in kind rather like my Mary Anne's in 1826, con- 
 cerning which I have always felt that it seemed a case 
 which the Great Physician had taken most entirely into 
 His own hands, so utterly powerless did all human means 
 appear from the very beginning ; and the distress in kind 
 so utterly unhke what one could have expected for one so 
 sweet and loving. So that ever since, one has tliought of 
 her, I trust not presumptuously, as of one much nearer 
 
Excursions. 377 
 
 a martyr's estate than most even of those whom one re- 
 members most thankfully. My dearest friend, your fatherly 
 heart, as it will feel the rending and tearing of such a visi- 
 tation in a way which such as I cannot imagine, so it will 
 be by His mercy, I trust, opened to receive this treasure 
 of comfort far beyond my comprehension. He who has 
 granted you to take care of this precious jewel for Him- 
 self, will enable you to bear your temporary loss of it, I am 
 sure of that; and who knows how available her presence 
 there, (if He should now take her,) may be to avert some 
 of the evils which we have been most dreading of late ? I 
 
 must write one line to dear M , God grant it may be 
 
 of some small comfort to her. We have mentioned dear 
 
 A , though not by name, in our prayers and communion, 
 
 since we heard of her illness. Our affectionate love is with 
 you all. Yora most loving, J. K." 
 
 Again, in 1852, Keble made his summer sea-side 
 trip for Mrs. Keble's sake serve the purpose also 
 of his own preparation for the Life of Bishop Wil- 
 son, on which he was now engaged. They went in 
 August to the Isle of Man, " got a lodging in a very- 
 pretty place," enjoyed their stay much, and returned 
 " the haler and the heartier for it." He wrote to me 
 from Leeds, whither he had gone in his return by 
 desire of Dr. Pusey, to compose some little differ- 
 ences ; he spoke with great gratitude of the kind- 
 ness they had received from the Bishop and his 
 whole family. He drops, too, a hint of that which 
 had for years been much on his mind, and on which 
 
378 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 perhaps he thought a little too much in the com- 
 position of his Memoir : — 
 
 ^' If one had skill, the information gathered might be 
 made very profitable, partly as to the good Bishop's per- 
 sonal character and opinions, but still more as to the dis- 
 cipline of the Island, as a fragment of former days, and 
 perhaps as furnishing hints for the future." 
 
 I have mentioned one of Keble's trips to Scotland. 
 In 1853 he made another, which he speaks of shortly- 
 in the following letter : — 
 
 ^ " H. v., 6 Oct% 1853. 
 
 " My very dear Coleridge, 
 
 " I am tired of not writing to you, though I have very 
 little to say. But I do wish to know whether you have 
 any objection to appropriating the proceeds of the next 
 Edition of the Lyra to Fredericton, for I very much wish to 
 do some little for dear Medley, and hardly know how to do 
 it any other way. We had a most successful flight to Skye 
 and back, staying out two Sundays. We escaped all the 
 violent weather, and had the perfection of steam travelling 
 in every respect, but the crowds that were with us; Sea, 
 Mountain, and Sky, all along performing the most exquisite 
 Trios for our amusement. I suppose, putting tire hours to- 
 gether, that I was not less than seven days on board, and 
 I was not at all sick the whole time, a great triumph for 
 me; and C. I think entirely enjoyed it; and though she 
 came back with a cold, she is certainly able to walk far- 
 ther than she could. Skye scenery beats what I expected,, 
 and so does the whole of the Inverness and Rosshire Coast 
 
Another Visit to Scotland. 379 
 
 as we saw it from the steamer; the Coolea Hills are not so 
 high as some others, but their forms are, I think, the finest 
 I have seen. Among other people we met the Bp. or 
 London, and his family, who were staying at Ballachulish, 
 and they were very good-natured. On our way home we- 
 stayed a night at Bisley, which was very refreshing, and 
 now we have been at home near a month, and have had 
 several visitors ; R. Wilberforce especially, about whom there- 
 is still more anxiety than one could wish ; though his book 
 is meeting with such success as I for one could never have- 
 dreamed of But I really cannot imagine a person of his 
 truthfulness, learning, and good tempej; putting up with the 
 Roman system as a Convert. [Keble is speaking of Arch- 
 deacon Wilberforce's able and learned treatise on the 
 Doctrine of the Holy Eucharist] I should be glad to- 
 hear anything you can tell me of the Lay Crusade against 
 the jparti frdtre. My expectation is, (God avert it,) that 
 
 &c., will have their own v/ay, and that if the world 
 
 lasts, there will be something as bad as Popery, only in 
 another direction, marring the Gospel as Popery did, for 
 want of simple faith in the first Gospel as the Apostles 
 
 left it I wish I could find the double of Wilson for 
 
 Ampfield, for I grieve to say he is obliged to go for reasons 
 of health. It is the greatest loss. Our very kind love ta 
 all. Your ever loving J. K." 
 
 I aril unable to say what answer I returned as to- 
 the Lyra, nor is it material ; but I would not omit 
 the question, because it is a testimony to a dear 
 friend, one of the most sound, and zealous, and able 
 of our Colonial Bishops, which it will give him a plea- 
 sure, he well deserves, to see recorded. 
 
380 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 My next letter from him, on the i6th of Novem- 
 ber, 1853, was but a note, written under his dicta- 
 tion by Mrs. Keble, and only signed by himself It 
 was merely an invitation to come down to Hursley, 
 in respect of a charitable object which he thought 
 I might further, and he ends it thus : — 
 
 " My worthy friend the Iodine is only just beginning to 
 tickle me, but I dare say it will do its work in time. Many 
 thanks for my pleasant visit to you. Affectionately yours, 
 
 « J. K." 
 
 This attack was probably a precursor, or fore- 
 warning of that with which he was visited so much 
 more seriously not many years after; it was more 
 serious, however, than he seems to have regarded 
 it as being ; for three months after, writing to me, he 
 speaks of his " nearly recovered hand." I was about 
 to say it would have been well if he had learned 
 from it to be more prudent, and to remit in some 
 measure the constant strain to which he submitted 
 both body and mind in the discharge of the duties, 
 regular and irregular, which fell on him. But I will 
 not say this ; it was well for him to labour as he did, 
 though his frame sunk under it at last ; it was hap- 
 pier for him so to do in this hfe, and who can doubt 
 that it is far happier for him in another. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 DEATH OF W. C. YONGE, 1 854. — OXFORD 
 UNIVERSITY REFORM. 
 
 L'ARLY in the year 1854, Keble was visited with 
 -^—^ a great affliction in the sudden death of Wil- 
 liam Yonge, whom •! have had occasion to mention 
 before. In any way it would have affected him much, 
 but in the particular circumstances it was specially 
 afflicting. His only son, a young soldier, was to 
 sail with his regiment on what turned out to be 
 the Crimean expedition, and the old soldier busied 
 himself with his usual activity in equipping him for 
 the service ; perhaps, it may be feared, beyond his 
 strength. On his return home from this exertion he 
 had an apoplectic seizure, and although, during what 
 seemed a respite, his son was able to hurry home to 
 see him, it was but for three hours, during the whole 
 of which he was asleep. No more could be allowed. 
 He died without seeing him just after the sailing of 
 the regiment, and too late for the news to reach the 
 son before the vessel touched at Malta. This was 
 a severe visitation on the mother and sister, the only 
 surviving members of the family ; the Kebles were 
 on the most intimate terms with them, and no one 
 
382 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 would be more likely to sympathize with them in 
 their sorrow than they ; but Keble felt the loss ten- 
 derly in many ways for himself; William C. Yonge, 
 beside his goodness and tenderness of heart, often 
 concealed from the many, and in matters of indif- 
 ference, by a somewhat stern manner, had a fond- 
 ness for business and knowledge of it, a readiness of 
 -apprehension, and decision of character, which Keble 
 was glad to lean on. " What we shall do here with- 
 out W. C. Y.," he says, in communicating the event 
 to Mr. Wilson, who was abroad, " I cannot think." 
 He writes to me : — 
 
 " I am grieved to the heart to think that the first letter I 
 write to you with my nearly-recovered hand should have to 
 -announce such sad news.'' 
 
 And after describing the particulars, and the state 
 •of the widow and daughter, he says : — 
 
 "What they will do without him, what we and all the 
 neighbours will do, especially what Otterbourn will do, I 
 am sure I cannot say. There is really no one that I know 
 of in this Parish at all to take his place. But our loss, (we 
 may speak it, D. V., with more absolute confidence tlian 
 usual,) is his exceeding gain." 
 
 And, again, on the 31st of March he says to me : — 
 
 " But you would be surprised to see how we miss him at 
 every turn, and find that it is indeed a gap which will never 
 be filled up. But of course this is a feeling of which one 
 
Oxford University Reform Bill. 383 
 
 must expect more and more. ... Do you not mean to come 
 this Circuit again some time, and let me have one of my 
 pleasant drives, or walks with you ? I have no Wilson, nor 
 Yonge now, and only half-a-Heatlicote. [Sir William was 
 now attending in Parliament as Member for the University.] 
 Eut thank God my wife is well for her, and walked the day 
 before yesterday 2\ miles. With love to you all, I am af- 
 fect''' yours, J. K." 
 
 It will be seen that Keble in the eariiest of these 
 letters to me, from which I have made extracts, 
 dated on the 26th of February, 1854, speaks of his 
 " nearly recovered hand." It appears from the same 
 letter, that it had been thought desirable for him to 
 -come to London for advice in regard to it, and that 
 I had urged him to do so again ; he refused, saying, 
 ■" It is so nearly well, that I do not think it need go 
 a consulting any more. I only wish I was as likely 
 to make a good use of it, as to have the use of it." 
 Whatever the affection was, it seemed to pass away; 
 he wrote as much as ever, and I see no marked 
 change in the character of his handwriting for several 
 years after this. 
 
 A subject now arose which interested him most 
 ■deeply, I may say painfully ; the Oxford University 
 Reform Bill, consequent on the report of a Royal 
 Commission of Inquiry. It is well known that the 
 provisions of this Bill, which occasioned much debate 
 in Parliament, were framed so as to make great 
 changes in the Constitution of the University, and 
 
384 Memoir of the Rev. John Kehle. 
 
 to permit some also in the several Colleges. In re- 
 spect to the former, the measures were for the most 
 part defined at once by Parliament ; to carry out the 
 latter, an Executive Commission was appointed, and 
 the members were named in the Bill, among these 
 were Sir John W. Awdry, and myself. If what was 
 then done had been final, it might have sufficed to 
 mention generally that Keble was very much op- 
 posed to the whole measure ; but much of what he 
 wrote applies itself to questions now pending, and 
 therefore I make some extracts from his letters. 
 
 He wrote to me on seeing the first draft of the 
 Bill, on February 26, 1854: — 
 
 " I suppose it will be no breach of confidence now to 
 speak to you of the University Reform Bill, the draft of 
 which was shewn to me by permission. I was regularly 
 scared at it, and much fear that it will make a sadder dis- 
 ruption of parties than ever. The Constitution it enforces 
 will leave us (unless we are continually running up from the 
 Country) entirely at the mercy of the Tutors and Professors, 
 (the latter a completely new sort of folk to be as such an 
 organic part of the Body,) and there is no reason to believe 
 that either is not fairly represented by the present persons, 
 who seem to me, I must confess, rather different from the 
 Copelands and Rogers's and Aclands of fonner days, in 
 respect both of temper and of reverential feelings. Then 
 the plan is expressly Anti-Collegiate : it goes on the prin- 
 ciple that it is actually good (cateris paribus) to have a lot 
 of Students who are not alumni of some old Founder, but 
 disciples of Arnold, or Marriott, or Newman, or whoever he 
 
Oxford University Reform Bill. 385 
 
 may be, as if this was not the immediate way to encourage 
 Party of all sorts, and as if there were not elements of good 
 and happiness in the Collegiate Life, which we ought to 
 provide as far as we can for all our Students, and as if it 
 would be possible, one might say fair, that system once ad- 
 mitted, to avoid admitting Dissenters. With the Colleges 
 it deals rather less radically, but all through with a notion' 
 that examinations and talent are everything, and with another 
 notion which I deprecate from my very heart, that natural 
 preferences for homes, kindred, &c., are not to be allowed 
 in eleemosynary endowments. I think it an indication of 
 a certain hard priggishness, which I fear is getting to be 
 characteristic of this generation. Well, here is grumbling 
 enough for one time, but you must not suppose that in 
 what I say of this Bill, I mean to be condemning the per- 
 son, whom I suppose we must consider its author. I have 
 no doubt he is designing himself to do the best he can for 
 us. He is still to my mind ' Pusey in a blue coat' But 
 the die seems to me virtually to be cast ; I believe the An- 
 glican portion of Christendom, for the sake of doing good, 
 to be on the point of commencing a process not unlike 
 that by which the Papacy rose and throve, in its disregard 
 of Primitive Models, and I hope a great deal of good may 
 be the immediate result ; but one cannot but fear the event 
 on a large scale, looking to what has come of the Papacy. 
 Of this great movement, the University Reform is a part, 
 as I take it. But ohe jam satis, especially as I know that 
 on this subject, if I were to write for a year, I should only 
 make my heart and wrists ache for nothing. And so I rest, 
 dearest friend, ever your most aff'°, J. K." 
 
 On the 31st of March, 1854, he again v/roteto me 
 in part on the same subject. After expressing his 
 
 C c 
 
386 Memoir of the Rev, John Kehle. 
 
 pleasure that Sir J. Awdry and myself were among 
 the Commissioners, he says : — 
 
 " I trust that, if it please God, you will be enabled to do 
 a good deal towards drawing the sting of it, — that a sting it 
 bas, and a many-forked sting, I wish I could doubt ; and I 
 <;ertainly could not myself have been a party to it, were it 
 only for the needless, and, (as it seems to me,) therefore 
 irreverent degree of interference with Founders' Wills ; but 
 in this, I beUeve, not even Pusey agrees with me. I thought 
 I had got over it ; but as it was my first thought, so it has 
 ■come over me stronger than ever. But I am not going now 
 to trouble you with my feeUngs and fancies ; if you think it 
 ■worth while you may see a specimen of them which I sent 
 yesterday to Heathcote ; but, indeed, I poured myself out 
 to you more than enough the last time I wrote. I wish I 
 may be very much mistaken, but the aspect of things op- 
 presses me more almost than ever. This war is to me so 
 whorrible; surely we ought to be most thankful for oiur 
 Lord's saying about Peace and a Sword ; else such things 
 -would be almost too much for us." 
 
 Again, on the 24th of April, he wrote to me on 
 
 the subject of the Private Halls, which then seemed 
 
 . likely to be of much importance, but from which so 
 
 , little as yet has resulted ; though it may be that more 
 
 imay now arise : — 
 
 '" But what I wanted now to set before you was two or 
 three thoughts obvious enough, yet, (as I fancied,) worth 
 writing down, which have occurred partly to E. B. P., and 
 jpardy to myself, in considering this plan of Private Halls. 
 
 ■*' First of all, he thought whether it might be well to 
 
Private Halls. 387 
 
 make a list beforehand of persons who are eligible to them, 
 (as the V. Chancellor is to make a list for the first gathering 
 of the new Congregation,) rather than give a vested interest 
 to every M.A. to the Licence. I cannot but look on this 
 with very great dismay ; except (which I do not think un- 
 likely, Woodard says it will certainly be so,) it fall dead 
 to the ground for economical reasons, and I shall be most 
 anxious to see what rules you the Commissioners will pre- 
 scribe, or accept, to guard it. Might not one be, that no 
 one shall have a licence except he have gained such and 
 such distinction, unless he will consent to undergo an ex- 
 amination for it. Might not the V. Ch. have a Council 
 .assigned him, a Committee, say, of the new Hebdomadal 
 Board, who shall certify in some solemn form, whenever 
 they grant a licence, the same kind of points as are re- 
 -quired to be certified by this Act, when a man is elected 
 .to a Fellowship ? Might there be a kind of Si quis put 
 'forth for a certain time at the meetings of the Hebdomadal 
 'Council, for the chance of excluding persons positively dis- 
 creditable ? Might it be ruled that the Licensed M.A. must 
 "be either a Priest, or provide to the satisfaction of the Licen- 
 ;sers a sufficient Chaplain to look after his pupils ? Might 
 mot the licences, for a certain time, at least, be restricted 
 to persons associating with them a certain number of co- 
 adjutors, such as to give security to the University, that 
 .between them they would give their pupils a fair chance of 
 completing the University Course, thus forming a sort of 
 
 voluntary Colleges, (but S says this would not do, they 
 
 would quarrel so.) Might not some kind of pecuniary 
 guarantee be insisted on? I mean that a M.A. should 
 shew to the satisfaction of the Licensers that he has a fair 
 chance of success, by producing promises in writing from 
 respectable persons guaranteeing him in all so many pupils 
 
388 Memoir of the Rev. John Kehle. 
 
 to begin with ; or in any other way. Rules like these, it 
 seems to me, will be requisite to guard against direct 
 swindling, and charlataneries ', but what I most apprehend, 
 if the plan succeed, is a succession of A's, or V's, or W's, 
 or A's, or B. N's, or F. N's, each with his School or per- 
 sonal following, unsoftened by the Collegiate feeling. What 
 will become of Peace and Reverence ? and where will you 
 find any safeguard against this? I must see whether I 
 can think of anything against to-morrow morning, for it 
 is midnight. 
 
 " Well, now it is to-morrow morning, and I have been 
 thinking chiefly of my dreams, but a little of my being 
 to-day 62 years old, and how little I have to shew for it, 
 except in one way, which is not pleasant to think of. 
 
 "I hope to see May here presently, and that will be 
 a comfort. 
 
 "As to the evil last mentioned, I suppose it must be 
 taken as a necessary result of ' our unhappy divisions ;' 
 however, I dread it exceedingly. I should think also it 
 would be harder to keep up discipline ; offences will much 
 more readily be slurred over when a man's bread depends 
 on the number of his pupils ; and Proctors will be thought 
 ill of, if they do not a little spare the father of ' six small 
 children,' or ' of eight marriageable engaged daughters.' 
 On the whole, I fear litttle Bernard has small chance of 
 learning the old Oxford r^das, any more than he has of 
 loitering with a book under a real hedge-row of the old 
 English Fashion. 
 
 "I have just got your letter; many thanks. In your 
 notion of the small effect of this Bill in itself, I very much 
 agree ; the loss of ^flos I fear has taken place already. 
 
 " Ever your very loving, J. K." 
 
 " Surely the Private Halls do make a great opening for 
 
Private Halls. 389 
 
 Dissenters, at least, with those who think that the Colleges 
 are in some sense bound by the Churchmanship of their 
 Founders." 
 
 On the 1st of May he writes : — 
 
 " I wish I could be reassured by anything in your letter, 
 or in what W. E. G. said the other evening, that the direct 
 and necessary tendency of this Bill is not to separate Oxford 
 from the Church. As I understand him, one of the first 
 things after the Bill shall have passed, will be tliat the 
 University will be called on to consider how far ' the natural 
 and reasonable desires' of Dissenters to get into it may be 
 gratified ;' and one of the faults of the Hebdomadal Board 
 is their not having allowed that question to be mooted. 
 
 " I have very little doubt that we shall have to deal with 
 it every year till it is done, and how long then will it be 
 before the Colleges are thrown open also ; considering that 
 J. D. himself told me the other day, ' he did not care for 
 Founders and Benefactors j' they were his very words. 
 
 " I can only see one way in which this measure can 
 amount even to a forlorn hope, that is, if there were such 
 a lot of people like Woodard and Wordsworth, &c., to oc- 
 cupy the Private Halls, that they should even take the place 
 by storm, and do their work so as to defy competition ; but 
 what chance is there of that ?" 
 
 On the 19th of June he wrote again to me. I was 
 coming on the Western Circuit, and had promised to 
 go to Hursley in my way : — 
 
 " My dearest Friend, 
 
 " Indeed it is too true that you have not heard from me 
 
 for very long, and I wish I did not know too well whose 
 
 fault it is. Pray let us see as much as ever we can of you 
 
 ■when you come here. I was intending to write to ask you 
 
390 Memoir of the Rev. John Kehle. 
 
 this before your's came. If you could but give us a quiet 
 Sunday ! Such things are more and more precious every 
 year as we feel how Httle we can reckon on them. I am 
 sure you will do what you can for us. We are more of 
 a family than usual, having three of Peter Young's children, 
 while he is being watered at Malvern ; I hope successfully, 
 but I am far from being easy about him. But the youngsters 
 "would not be at all in your way. Heathcote you know may 
 
 now see his fill of you in London 
 
 " I very much like, as far as I can judge, the changes 
 -which have been made in the Oxford Bill, only I am afraid 
 they will greatly increase your trouble. It is not so much 
 the proposed amount of change that I deprecated, as the 
 cool way in which Parliament was decreeing, without asking 
 those most concerned, that Founders' natural preferences 
 should go for nothing, thereby laying down the principle 
 which Woodgate seems to me to have unanswerably ex- 
 posed, that endowments may be seized not only for doing 
 harm, but for not doing all the good they might. I con- 
 sider that principle to be now withdrawn, and that is to me- 
 a great gain, be the practical result what it may. Still my 
 quarrel with the first half of the Bill remains. I consider 
 myself and some 4,000 others to be unconstitutionally and 
 -wrongfully treated in not being even consulted on so great 
 a thing as the whole scheme of our Corporate Government ;. 
 and that while it is expressly enacted that Convocation is 
 to retain its privileges. If we had been guilty of ever so- 
 great malversation, we could not have been used worse." 
 
 Again, on July 13, he wrote : — 
 
 " My very dear Friend, 
 " One word for fear I should miss you by-and-by, to say 
 that I was not quite so simple as to dream of shutting Dis- 
 senters out of Oxford. I think you had not time to read 
 
Private Halls, 391 
 
 the printed stuff I put into your hands, p. 10, else you woulcl 
 not have misunderstood me. What I ask for is simply that 
 the restriction of a mile and a half from Carfax b6 taken, 
 away, so that people may study any where, and only 
 come up to be examined, &c., at Oxford, and this, for" 
 all denominations alike, even as all alike will be free or 
 Oxford itself. 
 
 " I dare say this is unpractical enough, but it is not, I 
 think, quite so unreal as what you understood me to mean." 
 
 From time to time during the sittings of the Exe- 
 cutive Commission he wrote to me on the subject of 
 Affiliated Halls, (which he recommended to be allowed, 
 without limitation as to distance or denomination), 
 and the Private Halls to be established under the 
 Bill. I will extract from one of these, written from 
 Oxford on the i4th of June, 1855, very soon after 
 the Statute as to Private Halls, which I believe is- 
 still in force, had been passed. .This adhered to- 
 the originally proposed limitation as to the distance 
 from Carfax, within which alone the Hall could ber 
 opened ; and modified, but not in Keble's opinion 
 sufficiently, that which prescribed within what period 
 before the grant of a Licence, the Head must have 
 been resident within the University. These limita- 
 tions he would have wholly done away with. 
 
 The letter is interesting on several accounts : — 
 
 " Dearest Coleridge, 
 " I have been looking at the Statute for Private Halls,, 
 ■which I understood is now before you the Commissioner^. 
 
393 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 and I have been a little dismayed at finding that nobody- 
 may open a Hall unless he has been lately resident at Ox- 
 ford. This entirely spoils a favourite dream of mine, that 
 such as Wilson, (e.g.) might make a lodgment in Oxford 
 under cover of the new system, and do something to coun- 
 teract the terrible secular spirit which has come over the 
 place, naturally enough by the re-action consequent on 
 Newman's secession, and other such things. You see the 
 present Tutorial Body in Oxford, (I don't mean to dispar- 
 age them, it was but to be expected in their position,) are 
 just of that Academical Generation which was most likely 
 to be influenced in that way. The old Country Stagers 
 were too well settled beforehand, and I hope their children 
 after them will prove to be the same ; but there is no doubt, 
 from all I can hear, that the religious tone of the Common 
 Rooms just now is very much gone down from the level of 
 Copeland, Rogers, Tom Morris, &c., and I caijpot but think 
 that an opening for such as I am thinking of is very desir- 
 able. The obvious way would be to strike out the limitation 
 about time, and leave those who recommend to state what 
 quantify of experience their proteges have, as well as how 
 they stand in other respects. And the Candidates might 
 be invited to bring the best testimonials they covXA from 
 any quarter, as when Rugby or Winchester School is 
 vacant; and the Hebdomadal Council might judge of 
 them, or appoint a Committee to judge, provided always 
 the Committee were impartially constituted, in which last 
 clause I apprehend the difficulty would lie, but we must 
 trust somebody. 
 
 " Perhaps I have no business to write to you on this 
 matter, if so, just put me in the fire. 
 
 . "I am here for two days for Bp. Wilson, but go home 
 to-morrow." 
 
Oxford University Reform. 393 
 
 I have brought these letters together for the gene- 
 ral, and as to some of them the present, importance 
 of the subjects on which they are written. The 
 strong inclination of Keble's mind was obviously to 
 preserve Oxford so far, at least, as regarded Resident 
 Students, to members of the Established Church ; 
 though he would have conceded the Oxford Exami- 
 nations at Oxford, and of course the honours, with I 
 presume the Bachelor's degree, to Nonconformists of 
 every denomination ; he would have had much more 
 regard paid to the intentions of founders than would 
 be satisfactory to the Reformers ; and he clung with 
 the greatest- earnestness to the revival and preserva- 
 tion in full force of what he called the Oxford ^^09, 
 which he considered to be of infinite value, and to be 
 dying out in the new state of feeling there. 
 
 These three points are of present and abiding im- 
 portance ; oh all of them Keble's opinions would be 
 considered perhaps by many persons as now out of 
 date ; but in order to judge of them fairly, we must 
 transport ourselves to the time when they were 
 given, and remember the general object which he 
 set before his own mind. The doctrine of the Na- 
 tionality of the Universities, because their property 
 was the gift of the nation, and their establishment 
 the act of the State, was at that time little heard 
 of; and when stated, rather assumed than proved. 
 I do not mean now to controvert it; and it is per- 
 haps hardly a practical question how far as a whole 
 
394 Memoir of the Rev. John Kehle. 
 
 it could be historically proved ; but conceding this, if 
 one thought that the State was about so to exercise- 
 its right of interference as to impair the gift which it 
 had already made, it would be neither inconsistent,, 
 nor narrow-minded, to oppose such exercise. Look- 
 ing at the ipterests of the classes which were actually 
 in an ancient and undisturbed possession, it seems to- 
 me even now very questionable, whether tluir place 
 of education, and their education, may not suflFer 
 unnecessarily and seriously by the measures which 
 have been adopted since the Oxford Reform com- 
 menced. The engrafting of the Collegiate system 
 on the University teaching used to be considered 
 a circumstance advantageously distinguishing Ox- 
 ford and Cambridge from all other Universities. I 
 am not prepared to abandon that notion, and if this 
 distinction could have been preserved, with a due 
 regard to the claims of Nonconformists, no Oxford 
 man could be blamed, I think, or considered illi- 
 beral, for endeavouring to accomplish it. The scheme 
 of Private Halls may be said to have failed ; it was 
 a concession, perhaps a necessary one, to, the feeling 
 of the day, but it had the seeds of its failure inherent 
 in it ; all the Colleges and Public Halls were not, and 
 I believe are not even now full, and the Private Halls 
 presented no advantage which might not have been 
 had in greater degree in one of them. At the end of 
 thirteen years but two appear to exist, which contain 
 together eighteen Students in all, a number which 
 
Oxford University Reform. 395 
 
 might certainly have been conveniently provided for 
 without their establishment The scheme now started 
 of simple teaching apart from the Collegiate life, I 
 fear may result in a similar failure, although it pre- 
 sents the temptation of economy ; unless it be sup- 
 plemented by something, which it does not and could 
 not promise, and the happening of which, however - 
 probable, is still precarious and uncertain. I mean 
 some such event as that which Keble desired, the 
 devotion of themselves by some marked and gifted 
 men to the tuition of the Non-ascripti. It does not 
 seem safe in regard to this to rely on the ordinary- 
 rule of demand creating supply ; here the supply 
 should in some sort precede the demand ; and it- 
 must be remembered that the Colleges must be ex- 
 pected to present commonly much greater tempta- 
 tions to eminent men to become Tutors, than the 
 class of pupils we are now speaking of. 
 
 But waiving these difficulties, it seems to me that 
 this plan, (and Keble's no less,) has been framed in 
 forgetfulness of that which is essential to satisfy the 
 claims both of Churchmen who require more eco- 
 nomy, and of Nonconformists who seek admission ta- 
 University education ; it may, and I hope it will, 
 conduce to the teaching a greater number of per- 
 sons the languages and science, and may give to- 
 more of our youth some of the benefits resulting 
 from University Honours and Degrees. And I do- 
 not desire to undervalue this advantage. But we de- 
 
39^ Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 ceive ourselves, if we suppose that these gains will 
 satisfy the reasonable desires of parents. Quite apart 
 from these, however valuable, there is and there 
 ought to be, even in the minds of those who neither 
 expect nor desire for their sons Scholarships, or Fel- 
 lowships, a strong desire to give them the benefit of 
 a Collegiate education ; it is the College Hall and 
 Common Room, the College Tutor's classes, not too 
 large to become the seed plots of friendships, the 
 College society and associations, which they know 
 tend to introduce their sons, free from all invidious 
 distinctions, into full membership in the best Eng- 
 lish society. Their feeling is our own ; what is it now 
 which we look back upon with the most affectionate 
 feeling and innocent pride .■" not so much the Univer- 
 sity as our College ; not merely to our having been 
 First Class men, or having won this or that Univer- 
 sity prize, but to having been fellow-pupils with such 
 and such men of this or that Tutor at Balliol, or 
 Corpus, or New College, or elsewhere ; or perhaps, 
 with some of us, even fellow-oarsmen in this or that 
 CoUeige boat ; it is the College which creates habits, 
 which forms or cements friendships, which stamps 
 indelible memories and associations. It may be a 
 melancholy conclusion, and involve some serious con- 
 sequences, (I hope none so serious as excellent men, 
 and Dr. Pusey among them, foretel,) but I am con- 
 vinced, that if changes are to be made with a view of 
 satisfying those who are now without, nothing short 
 
Oxford University Reform. ^gy 
 
 of a full and free admission to the College will have 
 that effect with the most influential of the claimants. 
 If they know what they seek, and I dopbt not they 
 do, they will accept nothing short of this. 
 
 But suppose my conviction to be ill-founded, and 
 also that the new measure should be well accepted,, 
 and lead to a large influx of young men of all deno- 
 minations, it is surely matter of grave consideration 
 how far the order, and discipline, and internal har- 
 mony of the University can be securely maintained 
 with so large a body, consisting of young men of pre- 
 vious habits so different, and so prone in themselves- 
 to give and take offence. It is mere folly to suppose 
 that a machinery by which, or an area in which, a 
 thousand or twelve hundred Students may work well 
 together, will have strength or space for the number 
 indefinitely increased ; and it is much to be feared 
 that irreparable injury may be done to those who 
 now occupy the ground, without conferring the de- 
 sired benefits on the new comers. The change, it 
 must also be remembered, is not a mere change of 
 numbers ; besides many differences in themselves,, 
 the new comers will not be under the same favour- 
 able circumstances for discipline as those under which 
 the Undergraduates are now placed. 
 
 One evil which Keble, it has been seen, estimated 
 as very grave, the loss of the old Oxford ffdos, it 
 would be scarcely fair to attribute to anything done 
 under the Oxford Reform Statute ; for he speaks of 
 
398 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 "it as having already happened when he wrote, and 
 attributes it to another cause. Some of my readers 
 may ask what Keble meant by the quality which he 
 so much valued, and called by a Greek name. The 
 familiarity of Students of our Oxford daj^s with 
 some, at least, of the treatises of Aristotle, and es- 
 pecially with the Ethics, and the remarkable ex- 
 pressiveness of his diction, occasioned the frequent 
 use among ourselves of his terms ; they were ever 
 in the mouths of Keble and Arnold in conversa- 
 tion or correspondence. I dare say the same re- 
 mark might be true now. Tliis was one of those 
 terms. It is a somewhat remarkable one. The 
 same it is which denotes custom, or usage gene- 
 rally, differing only in this, that the first letter is 
 then pronounced short, and is either doubled or 
 pronounced long when it denotes, at least in Aris- 
 totle's mouth, not a custom, or usage generally, but 
 •one that is moral ". With Keble it imported certainly 
 no intellectual quality, scarcely even any distinct 
 moral one, but an habitual toning, or general colour- 
 ing diffused over all a man's moral qualities, giving 
 the exercise of them a peculiar gentleness and grace ; 
 it was not that the Oxford lad was more dutiful, 
 more brave, more truthful, more punctual in his re- 
 ligious duties than any other, but that these quali- 
 ties were habitually exercised by him with more of 
 
 ■ Sflec kbI roVvoim iarxw" ntxphi/ iropeK/cMi'ov (Jt^ toS iSovs. Eth. 
 B. ii. cap. 1, 
 
Oxford University Reform. 399 
 
 <3eference, anfi reverence towards his elders, more 
 gentleness and loving-kindness to alL 
 
 Few will dispute that this r^Qos, especially in youth, 
 may be of great value. Keble certainly would have 
 -sacrificed a great deal of that which was more showy, 
 and more likely to advance a young man in the world, 
 to preserve it. I hope his notions about it are not 
 ■entirely out of fashion in the present day, and I 
 think it would be, and would denote, a great evil, if 
 -any constitutional or administrative reform should be 
 found to throw a blight on this grace at Oxford. 
 
 With regard to the respect due to the wills and in- 
 tentions of Founders, a question of great importance, 
 and very general application for the future, as well 
 -as the present, I do not think the Commissioners dif- 
 fered so much from Keble in the principle, as in the 
 application of it to particular cases ; they no more 
 than he, would have assented to the doctrine that 
 no respect was due to them. This may be a tenable 
 doctrine in a jurist's mouth, founded on the nature of 
 property generally, and, in England specially, on the 
 statutable and judicial restraints on the disposition 
 of it ;. but when all that is said and allowed, it is still 
 s. doctrine which is shocking not merely to ignorance 
 and prejudice, but to the most generous and reve- 
 rential feelings of our nature. I say nothing of the 
 impolicy of it. On the other hand, to maintain that 
 the intentions of Founders should for all time be con- 
 sidered in all respects sacred and inviolable, is neither 
 
400 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 reasonable, nor in a true sense deferential to them. 
 It was the duty, I conceive, of the Cotamissioners, so 
 far as they could, to place themselves in the position 
 of the Founders, to give them credit for wisdom, en- 
 lightenment, and justice ; and, so far as they could, 
 to ordain, as it might be believed they would have 
 ordained under the altered circumstances ; doing 
 away absolutely what had become useless or mis- 
 chievous, or impracticable, and advancing the ori- 
 ginal design in what was good in spirit, but nar- 
 row, or impeded in execution ; changing nothing 
 wantonly, but not staggering at the mere great- 
 ness of any change, if it fell within this principle. 
 I think they acted according to this ; they may 
 have erred, they probably did err sometimes ; but 
 I do not think they were actuated by a spirit which 
 Keble would on consideration have disapproved of. 
 
 It would be disingenuous, as well as foolish, to 
 deny that a difficulty will probably be experienced 
 in conducting the teaching of classes composed of 
 pupils of different denominations ; or that a danger 
 may exist when the tutors of a college, either simul- 
 taneously, or in succession, should be themselves of 
 dififerent persuasions. Wholly to overcome this seems 
 to me impossible. I remember Arnold telling me that 
 he should fear no difficulty, if he were Regius Pro- 
 fessor of Divinity, in lecturing, Greek Testament in 
 hand, a class of pupils of all denominations. I will only 
 say he was no common man ; but yet he never had 
 
Oxford University Reform. 401 
 
 to make the experiment ; moreover a Divinity class at 
 the University naturally implies one of which the far 
 greater part consists of those who are being prepared 
 for Holy Orders, and therefore presumably members 
 of the Church. If, however, it be part of the duty of 
 such a Professor to expose heresies, and shew how 
 they are to be guarded against ; or to explain and 
 confirm our Ecclesiastical Polity, ordinary men would 
 find it difficult, I think, if not impossible, to conduct 
 their lectures so peaceably and so effectively as my 
 dear friend anticipated. 
 
 But what cannot be denied to exist may yet be 
 much diminished in extent ; ability and good sense, 
 a conciliatory temper, with a spirit at once liberal 
 and firm, that manifestly pursues the truth yet with 
 consideration, and a large charity, will do much. 
 The Church of England would begin with great ad- 
 vantages, and it is fair to presume that Heads of 
 Houses would appoint College Tutors with a due 
 regard to the circumstances. And after all it has 
 with justice been asked. Have you security now 
 against the evils you foretel } unless some Colleges 
 are much belied, you have not. Many a thoughtful 
 and conscientious parent, I believe, now exposes his 
 son to the lectures and influence of tutors whose 
 religious opinions he condemns, on account of their 
 ability, their industry, or their moral influence for 
 good. And so, I apprehend, would it be found with 
 not a few Nonconformist parents ; as in the National 
 
 Dd 
 
4-02 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 Schools, the good master in a Church school at- 
 tracts the Dissenters' children of every denomina- 
 tion ; so at Oxford, I apprehend, the Tutor, de- 
 servedly popular on general grounds, will draw to 
 liis College, and influence, it may be, with his special 
 teaching, young men who have been brought up in 
 •opinions very much differing from his own; giving 
 them, for a time, at least, his own bias, but not al- 
 -ways settling them into a faith different from that in 
 ^which they were nursed, nor yet leading them "to 
 •<:are for none of these things ;" but making them 
 ffliore truly liberal ; by shewing them how much of 
 goodness and truth there exists among those who 
 liold that which they with some exaggeration as to 
 the fact have been accustomed to regard as mere 
 freethinking on the one hand, or as superstition or 
 |jriestcraft on the other. If it be said that these 
 -are but vague and hypothetical answers to distinct 
 •denunciations of evil, it must be remembered that 
 they are not the whole answer ; they are addressed 
 rather to deprecate exaggeration and heat ; to sug- 
 igest that in matters such as these the strictly logical 
 •deduction from the premises is not always found in 
 practice the true one ; other unregarded considera- 
 tions often intervening to qualify the conclusion ; 
 .and let me add, to warn excellent and earnest men 
 .against tlie embitterment which flows from unavail- 
 ing opposition to the inevitable. 
 
 I hope I may be forgiven, considering my per- 
 
Oxford University Reform. 403 
 
 sonal interest, not only for these last remarks, but 
 ,for having dwelt at so much length on the Oxford 
 Reform past, and that now impending, or on its trial. 
 If I have expressed my fears and doubts as to the 
 great measure recently determined on, I must not 
 be supposed to condemn the authors, or to speak 
 with unbecoming confidence. It would be unnatural 
 in me not to feel the most intense interest in the 
 future welfare of Oxford. All should agree that we 
 must consider the Oxford that is, as well as the Ox- 
 ford that is to be ; for myself, I would have sought 
 to give an access to those who have hitherto not had 
 it, free, as nearly as possible in the spirit of the old 
 University, Collegiate, and capable of gradually open- 
 ing more widely to meet what may be expected to 
 be a gradually increasing demand. I should have 
 thought this might be done by Colleges founding 
 Halls, in subordination to themselves, supplied with 
 Principals and Tutors of their appointment from 
 .among their own Fellows, and conducted on a strictly 
 domestic and economical principle. Keble College, 
 I may say in a parenthesis, though necessarily in 
 some degree exceptional, yet seems to me, speaking 
 reverently, to have been providentially founded at 
 this very time. What is demanded for Noncon- 
 formists is, at least, an equally just matter of claim 
 for Churchmen, who may desire to secure for their 
 ■children not merely an economical education, but 
 •one framed strictly on Church principles. It is well 
 
404 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 at such a time that a College should exist, to which 
 whoever resorts, (and I hope that access will be re- 
 fused to none on account of difference in religious 
 principles,) will enter with notice that there, at least, 
 the teaching he will receive will be that of the 
 Church of England, as Keble understood and sub- 
 scribed to it. 
 
 Upon much consideratioij I would have eveiything 
 in the Colleges, of profit as well as honour, that is 
 now to be gained after competitive examination, 
 open to all the Students in these Halls ; to this as 
 a conclusion necessary, and under the over-ruling 
 providence of God not a hurtful one, I have come 
 by slow steps, not very willingly taken. I fear in 
 this Keble and I should have differed ; but I would 
 have said to him, what I say now to some of his 
 dearest friends, (one especially of whom it would 
 be difficult to say whether Keble more loved, or ho- 
 noufed him, and whom he used to characterize as the 
 most hopeful of men,) recognize an inevitable neces- 
 sity, not the less inevitable because you may strug- 
 gle against it with partial success once and again ; 
 make a virtue of the necessity ; seek to guard your 
 concession with all such conditions as may in your 
 opinion make it most salutary for the future; but 
 remember that England is no longer what she was 
 when our colleges were founded, that her population 
 is not more increased in numbers than in wealth, and 
 in, at least, a certain and improveable kind of educa- 
 
Oxford University Reform. 405 
 
 tion and refinement ; in upward aspirations, to be 
 guided rather than checked ; and that the desire for 
 academical training it is almost unnatural for the 
 Universities to oppose ; that, consequently, they who 
 now besiege your citadel have at the very least a 
 plausible ground of right ; that their claim, if it be 
 indeed rightful, should and can only be satisfied by 
 full and frank concession, concession worthy of your- 
 selves ; that it is a case in which you give nothing, 
 if you give less than all ; that it is far better that 
 those who press on you should enter by the gates, 
 than through a breach, and that it is far more 
 Christian-like, and therefore far more politic, to ad- 
 mit them as brothers, than as conquerors. 
 
 KCbi vvv eaaov, firjBi aoi iJ,e\r}(rdra). 
 irdvTcos yap ov Treicreis viV ov jap einrtOijs' 
 "KaTTTaive S' avTos, ji-v] ti irr]fjLav9ys oSu. 
 
 From. Vind. 332, 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 1854, BISHOP OF NEW ZEALAND AT HURSLEY. 
 
 FRANCIS GEORGE COLERIDGE'S DEATH. — ^VISIT TO 
 THE WEST. — THE VINEYARD AND DARTINGTON 
 RECTORY. — ARCHDEACON WILBERFORCE. — SER- 
 VICE FOR EMIGRANTS. — NORTH OF DEVON. — PRO- 
 FESSOR REED. — DECISION OF THE DENISON CASE. 
 — TOUR IN NORTH WALES. — ARGUMENT ON THE 
 DIVORCE BILL.— DEPARTURE OF MR. YOUNG AND 
 FAMILY. — 1857, TOUR IN SWITZERLAND. — EUCHA- 
 RISTICAL ADORATION. 
 
 IT is high time that I should return to my narra- 
 tive, which I have interrupted too long by re- 
 marks of my own ; although on a subject which 
 seems to be but a part of that which, it has been, 
 seen, awakened the liveliest interest in Keble's mind. 
 As regarded his own little circle, and his parish, the 
 year 1854 was gliding peaceably away. The Wil- 
 sons were seeking health principally on Mrs. Wilson's 
 account on the Continent, and I have lying before 
 me a long letter from Keble to them, the greater 
 part of which is full of parish details. He had used 
 to receive such letters from Mr. Wilson when he was 
 himself away, and now he communicated to him. 
 
Letter to Mr. Wilson, 407' 
 
 abroad the same kind of details. He could tell hins 
 everything material as to Ampfield, and he kneiir 
 that Mr. Wilson continued to feel a strong interest im. 
 all that related to Hursley. 
 
 I will traiiscribe parts of this letter, which give- 
 a lively picture of Keble in his parochial ministra- 
 tions : — 
 
 " H. v., begun z"^ June,. 1854." 
 " My most dear friends, 
 " You will not have wondered, but you may well be ' put 
 out,' at not having heard from me so long after so very wel- 
 come a letter as you sent me. But you will bear it as you 
 have so many things. The chief matter that we have been; 
 thinking of lately has been poor Holmes. You will have 
 heard all particulars from Lady H. Very little passed be- 
 tween her and me that could be specified; indeed, froms- 
 the first time I saw her, she was too ill to say much ; but: 
 all was resigned, and peaceful, and warm-hearted.^ She- 
 asked to have the H. C. every Monday, and received it. 
 3 times ; the first time Charlotte was there ; the last, tbe- 
 whole body of the Nurses, her Sister, Mrs. C, Mrs. S., and' 
 the other servant who was so mach with her; she coalit' 
 not tlien speak at all, but was entirely conscious, and par- 
 ticularly soothed by thfe Commendatory Service, which T 
 read to her from the Visitatio Infirmorum. There was: 
 something she tried to say, but we could none of us make- 
 it out ; I begged her not to distress herself on that ac- 
 count, and from her countenance I don't think she did. 
 She was buried at Ampfield this morning, rather near to* 
 the Grave we all think of, though not so near as Lady H- 
 -wished ; however, I hope it will have been all right. I love. 
 
408 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 to think of her, and of Lady H., and the groupe of Patk 
 Servants waiting on her. 
 
 " Peter Young wrote very cheerfully of himself the other 
 day, and talked of being home in three weeks, I am thank- 
 ful to say. I believe he is much better, but I don't expect 
 him to be well enough for work for a good while, and I am 
 much afraid of his worrying himself ill again. We have the 
 two girls and little Edward with us, and a great splotch of 
 sunshine they make in the house, especially the boy ; and 
 you would be amused by Jemmy's funny consequential 
 ways, when he comes here on leave-out days. I hope and 
 trust he is doing well in fnaterial points. I wish you could 
 be at home at one or two things that are coming on, as the 
 Clyristening of this 15"" Moberly, who, some say, may per- 
 haps be called Cyril; the Bp. of New Zealand in our 
 School-Room on Friday next, with Mrs. Selwyn, and, I 
 hope, Johnny. 
 
 " This place, I am sorry to say, distresses me almost 
 more than ever ; there is , something very very bad going 
 on among the young people, and I cannot fathom it, any 
 more than Bessy can why people are ever naughty ; a ques- 
 tion she asked to-day at breakfast. 
 
 "As to public matters, I will not say anything, they are 
 got beyond me. I am sure people mean what is right, but 
 somehow it has got strangely blended with what one has 
 been used to think very wrong. One thing I fancy I dis- 
 cern, that the Puritan Party is getting on amazingly. I 
 fully expect that before long Oxford will be thrown open 
 to all but R. C's. 
 
 " And so with dear love to you, Maria, Mary, or Miriam, 
 and to both the youngsters, I am always yours, J. K." 
 
 The person whose illness, death, and burial, he 
 
Bishop of New Zealand at Hursley. 409 
 
 speaks of in this letter, had been a faithful and fa- 
 vourite servant in the Trench family, and, among 
 other services, had tenderly nursed a sister of Mrs. 
 Wilson through her last illness. It is the grave of 
 this lady in Ampfield Churchyard, of which Keble 
 speaks, near to which it had been desired that 
 the servant should be laid. In her illness, when it 
 became serious. Lady Heathcote had brought her to 
 Hursley Park, where she died ; which explains the 
 incidents he describes so simply and feelingly. 
 
 It was on the whole a tranquil time for Keble, or 
 rather, I should say, no external anxieties prevented 
 him from cheerful family meetings or parochial cele- 
 bi-ations. The visit which he speaks of as antici- 
 pating from the Bishop of New Zealand to his 
 school-room, took place, and Johnny, who was a 
 great favourite of his, was of the party. 
 
 My extracts take me sometimes far back into the 
 lives of those who are now, it may be, filling their 
 own responsible places in their professions ; but I 
 do not like to cut out these little notices, and I 
 trust not to give offence to the Jemmy and Johnny 
 who find themselves here introduced as children. 
 
 It was a common practice with Keble, whenever 
 lie could, to procure for his , school children, and 
 any of the parishioners who might like to assemble, 
 the entertainment and instruction which a Colonial 
 Bishop, a missionary, or a traveller, might be willing 
 to afford them by some account of what he had 
 
4IO Memoir of the Rev. yofin Keble. 
 
 seen, or done, or suffered in foreign lands, and by 
 a description of the people or the country. Those- 
 who have the honour of being acquainted with the 
 Bishop of New Zealand, especially those who may 
 have seen him with children in a school-room, and 
 witnessed his wonderful gifts, I may call them, of 
 adaptation and illustration, of rendering things un- 
 known before easy of comprehension and interesting" 
 to his audience, will understand what instruction and 
 amusement Keble probably procured on this occa- 
 sion for the young and uneducated of his flock. 
 Nor for them only. He himself was among those- 
 who, perhaps, were as much delighted as the chil- 
 dren and villagers ; and perhaps also in some mat- 
 ters not less instructed. He had talk of course witk 
 him besides on higher subjects, and, it will be seen, 
 by a letter which I will not withhold from my readers,, 
 he did not in all points agree with him. Before they 
 read it, however, I desire that they should consider 
 that, in 1854, the Bishop's large plans for the con- 
 stituting the Church in New Zealand were scarcely 
 matured, and only partially tried in practice, and that 
 in some respects they departed from the primitive- 
 models, to which Keble had always looked up duti- 
 fully and reverently ; he might, therefore, be well 
 allowed to doubt of their wisdom without diminu- 
 tion.of his high esteem for the man. I do not think 
 that it is to be inferred at all from anything he writes,. 
 that were he now alive, and had seen the working of 
 
Bishop of New Zealand at Hursley. 4 1 r 
 
 the constitution in New Zealand, or could now see 
 the partial adaptation of it, which the same great 
 man is attempting in his present diocese in Eng- 
 land, he would have found any ground for differing 
 with him. One or two matters there are in which I 
 fear, unless he misunderstood the Bishop, he would 
 have still differed, and many will think, not without 
 justification. It is no disparagement of Bishop Sel- 
 •wyn to say that Keble knew more of the character 
 and dangers, in England at least, of Romanism on 
 the one hand, and Rationalism on the other, espe- 
 cially that he knew more of the working of either 
 spirit in the Universities, at least in Oxford. It 
 ■was not that he thought too lightly of the former ; 
 nor did he doubt that there was ground for appre- 
 hension ; but he believed with the strongest convic- 
 tion that the issue of the latter in Oxford might be 
 infidelity ; and he thought, (and what unprejudiced 
 believer can doubt that he was right ?) that honest 
 secessions to Rome were but slight evils, however 
 great in themselves, in comparison with fallings off 
 to infidelity. I say nothing here of what is called 
 Ritualism ; at the time I am now writing about, it 
 was so entirely in its infancy as to attract little 
 attention. I say the less on the subject of what 
 Keble calls the Bishop's Protestantisms ; my read- 
 ers will know what Keble's convictions early and. 
 late were in regard to this matter, how uncatholic 
 he thought Dissent, direct or indirect, and we do 
 
41 2 Memoir of the Rev. yohn Kehle. 
 
 not know to what expressions of the Bishop he is 
 alluding. 
 
 The following letter to Dyson, on the 7th of July, 
 1854, I desire to be read with reference to these re- 
 marks ; it may be thought they have been too long, 
 but I have not the gift of expressing myself shortly, 
 and I should be very much distressed, if for want 
 of some such introduction, I gave pain by publish- 
 ing it :— 
 
 "Wlien is the great Bishop coming to you? for I am 
 very desirous of having a finger in that pie ; so you must 
 not wonder if I should happen to drop in at the time, and 
 I shall make sure of getting a bed somewhere within reach. 
 I have an extreme desire to hear you questioning, and him 
 answering. I am afraid though I must confess, (will your 
 sister forgive me ?) that my courage has a little cooled as 
 to going along with him, since he was here. Impossible as 
 it is not to admire and love him, he makes me shiver now 
 and then with his Protestantisms, crying up the Ch. Miss. 
 Society, abusing Becket at St. Augustine's as ' a haughty 
 Prelate,' and encouraging in his tendencies the same way. 
 I am told his Ordination Sermon at Cuddesdon was alto- 
 gether Anti-Roman, as if there were no other evil spirit 
 than Popery now possessing Oxford. It is very horrid to 
 find any fault, but I tell you all this, that you may order 
 your logic as you think best with him. Well, this is cross- 
 ness enough for one time." 
 
 I have little doubt that much passed at the meet- 
 ing which would have been well worth listening to, 
 and nothing which disturbed the kindly feeling be- 
 
Francis George Coleridge's Death. 413 
 
 tween the two. In the following month he had the 
 great pleasure of family visitors at home. 
 
 "We have had a gathering," says he, writing to me on 
 the 25th of August, "for which we ought to be very thank- 
 ful ; both Bisley and Vineyard have been here, and it was 
 a thorough family fortnight, only too pleasant. Peter Young 
 is home again, much mended, but still in a delicate state. 
 However, we live in hopes of returning our family visits 
 before winter ; and if we can, worit we come to Heath's 
 Court for a short visit, at least ? we shall not need pressing 
 if we can manage it." 
 
 In this letter he expresses a hope that a dear bro- 
 ther of mine, of whom he was very fond, might be 
 recovering from an illness under which he was then 
 lying ; but it pleased God to release him on the very 
 day after his letter was written, and on the 29th he 
 wrote to me again : — 
 
 " My DEAREST Coleridge, 
 " I did not somehow expect the account you sent me, 
 and it is a sad thing to me to think of, that I lingered so 
 long in writing. And so he is gone without a kind word 
 from me, so kind and loving as he always was to me. May 
 it please God to soften the blow to you and all the rest, and 
 to make it rather medicinal than otherwise. ... It is com- 
 forting, and yet alarming, to see so many of oiie's own 
 standing go, and all seeming so much more ready than one 
 feels oneself to be. Only think, it is 41 years since I "first 
 knew your kind brotheir, and I wish I may not have been 
 going down hill rather than up. God help us to pray for 
 
414 IJemoir of the Rev. jfokn Keble. 
 
 ■ourselves, and for one another. With affectionate love to 
 you all, I am always, dearest friend, most truly yours, J. K." 
 
 I do not mention my brother's death, and cite 
 these passages merely because they relate to my- 
 self, but Keble's love for him was characteristic of 
 himself. My brother was a man leading a perfectly 
 retired and quiet life, free from ambition for him- 
 self, but rejoicing in the success of those he loved ; 
 pursuing steadily an humble vocation, that of an 
 attorney ; and finding his graver pleasures in doing 
 acts of kindness, his lighter in his garden, his books, 
 and the antiquarian researches which our interesting 
 •old Church favoured ; this was the sort of man in 
 whom Keble delighted ; he sought out not the man of 
 talents or learning, so much as the good, and gentle, 
 and loveable. 
 
 He began to make his summer excursion in Sep- 
 tember, 1854, and I heard from him dating from the 
 Vineyard, where the Champernownes resided, between 
 Totness and Dartington, proposing to come to us in 
 his way home ; but he was then anticipating an event 
 .as near, which he had been dreading for some time, 
 the secession of Archdeacon Wilberforce to the Church 
 of Rome. From extracts which I have made in for- 
 mer letters, it will have been seen how much he loved 
 and respected his old pupil, and what a specially bit- 
 ter sorrow the loss of him was to him : — 
 
 " God grant," says lie, " that those who are near and dear 
 
Letter from the Vineyard. 415 
 
 to one another may keep more together than tliey have 
 done of late. 
 
 " This Archdeacon, (he is speaking of the late Arch- 
 deacon Froude, who was still flourishing in a green old age 
 at tlie Rectory at Dartington,) is very refreshing to see." 
 
 He wrote also to Mr. Wilson from the Vineyard on 
 the 1 8th of September : — 
 
 " It is very pleasant being here, and seeing a newspaper 
 only once or twice a-week, and walking among real live 
 hedges, with no thought of grubbing, and paring, and burn- 
 ing, and wattle-hurdles along each side of the road. And 
 this Archdeacon is quite as he used to be, except old age, 
 vronderfuUy strong in voice ; and the memory of R. H. F. 
 is very fragrant. We go to Ottery for a few days on Friday, 
 and mean to make our way to Bisley, perhaps by the North 
 of Devon, so that on the whole I expect to be 3 Sundays 
 away from home ; but we have the comfort of hearing that 
 Peter is improving in our absence. I hope to go to Ox- 
 ford, among other things, to put the Sacra Privata to the 
 press. Poor dear R. W., I own I was surprised at last ; for 
 the last report I had heard was an improved one, and 
 I had heard nothing for a long time. ... I dare say your 
 account of it is the right one ; but it disappoints and mor- 
 tifies one to see one, who used to be so truthful and candid, 
 lending himself at once to the violent contradictions of fact, 
 and fetitiones frincipii, which are quite necessary to every 
 part almost of the Roman Theory. I wish I could com- 
 jjose, and write on it, it would be a sort of relief. In 
 tlieory, I think, his position of Lay Communion is tenable, 
 at least, I wish to think so ; for at the rate men are getting 
 ■on, no one can say how soon he may himself be reduced. 
 
41 6 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 to it. But I do not in the least expect that R, W. will have 
 patience for it. I hear he is very miserable ; from himself 
 
 I have only had one short and kind note 
 
 " I am in correspondence with Rogers about a service for 
 Emigrants on their voyage ; a very pleasant work, if one had 
 nothing else to do. And the other day I saw Bp. Words- 
 worth and his really beautiful family of children. I can- 
 not tell you how kind he was, and how I admired his quiet 
 cheerful way of alluding to his own difficulties. Well, now 
 I must say good bye, with our dear love to you all ; and in 
 hope of knowing more than I do about the Simplon be- 
 fore long. I am always yours most lovingly, J. K." 
 
 They came to us on the 24th, and left us on the 
 26th ; too short a visit, but a very pleasant one ; 
 saddened only by our talk about the secession I have 
 just mentioned, and by his apprehension for the con- 
 sequences. We went together to see Mrs. George 
 Cornish ; it vv^as a great pleasure to him to see her, 
 as she was, residing in the house where he had once 
 been so familiar, with her large family ; and bravely, 
 yet not ostentatiously, bearing up against the sor- 
 rows that had befallen her. 
 
 They left us for the North of Devon, and intending 
 by that route to go into Gloucestershire to Bisley. 
 It must have been a great pleasure to him once more 
 after the long interval to re-visit again the romantic 
 country, which had so delighted him when young. 
 But I did not hear from him until November, on the 
 6th of which month he wrote to me from Hursley : — > 
 
Letter from Hursley. /s^iy 
 
 " Dearest Friend, 
 " I"t really seems quite unnatural when I think of it, to 
 have been so long without thanking you for all your affec- 
 tionate love and care of us. God reward you for it, and 
 yours also, both of Heath's Court, of the Manor House, 
 and of Feniton. I would not but have paid that visit to 
 Ottery for a very great deal. And our Circuit was alto- 
 gether prosperous. We met the girls at Exeter, shot across 
 to Barnstaple, staid two days at Linton, and one at Stinch- 
 combe, and over two Sundays at Bisley, paying a visit from 
 thence to Fairfbrd, and Coin, and Cirencester ; and we also 
 saw something of Bussage. So that on the whole it was 
 a complete Family Tour, and very comfortable it was 
 in every way; the 'cumulus' being 'imposed' upon it by 
 young Tom, his wife, and Babe, coming here for three 
 weeks ; they only left us on Friday last ; and I am only 
 afraid we are too proud of them. But it is a wholesome 
 check that my nephew makes one ashamed of oneself; 
 however, I will not talk about that. I hope your visit from 
 Worcestershire was a great joy, and that dear Frank's family 
 are going on as comfortably as circumstances allow. John 
 told me, what I was most deeply grieved at, the loss of our 
 kind friends in the ' Arctic,' and how much you felt it. In- 
 deed, I suppose it must be looked upon as a public ca- 
 lamity ; for probably there are few such as Professor Reed 
 left in the United States. But the comfort in thinking of 
 such as he (no doubt) was, is solid and growing, — not so 
 the thought of poor dear R. W., whose departure touches 
 me almost more nearly than any one's ; except, perhaps, that 
 of Newman himself. I did not until very lately think that 
 he would leally go fAere. I thought he was too good- 
 tempered, besides his learning and truthfulness. But he 
 had got into an Utopian dream, and ratlier than give it 
 
 E e 
 
41 8 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 vip, he shut his eyes and made a jump, and now he must, 
 and I suppose will, keep his eyes shut all his life long-J? 
 
 A word or two it seems fitting to add by way of 
 comment on these extracts. I think it is not the 
 first time that Keble had given utterance to his feel- 
 ings about the grabbing, and paring, which he con- 
 nected with high-farming ; it was really a passioa 
 with him, his love for coppices, hedge-rows, and wild- 
 flowers ; a few years before he had expressed it in 
 the beautiful " Round Robin," which he drew up for 
 .Anemone Nemorosa, Primula Vulgaris, and others 
 of the same family, which will be found in his poems, 
 addressed to the Lord of the Manor of Merdon. It 
 is dated from Ladwell Hill, where he often lingered 
 in his parish visitings, and soothed his mind under 
 parish troubles, and other causes of distress, gazing- 
 on the poor petitioners, who were, as he feared, now 
 -doomed to give way to the*plough : — 
 
 " To himself we've heard him say, 
 ' Thanks that I may hither stray ; 
 Worn with age, and sin, and care. 
 Here to breathe the pure glad aiii 
 Here Faith's lesson learn anew, 
 Of this happy vernal crew ; 
 Here the fragrant shrubs around. 
 And the graceful shadowy ground, 
 And the village tones afar. 
 And the steeple with its star. 
 And the clouds tliat gently move. 
 Tune the heart to trust and love.' " 
 
Service for Emigrants. 419 
 
 Ladwell Hill, I hope, will for many generations be 
 •sacred to the memory of John Keble ; I am sure it 
 will be so, as long as the present Lord of the Manor 
 lives. It is a pity perhaps to disturb the feeling 
 which the poem cannot fail to create ; but in justice 
 to the "Giant High Farming," (as I am told on the 
 best authority,) it must be said that he had nothing 
 to do with what was contemplated, or done in regard 
 to the hedge-rows. Dear as they were to the Peti- 
 tioners and to the Poet, they were obnoxious to an- 
 other Rural Deity scarcely less powerful than the 
 Giant, with whom also the Poet was on very good 
 "terms, by name Landscape Gardening. She desired 
 to let into view from the Park, the meadows, across 
 which the hedge-rows ran, and which they concealed. 
 The irregular forms of these meadows also, when laid 
 open to view, made picturesque breaks in what had 
 before seemed a continuous line of wood ; this sur- 
 mounted the whole scene, and the breaks in it pro- 
 duced a much more graceful effect. So much, not 
 too much I hope for the sake of accuracy, even in 
 a little matter. 
 
 Keble speaks of Sir Frederic Rogers's application 
 to him respecting a Service for Emigrants during 
 their voyage. Sir Frederic was at that time one of 
 the Emigration Commissioners ; he appealed on be- 
 half of a very interesting portion of our fellow- 
 subjects, and in respect of one of their pressing 
 Tvants. This was just a matter which Keble would 
 
420 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 .delight to be employed in, and the result, without 
 waiting until he had nothing else to do, was a very 
 nicely arranged service with three really beautiful 
 hymns. I am afraid that although the service is 
 still pirinted and distributed to the emigrants, the 
 hymns, for what reason I know not, are omitted ; 
 they will be found, however, in the forthcoming 
 volume of his poems. 
 
 He speaks also with true feeling, and renders no- 
 more than a just tribute to the memory of Heniy 
 Reed, Professor of Rhetoric and English Literature 
 in the University of Pennsylvania. It has been my 
 good fortune to know and to have received as my 
 guests several citizens of the United States, espe- 
 cially from Pennsylvania ; and I have the great honour 
 to count among my friends, only through the medium 
 of a long and intimate correspondence, (for we have 
 never met,) that wise and loving-hearted old man, 
 Horace Binney, the great citizen of Philadelphia. 
 Taken as samples, these shew me what rare and 
 gifted men are to be found in the great Republic. 
 Henry R,eed it was impossible to know without 
 loving him ; he came with his sister-in-law, Miss 
 Brownson, from a great distance to bid us farewell 
 immediately before their return to America; and 
 they came just at the time of my brother's death. 
 They heard of this event only when within a few 
 miles of my house, and though they still came on, 
 it was only to shake hands with us ; we could not 
 
Professor Reed of Pennsylvania. 42 1 
 
 induce them to stay. I remember that we walked 
 on my little terrace until the light failed. Miss 
 Brownson, who was as a mother to his children, 
 visited my grandchildren in their beds ; for both 
 were full of his own treasures at home, arid she 
 wished to describe an English nursery to them ; and 
 so we parted, he promising to bring his wife to visit 
 us the next summer. He then went to Rydal to 
 bid farewell to Mrs. Wordsworth, and in a few days 
 wrote to me shortly from Liverpool. The next thing 
 I heard of him was his death in the miserable col- 
 lision of the "Arctic" steamer with a French vessel. 
 He and his sister, it is said, were seen sitting to- 
 gether hand locked in hand, silent and tranquil, 
 calmly awaiting their fate, but a few minutes be- 
 fore the ship went down with nearly all the pas- 
 sengers, who had been left on board, and, as it is 
 said, left shamefully on board, by a cowardly com- 
 mander and crew, escaping themselves in safety ". 
 
 " My friend, Mr. Biniiey, writing to me in respeet of tliis narrative, 
 makes this comment, which I gladly insert, and must express ray 
 sincere regret for any injustice of which I may have been guilty : — 
 "There is a single word in your reference to Capt. Luce, and the 
 'Arctic,' which does not precisely exhibit our version of his part in 
 that most deplorable case. The account, you must have had in Eng- 
 land, is not ours ; which my son informs me isi in that part more 
 accurate. Capt. Luce behaved ill in the first stage of the collision. 
 He did not maintain his command of the crew, and resist, as he ought 
 to have done to death if necessary, the cowardly seizure of the principal 
 boat by the crew, and their desertion of the ship. Luce, however, 
 said that he would not leave the ship, and would not permit his young 
 son to get to the boat, though the crew offered to take him. He and 
 
422 Memoir of the Rev. yokn Keble. 
 
 I trust to be forgiven this passing mention of my 
 friend, but the way in which Keble speaks of him 
 reminds me of the American feeling towards him- 
 self. The circulation of the " Christian Year" in the 
 United States has fallen little short of that which 
 it has had here. Again and again my American 
 friends, and sometimes even strangers, have sought 
 for an introduction from me to him. I remember 
 •well a gentleman, one of the former, the son indeed 
 to whom Mr. Binney alludes in the note below, with 
 whom I visited Hursley Park. In the morning we 
 walked down to the Service, and when it was over,, 
 we had a long talk with Keble. At the close, and as 
 we were taking leave at the Vicarage porch, which 
 is covered with ivy, my friend drew me apart, and 
 asked me if I thought Mr. Keble would take it 
 amiss, if he begged of him a branch of the ivy, cut 
 with his own hand. Keble was much amused, and 
 cut it for him, as of course, and unsparingly. As we 
 two walked away, he said, "You may smile at my 
 request, but I assure you I know and could name 
 the persons at home who would give me, (I am 
 afraid to mention the sum he mentioned,) for every 
 leaf I have in any hand." 
 
 The winter of 1854 passed away, and I see by our 
 
 his boy both went down with the ship, and when lie rose to the 
 surface of the sea, he saw one of tlie ship's round tops, or a part of 
 a wheel-guard, or cover, and got upon it, and so I tliink did the son." 
 
 His bad or wealc conduct at first, excluded him afterwards from- 
 Bmritime service ; he left it certainly, and is no longer spoken of. 
 
Proceedings against Archdeacon Denison. 423 
 
 correspondence that he was busying himself a good 
 deal with, and very anxious about, the proceedings, 
 against Archdeacon Denison, and I received many- 
 letters from him about them ; but I shall pass this 
 matter over yery shortly, not because I think the 
 doctrine involved in it of any but the gravest im- 
 portance, or that I differed from my friend in his 
 belief in regard to it ; but that I thought as I stiil 
 think, it Tvas in that ciase needlessly and unsatis- 
 factorily made the subject of litigation. 
 
 I must confess, therefore, that I was not sorry whei* 
 the case went off on a bye-point, and the issue raised 
 received no decision from the Court of Appeal. In- 
 deed, I have never been able to see what the Church 
 has gained in certainty of teaching, though I' fear it 
 has lost not a little, at least for a time, in chai'ity of 
 judgment, by the several cases carried of late years 
 before ecclesiastical and lay tribunals in respect of 
 assumed heresy or schism. What has Ritualism 
 gained or lost by Westerton v. Liddell, or the be- 
 lief in Baptismal Regeneration by Mr. Gorham's Ap- 
 peal ; the Catholic doctrine in regard to the Holy 
 Eucharist by the suit I have just mentioned above, 
 or the hold of the fundamental verities of the Chris- 
 tian faith on the minds of Christians by the proceed- 
 ings against the " Essays and Reviews .*"' I believe 
 little or nothing ; certainly nothing fit to be com- 
 pared with the distress of mind to thousands of tender 
 souls, and the fatal offence which some of these cases 
 
424 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 gave to over-scrupulous, and as I think mistaken per- 
 sons ; who, although they thought the Anglican be- 
 lief, our creeds, formularies, and articles, orthodox, and 
 the decisions erroneous, yet abandoned the former 
 on account of the latter. Of course I am not sug- 
 gesting that no such litigation should ever be in- 
 stituted, and I do not forget the solemn undertaking 
 of the Bishop on his Consecration. It would seem 
 presumptuous in me to say a word in limitation, or 
 explanation, of the words then used ; our Fathers in 
 the Church will act, it must be presumed, each ac- 
 cording to his own understanding of their obligation ; 
 yet it seems, at least, hard to conceive that any one 
 is bound by them to appeal to a tribunal, the con- 
 stitution of which he thinks to be uncanonical, or the 
 decisions of which he holds to proceed on unsound 
 principles ; especially when so much may be done in 
 the spirit of the undertaking by other means. 
 
 Keble's motive, indeed, was a different one. He 
 was very sensitive to the imputation, which he feared 
 he might labour under, of adhering to the Church 
 from interested motives ; and therefore he desired 
 in his own case on some occasions, that his be- 
 lief, or his practice, if impugned, should be brought 
 under some authoritative judicial cognizance. It 
 was, however, always I think more wisely con- 
 sidered that such a reference was neither necessary 
 nor expedient. 
 
 Mr. Wilson remained abroad and in Italy in the 
 
Letter to Mr, Wilson. 425 
 
 spring of 1855, and appears to have interested Keble 
 very much by- his letters therefrom. On the 6th of 
 May he wrote a long answer, from which I will make 
 some extracts ; a great deal of it is devoted to parish 
 matters : — 
 
 " My very dear Friends, 
 
 " Here is a letter from you, Robert, whicli came in this 
 morning, lying as yet unopened ; because I feel as if the 
 beginning of it would be less heart-breaking, or, however, 
 I hope to feel less unworthy of it, if I make a decent be- 
 ginning of this before I unseal it. I am really very peni- 
 tent, but you would partly forgive me, if you knew how 
 tired my hand gets by the time I have written a letter or \ 
 s. Sermon. Else full gladly would I have accepted the ex- 
 •ercise of writing to you in exchange for the 2 last things 
 which have hindered me from it ; a long Anti-Roman letter 
 
 to a Lady, and a sketch for , of part of an argument 
 
 against this bill for letting people marry their wives' sisters, 
 which is now in full career again. Well, however, now I 
 have really begun, and I wztl go on I am ' termed.' . . 
 
 " I think it might not be a bad time to suggest to our 
 worthy friend the Public the notion of having a brotherhood 
 for Education, like the Freres Chretiens ; who, as an Eccle- 
 siastical Body, would be under control, and from their slight 
 touch of Asceticism would work as cheaply as they could. 
 I have long had it in my mind to suggest this to you ; it 
 would be quite in your line to undertake it, (among other 
 things,) from your knowing so much of the Christian Bro- 
 thers ; pray think of it while," (as you may guess by the 
 above,) [here a line is drawn up to some blunders in the 
 writing,] I indulge myself in a small nap. 
 
 " Well, I have read your kind, long letter, and cannot 
 
426 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 tell you how much I am obliged to you for it ; it does but 
 confirm the impression which one is daily receiving from 
 all one can read or hear of the matter, that Rome, so far as- 
 she is distinctive, builds not only upon falsehood, but upon 
 falsehood of which she has a certain consciousness ; only 
 she has made up her mind that it is her duty to back up- 
 her system, (being, she says, substantially true,) with any 
 amount of needful, or very profitable deception. The Le- 
 gendary services in the Breviary, with that for the 15"" Au- 
 gust at the head, are a standing instance of this ; and so 
 wiU .this new doctrine be, in whatever degree they allege 
 antiquity for it. They cannot but know in their hearts, 
 that it has not the shadow of a Tradition ; and yet see 
 
 what their Abp. of Armagh, poor dear 's select patroik 
 
 says of it. Most fearful it is to me, that neither among .the 
 more moderate Romanists, nor among our Romanizers,. 
 (with one exception that E. B. P. told me of,) does it seem 
 to have produced any sort of scruple or re-action. From 
 the highest to the lowest they satisfy themselves, I imagine, 
 with your friend's argument, ' How can we be certain that 
 it is not so?' 
 
 " Your account of Rome really makes one shudder, when 
 one connects with it this idea of unreality, and comes nearer 
 than anything for years past to bring back the old Ultra- 
 Protestant notions that one learned as a boy out of Newton 
 on the Prophecies. With it (i.e. with your account) on my 
 mind, I feel as if I would go miles out of my way to avoid 
 seeing Rome; it seems so very shocking; and if this be 
 a man's feeling, I suppose there would be no special danger 
 in going there, and he would be free to choose as healtli 
 and convenience and other duties dictated. But I should 
 be very thankful on a great many accounts, if you are able- 
 to get work and stay here. We really have need of all the- 
 
Letter to Mr. Wilson. 427 
 
 help we can get. Outwardly our friends from Exeter Hall 
 are having it all their own way ; all appointments, public 
 meetings, &c. But underneath is, I much fear, a deep and 
 gradually swelling tide of Rationalism, in unison with tlie- 
 revolutionary spirit, which has disclosed itself upon occa- 
 sion of these mismanagements in the War. But enough 
 and too much of this croaking. I saw a letter the other 
 day from Moorsom to Upton Richards, dated, I think,. 
 Easter Monday, in very good spirits, and altogether com- 
 fortable. Also I know you will be glad to hear that I think 
 your successor is making his way very nicely in the place 
 and neighbourhood ; he puts me often in mind of George- 
 Herbert's lines : — 
 
 ' Be useful where thou lirest, that they may 
 Both want and wish thy pleasing presence still.' 
 
 I find myself continually resorting to him, as in old time to- 
 dear W. C. Y. At this present he is superintending a nego- 
 tiation for a new Clock in our Church. .... 
 
 " Dear Mrs. Heathcote, you know better than I, was a - 
 great loss ; it was very touching to be with her son just 
 afterwards. Thirty-five years ago I think it was that I saw 
 them first together, and I thought then I never saw a Mo- 
 ther and Son on such lover-like terms ; and they have never 
 
 been apart for six months together With dear love to- 
 
 your wife arid bairns, ever yours afiect'^, J. Ti." 
 
 It will be seen how Keble speaks of the new Hogma 
 of the Immaculate Conception, and he felt the same 
 as long as he lived. The promulgation of it pained 
 him much ; it constituted in his opinion, so long as . 
 it remained unrevoked, an absolute bar to the unity 
 of Christendom. In this letter he specifies one ob- 
 
428 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 jection to it on which in all such cases he relied 
 much, that not only was there no authority for it 
 in Holy Writ, but, as he expresses it, not a shadow 
 of tradition. It will be obvious, that his reliance on 
 this involves his denial of others of the foundations 
 on which Romanism rests ; as for example, the infal- 
 libility of the Pope, and his supreme power in mat- 
 ters of faith. 
 
 I make no apology to Sir W. Heathcote for print- 
 ing- the short extract relating to his mother. It will 
 give many pleasure to look at the picture which 
 Keble paints like a poet in a single word, and I 
 am sure it will give him no pain to have such recol- 
 lections revived. Fifteen years before, I think, she 
 had been visited with a serious illness, a paralytic 
 seizure, the effeots of which on her bodily frame 
 were never removed ; but her m.ind was spared to 
 the last, and she passed away in 1855 in her son's 
 house, in which she had lived during the interval, 
 painlessly and peacefully, from gradual and gentle 
 decay, rather than from illness, in the presence of 
 the son, who. was thankful to God that he was al- 
 lowed " to watch her last breath." 
 
 I thinlc the case of Westerton and Liddell was de- 
 cided in this year, 1855. Keble's opinions in regard 
 to Ritualism will have to be noticed more fully here- 
 after, but I may say in passing that this decision 
 vexed him a good deal, though he did not exaggerate 
 its importance. I had allowed him to read a very 
 
Letter from New Zealand. 429 
 
 beautiful letter to myself from my nephew, now 
 Bishop Patteson, who had attached himself to the 
 Bishop of New Zealand, and gone out with him in 
 the spring of 1855 to that island. Keble wrote on the 
 two subjects to me on the nth of December, 1855 '• — 
 
 " Thank you over and over again for. the sight of that 
 noble, tender letter; surely it is one of the most perfect 
 things altogether that one ever met with in this worky-day 
 world. One cannot, as the people say, think enough of it. 
 Surely there must be in store some very good thing for the 
 Church in those parts, that such men should be attracted 
 
 towards it. It is enough to make up for pretending 
 
 to determine how Christian People should think of and 
 behave to the Holy Sacrament. I have something to write 
 to you on that matter, which I shall try and put on another 
 piece of paper, for my own mind's relief, for I don't suppose 
 it can be 'of any use. No doubt, as you say, there is a ten- 
 dency in all this to drive unstable minds to Rome. The 
 souls, however, must be very unstable, indeed, less settled 
 than the loosest possible tooth, if such a matter can cough 
 them out from among us. For what is it to the proof or 
 disproof of the Pope's Supremacy, or the ruling powers of 
 the B. V. M., whether I may have a Cross on the Altar 
 Table, or no ? Though I must own, I do expect that when 
 these outward signs of the Truth are suppressed, the Truth 
 itself which they symbolize will be openly persecuted, and 
 probably forbidden to be taught in the Estabhshed Chmrch ; 
 but not a bit the nearer should one be to Rome for that, as 
 I understand the matter." 
 
 The state of Mrs. Keble's health during this year 
 fluctuated much, but generally speaking it was such.- 
 
430 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 as to cause him anxiety ; and though, as he said 
 affectionately in one of his letters to me, refer- 
 ring to another cause of discomfort, " As for Char- 
 lotte, I know nothing can .really hurt her ;" yet there 
 was so much doubt as to the real cause of her ail- 
 ments, and they were so variously accounted for at 
 different times, as much to increase his uneasiness. 
 However, he tried again the remedy, which was 
 never without some effect, and I find several letters 
 to Mr. Wilson dated from North Wales ; they were 
 at Llandudno, and Capel Curig, and, I believe, 
 Barmouth in August ; and before they returned 
 to Hursley, they visited the Bishop of Oxford at 
 Lavington. The trip answered in some measure for 
 lier ; but his letters shew that wherever he went, he 
 carried his Church anxieties with him, and beyond 
 these, his Church work also. After " tossing about 
 the South Downs for a few days," he was busy now 
 with the present Archdeacon Freeman, in comparing 
 their notes about two proposed Hymnals, Sarum and 
 Scottish. 
 
 Indeed, he never rested ; and if he was anxious 
 for his wife's health, her anxiety for him was very 
 great ; and earlier in the year it had led her, with- 
 out his knowledge, to communicate with me respect- 
 ing him. Her account of his ailments, and his deter- 
 -mined exposure of himself in parochial ministrations, 
 >even at night when suffering under erysipelas, infected 
 me with her fears. The necessity for imprudent ex- 
 
Separation from Mr. Young. 431 
 
 posure often arose from his excellent Curate bein^ 
 only a Deacon, and unable to obtain Priest's Orders. 
 This was a matter of conscience between the Bishop 
 and him, in which of course I could not without 
 difficulty interfere. At last, however, from anxiety 
 for one friend, and confidence in the personal kind- 
 ness of the other, I made an attempt, which was 
 unsuccessful ; and the consequence was the separa- 
 tion of Keble and Mr. Young ; a separation pecu- 
 liarly bitter, as there was the greatest intimacy and 
 ^ connection between the families ; and the services 
 of the Curate were so dutiful, and earnest, and so 
 Acceptable to the parishioners, that without any re- 
 flection on his successors I may in justice say, they 
 never were, and scarcely could be entirely replaced. 
 As I had no right to interfere, so I desire to be 
 understood as making no reflection on the decision ; 
 there was, I am certain, nothing personal in it ; the 
 motive was a conscientious one, and however I might 
 regret the judgment at the time, it is not for me to 
 reflect upon it. 
 
 I went on the Winter Circuit into the West this 
 year, and saw Keble for a very pleasant Sunday 
 •evening at Hursley Park on the 30th of November. 
 I had come out from Winchester after the morning 
 service to the afternoon service at Hursley; there 
 was no party, and we had some quiet talk together ; 
 but my work was very heavy, and distressing, and I 
 had no time to see him again. His mind, however. 
 
432 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 was now at, work on the Divorce Bill, which was 
 about ,to be brought into Parliament. I need not 
 say how strongly he felt against the measure, which" 
 in one of his notes he calls "a Bill for legalizing 
 Adultery." Early in the spring of 1857 he published 
 "An Argument for not proceeding immediately tcv 
 Repeal the Laws, which treat the Nuptial Bond as 
 Indissoluble." 
 
 It was a plea for delay at all events ; and the 
 argument on the general question was professedly 
 left incomplete, because it was necessary he thought 
 to enquire how far the practice of the Church from 
 early times agreed with the construction which he 
 gave to the passages of Scripture on which he 
 grounded his opinion. Nor does he appear to have 
 objected to separation under certain circumstances, 
 as distinguished from divorce. With these qualify- 
 ing remarks the argument seems to me, if I may 
 presume to say so, sound and ingenious, and to dis- 
 play that intimate acquaintance with Scripture which 
 he certainly possessed. The Bill, however, as we 
 know, passed into a Law ; in vain stoutly resisted 
 by Mr. Gladstone clause by clause. Whether society 
 in its morality has received the benefits which it 
 promised may well be doubted ; the old practice of 
 divorce by special statutes was certainly very objec- 
 tionable ; and the new law has to the present time had 
 the advantage of being administered by two judges 
 in succession of rare excellency, men who may be 
 
The Divorce Bill. 433 
 
 equalled, but will scarcely ever be surpassed in their 
 own province; and yet when I consider the effect 
 on the purity of the public mind, of the proceedings 
 in the Court, daily circulated among all ages and 
 classes ; the collusion between parties, sometimes de- 
 feated, but too often no doubt successfully practised ; 
 and above all, the fatally strong temptation which 
 its open doors must offer to conjugal infidelity; 
 I cannot think that Keble had cause to regret 
 anything but the ill-success of his very moderate 
 argument. I do not believe that the eminent judges 
 to whom I have referred, could we have the bene- 
 fit now of their advice, would be disposed to com- 
 mend the law which they have been called on to 
 administer. But it is one of the instances of legis- 
 lation in which 
 
 " Vestigia nulla retrorsum." 
 
 The ill-success of my interference in respect of 
 Mr. Young, and a just consideration for him, could 
 lead only to his giving up the Hursley curacy. How 
 best to arrange this for him had been for some time 
 a subject of sad consideration for Keble ; it was of 
 course no easy matter ; but on the 30th of March, 
 1857, he wrote to me from Hursley as follows : — 
 
 " We are here just now in the agonies of parting with 
 dear Peter Young, and Caroline, and the 8 minor dears. 
 It is a great deal of sunshine to be shut out from us, from 
 my poor wife especially. But if they were to go, and to 
 a place as poor as they leave, they could not well have 
 
 Ff 
 
434 Memoir of the Rev. John Keblc. 
 
 more comfort in going. What do you think of our farmers 
 here, quite and clean of their own accord, getting up a sub- 
 scription, which by liberal addition from the Park, amounted 
 to ;^i42, collected entirely in the Parish, and with such, 
 love and good-will from all sorts. It took my breath away 
 when I heard of it ; and it was done in such a delicate and 
 feeling manner too ; ^£^16 applied to find him a set of ves- 
 -sels for Private Communion, the rest for expenses of migra- 
 tion. Also 3 voluntary and unpaid teams start to-night at 
 1 2 o'clock to carry his goods as far as the Fisherton Station 
 -at Salisbury. It makes me love the place better than ever. 
 You should have heard the little speech which Heathcote 
 made to him this morning before a select audience, con- 
 sisting of the Collectors, i.e. tlie principal tenants, and a 
 ■very few wives and daughters. We are going to irpoTrefor 
 ^escort) them as far as Salisbury. Two of the children are 
 left with us at present." 
 
 It was no doubt a cause of great present distress 
 "to Keble, and of lasting sorrow, the departure of the 
 Youngs ; it was more than the mere loss of an affec- 
 tionate and diligent Curate on whom he could en- 
 tirely depend ; he felt the loss of his companion, of 
 Ihe whole family, not least, perhaps, of the little 
 •children ; and he felt also for the great privation 
 which he knew it brought with it to Mrs. Keble. 
 However it was inevitable. He had the great con- 
 •solation after a while of seeing Mr. Young preferred 
 to the living which he now holds. I need not say that 
 I am speaking of the author of the " Daily Read- 
 ings," which those who know them will not thinlc I 
 
Tour on the Continent. 435 
 
 •overrate, when I say they are an invaluable addition 
 to our family hbraries, and help to our family prayers. 
 His place as curate was well supplied for a time by 
 Mr. Le Geyt, but circumstances thenceforward occa- 
 sioned many changes in Keble's curates, and as he 
 was before long compelled, sometimes by his own, 
 and sometimes Mrs. Keble's ill-health, to be absent 
 from home for long periods, he increased the number, 
 ^nd had two. 
 
 In the summer of this year, 1857, Mrs. Keble and 
 he made a tour on the Continent, of which he gave 
 me a short account in the following letter, written 
 from Hursley the 23rd of October : — 
 
 " Dearest Coleridge, 
 
 " This is, indeed, worse than ever, that I should never 
 yet have thanked you for your most kind letter received, 
 I think, at Thun, and so welcome every way. But you 
 are too much used to my idle ways, and I to your for- 
 giving ways. Somehow, when I was out, I had even less 
 inclination to write than usual. I cannot say that I had 
 not time, but I accepted all manner of excuses. Our 
 journey was very full of interest, and I hope has done my 
 wife's health good on the whole, notwithstanding one very 
 serious drawback, of which I dare say you have heard. 
 Our course was to leave the main Railway at Dijon, and 
 scramble over the Jura, chiefly for the sake of the grand 
 view, (which, however, we missed, owing to a certain M. de 
 Brouillard, who had a trick of waiting upon us just when 
 his presence was least acceptable,) and to come down upon 
 the Lake at Nyon, (for we agreed to cut Geneva,) and after 
 
43 6 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 two nights at Vevay, to go a little way up the Valley of the 
 Rhone, and turn to the left according to a route which 
 Wilson had given us, avoiding the Mont Blanc side as too 
 much for Madame. We went up the Val d'Ormont, staid 
 three nights, including a Sunday, at Sepoy, a curious speci- 
 men of a Swiss Village ; then by Chateau d'Oex to Thun, 
 Interlacken, Lauter-brunnen, and Grindelwald for our third 
 Sunday. The next week took us from Grindelwald to Mey- 
 rinzen, then up the vale of the Aar to the passes of the 
 Grimsel and Furca, and down the Reuss to Andermatt, 
 and these two days were the noblest part of our doings to 
 my mind ; then down the Lake and up the Rigi ; then to 
 Lucerne for the next Sunday, (the pleasantest town I think 
 that we made acquaintance with). We lingered a little 
 there to nurse a cold, which she had caught, and then went 
 on to Basle, intending to make our way home down the 
 Rhine ; but at Basle she was suddenly seized with a vio- 
 lent attack of pleurisy, with some inflammation of the lungs. 
 It was in the middle of the night, but by God's good Pro- 
 vidence a friend, (Laura Richards,) was with us, who proved 
 a most admirable nurse; and we got some leeches then, 
 and some good advice the next day ; so that we were able 
 , to get to Strasburgh by the end of that week, and came 
 home by Paris, Dover, and London, giving up the Rhine 
 of course, and also giving up, -pfhich I more regret, our 
 Devonshire visits, amongst which we had quite reckoned 
 on one to you. Since then she has been rather mending, 
 and could do in the way of moving about rather more than 
 before we went abroad. Just now she is suffering from 
 a cold, but I trust it will not come to much. 
 
 ." I have been too much taken up since we came home 
 with a little book I have been trying to write on Eucha- 
 ristical Adoration. I hope it will be out next week. The 
 
Kehle's " Euckaristical Adoration." 437 
 
 ■subject I fear will be very disturbing to us again; and I 
 want, if I could, to quiet people, or, at least, shew those 
 who wish to be quiet, that they are not wrong in .being so. 
 Alas, that dear Pusey should still be unable to write for us ; 
 I fear for a long time yet." 
 
 The book of which Keble speaks in this letter 
 appeared soon after its date, a second edition in 
 1859, and a third has been published since his death. 
 Its fuller title is, "The Worship of our Lord and 
 Saviour in the Sacrament of Holy Communion." 
 Its object and its plan are so shortly and so fully 
 stated in the opening paragraph, that it may be 
 "well to transcribe it; as I could not pass over in 
 entire silence a work by Keble on a subject on 
 which he felt so deeply, and had thought so in- 
 tently and laboriously for so many years of his life. 
 The subject, indeed, is so important, and the trea- 
 tise so able, that I regret it has not obtained a wider 
 circulation, and I should be glad to draw to it more 
 attention from serious people, whether for praise or 
 condemnation : — 
 
 " The object of this Essay is to allay, and, if possible, to 
 quiet the troublesome thoughts which may at times, and 
 now especially, occur to men's minds on this awful subject, 
 so as even to disturb thenf in the highest act of devotion. 
 For this purpose it may be well to consider calmly, no; 
 without deep reverence of heart, First, what Natural Piety 
 would suggest; Secondly, what Holy Scripture may ap- 
 pear to sanction; Thirdly, what the Fathers and Litur- 
 
438 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 gies indicate to have been the practice of the Primitive 
 Church ; Fourthly, what the Church of England enjoins or 
 recommends." 
 
 The words, " now especially," refer to the decision 
 of Archbishop Sumner in the Denison Case, which 
 was the cause for writing the book ; and after an 
 orderly and careful discussion of the four points 
 above stated, a fifth and concluding chapter is added 
 on the duties of Churchmen in respect of that de- 
 cision. This is a very interesting chapter, and has 
 an importance as applicable to other possible cases. 
 It is of course addressed to those who might- think 
 the decision erroneous ; and it first establishes, that 
 however gravely erroneous it might seem to a man,. 
 even if he conscientiously believed it to be heretical, 
 it would have been, even if final, no cause for leaving 
 the Chiirch, or declining communion with its author ; 
 because it would not bind the conscience ; the refusal 
 to act in obedience to it might expose one to tem- 
 poral penalty, but it could do no more ; the penalty 
 must be submitted to meekly, and if it fall not on 
 an individual personally, he must help with his- 
 prayers and out of his means those on whom it 
 should. Further, there might remain protest and 
 appeal, the former is " the course of those who feel 
 themselves aggrieved, but know of no legal remedy," 
 it supposes " the final authority to have spoken ;" the 
 latter supposes some higher authority, which may be 
 applied to and has power to reverse the decision^ 
 
Keble's "Euckarisiical Adoration." 4391 
 
 For the satisfaction of conscience Keble would, and, 
 indeed, I believe, did protest, but he relied on ap- 
 peal ; not to any other English tribunal, but to an,' 
 CEcumenical Council when it should be assembled.. 
 Here it was that many have considered his course- 
 an unreal and chimerical one. He was aware oZ 
 this, but his opinion was not hastily taken up, nor,, 
 as he thought, without the sanction of great autho- 
 rities. He had had occasion more than once ia 
 his life to consider the matter deeply, and it had 
 quieted his conscience, and made him easy in a loyal 
 adherence to his Church. Those who deride or 
 condemn his view, should in justice read, at least, 
 this part of his work, for it is not easy to give the 
 full force of his argument in a short analysis. He- 
 considered it — 
 
 " Of the very last importance that we should keep in our- 
 own minds, and before all Christendom, the fact that we 
 stand as Orthodox Catholics upon a constant virtual appeal 
 to the oecumenical voice of the Church, expressed by the 
 Tour Great Councils, and by. general consent in all the 
 ages during which she continued undivided." 
 
 And he asked, — 
 
 "If that voice be disputed, is there any conceivable way 
 of bringing the dispute to an issue, except only by another 
 true CEcumenical Council when such by God's grace may- 
 be had." 
 
 Further on he says : — 
 
 *'The question may well be asked, — much more easily 
 
440 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 asked than answered, — whether in the present divided state 
 of Christendom, all who believe in the Holy Catholic 
 Church must not in reality, however unconsciously, be 
 going on under this very appeal, at least, as against other 
 claimants. The Greek will say, 'I go by the voice of the 
 present Church diffusive ;' the Latin, 'I go by the infal- 
 lible voice of the See of St. Peter ;' the English, ' I go by 
 what has been held fundamental everywhere, always, and 
 by all ;' but who is to decide between them, which of these 
 measures is right. Yet all, one may hope, would agree to 
 defer to the decision of such a Council as has been specified, 
 were it attainable. It is our common position ; and we in 
 England have so much the more reason to acquiesce in it, 
 as it does not force us to "unchurch," (as it is termed,) 
 either of the other great sections of Christendom ; as they do 
 mutually one another and us.'' 
 
 It may be said there is no true analogy between 
 the case of one branch of the Church at issue with 
 others, and that of an individual or individuals who 
 cannot in conscience accept an authoritative decision 
 in their own branch, as for example, that of the Ju- 
 dicial Committee of the Privy Council ; but certainly 
 there is no difference in principle between the two 
 cases in respect of that on which mainly the charge 
 of unreality must rest, namely, the present apparent 
 hopelessness of a really CEcumenical Council being 
 assembled. It will not be doubted, that if so un- 
 likely an event should occur, the Council would be 
 the proper place in which should be considered the 
 grievance of those individuals who, like Keble, had 
 
Kebles " Eticharistical Adorationl' 441 
 
 invincible objections to the Latin and Greek branches, 
 who loved and adhered to their own branch, and who 
 complained only of a judicial decision which seemed 
 to them to taint its orthodoxy. 
 
 I do not know that any allowance need be made, 
 or, indeed, ought to be made, in considering Keble's 
 reasoning, for the extreme anxiety he felt for those 
 who were troubled by the judgments to which he 
 alludes. He was familiar with all their sorrows, and 
 I think he felt it in some sort his mission, (though 
 in his modesty he would have shrunk from acknow- 
 ledging this,) to soothe them, and reconcile them to 
 follow in the path in which he himself had found 
 peace. Time has in God's good will had a healing 
 force; many have forgotten, many never knew the 
 anxieties of that day; but it is good to remember 
 them, that we may learn tenderness for others, and 
 be grateful, too, for ourselves. 
 
 I see about this very time I wrote to him express- 
 ing my anxiety about the pending judgment : — 
 
 " I have seen," I said, " how mischievously these judg- 
 ments do disturb and overthrow men's minds. We have 
 lost an excellent man here, a pious, good-hearted clergy- 
 man, a perfect blessing to his little flock, simply on the 
 Gorham proceeding : against the scruples which it inspired 
 he has been fighting for five years, and at last given in. 
 He told me with tears in his eyes, that he was worn in 
 body almost to a skeleton, and would rather die tlian go 
 through again all he had suffered." 
 
442 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 However mistaken such persons were, their agonies- 
 ■were real ; to such persons Keble in the conclusiori 
 of his treatise addressed himself affectionately, and 
 it seems to me conclusively : — 
 
 " Many a devout and loving heart, I well know, will rise- 
 up against this view of our case. To be on this conditional 
 temporary footing will strike them as something so unsatis- 
 factory, so miserably poor and meagre, so unlike the glori- 
 ous vision which they have been used to gaze on, of the- 
 one Catholic Apostolic Church. And poor, indeed, and 
 disappointing it undoubtedly is, but not otherwise than as- 
 the aspect of Christianity itself in the world is poor and 
 disappointing compared with what we read of it in the- 
 Gospel. 
 
 " Men will not escape from this state of decay by going- 
 elsewhere, though they may shut their eyes to the reality of 
 it. Rather, whatever be our position in the Church, since 
 God Almighty has assigned it to us for our trial, shall we 
 not accept it, and make the best of it, in humble con- 
 fidence that according to our faith it will be to us ? 
 
 " This, please God, is the way of truth and peace, and 
 therefore in it we may hope for a blessing, the rather if it 
 should prove to be the way of the Cross also. But to en- 
 gage oneself, by a strong act of the will, to the whole sys- 
 tem of a body new to us, not upon the proper evidence of 
 that system, but because some in temporary audiority among: 
 ourselves have denied our holy doctrine ; this has something 
 in it so ytry unreal, that it can hardly agree witii truth ; and 
 so like ill-temper, that it gives but a bad omen for peace." 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 1857, DEATH OF THE REV. J. D. COLERIDGE. — BUILD-- 
 ING OF SCHOOL CHAPEL AT PITT, 1 85 8. — DEATH 
 OF MRS. T. KEBLE, JUNIOR, 1858. — TROUBLES IN 
 THE SCOTTISH EPISCOPAL CHURCH. — STAY AT 
 OXFORD, 1859. — TOUR TO THE NORTH. — VISIT " 
 TO EDINBURGH, i860. — DEATH OF ELIZABETH 
 
 KEBLE, AUGUST, 1860. — DEATH OF C. DYSON. 
 
 VISIT TO DEVONSHIRE. — DEATH OF J. PATTE- 
 SON, 1861. 
 
 IT may seem that I take advantage of my pre- 
 sent task to obtrude impertinently my own trials 
 or sorrows on my readers. I hope, however, that 
 my motive has been seen by them, and the sort of 
 necessity that was laid on me, not to omit some of" 
 the choicest out-pourings of Keble's tender heart 
 and religious spirit. I must crave their indulgence 
 when I commence this chapter in the same way. 
 On Christmas Eve, in the year 1857, my eldest, 
 brother, with whom I had walked, for sixty years 
 and more, from the earliest childhood in love that 
 had never had one remembered breach, nor even 
 the slightest diminution, was almost suddenly taken 
 from me. I communicated this of course to Keble,. 
 
y\/\/\ Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 and on the 29th of December he wrote to me as 
 follows : — 
 
 " Dearest Coleridge, 
 
 " I am, indeed, grieved that your Christmas should have 
 been saddened by such a loss, a loss I too, deeply feel, 
 irreparable in this world ; and you have had so much to go 
 through in that way ; but ' the time is short,' and Christmas 
 is happier there than even here ; and surely his being taken 
 just at that time, and with so little comparative suffering, 
 seem special marks of favour and blessing. He will be 
 sadly missed. . . . Dear Heathcote feels as you know he 
 would ; he did not say he would write to you, but I dare 
 say he will. What a gathering, dear friend, we are per- 
 mitted to think of as time goes on, one after another taken 
 out of sight to pray for us, and wait for us in peace. The 
 last I had much to think of, was the little babe on whose 
 a.ccount this is edged with a little black ; Charlie Young, 
 the least of our little cousins, 13 months old. He came 
 with his mother to pay us a little visit in November, and 
 you would not believe, yes, you would know better than I, 
 how he wound himself round all our hearts, and how much 
 my dear wife thinks of his little grave, close to the Church 
 ■door at Brooking; which has made the place seem like 
 a home to them, more I dare say than any other kind of 
 thing could have done. To all appearance, our next part- 
 ing in the family is likely to be still more trying, very much 
 more, but who knows ? and who dare choose ? I wish in 
 one respect that your kind thought for Tom could have 
 been realized, one fancies that work would be a help and 
 relief; but I dare say it is best as it is. The rest of our 
 lot, thank God, are in tolerable Christmas order. . . . 
 
 " I thank you with all my heart for your encouraging 
 
Death of Rev. J. D. Coleridge. 445 
 
 words about my little Book. I shall be very thankful, if 
 it does some little good, and no harm. Something of the 
 kind, I am sure, was very much wanted, especially just 
 now in Scotland. Have you heard of Bp. Forbes's troubles? 
 but I have not time to write more now. 
 
 God bless you, dearest friend, and dear Mary, and your 
 wife, and all, and give you a full share in all the good 
 prayers that are offered up at this time by all His people 
 everywhere. With kindest love from me and my two bet- 
 ters, ever yours, J. K." 
 
 It may be remembered that in an early part of my 
 memoir, I stated that after all the church arrange- 
 ments made for the benefit of the two parishes vs^hich 
 formed Keble's incumbency, there was still a hamlet 
 in Hursley parish not provided for as he desired. 
 This was Pitt, which lies between Winchester and 
 Hursley, in a little green valley as you descend 
 from the upland downs which separate the one from 
 the other; it is as much as three miles from Hursley 
 Church. For a long time a service was performed 
 in it weekly in a cottage, to which Keble walked 
 often and often, as long as his strength was equal to 
 it; but in this year, 1858, a school-chapel was built 
 there, which was licensed on the 31st of March, and 
 not long after a residence was supplied for a school- 
 master. This last was due to the liberality of several 
 contributors ; for the former, Keble and this portion 
 of his flock were indebted to my dear relative. 
 
44^ Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 '■ Charlotte Yonge, the daughter of him whom I have 
 more than once before-mentioned, whose name is 
 <leservedly well-known, in the literature of England. 
 I may not particularize, indeed I cannot, and I be- 
 
 " lieve no one but herself could particularize all her mu- 
 nificent acts donte in the same spirit, which render her 
 literary works the greater blessing to herself, and yet 
 the very least of her claims to the love and respect 
 of others. She could scarcely have gratified Keble 
 more than by this offering, though he could scarcely 
 love her the more for it, than he had done before. 
 He seems, from the manner in which he always 
 -writes of her, to have regarded her almost as a 
 
 • daughter bequeathed to him by her departed father. 
 
 Pitt flourished. Writing in the following year to 
 "the Wilsons, he says : — 
 
 " The Pitt district seems at present to thrive under the 
 care of Mr. Baker, (a .nephew by marriage of Moberly,) 
 ^vho is very kindly curatizing there for me in the intervals 
 - of his work as Chaplain of the College. He brought 8 can- 
 ■didates to Confirmation at Otterbourne the other day, and 
 had 17 Communicants in the little School-Chapel on Easter 
 Day, and a congregation of 72 on Good Friday, the popula- 
 tion of Pitt being under 100. I advise you to get a Moberly- 
 bred Curate." 
 
 Keble alludes in his letter of the 29th of Decem- 
 ber, 1857, to the illness of the young lady, the 
 daughter of George Cornish, whose marriage I have 
 
Illness of Sir William Heathcote. 447 
 
 mentioned above, and he wrote no letter for some 
 time without speaking of it. She, however, lingered 
 ■until the end of the year ; meantime he had been 
 made very anxious by an alarming illness of Sir 
 William Heathcote ; and writing, as I now do, when 
 that same dear friend is recovering, as I trust, from 
 an illness at one time equally alarming, I cannot 
 help inserting a word from one of Keble's letters at 
 the time. My readers may remember my' mention 
 of the baptism and death of one of his children ; it 
 was in this year that he was taken, and the loss, 
 ^was a very trying one. 
 
 Keble, speaking of Sir William, says : — 
 
 " Indeed, I trust by God's blessing, that he is now really 
 ^getting better. I saw him on Wednesday for \ of an hour, 
 -very sweet and cheerful, but muqh pulled down. It was much 
 owing to his anguish about that dear little Godfrey." 
 
 It is for the sake of both, the living and the dead, 
 that I set down any notice of this interview ; it im- 
 pressed Keble very much. I find it mentioned in 
 three letters ; in one to Mr. Wilson he says : — 
 
 f I saw him on Tuesday for \ of an hour, and I cannot 
 tell you how it impressed me. Would that I were worthy 
 but to remember it all exactly, much more to enter into it- 
 He was so sweet, and noble, and humble, and loving." 
 
 In this year Keble and I lost our dear old Corpus 
 :friend, Noel Ellison, and at the close of it, the niece 
 
448 Memoir of the Rev. John Kehle. 
 
 of whom I have just spoken died also. He expresses 
 his feelings on this and other similar visitations in 
 the letter which I now insert : — 
 
 "H. v., Innocents Day, 1858. 
 
 " Dearest Coleridge, 
 " You will have heard, I dare say, that the long-expected 
 blow has at last fallen on us. Our dear Niece at Sidmouth 
 was on Thursday gathered to her Father, and Sisters, and 
 Brother, and her little first-born Child. She had been very 
 much worse for several days ; and a very little before had 
 given a sort of signal of what was going to happen by say- 
 ing with one of her bright looks, when she was asked to 
 take something, ' Nothing but Holy Communion will do 
 me good now.' So we were quite spared what I had much 
 dreaded, that her mind might give way before her body, as 
 I believe often happens in such extreme weakness. Poor 
 dear Tom, he will be all flie more desolate, from having 
 been able all along to deVote himself exclusively to her ; 
 but of course it is a pain, which so far he woukl not part 
 with for all the world. His Father and Mother, I trust, 
 are with him now. He and Harriet, (Kenie's Mother,) 
 were the only persons with her "at the moment, 2 p.m. At 
 7 that same morning dear Moberly saw the departure of 
 his second son Arthur, a most promising youth every way. 
 He is by this time buried in the cloisters of the College, 
 where also Kenie's brother George is laid. And a few 
 days before, a Coxwell, nephew of Caroline Young, 'the 
 only son of his father, and he a widower,' died, and was 
 buried at Hurst Pier Point. Dear Kenie is to be buried 
 at Salcombe on Thursday next. It is, indeed, a trying, 
 though a very soothing Christmas. This one day seems 
 
Death of Mrs. T. Keble, jun. 449 
 
 to diffuse itself, as it were, over all the twelve. You will 
 think of us all, though I sadly feel that I never thought 
 enough of you in your many troubles. My own dear Sister 
 alarmed us also a good deal this day week, but I thank 
 God that she is now apparently getting better and better. 
 
 "But, O my dear friend, what is it all in comparison, 
 whether we and those dear to us are here a few days longer, 
 or no. If we may but be with Him, and with one another 
 by and by ! This has been a trying year all along, — Miller, 
 Ellison, Marriott, W. Barter, — each as he went seemed to 
 say, ' Your Time must soon come.' Yet the comforts left 
 are unspeakable. 
 
 " Dec' 29. I could not manage to finish this yesterday, 
 and now, lest I should be preventjed again, I must go at 
 once to business. The sum you speak of, (which in spite 
 of your asseverations I can scarcely believe to be all mine,) 
 may be paid to my account with D. L. and Co., Winchester, 
 whenever it is convenient. Of course I am glad of it ; but 
 I wish people would consider my prose, as well as like my 
 verses. Or rather, I wish that some one of real learning 
 and ability might be raised up "to force good people to put 
 their minds to the truths which I believe they are instinctively 
 acting on, though they are afraid to enunciate them in words. 
 That is my account of this Scottish Controversy, as well as 
 of a good deal that is going on in England. And having 
 that view I cannot but hope that matters will be overruled, 
 so as to spare us a Schism, though at present matters look 
 very like it. I have not read Mr. Mansel's book, and do 
 not at all expect I should understand it if I did. I hear 
 people speaking very highly of it, and sadly of the need of 
 it. . . . 
 
 " I like to hear of your visits to John, how happy they 
 must make all parties. My love to all three generations, 
 
450 Memoir of the Rev. John KeUe. 
 
 and especially to poor Mary, when you see her. May all 
 go well, and may the New Year be every way happy to 
 you, prays your loving friend, J. K." 
 
 In more than one previous letter he had spoken 
 of the Scottish Controversy, vi^hich vi^as much on his 
 mind, both on account of the subject — the Holy Eu- 
 <:harist — and because, according to his usual mode 
 ■ol judging himself with severity, he fancied he had 
 done harm by mingling in it unnecessarily and pre- 
 sumptuously : — 
 
 " I am pa3ang," says he, in writing to me, " for my con- 
 ceited interference, (for so I fear it must have been indeed 
 before the All-Seeing,) with this Eucharistical question, by 
 being made the instrument of rending (too likely) the Scot- 
 tish Church. I know that in all your own cares you will 
 4ind room to pray that I may be spared this." 
 
 At this time among the persons prominently 
 ^"g'^ged were two men, both of whom he had 
 long known intimately, and both of whom he es- 
 teemed and loved very greatly — Bishop Words- 
 worth, and Bishop Forbes ; and he had always re- 
 garded the Scottish Episcopalian Church with deep 
 a-everence ; he had accepted with pleasure a titular 
 vcanonry in the College at Cumbrae. It so hap- 
 pened that Dr. Pusey's ill-health had prevented 
 Bishop Forbes from having free recourse to him, 
 whom he ordinarily consulted in his difficulties, and 
 -SO he had applied to Keble, who of course could not 
 
The Scottish Controversy. 45 1 
 
 shrink from answering the call made on him. He 
 had not obtruded himself in the matter, and I sup- 
 pose no one but himself could have seen any im- 
 propriety, or anything like conceit or presumptuous- 
 ness, in his giving advice or support to one whom 
 he believed to be in the right, and who seemed in 
 danger of being overpowered. 
 
 In the May of this year, 1858, six of the bishops 
 of the Scottish Church had met in a special Synod, 
 and issued a Pastoi'al Letter condemnatory of a 
 Charge which had been delivered to his own clergy, 
 and published, by the seventh of their body, Bishop 
 Forbes. And this occasioned the publication by 
 Keble of "Considerations, suggested by a late Pas- 
 toral Letter on the Doctrine of the most Holy Eu- 
 charist." " Interference" by me now in a controversy 
 on this mysterious subject would be, indeed, to use 
 Keble's word, "conceited," and I shall pass it over, 
 •except that, to prevent my leaving a wrong impres- 
 sion as to the spirit in which Keble interfered, I 
 think I ought to add an extract from one other of 
 his letters : — 
 
 " I have been harping on a string, which I fancy might 
 be pacific, if people would be so minded, between the two 
 Champions, Brechin and St. Andrews. My firm belief is 
 that they both agree in this, that there is in the Holy Eu- 
 charist a Presence Real in the utmost possible degree of 
 Reality : and that they only differ about the question, what 
 degree is possible, i.e. of course possible to God. And 
 
4S2 Memoir of the Rev. John Kehle. 
 
 about this, since no paramount Church Authority has ex- 
 pressly decided it, the right course is to allow each side to 
 hold and teach their own opinion with express toleration 
 of the other." 
 
 And this in truth was the spirit in which he was 
 a controversialist. He certainly had strong opinions 
 as to what he deemed the true faith, and they were 
 to him matters of the holiest obligation ; he had 
 been brought up in them, he had read deeply and 
 largely upon them, and he thought he saw moral 
 failures traceable to a departure from them in the 
 belief of men. But with all this he ever made the 
 largest allowances, and his most inward desire was 
 for peace. 
 
 Nevertheless, I call to mind that I was uneasy at 
 what I feared in him, the growth of a controversial 
 spirit, and we had a little correspondence about it, 
 I urged him to give the world some of his parochial 
 sermons. I said : — 
 
 " I am sure you undei-value them, and tlie good whicli 
 by God's blessing they might do. Of this I think you 
 should let others judge. But in addition to this other and 
 direct motive, I am also, I must confess, somewhat in- 
 fluenced by the effect it would have on your reputation as 
 a Divine and Parochial Clergyman. I should be sorry that 
 you should only be known by strangers as a controversialist. 
 I wish they should see that the occasional short publications, 
 which the more part never look at for fear of being ' per- 
 verted,' are as nothing to the amount of your work and 
 teaching as Vicar of Hursley." 
 
Kebles Parochial Sermons. 453 
 
 He answered, referring me to the neglected ser- 
 mons he had published, and I replied, insisting on 
 a volume of parochial sermons, with his name : — 
 
 " You have not tried this, and there are in my opinion 
 two good reasons why ybu should, one for the good I be- 
 lieve they would do, the other personal, (partly so only,) 
 that the world may be undeceived, or better informed 
 about you, and not suppose you are merely a Controversial 
 Divine, engaged in propping up unpopular opinions in the 
 Church." 
 
 I went on also to urge him on to his Life of 
 Wilson, which seemed in danger of being never 
 finished : — 
 
 " Still another last word ; & neWrjTav jueXXjjriKMraTf, where 
 is thy Wilson ? You are not so old as I am, and you have 
 learned to linger by the way as much as I do. Why is it 
 that the shorter our time, the more we loiter over our work ? 
 Procrastination should be the thief of younger days, but she 
 delights to gather up the lengthening shadows.'' 
 
 I stumbled on these letters among those returned 
 to me, and I cannot expect others to read them with 
 the feelings which they roused up in myself. Alas, 
 though younger, he was not allowed so many days 
 to loiter in and on his work, (if, indeed, I had justly 
 accused him of loitering,) as have been allowed to 
 me. But he did not loiter, he was continually, too 
 continually, at work. I failed to persuade him as 
 to the sermons, unfortunately, as I still think ; but 
 
454 Memoir of the Rev. John Kehle. 
 
 he undervalued his compositions ; it was unpleasant 
 to him to undertake a selection, and a reviewal of 
 them for publication. This would of course have 
 been necessary, but he might have bequeathed to 
 the Church something like the gift which Dr. New- 
 man has left behind him, differing indeed in cha- 
 racter in some respects, and perhaps inferior in gene- 
 ral merit, but still a great and good gift. In de- 
 livery he did not give his sermons the advantages 
 of an ordinarily eloquent preacher, but he was emi- 
 nently winning ; he let himself down, I do not mean, 
 in language or argument, but in simplicity and child- 
 like humility, to the most uneducated of his audi- 
 ence ; he seemed always to count himself one of 
 the sinners, one of the penitents, one even of the 
 impenitents and careless, whom he was address- 
 ing, and the very quietness, the almost tearful mo- 
 notony of his delivery became extremely moving,, 
 when you recollected how learned, how able, how 
 moved in his own heart, and how earnest was the 
 preacher. 
 
 His brother, I am happy to say, is now seeking to 
 repair our loss in this respect by a serial issue of his 
 sermons, and for this we shall thank him much; but 
 of course he will not venture to correct them ; and 
 it must have been desirable that Keble himself should 
 have had the opportunity of finally perfecting them 
 before publication. 
 
 I was more fortunate as to the Wilson;, at leasts 
 
Kehle's Visit to Oxford. 455 
 
 not long after I wrote, in the spring of 1859, he 
 "writes to me : — 
 
 " We go to Oxford a bit if we can after Whit Sunda)' ta 
 Idll off Bp. Wilson, if possible. It would be very pleasant 
 work if one had noticing else to do, and plenty of time to 
 do it in. As it is, I expect it will be a good deal of a 
 failure." 
 
 He made out this visit to Oxford, and I think 
 Dr. Barrow, then the Principal of St. Edmund Hall, 
 lent him his house. On his return, he wrote to me 
 from Hursley on the 1st of August :— 
 
 " You may be quite sure that it would be a great delight 
 to us both, if we could answer your most land invitation 
 in the way we desire ; as one grows older, such meetings, 
 are more precious, but somehow harder to be managed j 
 nevertheless, I live in hope of managing it before the end 
 of the available weather. We had a dear little two days- 
 of Dogmersfield lately. I had fancied falling in with you 
 at this Election, but you were gone before I emerged. 
 Somehow I am become quite a gownsman again. I like 
 my new place as Head of a Hall very much ; how it would 
 be if there were anything to do is another question ; and 
 also whether it be ' tanti' as regards Bishop Wilson ; but I 
 believe it could not be helped ; there were so many little 
 odd points to be verified and explained. About the 15"* 
 we are to join the Wilsons at Whitby, which I hope will 
 give Charlotte a little strength for the winter. I may have 
 to go to the I. of Man again ; but if I can do without that, 
 my dream is of the ' Sweet Shire ;' only I cannot engage." 
 
 He did not go to the Isle of Man, but he accom- 
 
45 6 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 plished his Scheme of a tour northward, and on the 
 4th of October he wrote again very cheerfully about 
 it, and himself : — 
 
 " One is almost ashamed to be so well and thriving one- 
 self, when one's dear friends and betters are suffering ; but 
 so it is, that we have had a most enjoyable wandering; 
 and my wife is thought to be looking much the better for 
 it. Certainly it was a very pretty Uttle programme of an 
 English Tour. A month or 6 weeks at Oxford, revelling 
 in Gardens and Libraries, which we had all to ourselves ; 
 a fortnight's sea-whiff at Whitby, 2 days at York, ^and i at 
 Rivaulx Abbey ; 4 or 5 at the Wilsons at Baldersby, near 
 Ripon ; i at old Collins's at Knaresborough ; 3 at Hubert 
 Cornish's, near Chatsworth and the Peak ; i at G. Mackar- 
 ness's, near Isaac Walton ; and a week at Bisley, including 
 the Elijah, at Gloster Music ; where the two old Codger 
 Kebles were seen sitting side by side." 
 
 I have not thought it right to go into the details 
 which Keble's letters furnish me with as to the part 
 he took in what he called the Scottish troubles ; it 
 would not have accorded with the rule which it 
 seemed proper to lay down for myself in this Me- 
 moir ; and as I trust they are now happily composed 
 on charitable principles, it would be clearly wrong 
 on all accounts to incur the least risk of reviving the 
 feelings of the past ; and this I might have done, in- 
 tending nothing less, even by the most accurate and 
 careful use of my materials ; which, however, it must 
 be remembered, are all from one side. But one of 
 
Tour in the North. 457 
 
 Keble's letters of February 21, i860, from which I 
 must make an extract, reminds me of an incident 
 which ought not to be passed over, as shewing his 
 heartiness and activity in rendering help to a dear 
 friend in distress : — . 
 
 " I was most glad of your letter, for I was longing for 
 some account of you ; but I wish you could have reported 
 more cheerily of your belongings. Why did you not say 
 a word about your own self? We are scrambling through 
 the cold as well as we can, but C. feels it a good deal, E. 
 less, I think, in proportion. I am rather frightened at the 
 returns of the C. Y., what shall I do with it all ? Of late 
 all one's spare time has been taken up with turning over 
 Indices of Anglo-Catholic Divines, Benedictine Fathers, &c., 
 on behalf of our dear Lord of Brechin ; moreover, I actually 
 ran down to Dun-Edin, and was there the week before last, 
 from Tuesday morning till Friday afternoon, i.e. during the 
 whole of the pleadings ; but I was in Court only on the 
 Thursday to hear Mr. Henderson ; for I lay perdu until I 
 had ascertained that my presence would not provoke the 
 Bishops. I fraternized with Moray, Argyll, and St. A. ; and 
 whatever they mean to do as Judges, they were personally 
 very kind." 
 
 I have been favoured with some anecdotes of his 
 visit from members of the family with which he was a 
 guest at the time, from which I will make extracts : — 
 
 " His first visit to Edinburgh was in the inclement month 
 of February, i860. It was cold snowy weather, and he 
 arrived at 8 in the morning after travelling all night. It 
 was the first day of the trial. He did not go to Court, but 
 
45 8 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 confined himself to calling upon his old friend the Bishop' 
 of St. Andrews, who returned his visit. He spent most or 
 that day with my sisters, and was much amused by being 
 told of an aged Aunt of ours, who had worn out many- 
 copies of the ' Christian Year,' and had it by heart. He- 
 talked of its success with great enjoyment and playfulness. 
 He spoke of his Life of Wilson, and when found looking 
 over the book-cases, said, ' I always look at books to see if 
 I can find anything about Bp. Wilson.' He noticed the 
 Portrait of our Uncle, Mr. Gumming Bruce, whom he had 
 not seen since he was an Undergraduate at Corpus, adding^ 
 ' I remember him quite well, a nice pleasant fellow he was.' 
 
 "Our friends crowded to see him. There was a very 
 atmosphere of peace and restfulness in which he moved- 
 He gave comfort to every one, though matters then seemed, 
 critical. That day he dined with my sisters. 
 
 " On the 8th, the second day of the trial, he was in Court,, 
 and his presence there was an object of interest to all. Alt 
 in the crowd tried to catch a glimpse of his snowy head. 
 The remembrance of those calm features, contrasting so- 
 markedly with the excited faces in the midst of all the tur- 
 moil, will never be forgotten by me. There was, however, 
 an expression of profound distress upon his countenance. 
 He dined that day with Mr. Forbes of Medwyn, where he 
 •was delighted with the children. One of these, at tliat time 
 aged sixteen, thus recorded her impressions of him. ' He 
 is old and short, with white hair, and rather plain features ;. 
 but he has such a sweet heavenly expression. His voice is- 
 rather low j we cannot hear him, unless he is close to us. 
 He is so kind, and takes such interest in the little ones. 
 Aunt A. calls him her good old angel, and really he has 
 such a sweet winning sort of manner, that it must make 
 every one like and look up to him, giving one the idea that 
 
Visit to Edinburgh. 459. 
 
 he must be one of those, who, our Saviour has said, are con-- 
 verted, and become as Uttle children.' 
 
 " One day he did not go to Court, saying that he would 
 rest, and would best do so by playing with the children, two- 
 boys of six and nine years of age respectively. He crept 
 about on the floor, shewing them how to put up a new toy 
 locomotive, which had been given them." 
 
 Keble again went to Edinburgh in March, i86o„, 
 although suffering much from rheumatism, when the - 
 Synod pronounced its judgment ; it was unfavour- 
 able to the Bishop, but very much milder in tone- 
 than had been expected, and a great relief upon the 
 whole to his friends. It had been thought worth, 
 while through the whole proceeding to consult Pat- 
 teson and myself, and we all three had considered 
 carefully, (what Keble called the Sevrepos TrXof)?,) 
 the course to be pursued by the Bishop in case a. 
 suspension should be awarded. Keble's opinion was- 
 that the Bishop should not stand out on what he 
 might consider his strict right, but act charitably 
 and submit : — 
 
 "■His course," he said, "I apprehend should be to sub- 
 mit to his suspension, and remain in Dundee, visiting and 
 school keeping, and doing works of mercy, but refraining 
 from any Episcopal Act. Then his Clergy, whom he thinks 
 very much of, might keep their places, and his witness 
 would be borne to the truth." 
 
 I need scarcely say that in advice such as this 
 Patteson and I heartily concurred, and it is cause- 
 
460 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 of much thankfulness to me that our excellent friend 
 has been for many years, and still is engaged in the 
 discharge of his duties pastoral and episcopal in 
 Dundee and Brechin, to the great comfort and profit 
 of those over whom he is set. And I can scarcely 
 doubt that even those who differed from him most 
 widely and most warmly, must be thankful now that 
 no such victory was obtained by them as might have 
 led to a schism in their small body. 
 
 For a long time the name of Elizabeth Keble had 
 appeared but little, and seldom in his letters ; her 
 life flowed on in an even course, and much as he 
 consulted her, and was probably influenced by her, 
 yet all she said or did was in so quiet a way as to 
 be little noticeable ; and her health, never strong, was 
 yet not interrupted by violent illnesses, as was the 
 case with Mrs. Keble's. 
 
 But from this time a change began ; in truth her 
 heavenly Father was preparing her and him too by 
 more direct notices for the summons, which she was 
 about to receive. I have no doubt both interpreted 
 the indications correctly. I am sure he did, though 
 he clung to every little apparent amendment with 
 natural fondness. It was not very long, however, 
 before her course was ended, and I shall extract 
 what he wrote about her during the interval. 
 
 On the 4th of April, 1 860, he says : — 
 
 " My two Companions, especially my Sister, seem to me 
 almost always this winter more or less on the edge of illness, 
 
Illness and Death of Elizabeth Kehle. 461 
 
 but have hitherto been kept from being quite ill, except 
 Elizabeth's weakness, which is sometimes extreme, may be 
 counted for an illness." 
 
 She had somewhat menjjed as the weather grew 
 more genial, but it was the flickering lighting-up of 
 a sinking patient : — 
 
 "She gets out," he says, on June 28, "in a sort of Bath 
 Chair almost every day, but is very weak, and has a regular 
 nurse, besides her servant. Tom staid, I tliink, 3 Sundays 
 here, and it was such a comfort. My wife is about as she 
 has been. I fear as things are, it will be hardly right for us 
 to go a visiting this summer ; if we do, I trust we shall get 
 to you, at least for a short time. How strangely things 
 seem to be twisting themselves both in Church and State. 
 Ever your loving and hurried, J. K." 
 
 On July 16, he begins a very short note thus, (my 
 dear sister's 70th birthday). " Dearest Coleridge .... 
 Elizabeth continues much as yesterday, not quite so 
 comfortable." 
 
 She died on the 7th of August, and on the same 
 day he wrote to me thus : — 
 
 " Dearest dear Friend, 
 " Our sweet sister left us this morning, having been ap- 
 parently on the verge of departure for ten days or more, 
 during which time, and to some extent before it, she could 
 
 be hardly said t6 have full consciousness at any time 
 
 The last 18 hours were nearly all spent in sleep, like that of 
 a little child, till at 9.20 this morning, with the very slightest 
 start, but with no expression, that I could see, of pain or 
 
462 Memoir of the Rev. jfohn Keble. 
 
 distress, she was gone. I, indeed, did not see it, though I 
 ■was very near her, reading now and then a verse from some 
 Psalm, (which had all along been what she was feeling after). 
 I fancied she still breathed, and went on for a while ; at last 
 I doubted it, and asked the Nurse, who said ' she has been 
 gone this quarter of an hour,' so you may judge how quiet 
 it was, and from the nature of the illness we had greatly 
 feared it might have been otherwise. . . . She will be buried 
 here, D. V., next Saturday, not far from dear little Godfrey 
 Heathcote, so that it will yet seem for the short time that 
 remains very like going to Church with her daily ; and one 
 ought to be very thankful that it is so, for it would be a 
 strange world to one, dear friend, to be altogether without 
 her j for 20 years of health, and 50 of sickness, always at 
 hand, or always within reach ; and never a look, nor a word, 
 that I know of, but was wise and kind, with the true kind- 
 ness and wisdom. Only it makes an old man's heart sink 
 to reflect what one might have been, with such helps, and 
 many many more, and what one really is. One comfort is, 
 that those helps, and you among the rest, ^vill remember 
 one all the more earnestly. I have never thanked you for 
 jour last loving letter, which will now be worth two to me, 
 so entirely had you realized what has happened. Mrs. 
 Bliss, as you know, has been most kind and helpful ; I wish 
 she were not going. The Heathcotes come here the iS""; 
 -with all's love to all, ever yours, J. K." 
 
 There is surely something very solemn and affect- 
 ing in the picture which Keble has here drawn of 
 himself kneeling by the side of this dear and saintly 
 -sister's deathbed, from time to time slowly reading 
 a verse of a psalm, which her parting spirit was, as 
 3ie expresses it, " feeling after." And if she ceased 
 
Illness of Mrs. Keble. 463 
 
 "to breathe while he continued to read, is it pre- 
 sumptuous, or irreverent, ot unreasonable, to believe 
 that she might still hear the familiar words, it may 
 be with a new and enlarged apprehension, and more 
 unmixed delight ; and, it may be, still see the loved 
 brother ; not hearing, nor seeing, as we hear and 
 see, but perceiving by a clearer and purer intuition 
 all the meaning of the words of inspiration which 
 lie uttered. 
 
 The nursing, and the parting with Elizabeth, had 
 pressed heavily on Mrs. Keble's feeble frame, and 
 very soon after the funeral Keble was constrained 
 to take her to Dawlish, and there they remained for 
 some weeks, close to the sea ; but she was more help- 
 less than usual in her illnesses, both as to breathing- 
 ^nd walking, and recovered but very slowly. He 
 was himself a good deal depressed when he wrote 
 to me on the 29th of August, from No. 12, Marine 
 Parade, there : — 
 
 " I have," says he, " a sort of awful, yet soothing impres- 
 sion of it all ; will you pray that it may never leave me ; 
 but you cannot imagine how quickly I forget. We think of 
 staying here a week longer, in hope that by that time C, 
 will be a little recruited; and then going on to Vineyard 
 ^nd Brooking." 
 
 The proposed stay at Dawlish was prolonged, 
 owing to renewed illnesses of Mrs. Keble, nearly all 
 through September, and it was not until early in 
 'October that he dated his letters from Brooking. 
 
464 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 The loss of his sister was a heavy blow to him, 
 but I need not enlarge on it ; he has himself in his 
 letter stated in few words all the circumstances that 
 made it so great a tHal. Nor was it the only be- 
 reavement which he had within a short time sus- 
 tained. Just when his sister's illness was becoming 
 a source of anxiety, Charles Dyson's declining state 
 of health had terminated in his death ; and this was 
 in many ways a great affliction to Keble. Nothing 
 could be heartier than the love he had for this friend 
 of his youth, or more entire than the confidence he 
 reposed in this counsellor of his maturer years. He 
 could ill afford to lose such an elder brother now, 
 when he had been bereaved in succession of so many 
 whom he loved and leaned on ; it seemed to leave 
 him so nearly alone. In an early part of my memoir 
 I have spoken of Dyson, his death, and funeral. At 
 the gathering which then took place, the setting up 
 a memorial had been agreed on, and Keble be- 
 stirred himself with pious assiduity in collecting the 
 necessary contributions, and helping to determine 
 on the manner in which it should be carried out. 
 Finally this was effected by placing two stained-glass 
 windows in the parish church of Dogmersfield, and 
 in settling the designs for these he took a principal 
 part. I may add before I leave this mention of 
 Dyson, that it was a concurrent thought of Mrs. 
 Keble and Mrs. Dyson, joyfully accepted by Keble 
 that Mrs. and Miss Dyson should take shelter 
 
Death of Dyson. 465 
 
 under his wing in the old parsonage at Hursley for 
 the winter, while the arrangements for a new habi- 
 tation for them at Church Crookham in the neigh- 
 bourhood of Dogmersfield should be completed. This 
 plan was carried into effect, to the great delight of 
 the Kebles, and the comfort of the bereaved widow 
 and sister. 
 
 In their way from Brooking to Bisley and their 
 home, the Kebles came to us on the 5 th of Octo- 
 ber, which was on a Friday, and left us on the fol- 
 lowing Monday. These short visits it is now very 
 pleasant and touching to remember; and I refresh 
 my recollection of the particulars by my memoranda 
 made at the time. I see I noticed his peculiarly 
 kind and loving manner ; as we parted on the Mon- 
 day, he turned his cheek to me to kiss it. My 
 entry concludes with a hope " that I might be spared 
 for another such meeting, and that I might have 
 wisdom to seek the opportunity more frequently 
 than I had done." Wisdom alas, which indolence 
 and procrastination, and engagements more fancied 
 than real, prevented me from acting upon as I might 
 have done. He preached in our church on the 7th 
 of October ; my comment at the time was this : — 
 
 " One of those truly Christian sermons, opening out the 
 Scripture, full of citations from it, going directly to the 
 heart that would open to receive it; affectionate, earnest, 
 true, and high ; but very simple, very unadorned, just as 
 I suppose St. John might have preached when an old 
 
 Hh 
 
466 Memoir of the Rev. John Kehle. 
 
 man, and one which perhaps tlie mere itching ear would 
 receive with indifference, and the mere literary intellectu- 
 alist despise." 
 
 I have ventured to transcribe this, because I realljr 
 think now that it is not an inaccurate account of his 
 parochial sermons generally. 
 
 Thus characteristically he wrote of his little stay 
 with us on his arrival at Bisley : — 
 
 " It is no use for me to pretend to thank you properly for 
 ^11 your love and kindness to my dear vidfe and myself, so I 
 must be content with loving you more and more, and yoit 
 in this passage means, ' te cum tuis.' It was quite spoiling, 
 and high time to come away." 
 
 This has been a melancholy chapter in respect of 
 the bereavements and trials with which it pleased 
 God to visit Keble at this time, and it must end in 
 the same strain. The winter of 1 860-1, was passed 
 at Hursley; in the early part of the summer Mrs. 
 Keble's cough drove them to Sea View in the Isle of 
 Wight. He knew that I was anxiously watching the 
 K:lose of my dear brother Patteson's long and hope- 
 Jess illness ; and he entirely sympatlaized with me. 
 Comparatively speaking, there had been personal in- 
 tercourse between the two only at long intervals, 
 and then only for short periods ; nor did they cor- 
 jrespond ; but Keble had a very great regard for him, 
 .and the very highest opinion of him. 
 
 On the 2nd of June he wrote to me from Hursley : — 
 
 •" Being here for a Sunday while my wife and nephew, 
 
Death of Patteson. 467 
 
 and three children, are at Sea View, I am going to try and 
 write you a regular letter, for indeed I long to talk with 
 you, and wish I could see you. Yet it seems almost pro- 
 fane to interrupt you with any kind of talk in your present 
 employment, which must keep you so consciously on that 
 ■edge where we all are. It does seem most soothing to 
 think of dear Patteson from time to time, and of his child- 
 like unconsciousness that he was anything out of the com- 
 mon, which must now seem more than ever like a gift 
 from above." 
 
 On the 28th of June this great lawyer and judge, 
 and good man, was summoned to his rest. Keble, 
 to whom I communicated the intelligence, wrote to 
 me thus on the 3rd of July : — 
 
 " I am shocked to think that so many posts have gone, 
 and I have not told you any part of my thoughts about you 
 and dear Patteson ; about yourself I think most, for it will 
 be such a sad gap to you; one feels that nothing in this 
 v/orld can make it up. As for him, he seems too high and 
 noble for one even to try and follow in imagination. I 
 ■should like always to connect him in memory with ' the 
 righteous hath hope in his death,' hope in this world as 
 •well as there. Does it not seem like a sign from Heaven, 
 that just before his going he did, as it were, receive tlie 
 message that God had accepted his son, whom he 'had 
 lent unto the Lord' for as long as he should live ? One 
 comfort in thinking of him, at least to a man with a bad 
 memory like mine, is that there was something so very dis- 
 .tinctive in him, traits and tones to make an impression to 
 be remembered all one's life even by one who now regrets 
 more than ever that he had nof seen more of him." 
 
468 Memoir of the Rev. John Kehle. 
 
 Keble here alludes to the manner in which Pat- 
 teson had devoted his eldest son to God's service. 
 With the fullest sense of his own loss, yet with the 
 most unhesitating heartiness he had given up one 
 who was dearer to him than life. He gave him up 
 at a time when his presence was most cheering, and 
 his help much needed and readily afforded, he being 
 in charge of a small Chapelry within short walking 
 distance from Feniton Court. No father and son 
 could be more tenderly united, none could feel sepa- 
 ration more sensibly, but neither wavered for an in- 
 stant in their resolution. The son parted from his 
 aged father in 1855, never to see him again on this 
 side the grave ; and he has never re-visited England 
 since. It was a great pleasure and gratification to 
 his father very shortly before his own death to hear 
 of his son's consecration as Missionary Bishop to the 
 South Sea Islands ; in which office he has ever since 
 laboured unceasingly, under what trials, and through 
 what dangers, and with what success, I must not in 
 this place attempt to describe. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 keble's self-dissatisfaction, and thoughts of 
 resignation. — oxford local examinations. 
 
 — MRS. keble's alarming ILLNESS. — MOVE TO 
 SEA VIEW. — FIRST VISIT TO PENZANCE. — BISHOP 
 WILSON'S LIFE COMPLETED. — CHURCH DISCIPLINE. 
 — COURT OF FINAL APPEAL IN CASES OF DOC- 
 TRINE. — eiSHOP OF WINCHESTER'S CHARGE. — 
 COMMENTARY ON THE BIBLE. — FIRST STAY AT 
 PENZANCE. — RETURN TO HURSLEY. — JUDGMENT 
 IN LONG V. BISHOP OF CAPETOWN. — FIRST VISIT 
 TO TORQUAY IN JANUARY, 1 864. — SECOND STAY 
 AT PENZANCE, APRIL, 1 864. 
 
 KEBLE began the year 1862 in good health, and 
 qtiiet spirits, yet somewhat anxious on one or 
 two subjects, and a little dispirited at heart. There 
 seems to have been a visible change for the worse 
 in Mrs. Keble's health ; the state of his parish did 
 not satisfy him ; and the accounts he received from 
 Oxford, especially in regard to the " Essays and 
 Reviews," at one time so much talked of, troubled 
 him. Mrs. Keble's decline, indeed, was not so marked 
 at the very beginning of the year, though even then 
 he notices that she was " a poor hand at locomotion 
 
470 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 of any kind," and was indebted for what she had " to 
 Jack the Donkey," whom she drove. But I will ex- 
 tract parts of his first letter for the year, dated on. 
 the First Sunday after the Epiphany : — 
 
 " I had rather," says he, " wish you joy of the Peace, and 
 of the good feeling towards the Queen, and ask you when 
 you are going to take us and Heathcote, as your duty is, in 
 the way to or from London. Time steals on, and I am 
 now ' in the seventy of mine age,' and I suppose it would 
 be a wholesome thing, if one could always feel as if every 
 visit, and every letter might be the last. But really my 
 health is wonderful, as it has been all my life. What a- 
 talent to account for, alas ! . . . 
 
 " I cannot give a good account of my parish, people are 
 sadly disappointing, and neither 'trae religion, nor useful 
 learning,' appear to me to flourish and abound. I often 
 think that ' tempus abire tibi est,' — do think of it for me 
 a little calmly, — and yet I creep on from day to day, fancy- 
 ing that perhaps I may do better, and quite ashamed tO' 
 think of the condition in which my successor would find 
 things, if I were to make a vacancy at present. ' Too late, 
 too late,' are the words that haunt me from morning to 
 night ; and sometimes I wish I had been at a public school, 
 that I might be a man of business, and get on with things 
 as I ought. You must not imagine though that I am low- 
 spirited, I am only too jolly ; but this is tlie point of view 
 in which I see tilings when I consider them calmly. O 
 wretched Self, how durst thou take up all this paper. Well, 
 God bless you and yours in both hemispheres, dearest 
 friend, prays J. K." 
 
 These despondent remarks about himself, partly 
 
Self -dissatisfaction. 47s 
 
 perhaps attributable to transient depression of spirits, 
 were however characteristic of him, and his abiding- 
 humility ; but I reminded him in answer, of what he 
 had said on other occasions, that it was not for us to- 
 measure ourselves by what we seem to effect in the- 
 path before us ; that results are not in our hands, 
 and that in his line this is especially true ; we- 
 do not always know for certain what they are, we- 
 can neither measure the failures nor the successes ; 
 that much good may have been effected which no' 
 human eye will ever see, much which will appear- 
 only after a long interval. I wrote very strongly- 
 against his notion of retirement, and I heard no 
 more of it ; until some time after, when the necessity- 
 for long absences from Hursley was more pressing,, 
 and threatening to recur more often, and when there- 
 fore there was more ground for consideration of the: 
 question. 
 
 His letter had touched on some other points, one- 
 in particular, the Oxford Local Examinations, the. 
 results of which he appeared to contemplate un- 
 easily. Not that he was unfavourable to advance- 
 ment in the education of the middle classes, bufc 
 that he tltought the religious element was either, 
 neglected in this scheme, or even excliaded. He did; 
 not speak from personal knowledge, and I thought. 
 his information not correct. I went, therefore, .full3r 
 into the subject with him according to the know- 
 ledge which I then had- In the years that have 
 
4/2 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 since passed my interest in the movement has never 
 flagged ; it has seemed to me that the original prin- 
 ciple was both wise and benevolent, and that in some 
 particulars, which were perhaps objectionable, and 
 which have been now much modified, the motives of 
 the originators, and the University, were misunder- 
 stood by their opponents. The fears which these last 
 entertained have, so far as I know, turned out to have 
 been groundless, or exaggerated, and the general re- 
 sults have been good. I can hardly doubt that in 
 one respect they have been so ; the improvement 
 namely of schools and schoolmasters in the class 
 which certainly needed it. Still I think the time 
 has come for an enquiry as to the moral and intel- 
 lectual effects of the experiment on young persons 
 of the middle class ; are they really more or less 
 informed, more or less advanced in morals and reli- 
 gious habits .' The enquiry might be difficult, but 
 there are materials now for conducting it effectually ; 
 and it is surely very desirable to ascertain whether or 
 no this part of society has or has not been leavened 
 as one could wish by the system ; for it cannot be 
 but that some considerable results for good or evil 
 have flowed from it. The whole matter is so im- 
 portant that I shall be excused, I trust, for these 
 observations. 
 
 My answer to Keble's letter, (to return,) was long, 
 and he knew I was unwell, and forbidden to write 
 much. I mention this only to account in some mea- 
 
Illness of Mrs. Keble. 473 
 
 sure for the more than usual affectionateness of his 
 reply, which I do not like to suppress, and cannot 
 of course alter : — 
 
 " Dearest dear Coleridge, 
 
 " I am full of thoughts about you, very sorry to hear of 
 your trial, (only that by His blessing one feels sure how all 
 trials will turn out for you,) and very much wishing that I 
 could see you for at least an hour every day. But you 
 must not write me long letters. It will spoil the pleasure 
 of them to think of the result to yourself I thank you for 
 this one all the same, it will do me I hope much good. 
 
 " C. was, indeed, very ill for a while last Monday Night. 
 The spasms on her chest so violent that I was quite fright- 
 ened. Ether and hot steam in the room relieved her, and 
 she is now well enough to be downstairs great part of the 
 day, but very weak, and never sure but the gasping may 
 return. D. G. we have I think a very nice doctor in the 
 village, else I hardly know how we should have fared." 
 
 It seems to have been, indeed, a frightful attack. 
 From a later letter it appears it had been described 
 to him by his medical attendant as "spasmodic 
 asthma literally stopping the action of the arteries ;" 
 and well might he say that it was a providential 
 mercy that skilful relief was at hand in the village. 
 If he had been obliged to send to Romsey, and 
 wait for a medical man coming thence, the attack 
 must have ended fatally, as life could not have been 
 sustained for half an hour in the state in which at 
 one period she appears to have been. 
 
 The attack left her in great weakness, from which 
 
474 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 she recovered slowly, and it was not until May thatr 
 she was strong enough to move for change of air, 
 even so far as the Isle of Wight. He wrote to me 
 on the 7th of that month from Sea View ; he was 
 then still in continual apprehension of a return oF 
 "those dreadful spasms," and he was perhaps the 
 more sensitive in his feelings from having just met 
 Mrs. Cornish, and seeing her greatly shaken and 
 altered : — 
 
 " It really," says he, " makes one afraid and asliamed to 
 think of one's ov/n (now 70) years of uninterrupted health,. ■ 
 along with the sufferings of so many persons so unlike one- 
 self. It would be a charity if people would sometimes in 
 their Litanies pray for the very healthy, very prosperous^ 
 very lighthearted, very much bepraised, &c 
 
 " Now give our love to your wife and daughter, and such 
 other belongings as are near you, and to dear Devonshire 
 ■with its primroses, which it must be hard work for the 
 Pixies to count this year; and believe me ever (I hope)' 
 yours, J. K." 
 
 They returned to Hursley in June, Mrs. Keble iit. 
 a very precai'ious and uncertain state : — 
 
 " She came home," he says, writing on tlie 13th of June, 
 " on Wednesday week, certainly the better for the sea, &c.^ 
 but far from well ; that, indeed, we dare not look for in this 
 world. Since then she has not fallen oflf, except for the last 
 few days j her breath was the worse for something in the 
 weather on Tuesday, and she has hardly got back to the- 
 same point again. But she coughs very little, and writes,, 
 and reads, and plays, and keeps accounts; she cannot 
 
Visit to Penzance. 475'' 
 
 teach, or visit cottages, but drives out, wind and weather 
 permitting ; her going to Church is exceptional." 
 
 In this state of her health he was wisely advised 
 to consult high medical authority in London, and he- 
 did so, Dr. Williams. The result he communicated 
 to Mr. Wilson, and to me, which it is unnecessary to ■ 
 state in detail. But one particular was the posi- 
 tive forbiddance to remain at Hursley during the^ 
 winter,; it was recommended to winter abroad, but 
 Devon and Cornwall were acquiesced in ; and after 
 some hesitation Keble determined in the first in- 
 stance to try Penzance. 
 
 He wrote to me on the 8th of October from that" 
 place. They had rested in their way at Plymouth^ 
 refusing all solicitations to stop anywhere else; and 
 the first effects of the change to Penzance were so - 
 promising, that he sent home for his heavy luggage, 
 and resolved to pass the winter there. He announces . 
 his resolution to me characteristically enough : — 
 
 " Her breath is relieved, and her walking powers im- ■ 
 proved ; she walked along this Esplanade, and looked over 
 the lodgings upstairs and down without being fatigued, and 
 then enjoyed a three hours' drive, and it was altogether 
 summerish and delightful. On Sunday she went to the 
 full morning Service; and it was what my Sister would 
 have called ' a very pleasant Church.' For these and other 
 reasons, including the goodness of certain mackerel and 
 apples, &c., that we have made acquaintance with, we 
 have made up our minds to try a winter here, and have 
 
47^ Memoir of the Rev. John Keile. 
 
 sent for our heavy luggage, which we had left on the 
 road. . . . 
 
 " What a beautiful and comfortable circumstance it is of 
 this great development of our Missions, that quiet people 
 are come naturally without thinking of it, or writing in 
 a tone, to pour out their hearts mutually to those whom 
 they suppose to be like-minded, from the other side of the 
 world ; just as the old folks did in the very old centuries. 
 S. Cyprian, (e.g.) not to mention S. Paul. I say this apropos 
 to the South Pacific, and South African Letters, which have 
 Taeen so much of our reading of late. It really does seem 
 to help one in a very special way to realize the Communion 
 of Saints, and to feel (D.V.) one not only with the distant 
 living, but with the holy dead. What a comforting thought 
 (among many more) for those who were mainly instrumental 
 in the Colonial Episcopate at first 
 
 " Your calling a ' middle rate' biographer, makes 
 
 a certain friend of yours wince ; you can easily guess why. 
 I do hope at any rate that will be soon ofi' my hands 
 
 " I wish you could see the Mount as I do now every time 
 I look up from my writing, with the tenderest of hazy light 
 and shade upon it. We have got a kind cousin, Fanny 
 Coxwell, to help take care of C, and a very great little 
 comfort she is. And so witli dear love to you all, I am as 
 ever your lazy and affectionate, J. K." 
 
 Their first house vsras chosen with special reference 
 to Mrs. Keble, "in the very best position," says he, 
 "for seeing the whole of Mount's Bay, and feeling 
 and hearing all that the wild waves had to tell us." 
 Indeed, they soon found that the wild waves had 
 somewhat too much to tell them, and they were 
 
Visit to Penzance. 477 
 
 obliged to move to a house higher up, and more 
 distant from them. But he took intense and never- 
 failing delight in that most beautiful Bay, sweeping 
 round on his right, with a shore gently rising from 
 the sea ; and guarded as it were by St. Michael's 
 Mount nearly in his front, crowned with the stately 
 and picturesque castle and church on its summit. 
 I have no doubt that the view was a never-failing 
 delight to him ; and to him, a mere Saxon, there 
 was interest in the novelty, almost the strangeness, 
 of the Cornish race, their language, and customs. 
 But more than this ; as they prolonged their stay, 
 they were touched with the hearty kindness with 
 which they were received, especially by the clergy ; 
 the impression which his first Sunday had made on 
 him was deepened by more familiar intercourse, and 
 so far as he could be, he got reconciled to the en- 
 forced absence from Hursley. 
 
 The allusion to his Wilson gave me great plea- 
 sure, much increased when, on the 22nd of Novem- 
 ber, he wrote : — 
 
 " What you will be glad to hear of, the last sheet of Bp. 
 Wilson's Life is gone to the press, and only a little correc- 
 tion and some notes, with a small part of the Preface, re- 
 main to be done. I only wish any body may have the 
 same pleasure in reading, that I have had in writing it ; but 
 that of course is a romantic idea. Suppose it, however, to 
 do some of the kind of good one would wish, what will that 
 be to having been a beginner and prime agent in the Co- 
 
■47^ Memoir of tlie Rev. John Keble. 
 
 lonial Episcopate Fund ; the fruit of which, by God's great 
 blessing, we are allowed to see more and more." 
 
 This was his too kind way of alluding to my ex- 
 ceedingly small services as one of the Treasurers of 
 the Fund he speaks of ; but I do not pass it by in 
 silence, because in the beginning he had for some 
 reason looked rather coldly on the movement ; and 
 it was and is a great pleasure to me now to recall 
 ■with what a different feeling he grev/ to regard it. 
 
 Early in 1 863 the Life of Bishop Wilson was pub- 
 lished, and it formed in two parts the first of seven 
 volumes, which contain, I believe, a complete collec- 
 tion of the Bishop's works. They, are part of the 
 series of the Anglo-Catholic Library, and certainly 
 no English Churchman's library ought to be without 
 them. It is now well known how shamefully the 
 Sacra Privata were treated by those who first pro- 
 fessed to give them to the public ; treated so, I fear, 
 for party purposes. Keble was very earnest in re- 
 storing that work to its integrity. Much had been 
 - already done in that way, and in presenting it in an 
 attractive and convenient form before his volume ap- 
 peared ; but he still looked on what he had done for 
 it with more satisfaction than was usual with him as 
 to anything on which he had been employed. He 
 was not given to praise his own performances ; but I 
 remember he said to me once that his volume might 
 be less attractive in appearance, and less portable, 
 and so less convenient for a manual, but that it 
 
Life of Bishop Wilson published. 479 
 
 -would be found, he believed, the most correct and 
 full edition which had yet seen the light. As the 
 Bishop's character was one which he most admired 
 and loved, so this work was a special delight to him, 
 and justly so. Many persons, I fear, are deterred 
 from becoming familiar with it, because at first sight 
 it seems to have so much to do with the writer 
 •exclusively in his character of Bishop, and they 
 suppose, therefore, it can have little application ta 
 themselves ; but let them persevere, and if I mis- 
 take not, they will not only be moved with the 
 xmconsciously-drawn picture of so much goodness, 
 greatness, and holiness, but find also abundance of 
 that which is practical for themselves. Indeed, there 
 is a homely affectionate simplicity in everything 
 which Wilson wiites of this sort, that makes it spe- 
 cially fitting for the purposes of a Christian Manual. 
 
 It will have been seen how Keble speaks of the 
 pleasure he had had in writing the Life ; it was with 
 liim truly a labour of love ; he wrote it carefully, 
 ^nd it is, I believe, perfectly trustworthy, telling 
 tis all that can be known of Wilson, and considerabl}'- 
 3nore than was known before. Still it is thought to 
 labour under the fault of being long-some ; its very 
 fulness may have contributed to this ; in truth, it 
 tells more than ordinary readers may care to know 
 -of its subject. 
 
 My readers will have lon^ ago seen what were 
 Keble's opinions respecting Church discipline ; it 
 
480 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 was unfortunate, I think, for the work, that Bishop 
 Wilson not only felt about this as strongly, and in 
 the same way, but laboured during nearly the whole 
 of his episcopate to enforce its practice. On these 
 sustained efforts Keble naturally dwells with in- 
 terest, and in much detail. It seems to me with 
 great deference, that the conclusion in his mind 
 might have been, (and I am not sure that it was 
 not,) that however desirable, indeed however a duty 
 of strict obligation in itself, it was hopeless to at- 
 tempt a revival of it in our days, and in our country. 
 If a bishop such as Wilson, so able, so venerated, 
 and so loved, could not succeed in a diocese so small 
 as that of Man, with a population so much more 
 simple than our own, what could be hoped for in 
 England at this time .' But beyond this, I cannot 
 say that even in the instances in which what is 
 called success is recorded, I see very satisfactory 
 evidence of real success. The power of the Church, 
 indeed, was maintained in the particular instances ; 
 she did punish the evil-doers, and they submitted ; 
 but the impression left on the reader's mind is that 
 the submission was too often made in order to es- 
 cape the continuing temporal inconvenience rather 
 than that the penance ended in real penitence. 
 
 " Non hoc tempus Censurae" was the saying of 
 Tiberius, when it was proposed to revive that office 
 in vigour ; certainly an adviser whom one would not 
 listen to without distrust ; yet to attempt the re- 
 
Life of Bishop Wilson. 481 
 
 form of manners in Imperial Rome by the Censor- 
 ship, and in the Christian Church by Ecclesiastical 
 Discipline, have this in common, that the one and 
 the other were equally but means to an end, and 
 that end in many respects the same. Now the 
 fitness of means must depend very much on the 
 circumstances under which they are to be used ; 
 what might be available and good in the early days 
 of Rome, and of the Church respectively, might be 
 far otherwise in the days of Tiberius, or those on 
 which we are fallen, I speak it with diffidence and 
 unfeigned respect for my dear friend, with whom 
 these subjects were a life-long study; but it even 
 seems to me a fallacy to rfefer everything as he did 
 to the standard of the Primitive Church ; and to be 
 unwise, because unpractical. If I am asked what 
 I would substitute for the ancient Discipline, I feel 
 how utterly unfit I am to answer -the question; and 
 with that feeling on my mind I yet venture to say 
 that the pastoral care, and the influence under God's 
 blessing on it, of a really laborious, learned, self- 
 denying, prayerful, and exemplary clergy, may be at 
 least more practical, and at all events it is that with- 
 out which all other means must fail. 
 
 I have been led astray from my proper subject, 
 Keble's Life of Bishop Wilson. I shall have done 
 it injustice, if I leave my readers with an unfavour- 
 able impression of it on the whole. He might, in- 
 deed, no one more successfully, have caught his 
 inspiration from Isaac Walton, and left us a tale to" 
 
482 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 be bound up with his immortal narratives. I wish 
 he had ; but I cannot wish he had not written this 
 Life, for it is the storehouse of facts, faithfully re- 
 corded, in which is contained all that can be knowa 
 of an Apostolic Bishop ; to which, indeed, whoever 
 desires to write something more popular must, and 
 may safely, have recourse for his materials. 
 
 Yet there was a branch of this subject on which I 
 could not and cannot but think there was much real 
 ground for Keble's uneasiness. I mean that a modem 
 Statute should have placed in the hands of the Judi- 
 cial Committee of the Privy Council, assisted by two 
 •or three of the bishops, not selected for personal fit- 
 ness as judges, but in virtue of their sees, the final 
 decision of questions touching the doctrine and disci- 
 pline of the Church. Even if the Committee were 
 necessarily composed of Churchmen, there would be 
 the question, whether such matters are properly to 
 be adjudicated on by laymen ; but it is well known, 
 that among its members may be those who are con- 
 scientiously, or otherwise, not only alien from the 
 Church, but opposed to it. And the evil has this 
 peculiarity in it, to which attention should be drawn. 
 Where any court has jurisdiction to determine the 
 'point directly in issue before it, it has necessarily 
 for tite purpose of arriving at its determijiation, juris- 
 diction to decide on any point collaterally arising, the 
 decision of which is necessary to the determination 
 of the point at issue. Thus a single judge and jury 
 -at the Assizes have jurisdiction to try an action for 
 
Judicial Committee of Privy Council. 483 
 
 libel ; suppose a beneficed clergyman should sue in 
 such an action for the publication of a writing which 
 imputed to him that he had taught something in 
 derogation of one of the Articles ; it might become 
 necessary on the trial not only to decide on the fact 
 of publication, and the meaning of the language used, 
 ^but also the meaning of the Article alleged to have 
 been derogated from. Rightly or wrongly the judge 
 would have in that case to lay down the law of the 
 Church ; and if he interpreted the Article wrongly, he 
 would for the time, and for the purpose of the cause, 
 impose a new doctrine ; but neither his ruling, nor 
 the judgment consequent on it, would bind judge or 
 court, bishop or clerk, in any other case. The Judicial 
 Committee, on the other hand, often takes cognisance 
 of the doctrine directly and as the point in issue ; 
 and it does so in the last resort ; its decision binds 
 -every court, and even itself; so that if it should hap- 
 pen to determine certain propositions not to be con- 
 trary to the Articles, or vice versa, however mani- 
 festly wrong or dangerous the decision, those pro- 
 positions might be maintained and preached by any 
 incumbent to his flock with impunity ; and to preach 
 propositions logically contradictory of them might 
 subject an incumbent to prosecution and its conse- 
 quences. It cannot be doubted that this would prac- 
 tically be very much the same thing as making a 
 new doctrine for the Church. There are some, it is 
 ■said an increasing number, to whom this gives no 
 
484 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 pain, because they hold doctrine to be of little im- 
 portance ; but even these, if candid, would admit that 
 it must be very grievous to those who hold, as Chris- 
 tians in general do, and have done from the begin- 
 ning, that definiteness and truth in doctrine are essen- 
 tial to the Church in the discharge of her function, 
 as keeper of the Faith, and teacher of the people. 
 
 Keble was one of these, and the matter touched 
 his conscience. The judgment in what is known as 
 the "Essays and Reviews" Case gave him, in all its 
 circumstances, as well as the decision itself, great 
 pain, and he wrote several letters to me ; for he 
 rightly enough had no scruples in doing so merely 
 because I was a member of the committee. He 
 was not always accurate in his knowledge, and I 
 think he did not see at first all the difficulties of 
 forming an unexceptionable tribunal ; nor did I 
 always agree with his inferences or propositions. 
 I do not think I should do any good by printing 
 the whole correspondence ; but I may perhaps re- 
 vive the attention of those who might do good, by 
 quoting some extracts from his letters to shew what 
 a real grievance to men like him still exists : — 
 
 " Penzance, 
 "/««" 7, 1863. 
 " Dearest Coleridge, 
 "Thank you for your kind letter, and patience in ex- 
 plaining to me all the difficulties of the case. I have no 
 doubt it is full of difficulty, but then I consider that Law- 
 
" Essays and Reviews" Case. 485 
 
 yers and Statesmen are the very people to whom one is to 
 complain of one's difficulties, as one tells a Doctor when one 
 is ill. I do hope that our friends in those professions will 
 believe that we are really ill, (so to speak,) and not mere 
 valetudinarians. I hope they will give themselves no rest 
 till they have -thoroughly looked into the matter, and either 
 devised something which will not positively hinder the 
 Church from executing its commission, as the present Law 
 does, or ascertained and reported that no such course can 
 be adopted consistently with the present relations of the 
 Church to the State. Until one of these two things is 
 done, there must be perpetual ' fears and jealousies,' until 
 we waked up some morning and found ourselves without 
 Creed or Discipline, — without Discipline we are indeed at 
 ' present. 
 
 " Don't suppose that I am setting up my Judgment on 
 the legal and political view ; I am really thinking, or trying 
 to think, of the souls which, I believe, are daily and hourly 
 perishing through disregard of our Lord's Ordinance. I 
 would thankfully make use of qualified Laymen to any ex- 
 tent, consistently with the ' Discipline of Christ,' to which 
 we are all sworn, and the grace for which is given us, if we 
 are worthy, at our ordination, in our several degrees. These 
 miserable Essay and Review Cases, more I think than any- 
 thing which has happened, have brought out the fact, that the 
 present Law of England absolutely quashes that Discipline, 
 and also that other fact, that acquiescence in such a state 
 of things is fast tending, as I said, to nullify our Creed. I 
 should think something might be done ; your reference to 
 the Bishops, for instance, or what was it that Bp. Blom- 
 field proposed ? But do you really think that a Clergyman 
 aware of all this should not complain of it, unless he can 
 suggest the form.s of a Parliamentary Remedy? Among 
 
486 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 other effects of things as they are, Dr. Wiseman, &c., are 
 making a good deal of gain, as you doubtless know better 
 than I." 
 
 What Keble calls my "reference to the Bishops," 
 was a suggestion I had thrown out, and of which I 
 still think something might be made, that in order to 
 separate the fact, including the mere construction of 
 the language charged to be heretical, from the doc- 
 trine itself, the Committee might ascertain the two 
 former, and then refer to a Court of bishops to state 
 the doctrine, and applying that to the finding of the 
 Committee, certify the conclusion on the issue to 
 the Committee, which should be binding on it. This' 
 seemed to me a way to give to each branch of the 
 tribunal what it was most competent to perform satis- 
 factorily, relieve the minds of Churchmen, and, as 
 far as could be, keep the doctrine of the Church from 
 change. Lawyers will know that my hint was bor- 
 rowed from the practice, now obsolete, of trial by 
 the Bishop's Certificate, of which some account will 
 be found in Blackstone's "Commentaries," vol. iii. 
 p. 335, and also from the practice of the House of 
 Lords to put questions to the Judges on a state- 
 ment of facts which the House deems to be cardines 
 causes ; and usually though not necessarily, to de- 
 cide the case according to the answers given. 
 
 But I was of opinion, (and this I ought not to 
 withhold now,) that nothing could be hopefully de- 
 vised to forward Keble's views, until the clergy were 
 
" Essays and Reviews" Case. 487- 
 
 to some extent educated in law, and accustomed by 
 some training, as hearers at least, to the practice of 
 courts ; it seemed to me that the most learned divine- 
 could not be fit to act as judge, without that training- 
 or experience which is so essential to constitute the 
 judicial habit of mind. 
 
 Keble wrote to me subsequently on this subject 
 
 thus: — 
 
 " Penzance, 
 Jan. 8, '63. 
 " My dearest Coleridge, 
 
 " Suppose I was to dream such a dream as what follows^ 
 would it have any meaning or no ? 
 
 " That six or 8 men, good and true, were sitting cosily 
 together some time before Parliament meets, and that their 
 initials were such as J. T. C, W. H., W. E. G., R. P., R. Ph.,, 
 E. B. P., S. 0., &c., &c. 
 
 " That it were represented to them somehow what an un- 
 constitutional position the Church of England is in. It is as 
 a corporation having its own bye-laws, which to it are funda- 
 mental, and which the State professes to respect. Among. 
 those laws are, — 
 
 " i". All must hold a certain presaibed Faith, or be ex- 
 cluded from the Society. 
 ■*' 2. The measure of that Faith is, ' Quod semper, qnodJ 
 
 ubique,' &c., being also scriptural. 
 "3. The Judicial Power in regard of alleged offences 
 against this Faith has been entrusted by the Founder 
 of the Society to persons nominated by Him for the 
 purpose. 
 " But our present Statute Law, — 
 *' I. Virtually annuls the penalty, viz. Excommunication. 
 
488 Memoir of the Rev, yohn Keble. 
 
 " 2. Substitutes, in the case of Clerks, (the only case in 
 which it allows the Church to take cognizance of 
 any such offence,) another rule, a certain Statute 
 of Q. Elizabeth. 
 
 " 3. Takes the judgment and decree out of the hands of 
 those ordained by the Founder, and sworn by the 
 order of the State itself, to administer in such causes. 
 
 " Then I might perhaps go on and dream that the said 
 revered and highly-valued initials were set to a sentence 
 allowin^that there is more or less of truth and reason in the 
 said complaints, and that the grievances are real grievances. 
 
 " And of course I could not then doubt that they would 
 lay their heads together to consider what should be done. 
 
 "Would it be beyond the absurdity allowable even in 
 one's sleep, if I dreamed again and fancied them consider- 
 ing about an experiment in mitigation of the mischief ? 
 
 " I. Whether it is impossible to obtain a law taking away 
 all temporal penalties, annexed to excommunication, and 
 leaving the Church really free to enforce its own rubric 
 and canons in case of notorious sin or unbelief Might not 
 something analogous to a trial by jury be invented in aid of 
 the Bishops? 
 
 " 2. Might there not be a declaratory Act to tlie effect 
 that the Formularies must always be interpreted agreeably 
 to Holy Scripture and general consent, (as in the Act of 
 the I*' of Elizabeth the decrees of CEcumenical councils 
 were made part of the measure of Henry ?) To which Act 
 the assent of Convocation should be obtained, and recited 
 as in the Act of Uniformity. 
 
 " 3. After providing in the completest way for perfect in- 
 vestigation and exact legality, still might not the Bishops in 
 Provincial Council, with full publicity to all their proceed- 
 ings, be made judges in the last resort ? 
 
" Essays and Reviews" Case. 489 
 
 " I am much mistaken if the errors of such a system 
 would not be, (as they had better be,) entirely on the side 
 of leniency; especially considering how the Bishops are 
 appointed. 
 
 " But it would save the point of principle, and take off 
 the strain on our consciences. 
 
 " My dream, if it went on, and found that nothing could 
 be done, would be a very frightful one ; for it would exhibit 
 our Church in no long time reduced to the alternative of 
 voluntaryism, or unbelief 
 
 " Luckily it is but a dream, and as such I hope harmless. 
 " Pardon it from your loving friend, J. K." 
 
 Keble agreed in w^hat I wrote respecting the pre- 
 sent insufficient training of the clergy for this pur- 
 pose, and the greater fitness at present of laymen 
 in this respect, whose interference he would by no 
 means have rejected : — 
 
 " But what," said he, " if those who appoint Bishops in- 
 sisted on this quality of a judicial mind, and an education 
 to prepare them in some tolerable way for that kind of 
 work ? Would not such a demand in no long time produce 
 a supply, as you seem to say it did in old times?" 
 
 , One point, however, it would have been out of his 
 nature to giye up : — 
 
 " I want," said he, dating from Penzance on January 15, 
 1863, "to explain one or two things in which I fear I seem 
 to you and other legal friends more absurd than I need. 
 One is, that it is not only nor chiefly for want of theological 
 learning that one objects to Laymen as final judges in ques- 
 
490 Memoir of the Rev. Jolm Keble. 
 
 tions of doctrine and spiritual discipline, but because one- 
 believes that such judgments are divinely entrusted to the 
 Apostles and their successors, even as the Powers of order ; 
 and that they are specially endowed for the work ; not so, , 
 of course, as to exclude the duty of availing themselves of 
 all providential helps, of which one of the greatest will be 
 the advice and instruction which I quite believe nothing 
 but a legal education can supply. Just as in interpreting 
 the language of Scripture, they are bound' to avail them- 
 selves of the opinions of the best Scholars ; but they can- 
 not transfer to them the right of authoritative interpreta- 
 tion, because they cannot transfer the responsibility. It is • 
 a burthen laid upon them, and they must bear it." 
 
 He closes a long reply to me in this somewhat; 
 sad way : — 
 
 "Don't trouble yourself, dear friend, to answer this long, 
 prose. I foresee that very few would interest themselves in 
 my scruples, so I shall keep them with my forebodings, as well 
 as I can, to myself. If I was 20 years younger, I might in 
 time be fit to talk and write on such things. As it is, I feel 
 I ought to be otherwise employed. Yet I hope my fear is 
 not mistrust of His goodness, but I say to myself, what if 
 we are being punished for not keeping our deposit ? 
 
 " Ever yours, with love to all, J. K." 
 
 So for the time ended our correspondence on this 
 subject, but not his thought or anxiety about it. 
 It is one of so much importance, as yet unsettled, 
 and one on which we may confidently say some set- 
 tlement must be made, that I have been the fuller on 
 it It seems important, that whenever it is seriously 
 
Commentary on the Bible. 49 r 
 
 considered, this side of it, to which mere lawyers may- 
 be disposed to attach little importance, should at all 
 events be brought into view. 
 
 I part with this subject, though it must be con- 
 sidered as one never long out of Keble's mind so- 
 long as he lived, and revived by him from time to- 
 time in his letters. 
 
 It was shortly before he wrote the last letter, that 
 I received one from him, from which I extract the 
 following passage : — ■ 
 
 " I have only just got our Bishop's Charge, and it is 
 really admirable to my mind, better even than the News- 
 papers led me to expect ; better, I think, as a composition. 
 There was often a sort of strain in what he wrote and 
 preached, which in this he seems to have quite got rid of ^ 
 and then as to the matter, it is very instructive ; and the 
 tone is so firm yet so candid. I am very thankful, and 
 hope to be the better for it, though it is rather late to- 
 mend ; but no more of that." 
 
 Almost before he was relieved from the Wilson . 
 burthen, it seems that the living Wilson had ven- 
 tured to remind him of the Commentary on the 
 Bible. I am not sure to what extent Keble had 
 engaged himself at all in this work, nor for what 
 part of the book. He shrunk from engaging at 
 once in a new labour, and wisely no'w ; though he- 
 did not disclaim the obligation, nor ever entirely re- 
 nounce all hope of fulfilHng it to some extent. At 
 an earlier period there was no task I think in which 
 
492 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 he would have worked with more pleasure to him- 
 self, none for which he was more fitted : — 
 
 " Pray don't begin," writes he to Mr. Wilson, " talking 
 and speculating about Commentary. I have not yet written 
 a word, and at my age, and according to the scale of other 
 people's work, it really seems quite idle to think of such 
 a thing. But for honour's sake, I suppose I must try, and 
 it will be too good for me if I am helped to do anything. 
 But you know I never could bear being looked at while I write. 
 I do so hate for any one to see how I hold my fen." 
 
 He begins this letter with a sentence which I can- 
 not withhold from my readers : — 
 
 " Dearest Friends, 
 " It is, indeed, high time I should ivrite to you, and yet 
 I am not at all sure that I should have been dutifiil enough 
 to do so, if she, who is my Conscience, and my memory, 
 and my common sense, had been up to the work, but I am 
 sorry to say she is not." 
 
 Care for Mrs. Keble indeed, nursing her when 
 ill, interesting her when better, taking her out for 
 a drive, or a downhill walk, when alleviation of her 
 symptoms, or abatement of the cold permitted, oc- 
 cupied much of his time, and more of his thoughts. 
 Her health fluctuated a good deal, and although 
 he still maintained that Penzance was warmer per- 
 haps than any other place in England, she suffered 
 occasionally very much from a change of wind, or 
 such like winter casualty. And with the knowledge 
 
Mmistrations at Penzance. 493 
 
 he now had of her case, his best hope was that he 
 might be allowed to take her from Penzance not 
 worse than when he brought her there. I do not 
 suppose she was a hopefial patient, in the sense of 
 expecting a recovery ; but she was more than re- 
 signed ; she was a cheerful one, bearing her part so 
 far as she could in their little circle, interested in all 
 that was done to interest her, and seeing, when she 
 could, some of the many kind people who were de- 
 lighted to visit her and him, when allowed to do so. 
 And people were very kind to them, full of neigh- 
 bourly attentions, sending such delicacies as grapes, 
 or wild fowl, or anything thought good for Mrs. Keble. 
 He found there a sister of his and my friend Mr. 
 Copeland, Mrs. Borlase, whom he specially mentions 
 for. her kindness ; one who was a prisoner to her 
 house, or able only to take carriage drives, yet 
 " making," he says, " a bright sunshine all round her." 
 But what of course charmed him most, was his cor- 
 dial and congenial reception from the Clergy ; in Mr. 
 Hedgeland and Mr. Tyacke he found two in whose 
 ministrations he could heartily join, and whose hearts 
 warmed towards him with a loving respect, and re- 
 spectful love, which could not but delight his hum- 
 ble and affectionate nature. This was a matter of 
 consequence to him, for he reluctantly bore to be 
 doing nothing in his vocation, while in forced exile 
 from his own Cure. He preached many times, as 
 often, indeed, as either of these had occasion for his 
 
494 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 lielp. Mr. Hedgeland records of him, in a letter to 
 the "Guardian," that at his first visit he asked to 
 have some pastoral visiting assigned to him, and 
 characteristically wished it to be entirely among 
 the poor, and shrank from going among any who 
 ■would see in him the author of "The Christian 
 Year." On one or two occasions of public rejoicing 
 he supplied them with lines suitable for use as a 
 Hymn ; and attending a meeting of the Society for 
 Propagating the Gospel in Foreign Parts, he spoke 
 shortly and touchingly at its close, addressing him- 
 self specially to some young children who had been 
 singing near him. 
 
 After his return home, Mr. Hedgeland had written 
 to him, sending him what Keble called "his fresh 
 icind present," and I will insert here, a little out of 
 its place in point of time, an extract from his ac- 
 knowledgment." 
 
 "Jutie 13, 1863. 
 " My dear Mr. Hedgeland, 
 
 " The sight of your handwriting, and fresh kind present, 
 was very welcome indeed, and made me feel how .wanting 
 I had been in not doing sooner what I had been all the 
 ■while intending, to write to you a word of hearty thanks 
 for your and your parishioners' very great kindness to us. 
 Such it ■was as must always make the very bends and turn- 
 ings of the streets, let alone the Mount and the Bay, and 
 the lanes and flowers, and moors, and cairns, and crosses, 
 anost pleasant to think of." 
 
 Mr. Hedgeland, in the same letter to the *' Guar- 
 
Rambles at Penzance. 495 
 
 dian," mentions an incident which I also insert here, 
 though out of its place. He visited him after his 
 return to Hursley, and in the course of a walk, 
 ■directed his attention to a broken piece of ground, 
 -a chalk-pit, as it turned out : — 
 
 "Ah," said he, "that is a sad place, that is connected 
 with the most painful event of my life. It was there that 
 I first knew for certain that J. H. N. had left us. We had 
 just made up our minds that such an event was all but in- 
 evitable, and one day I received a letter in his handwriting. 
 I felt sure of what it contained, and I carried it about with 
 me all through the day, afraid to open it. At last I got 
 away to that chalk-pit, and then forcing myself to read the 
 letter, I found that my forebodings had been too true ; it 
 "was the announcement that he was gone." 
 
 I do not know whether it was a habit of his to 
 --select retired spots like this for such purposes ; but 
 I remember well on some occasion, when he and I 
 liad to talk over some serious matter, his taking me to 
 -an abandoned chalk-pit, one, at least, in which the 
 growth of brambles and coppice wood indicated that 
 it had not been woi'ked for some time ; and there we 
 -discussed our question. Few spots, by the way, are 
 more picturtsque than these old chalk-pits some- 
 times are ; and this may have been to him, like Lad- 
 Avell Hill, with its wild flowers, a familiar spot, in 
 "vvhich he chewed the cud of sweet and bitter fancies. 
 
 Keble had hoped to return to Hursley for Easter, 
 but he was obliged to give it up, and on Palm- 
 
496 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 Sunday, March 29, he wrote to me from Penzance, 
 commemorating a visit to them from his brother and 
 sister-in-law, witli his usual sense of great enjoyment. 
 Mrs. Keble continued better, but — 
 
 " Everybody advised us to give up our dream of being at 
 home at Easter; and there has been a slight flavour of 
 March lately, even in the West Winds, which proves them 
 right ; and I am rather ashamed to own myself too lazy to 
 feel as uncomfortable as I ought about it.'' 
 
 On the 19th of May, 1863, he wrote to me from 
 Hursley, after having been at home for some little 
 time ; he was full of the kindness he had received 
 at Penzance, the beauties of the place and neigh- 
 bourhood, and perhaps, above all, " what one might 
 call three distinct immigrations from home." Among 
 these he reckoned one from Mr. James Young, the 
 son of his old Curate, whom he loved, and treated 
 as one of his own family, who looked up to and re- 
 garded him and Mrs. Keble as Uncle and Aunt, and 
 who was destined in some sort to repay their love 
 by being allowed to watch over, and attend on, and 
 nurse both to the close of their last illness. 
 
 It was evident that Mrs. Keble had returned not 
 substantially better than she went, and he intimates 
 to me the thoughts which arose in his mind, and 
 which not long after he propounded to me more dis- 
 tinctly. He writes : — 
 
 " It would be very wrong to complain, wrong also to 
 look forward, though I cannot conceal it from myself that 
 
Keble's TJwtights of Resignation. 497 
 
 in all probability it will be wrong, (supposing we have the 
 chance,) to spend another winter here, and therewith come 
 practical questions which I need not now specify, but I 
 suppose one ought to look on to them so far as to pray for 
 guidance." 
 
 In accordance with these thoughts Jie wrote to me 
 on the 3rd of July : — 
 
 " Although Charlotte has not been absolutely ill since we 
 came home, and many think her improved in looks, I can- 
 not flatter myself that she is radically reformed, and a very- 
 little makes her exceeding weak. We are rather deferring 
 to take any medical opinion about our staying here next 
 winter. I do not myself doubt what the Doctors will say ; 
 but how to manage afterwards ? (This is private). Ought 
 I not, at least, to lay the matter before the Patron and the 
 Bishop, and place the Nomination to the Cure in their 
 hands. In plain English, should I not offer to resign? 
 Do tell me your first impression, i.e. what you feel would 
 be your first impression in my case. I have not whispered 
 it to her, but it must, I should think, have come into her 
 mind. Well, now I must leave off for the present ; with 
 all love to all, ever yours more and more, J. K." 
 
 I told him that my first impression was that he 
 should do as he proposed, because I felt sure that 
 both Bishop and Patron would say, it was better for 
 the living and Church that he should retain the in- 
 cumbency now, even if he were sure to be absent 
 another long winter. But I thought the question 
 must be looked at from a different point of view; 
 that it was a question for himself, not one for the 
 
 Kk 
 
-49^ Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 Bishop and Patron to decide for him. And then with 
 the view I had of Mrs. Keble's health, as gently as I 
 could, I distinguished between the case of one who 
 had no prospect of renewing his winter residence 
 for the whole of his lifetime, and his own case. I 
 tried to induce him therefore to narrow his considera- 
 tion only to the absence for the coming winter ; and 
 in that point of view there seemed to be no doubt, 
 that he ought for the sake of his people to retain the 
 incumbency for the present. I believe he was satis- 
 fied. However, as late as the 8th of October, the 
 jiecessity for a determination had not arisen : — 
 
 " We live on," says he, at that date, " from day to day, 
 in hopes to be allowed to spend the winter here, my wife 
 •continuing on the whole, I think, nearly as well as when 
 -we left the West. But I consider myself as under orders 
 .to be ready to move at a very short warning." 
 
 It was about the time of his July letter that the 
 Judicial Committee had decided an appeal by a 
 clergyman of the name of Long against the Colo- 
 aiial decision of an action he had brought in the Su- 
 preme Court there against the Bishop of Capetown. 
 The judgment of the Committee was adverse to the 
 Bishop. The case was not one under the Church 
 Discipline Act, but simply a Common Law appeal 
 from the court in the colony. I cite the following 
 extract from Keble's letter for several reasons, which 
 it will itself suggest : — 
 
 ^'As to Cape Town, I said that about legal and theo- 
 
Visit to Torquay. 499 
 
 logical half in jest to Butterfield, but when I read the sen- 
 tence, I saw that the abstract I had Seen of it was erro- 
 neous, viz. 'that Synods were pronounced altogether ille- 
 gal ;' but its real tenor seems to me a gain to us, in dis- 
 countenancing voluntary ' synods,' framed, for the nonce, of 
 Laity as well as of Clergy, and throwing us back on the 
 ■Common Law of the Church. And a wiser pen than mine, 
 ■writing from Bisley, says unasked, ' To me it seems a wise 
 decision, and what in the end will produce good.' Indeed, 
 there seems but one opinion about it." 
 
 " The orders to move," -which he spoke of, arrived 
 in December. On the 4th Sunday in Advent he 
 wrote to me : — 
 
 "We have had too plain warning that we must move. 
 5he has not had a regular attack, only her breath is very 
 weak, and not near so fit for travelling I fear as last year. 
 I have no time to write on other things now ; so can only 
 say, our dear love, and 1,000 thanks for your kind letter. 
 I had such a kind one from our Bishop yesterday." 
 
 Mrs. Keble feared the long journey to Penzance, 
 and the substance of the letter was to ask me help 
 in finding good lodgings for them at Torquay. I 
 had advised him to try that place. His letter found 
 me just breaking up from some weeks' stay there ; 
 but his god-daughter, with a niece of mine resident 
 there, soon found him a comfortable abode in a house 
 called Enderlie, in Croft-road, and on the 3rd of 
 January, 1864, I had the pleasure of receiving from 
 him a cheerful account of his patient, and an as- 
 surance that they were comfortable. 
 
500 Memoir of the Rev. John Kehle. 
 
 They remained at Torquay for about three months, 
 and I need scarcely say that Keble was received by 
 the clergy generally with kindness and respect, and 
 by some of them with more than even those words 
 import. Enderlie is in the Tor district of that 
 large parish, and in close neighbourhood to St. 
 Luke's Church ; he delighted in attending the ser- 
 vices there, and was very much drawn to the in- 
 cumbent, Mr. Harris, and his father, the Incumbent 
 of the Mother church at Tor, which is at no great 
 distance. He was not slow to render help where it 
 was needed, and, as at Penzance, he always pre- 
 ferred the smallest churches, and the simplest con- - 
 gregations for his own ministrations. It was not, 
 however, from the clergy only, that he and Mrs. 
 Keble received the kindest attentions ; people were 
 not merely delighted to do him honour, their hearts 
 seemed to flow out towards him with love and grati- 
 tude, as well as admiration. But he shall speak for 
 himself on this matter. His first letter from Pen- 
 zance, (for to Penzance they went from Torquay,) 
 was dated April i8, 1864 : — 
 
 " My dearest Coleridge, 
 " It is, indeed, too high time for me to write to you on 
 100 things, and first of all, to thank you over and over for 
 your good and timely advice about Torquay. You heard 
 of us from time to time through dear Mrs. Martyn, and the 
 rest of your kind allies and clanspeople there, who seemed 
 as if they could not do enough to befriend us. On the 
 whole, considering to what a ripe age I have attained, I 
 
Second Visit to Penzance. 501 
 
 have a marvellously fragrant remembrance of Torquay on 
 my mind, which will last me, I dare say, to the end of my 
 brief remaining time. The Churches and the Sundays were 
 so pleasant, and so much real sympathy, and all that is best 
 within a few ya:rds of us. Charlotte was not very much in 
 visiting, or in visitable order, during a great part of the 
 time, so that we did not make so much as we should have 
 wished of our privileges ; but she did mend, or, at least, 
 was kept from suffering as she would have done at home ; 
 so as to make us very thankful that we took your good 
 advice, and went there when we did. She was not then 
 in a condition to go much further, had we wished it ever 
 so much. And so when the Spring weather came, and we 
 got on here, she was in a condition to enjoy thoroughly her 
 dear old friend, the open sea, to the very edge of which we 
 have crept as close as ever we could, our house being within 
 about 12 feet of high-water at moderate Spring Tides. And 
 we see, both from bed-rooms and sitting-room, all round the 
 Bay from Mousehole to the Lizard. She has mended upon 
 it, as in old days ; for a great part of her time she neither 
 coughs, nor suffers neuralgia; and the E. wind which has 
 prevailed, has come to her very much mitigated by the sea. 
 She goes often to Church, and sometimes can take a toler- 
 able walk downhill. Altogether, I very much wish that I 
 could invest in a decent sea-side house and garden some- 
 where in this climate, with a good aspect, and within reach 
 of a good Doctor ; but such a thing is more easily wished 
 for than found. Sometimes I dream of combining such 
 a plan with being Curate of Hursley, (if I might,) in the 
 summer time. But I have not yet said anything of this to 
 the Patron ; she keeps on saying, ' Let us try another 
 winter.' One ought not to listen to this (?), for what a thing 
 it would be if one made the trial once too often." 
 
S02 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 It was not a long visit which they paid to Pen- 
 zance at this time, and I need not repeat the ac- 
 count which I have given as to Keble's course- 
 here, or the reception he met with ; but I think I 
 must not withhold part of a communication which 
 I received from Mr. Tyacke long after, dated from 
 St. Levan, to which he had been removed : — 
 
 " One trait in Mr. Keble's character, and one essentially 
 Christian, was his sympathy ; this I had the opportunity of 
 personally experiencing when I have seen him in Penzance, 
 since I came here to live. He took such real interest in 
 the character and progress of the work I am seeking to do 
 here ; he also expressed himself with such kindliness re- 
 specting the position of Dissenters, in this too long neg- 
 lected place, as shewed the loving nature of his heart. 
 
 " His humbling humility, too, shewed itself here as else- 
 where, when he would thank one for coming to see him, 
 and put himself into the position of a learner, when in con- 
 versation he asked an opinion for information. 
 
 " I seem to feel ' The Christian Year' a different book, or 
 rather a book of greater power now than I did before, and 
 I am thankful to be able to do so, it makes me reverence 
 his memory more.'' 
 
 I cannot help attaching importance to the infer- 
 ences to be drawn from such a letter as this ; the 
 particular circumstances are in themselves perhaps 
 not very remarkable ; but as naturally drawn traits, 
 which an intelligent stranger, (for such was Mr. 
 Tyacke to Keble,) observed so strongly, they give 
 us accurately the character to which they belonged. 
 
Return to Htirslcy. 305 
 
 Keble's next letter was dated on the 29th of April 
 at Dartington Parsonage, where Mrs. Keble and he 
 were resting in their way home ; they reached Hurs- 
 ley a few days after, and remained there for many 
 months. 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 SUBSCRIPTION AND OATHS OF THE CLERGY. — RE- 
 TURN FROM PENZANCE. — PRACTICE AS TO CON- 
 FIRMATIONS. — PARALYTIC SEIZURE, NOVEMBER, 
 1864. — SECOND VISIT TO TORQUAY. — REMOVAL 
 TO PENZANCE. — THE COLENSO APPEAL. — PASTO- 
 RAL LETTER TO THE CONFIRMED AT HURSLEY. 
 — ^VISIT AT heath's COURT, MAY lO. — RETURN TO 
 HURSLEY. — ABOLITION OF TESTS AT OXFORD. — 
 MRS. KEBLE'S SEVERE ILLNESS. — VISIT OF DR. 
 PUSEY AND DR. NEWMAN. 
 
 IT was at the close of 1863, or very early in 1864, 
 that a Royal Commission issued to consider the 
 existing laws as to oaths taken and subscriptions 
 made by the Clergy. The late excellent Primate 
 was placed at the head of it, the Archbishops of 
 York and Armagh, and several other Bishops, were 
 members ; and it was certain that it was not issued 
 in any spirit hostile to the Church. I hardly know, 
 however, whether at first it was an unmixed plea- 
 sure to Keble, that Sir William Heathcote and 
 myself were also members. Although he did not 
 fear the spirit in which the Commission issued, and 
 by which its functions were carefully guarded, he saw 
 
Subscription and Oatlis of the Clergy. 505 
 
 clearly, or thought he saw, that the real motive for 
 issuing it was to satisfy men who did not in truth be- 
 lieve in all that the clergy swore to and subscribed ; 
 and he was apprehensive that in the desire to do this 
 some portion of vital truth might be conceded. He 
 doubted, too, where this small beginning would end. 
 Before he is condemned as narrow and unreasonable 
 in this, some of the publications of the day, and their 
 acceptance, as well as the state of religious opinion 
 and teaching at Oxford and elsewhere,, must be 
 borne in mind. The strange language also must 
 be remembered, which, it was commonly said, had 
 proceeded from a high legal authority even in judg- 
 ment, as to the meaning of such a word for example 
 as "everlasting," in reference to the punishments of 
 the other world. Years before he had said no less 
 beautifully than forcibly : — 
 
 " Then is there hope for such as die unblest, 
 
 That angel wings may waft them to the shore, 
 Nor need th' unready virgin strike her breast, 
 
 Nor wait desponding round the bridegroom's door. 
 
 ■" But wJure is then the stay of contrite hearts 1 
 Of old they lean'd on Thy eternal word. 
 But with the sinner's fear their hope departs, 
 
 Fast hnk'd as Thy great Name to Thee, O Lord °." 
 
 And now he wrote : — 
 
 " There is never a boy or girl going up and down the 
 
 ■ "Christian Year," Second Sunday in Lent. 
 
So6 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 street but can catch in a moment the idea of there being^ 
 no Hell, and can apply it when tempted to deadly sin; 
 and, in fact, who can tell how many souls may have been 
 already lost by the mere broaching of the idea." 
 
 He was from this and other circumstances in a 
 state of mind more than commonly sensitive; and 
 he was at all times especially alive to anything that 
 touched the Common Prayer-book. When we of 
 the Commission were considering the declaration of 
 " unfeigned assent and consent to all and everything 
 contained and prescribed in and by it," which the 
 Act of Uniformity required to be made upon pre- 
 sentation or collation to any benefice, and I con- 
 sulted him on some proposed changes of these words, 
 he answered me thus : — 
 
 " I have nothing to say but what appears to me tlie 
 plainest common sense, as much within the reach of the 
 simplest labourer believing, as within my reach. It is alL 
 comprised in two points, i. That the Teacher should be- 
 pledged to the Faith and Practice of the Church, and 2^ 
 that the Taught should know them to be so pledged. With 
 a view to the former, supposing men to be honest, (a thing 
 implied in the very notion of subscription ex animo^ I 
 don't see that there is any fundamental difference between 
 one of the suggested forms and another. But in regard of 
 the latter, the right of believing Laity to be satisfied that 
 they and their children shall be taught according to their 
 behef, these two things occur to me, i". that the mere 
 cry for alteration is to such a ground of suspicion ; for it 
 naturally occurs to therh, why do people want this altered. 
 
Suhscriptio7i and Oaths of the Clergy. 507 
 
 except because they do not quite believe it themselves? 
 And what is more alarming, it is not denied, it is dwelt on 
 m Parliament as a great reason for the change that good 
 and clever men are kept out, or, being within, are made 
 uncomfortable, through lack of some such alteration. And 
 •what other interpretation can one put on the proposal to 
 leave out the 'assensus and consensus,' than to license in 
 holy ministrations language which the heart inwardly dis- 
 avows ? This being so, one (2) must prefer that among the 
 proposed forms which least disturbs the existing practice. 
 
 And that if I understand it rightly, is ' amendment with 
 
 Mr. ' further resolution. I wish we could retain the 
 
 'assensus and consensus' somehow; one could have done 
 without it, perhaps, but being there, its omission will be 
 a positive act, and is sure to have the positive consequence ■ 
 above-mentioned. " 
 
 If my dear friend could have been present at the 
 meetings of the Commissioners, and witnessed the 
 spirit vi^hich was manifested in all their discussions, 
 I think his mind would have been made more easy, 
 and, I may venture to say, disabused of some pre- 
 judices. Unless I am mistaken, both Houses of 
 Convocation adopted the conclusions to which we 
 came. It is too early undoubtedly to speak of any 
 fruit which they have borne ; they have been ac- 
 cepted, and I believe acted on gratefully and heart- 
 ily, and not less by one party in the Church than- 
 the other. 
 
 Keble went on in the same letter to say : — 
 
 " Since the assent of Convocation is recited in the pre- 
 
5o8 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 amble of the Act establishing the Prayer-book, ought not 
 this change in the Act to be first laid before Convocation, 
 seeing that it (the change) will relax the binding force not 
 of this or that part, but of the whole ?" 
 
 Keble was anticipating changes in kind and de- 
 gree very far exceeding what were in the end re- 
 commended and became law ; but I confess in the 
 principle of this last recommendation he seems to 
 me quite right, and that it was a jealousy of the ' 
 Spiritual power, quite unworthy of the undoubted 
 greatness of Parliament, which refused to admit in 
 the Preamble of the Act passed, any recital ex- 
 pressing in any way that Convocation had con- 
 curred in the provisions. The statute would surely 
 have been just as entirely the act of the legisla- 
 ture only. 
 
 They returned from Penzance in April, (1864,) 
 and continued at Hursley till towards the end of 
 November : — 
 
 " My wife's behaviour," (as he called it, -vvriting in Sep- 
 tember,) " has been tolerably good, yet not without neu- 
 ralgia, and shortness of breatli, coming exceptionally, and 
 generally to be accounted for, so that we are not in a way 
 to flatter ourselves that we shall make out the winter here ; 
 but we do hope, at least she does, to weatlier it until 
 Christmas." 
 
 Many friends visited them, and they made one 
 visit to Church Crookham, where Mrs. and Miss 
 
Return to Hursley. 509 
 
 M. A. Dyson were now living ; he speaks of this 
 thus characteristically : — 
 
 " By-the-bye, what a charming aiTangement that is of the 
 Dysons at Crookham. We were never there until this 
 summer, and then for 2 days in the very hot weather. All 
 the time I had almost a sense of his presence ; everything 
 seemed so exactly as if he had settled it for them, and then 
 gone out on a journey.'' 
 
 In the meantime he was as active as ever in the 
 discharge of his pastoral duties ; what that activity 
 was, I shall have occasion to shew before I con- 
 clude. A confirmation was to take place in Hursley 
 early in 1865. There was no one of those duties in 
 regard to which his practice was more careful and 
 laborious than in the preparation of the candidates 
 for this. 
 
 Mr. Young, to whom I am under many and great 
 obligations, has furnished me with so detailed an 
 account of his course in regard to this most im- 
 portant pastoral duty, that I cannot do better than 
 introduce it here : — 
 
 " He took," he says, " great pains in preparing the young 
 people for Confirmation ; sometimes, as soon as one Con- 
 firmation was over, making a list of those whose turn would 
 come next, and at all times beginning the preparation 
 several months beforehand. His usual course was to go 
 through in order, first the Baptismal Service, then the Cate- 
 chism, then the Confirmation Service, and, lastly, the Office 
 for Holy Communion. He took a certain portion each 
 
510 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 time, making perhaps 20 or 30 lessons in the wliole. He 
 usually wrote down on paper 3 or 4 passages of Scripture, 
 tearing on the subject of the next lesson, which he re- 
 quired to be learnt by heart, or carefully studied ; and 
 he was always very particular in ascertaining whether the 
 Lesson, as he called it, had been attended to. Wherever 
 it was practicable, he led his pupils up to their first Com- 
 munion immediately after Confirmation ; but in many cases 
 he was satisfied, if they promised to contmue under instruc- 
 tion. One class of boys came to him for more than a twelve- 
 month, and read through with him different parts of the 
 Bible, according to their own choice, before he could per- 
 ■suade them to turn their minds distinctly to preparation 
 for Holy Communion. I believe his rule as to refusing to 
 recommend for Confirmation those who would not pledge 
 "themselves to communicate, became stricter as years passed 
 ■on ; but I should say generally that he was always very 
 much guided by circumstances in regard to his adherence 
 to particular rules." 
 
 I will add one or two particulars supplied to me 
 hy a lady, who had scarcely less personal knowledge 
 than Ml-. Young : — 
 
 " One year, at the beginning of Lent, he gave notice that 
 there would be a Confirmation at the end of Lent in the 
 next year, and therefore desired to receive at once the 
 names of those who would then be of ripe age for Con- 
 firmation. The Children, whom he prepared, came to him 
 either in classes, or singly, every week for about a year be- 
 fore the administration of the Rite. He took those of dif- 
 ferent ranks and ages separately, as needing a difference 
 in the kind of teaching to be given ; and as there were few 
 of the Upper Class at the same time under preparation. 
 
Confirmation at Hursley. 511 
 
 these usually came to him each alone every week. The 
 knowledge of the Bible possessed by the Children long 
 before their preparation for Confirmation began, and the 
 ^vay in which it was interwoven in their minds with the 
 •Creeds and the Catechism, was something uncommon, in- 
 deed. If farm lads could not come to him for press of 
 work, he went to them, one by one, however far off." 
 
 " Latterly," writes to me another Lady, " he used to 
 bring the first class of boys to the Vicarage on Sunday 
 Mornings, and teach them in his Study, the door, as usual, 
 standing wide open all the time. He said he did it in 
 hopes it might make the big boys like coming, who might 
 think it beneath them to go to the School. He used to 
 say, ' I like them very much, if they would only like me ; 
 but tliey always do much better as long as they are under 
 nj)' wife.' 
 
 " If a servant came to him who was ignorant, or who had 
 not become a Communicant, he always taught her himself. 
 I have known him take the most ignorant girl day after day 
 -alone, carefully instructing her ; and although she had been 
 <onfirmed, deferring her first Communion from week to week, 
 until he had reason to hope she was prepared for it" 
 
 I could multiply statements of this kind, as to this 
 •part of his pastoral duty, but I will only add now 
 the impression which I myself received, when in his 
 house. It seemed to me that he and Mrs. Keble 
 were substantially the servants of the parishioners. 
 To attend to their wants, to help them in sickness, 
 trouble, or difhculty, at tJieir convenience, not his 
 or her's, or that of the guests in the house, was 
 -evidently the understood rule and practice. 
 
5 1 2 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 What wonder, then, if under such a course of 
 labour for years, such constant anxiety on her ac- 
 count, and such frequent distress in regard to Church 
 matters, his constitution at last broke down. My 
 narrative left him half hoping that Mrs. Keble's 
 health would enable them to stay over Christmas at 
 Hursley ; and he expressed no uneasiness whatever 
 about his own. But on the night of St. Andrew's 
 Day, the 30th of November, while he was sitting 
 alone after Mrs. Keble had retired, writing a letter for 
 publication on a matter deeply interesting to him, 
 he was struck with palsy on the left side and right 
 arm ; the' latter part of his writing was afterwards 
 found to be illegible ; but he did not lose his con- 
 sciousness, or his presence of mind. He went up to 
 her room, and they knelt down as usual, and said their 
 prayers together ; his voice was observably indistinct ; 
 and at the end, asking her if she had remarked any- 
 thing, he held out his hand, which was losing its 
 power. Medical aid was sent for at once, but during 
 the night the symptoms became worse ; from the 
 morning, however, they were alleviated. 
 
 His medical attendants who knew his constitution 
 well, the anxieties he had long been under, and his 
 habits of labour, advised his removal westward with- 
 out any delay as soon as his strength should be equal 
 to the journey to Torquay ; above all things they 
 were urgent for his taking rest. They attributed 
 the attack to over-exercise of the thinking powers. 
 
A ttack of Paralysis. 513 
 
 If he would rest, there was every reason to hope for 
 nearly, if not a complete, restoration of his health ; 
 and none without it. Before this illness, they had 
 settled to go to Penzance immediately after Christ- 
 mas, and their lodgings had been secured there from 
 the 28th of December. So long a delay would not 
 have been proper, and the distance to Torquay was 
 more convenient to the strength of both, and ac- 
 cordingly to Torquay they came. The medical 
 opinions there entirely concurred with that given 
 at Hursley. Keble said he was not aware of having 
 over-worked himself recently ; and the reply was ob- 
 vious, he had not been aware of it, because he had 
 for so many years been in the habit. 
 
 He promised obedience, and as far as he could 
 he kept his promise, that is, he read less and lightly, 
 and wrote little ; indeed, writing was now more than 
 ever a wearisome process ; its character was much 
 altered for the worse ; but how could he prevent 
 thoughts ? Medical advice of this kind is often 
 given ; but it seems to me, the weaker the body, 
 and the organs of the brain, the less control does 
 the will exercise over them. Habitual trains of 
 thought can in such a state be almost as little put 
 aside as distressing dreams in illness. And as such 
 dreams in such a state of the frame are sometimes 
 more than ordinarily distinct and vivid, so it seems 
 probable that our waking meditations may be per- 
 fectly clear and correct in the state in which Keble 
 
 Ll 
 
514 Memoir of the Rev. John -Keble. 
 
 •V/as, only that we cannot exercise the control of the 
 ■will over them, nor bid the mind be still. " Indeed," 
 wrote Mrs. Keble to me, " he does quite mean to be 
 prudent, but he can scarcely help thinking." And it 
 seems as natural that he should be thinking on the 
 subjects which painfully and habitually occupied his 
 mind when in health, as that our dreams by night 
 should borrow much of their train and colouring 
 from what may have much occupied or disturbed 
 ■our thoughts by day. 
 
 It was speedily found that they could not move on 
 to Penzance so soon as they had intended. They 
 were, however, well placed at Torquay. All that 
 could be done to cheer them they received ; he 
 was not allowed to see many persons, but they had 
 the great comfort of Miss Coxwell's and Mr. James 
 Young's attendance ; these two formed part of their 
 family, as it were, and could never be in the way; 
 they lightened the nursing and attendance, which 
 would have been too much for Mrs. Keble unas- 
 sisted, though providentially she as yet bore up 
 well. I was forbidden by my own medical friend 
 to leave home, and I could render no help, ex- 
 cept by answering for him some questions cis to 
 Church matters, which he had not been able to 
 -attend to. 
 
 Early in the year he took up his pen again 
 to write to me, and he dated from Penzance ; 
 lie wrote shoitly, and in a sadly altered character. 
 
Ilhiess of Mrs. Kebk. 5 1 J 
 
 -but with his usual overflowing affection. I give it 
 
 -entire : — 
 
 "F.,Z-i/an., 1865. 
 " Dearest Friend, 
 
 " You will be sorry to hear that my dear wife had one of 
 her very bad attacks on Saturday Morning. It soon sub- 
 sided, D. G., but left her of course very weak; however, 
 .she was down stairs yesterday evening, and is again this 
 morning. But the attack coming here was a disappoint- 
 ment. At home, indeed, it might have been much worse. 
 The weather has been very sharp here. 
 
 " I am very comfortable, and were it not for my wrist 
 -and voice, should hardly know that there was anything the 
 matter with me. Thinking, so far as it has come to me, has 
 not seemed to hurt me. I do not seek it. 
 
 " God reward and bless you for all your great love, and 
 .all yours with you. Your most affec'', J. K." 
 
 " C. is most thankful for your letter, and very sorry she 
 "Could not answer it." 
 
 However loyally he might endeavour to obey the 
 injunctions of his medical advisers, there was one 
 cause of anxiety over which he had no control, and 
 which almost continually pressed on him for the re- 
 mainder of his life, I mean Mrs. Keble's illnesses, 
 which henceforward were scarcely intermittent. And 
 now as she was recovering from her severe attack, 
 5he had the misfortune of a very severe scald in one 
 foot, which in her then state, and with her delicate 
 constitution, produced so much injury, and became 
 so serious, as to compel recourse to a second medical 
 .adviser. The danger apprehended was from a failure 
 
5 1 6 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 of strength, and the difficulty how to keep it up with- 
 out irritating the chest. " But," wrote he, as he sum- 
 med it up, " they are good fellows, and seem to know 
 what they are about. The rest is in His hands." 
 
 This is an extract from a note dated on the 6th of 
 February. He wrote short notes to me about her 
 progress from time to time all through that month. 
 On the loth of March he writes still from Penzance, 
 and gives this account of himself and her : — 
 
 " All thanks for your much love. I wish I could answer 
 it as I ought ; but my writing powers do not sensibly im- 
 prove, and I am told not to try them much. Ditto with 
 sjieaking; but I can read and think (D. G.) without finding 
 any inconvenience. In other respects I seem to myself well, 
 only not up to my ordinary amount of walking. Charlotte 
 is regularly down in our drawing-room from after breakfast 
 till after tea, and the wound on her foot, (now after 5 weeks 
 reduced to about the size of a shilling,) is not I hope much 
 of a trouble to her. She is in other respects pretty well for 
 her, and always cheerful. The weather has mostly been 
 very pleasant ; yoiir snow, if it came at all to us, came in 
 the shape of coldish rain. I wish Torquay had not proved 
 such a failure to you." 
 
 The Oxford contest of this year was already in 
 preparation, and he was sensitive about Sir William 
 Heathcote, whose seat no one wished to disturb, but 
 as to whose course in regard of what could be no 
 more than a mere understanding between the other 
 two candidates there was some little delicacy : — 
 
 " Can there," wrote Keble, " be possibly any doubt 
 about H.'s position on the Oxford Poll. I should think that 
 
The Stay at Penzance. 517 
 
 all the Hardys and the majority of the others would surely 
 support him." 
 
 It is well known that this expectation was fully 
 justified. 
 
 After some words about his brother and riephew, 
 he ends thus cheerily : — 
 
 " My wife has the most charming weekly letters from Ch. 
 Yonge, and she keeps her supplied with the most charming 
 French Books. Moreover, we solace ourselves with a nightly 
 rubier or two, a great step in old folks' education. With all 
 love from us both, I am most affect'^ yours, J. K." 
 
 I believe this nightly rubber was, indeed, as he 
 calls it, "a step in old folks' education," with him; 
 at least, I never remember seeing him have recourse 
 to the innocent pastime in earlier life. 
 
 I do not remember what book I had sent him, 
 which he so kindly acknowledges on the 24th of 
 March : — 
 
 " Dearest Friend, 
 " First thank you again and again for that beautiful book, 
 beautiful in every sense. It is so refreshing to open a col- 
 lection entirely of old and tried gems; tho' far the greater 
 part of them, I must confess, are new to me. We are both 
 of us, D. G., reasonably well, though I cannot boast much 
 of getting on, as you see. Nor is Ch. able to get out at all ; 
 nor has her foot even as yet quite healed. I think the E. 
 Wind, which is here as everywhere else, though mitigated, 
 is against both of us." 
 
 The handwriting of this letter was, indeed, very 
 feeble, but it was much longer than any he had 
 
5 1 8 Memoir of the Rev. John Kehle. 
 
 written before since his illness ; for this was the time,. 
 I think, when the issue between the Bishop of Cape 
 Town and Bishop Colenso was submitted to the 
 Judicial Committee ; and he looked on that submis- 
 sion, in the first instance, on the part of the Govern- 
 ment, and the question being entertained by the 
 Committee at all, as grievances. It is well known 
 that the appeal was finally entertained, and decided 
 in favour of the appellant ; the lamentable and per- 
 haps unavoidable consequences are also well known ;, 
 but this is not the place to enlarge on them. I men- 
 tion the matter, because in some sort it is part of 
 Keble's biography, and because there is no doubt 
 that the general subject formed to the end of his- 
 life one of the sources of distress, which helped to- 
 break down his strength, and accelerated its close. 
 
 The decision of the Appeal, it is right to add,, 
 satisfied him, as he understood it. In a letter writ- 
 ten by Mrs. Keble under his dictation, on the 31st of 
 March, he says : — 
 
 " I see most thankfully that the decision annuls Colenso's; 
 Episcopate, (meaning of course his territorial jurisdiction,) 
 and if I understand it rightly, almost all the Colonial Sees 
 as much as it does tlie Metropolitan's claim, and therefore 
 virtually leaves the matter to be settled by the Churchmen 
 of the two dioceses. And what I pray and hope may be 
 done is, — 
 
 " I. That this may be thoroughly and openly recognised 
 by the authorities in England. 
 
The Colenso Judgment. 5 19 
 
 " 2. That the will of Natal may be fairly and fully ascer- 
 tained, (that of Capetown is ascertained without 
 a doubt). 
 
 "3. That so much of Natal as may wish to continue^, 
 (what it has supposed itself hitherto',) a See in the 
 province of Capetown, may be allowed to elect its. 
 own Bishop, and Capetown to consecrate him. 
 
 *' 4. That the Metropolitan with his Sufficagans may freely 
 exercise the prerogative inherent in them, of cen- 
 suring, and if need be, excommunicating any heretic. 
 Bishop or other, who may be molesting the faithful 
 within the Province. 
 
 " 5. All, of course, subject to the correction of th'e- 
 Gourts temporal, in respect of any temporal wrong 
 sustained." 
 
 Such were Keble's not unreasonable wishes ; we 
 know how far they seem even now from being accom- 
 plished ; nay, how disturbing^ even to the Church 
 at home have been the miserable distractions of the 
 English Church in Southera Africa. It is a very 
 painful subject to think on. Lawyers,, who con- 
 sidered the matter, had long suspected that the 
 Colonial Episcopate in many of the colonies stood 
 upon a very sandy foundation as to jurisdiction and 
 discipline. There was a hope, which people were 
 but too glad to indulge in, that by God's bless- 
 ing on Christian holiness, discretion, and temper, 
 years might elapse before the solidity of the foun- 
 dation in these respects might be tried. If this had 
 been granted time might have consolidated it ; acts- 
 
520 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 would in all probability have been done, and ac- 
 quiesced in, and the result have amounted to ac- 
 ceptance and consent; so presumptions would have 
 arisen, to which Courts of Law would have pro- 
 perly allowed great weight. Unfortunately such 
 events occurred as made it necessary to examine 
 the foundation too soon, and the original defect 
 was laid open. It is very convenient to lay the 
 blame now, in the particular instance, on the Metro- 
 politan Bishop, but it may surely be said, without 
 vindicating his conduct in every step, that this is 
 most unjust. The Law Officers at home, whoever 
 they were, on whose authority the Patent issued, 
 ought to be answerable for its worthlessness. The 
 Bishop may have committed errors of conduct in the 
 course of the long warfare in which he has been 
 engaged ; naturally enough in the commencement 
 he assumed the authority of the Crown, and the 
 validity of the Patents which it had issued. But 
 the inherent defect depended on circumstances on 
 the one hand, and on legal principles on the other, 
 which ought to have been well known and appre- 
 ciated by the legal advisers of the Queen. To state 
 this may. give offence, but at the hazard of that, 
 what it is just to state ought to be stated. 
 
 I turn with pleasure from these remarks to a sub- 
 ject far more agreeable to think on. On the 28th of 
 March, 1865, the Confirmation took place at Hursley, 
 in the preparation for which Keble had been inter- 
 
Confirmation at Hursley. 521 
 
 rupted by his illness. It should seem to have been 
 the first time that he had been absent on such an 
 occasion, and now, when the day arrived, his heart 
 was with the young ones of his flock. He sent to 
 them from Penzance in proof of this an address, 
 which seems to me so valuable in itself, and so cha- 
 racteristic of him, so worthy to be preserved, and yet 
 so likely to be lost,^that I feel it right to insert it 
 here at length, and in its place in point of time : — 
 
 " To THE Newly-Confirmed at Hursley. 
 " March 28, 1865. 
 
 -' It is a real grief to me that I am not able to be with 
 you on this, as on former Confirmation Days. But I may 
 be able, by God's help, to say a word to you now which shall 
 remain with you and do you good in time of temptation, 
 
 " What shall the word be, my Children ? 
 
 " Our Lord Himself seems to have given it to us in the 
 second Lesson for this morning, — St. John xv., 'abide;' — 
 over and over He says it, — ' Abide in Me, and I in you.' 
 
 " You are now His, and He is yours. Doubt it not, but 
 earnestly believe it. 
 
 " If you have come here to-day with a good and true 
 mind towards Him, the Holy Spirit has come to you in the 
 laying on of hands, and has sealed you afresh, as He had 
 before sealed you in Baptism. 
 
 " All henceforth will depend on your keeping this Seal un- 
 broken ; and that can be only in one way, by watching. 
 
 "Watch yourselves, then, dear Children, in all your 
 ways. Whenever Christ's Spirit in your heart says to you, 
 ' Do not this thing, — draw back your hand, look another 
 way, think of something else, — for this thing I hate,' — take 
 
522 Memoir of the Rev. John Kehle. 
 
 care to attend to Him, and obey the gracious warning at 
 once. And when the good Spirit whispers, ' Do this,' do it 
 at once for His sake. For instance, I know that He is- 
 now putting you in mind of Holy Communion. 
 
 " Let nothing tempt you to lose time about It, but go- 
 directly to your Minister, and tell him you wish to be pre- 
 pared for It, if you have not done so already ; for depend 
 upon it, that Bread is as necessary for your Soul's life, as. 
 your daily bread is for the life of your body. 
 
 "Thus you will be watching your ways ; and that you. 
 may have Grace and Power to do this, you must watch 
 your Prayers too. You must try always to mean what you 
 say, when you ask God to keep you from sin, and give you. 
 more Grace. 
 
 " So doing you will Abide in Christ, and be sure He ivill 
 abide in you. There may be sorrow on the road, but all 
 will go right in the end, for you will see His Face with joy. 
 And, oh ! how gladly will you then remember this day, if 
 for your dear Lord's sake you shall have made it a day of 
 such good beginnings. 
 
 " Do not then delay, but be found watching, the very 
 first time you are tried. 
 
 "God grant that it may be so with each one of you.. 
 This is the earnest prayer of 
 
 " Your loving Father and Servant in Cluist, 
 "John Keble." 
 
 On the 1 8th of April he wrote a cheering ac- 
 count of Mrs. Keble ; they were planning their re- 
 turn home, and promised us a visit on their way. 
 Of himself, he says : — 
 
 "I have not for a good time found much change i». 
 
Last Visit to Penzance. 523-. 
 
 myself, but I think I can walk farther, and perhaps read and. 
 write better ; still I don't feel as if I could do my duty at- 
 home, or a fair share of it, but nous verrons." 
 
 On the 19th he wrote again, having made some 
 mistake as to the dates of their intended movements,, 
 and says of himself, " I fear that it will be a very 
 small fraction of my duty that I shall be able to do- 
 myself." 
 
 They left Penzance after all not until the first 
 week of May, and he wrote on the 9th as to some 
 particulars in regard to his visit to us, and thus he 
 sums up as to this his last visit to Penzance : — 
 
 " I am very thankful to have so good a chance of a few- 
 hours with you ; the news from Stinchcombe makes every 
 hour seem more precious, and every surviving friend, and. 
 indeed every departed one, dearer. My wife is less of a_ 
 walker than I had hoped she might have been by this time. 
 Penzance, though it was indeed a shelter from the extreme 
 cold, was very trying from the spasmodic attack and scalded 
 foot, which came together, and from the Bronchitis which. 
 followed, and she has not got herself up quite properly. 
 But we cannot think enough of His goodness in sparing us 
 as He has done. Heathcote is waiting to see' us before 
 starting for Malvern, so I fear we must not think of another 
 night with you, even if it could be otherwise." 
 
 They came to us on the loth of May, and left us- 
 on the following afternoon for home ; a short visit, 
 and the last ; but one for which I never can be too- 
 
524 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 thankful. He seemed to me much recovered, looking 
 better ; and he was stronger, and far more helpful than 
 J had ventured to hope for; and his "mind," I say 
 in my memorandum at the time, "seems perfect." 
 We were much alone, and conversed much, some- 
 times on subjects which might have taxed his powers 
 and his memory a good deal. I remember among 
 ■other things in speaking of one of Dr. Colenso's ob- 
 jections, as to the descent into Egypt of Jacob, with 
 his sons, and descendants, and the return from it, 
 his stating an explanation of his own, which involved 
 the repetition of many names, and some calculations ; 
 his memory was matter of surprise to me, though he 
 had a difficulty' sometimes of utterance ; which im- 
 peded only, but did not prevent the statement of all 
 particulars. He had less command of himself when 
 his tender affections were stirred. We talked of old 
 and departed friends ; in speaking of Cornish, he 
 suddenly turned away, covered his face with both 
 hands, and shed a torrent of tears ; but he soon re- 
 covered his calmness. It is impossible adequately 
 to describe his sweetness and affectionate manner ; 
 it seemed to me then as now, that the thought of 
 his departed friends, and the consideration of his own 
 state, about which I am sure he never deceived him- 
 self, made him cling only the more closely to the 
 very few who remained. And so, I trust, that as 
 we advance in age, and strive as in reason we ought 
 to do to make our attachments less and less strong 
 
Last Visit to Heath's Court. 525 
 
 to the things which are merely of this earth and for 
 this life, we may yet blamelessly, even commendably, 
 cling with warmer and closer love to the persons, the 
 friends, whom loving through life we humbly hope 
 to love through all eternity. Keble and I parted at 
 this time not to meet again in this world ; but I was 
 spared, and I believe he was spared from anticipating 
 this at the time. 
 
 It was not until the 5th of June, Whitsun-Monday, 
 that he wrote to me from the old date, H. V., and t 
 make some extracts from Jhis letter :- — 
 
 " My dearest Coleridge, 
 
 " I am a thankless wretch for not having long ago told 
 you how much I like to think of the day we spent with you, 
 our pleasant talk, and everybody's kindness. 
 
 " We are, I think, D. G., as well, at least, as when we 
 parted ; I, if any difference, rather better. I read a lesson 
 or two in Church most days, now and then visit in one or 
 two of the nearest houses, drive out very often ; but for the 
 most part I lead a sort of semi-vegetable life, and have no 
 very definite prospect of promotion in that respect. But, 
 indeed, dear friend, I ought to be very thankful that it is no 
 worse ; and I am really ashamed of the love and kindness 
 that is shewn me. Dear H. is, I really hope, materially 
 better, and more cheerful about himself. 
 
 " Now I have one or two little questions to ask." [I pass 
 over what immediately follows as immaterial ; he then goes 
 on,J " 3. I can't get it out of my head, that it would be both 
 justice and good statesmanship to state in the Preamble of 
 the new Church Subscription Act, that the change had been, 
 
5e6 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 approved by the Convocations of both Provinces, as in the 
 present Act of Uniformity. This might be very valuable to 
 ■ us, if the Parliament should take to altering the P. B. If 
 you think this notion worth anything, you will know whom 
 
 to apply to about it better than I 
 
 " I am reading up some of dear Isaac Williams's works., 
 which to my shame I had neglected ; and I find them so 
 beautiful. Ever your most affectionate, J. K." 
 
 Through the remainder of this month, and to the 
 middle of July, he viras at Hursley, with no decline 
 apparently, nor any material improvement of his 
 >bodily health. He took much interest in the Ox- 
 ford Election, for vi^hich we were now preparing ; 
 and whatever exertion he thought it useful to make 
 •on behalf of Mr. Gladstone, for whorp he felt as 
 warmly and as unreservedly as ever, he made as 
 heartily as of old. This does not mean that he 
 •agreed with him in every opinion, or measure, which 
 he was understood to favour ; as to some he would 
 say, that though as he understood them, he did not 
 wholly approve them, yet he thought it became per- 
 sons not conversant with State affairs to have con- 
 fidence in one, whose knowledge and ability were 
 superior to their own, and whose integrity of principle 
 they did not doubt. The Irish Church question, how- 
 ever, was not one of these ; as to this, I believe he 
 agreed with Mr. Gladstone in the principle, and I 
 shall have occasion to shew hereafter, there is good 
 ground for so believing. Beyond the principle I am 
 
Oxford Elecficn of i%6$. 5 27 
 
 Tiot aware of any direct evidence ; conclusions can only 
 be drawn from the general character of his sayings 
 and writings ; and considerate persons will, I think, 
 pause before they pronounce confidently either way. 
 
 At the Poll, as is well known, we were defeated, 
 to his great regret ; he thought the decision of the 
 University a misfortune. And I fear he would with 
 many others have thought her humiliated by her re- 
 jection of Sir Roundell Palmer in 1868. 
 
 The issue of the election, however, did not abate 
 liis interest in the University. Writing to me on the 
 25 th of July, very shortly after my son's election by 
 the city of Exeter, he says : — 
 
 " I should very much like to know wlietlier John includes 
 in his Abolition of Tests the Collegiate Foundations, as well 
 as the Universities. If he does, I am totally at issue with 
 liim, on what seem to me legal and constitutional, as well as 
 moral and religious grounds. Of course he does not mean 
 it j but might not what he says about the Irish Church have 
 somewhat of the effect of a fire brand, addressed to such 
 a very popular audience. I should have thought it fitter 
 for a Cabinet Council or a grave book. I should also have 
 ■thought it discreet not to put the matter forward so pro- 
 minently, unless a man saw his way to the mending of it ; 
 ■which perhaps John does. 
 
 " But I cannot say how much I am obliged to the said 
 John for what he has done for us in the matter of Con- 
 fession." 
 
 This last remark refers, I believe, to a legal opinion 
 given in a matter which arose out of the extraordinary 
 
528 Memoir of the Rev. John Kehle. 
 
 case of Constance Kent, and to services in it as hef 
 legal adviser. On the former part of the extract I 
 have already said all that it is needful for me to 
 say. Although the measure to which Keble refers 
 was in the commencement carefully confined to the 
 University, (and in some material circumstances the 
 cases of the two are clearly distinguishable in argu- 
 ment,) it always seemed to me that in the progress 
 of the measure it would be found impossible to 
 preserve the distinction entire ; though it might be 
 possible, and would certainly be just, to make modi- 
 fications as to the Colleges. 
 
 On the next day, (July 26,) he wrote again a short 
 note with some information respecting a matter we 
 were then both interested in, an Oxford testimonial 
 to Mr. Gladstone on the close of our Parliamentary 
 relations with him. I extract a sentence or two in 
 a more cheerful tone : — 
 
 " H. is just returned from spending two very pleasant 
 days with Lord Derby at Highclere. Lord D. was full of 
 fun, but H. is regretting that he omitted to ask him why 
 he renders ^oSms ' stag-eyed.' However, you see we have 
 two strings to our bow. Homer and good wit are in fashion, 
 whether we are Whigs or Tories." 
 
 He adds at the end : — 
 
 " My wife is very feeble, and her breatli troublesome. 
 The weather is sultry, and I fear we have too many visitors. 
 Your most loving, J. K." 
 
Illness of Mrs. Keble, 529 
 
 He very gently, as it was in his nature, alludes to 
 what had become a great and I fear a hurtful bur- 
 then to both himself and his wife in their feeble state, 
 the number of visitors who came to them ; especially 
 as a considerable portion of them were strangers, 
 whose object was to see and converse with the 
 Author of "The Christian Year," a thing he par- 
 ticularly disliked. Some would have little in them- 
 selves to lighten the burthen of entertaining them ; 
 and though some interested him much, yet even for 
 that very reason they fatigued him too ; and he was 
 always anxious for Mrs. Keble. Yet he could not 
 refuse these visits, nor decline to exert himself to 
 please those whose motive he felt to be kind and 
 reverential. 
 
 A visit from Bisley, or from an old friend, was 
 a different thing, and with different results. August 
 19, he says : — 
 
 " We keep about the same, I not much better, nor yet, 
 D. G., any worse ; she too often with her breath out of 
 order, and the other symptoms of (I suppose) a disordered 
 spine, but rallying again, and taking her drives. Just now 
 we have Tom Sen', and his wife staying with us, a great 
 delight ; too great to last long." [And noticing all my scat- 
 tered family, he concludes,] " Kind love to all, Swiss and 
 English, on the Moor or by the River." 
 
 It was clear, as the year advanced, that Mrs. Keble 
 must move from Hursley ; the attacks on her breath 
 
 now recurred two or three times a-week, and their 
 
 M m 
 
530 Memoir of t/ze Rev. John Kehle. 
 
 good Doctor Sainsbury, of Romsey, pressed them ta 
 try the effect of change of air. Keble, who never 
 deceived himself as to the seriousness of her ail- 
 -Ttients, felt how important it would be to diminish 
 as much as he could the distance between her and 
 lier sister. They went, therefore, with his brother 
 and sister to Bournemouth •on triai, and the result 
 was so promising, that they made a sort of con-. 
 ditional engagement to return in October for the 
 Avinter. They had hoped for a month of fine wea- 
 rther at home ; but only three days after their re- 
 i;urn, she had one of her worst attacks ; indeed, the 
 account he gave me of it was frightful ; feeling its 
 approach, she began to go up-stairs to her room, but 
 "' about half-way up she was obliged to sink down 
 -on tli^ staircase, and it was full 2^ hours before we 
 -could move her up to her bed. '^y God's mercy she 
 \vas relieved after a time." And up to October 9, 
 when he wrote to me, she had had no return, though 
 left in such a state that "to talk earnestly, even 
 to listen with great interest," put her in danger of 
 one. Yet strange to say she was afterwards able 
 nto take her drives as usual, and even to go to 
 London to consult Dr. Gull, and return on the fol- 
 lowing day. 
 
 I mention these incidents of her attack with this 
 particularity on account of the remarkable visit to 
 liursley, which he himself thus shortly mentions at 
 the end of a rather long letter, written to me on the 
 C)th of October from Hursley : — 
 
Letter of Dr. Newman. 531 
 
 " Ought we not to thank God more than ever for E. B. P. ? 
 how he has come out in print and in Congress. He 
 .and J. H. N. met here the very day after my wife's attack. 
 P., indeed, was present when the attack began. Trying as 
 it all was, I was very glad to have them here, and to sit by 
 them and listen ; but I cannot write more of it now." 
 
 I v/as very anxious to have an account of a visit 
 tso remarkable in itself, and about which so much, 
 interest was felt, more detailed than Keble had 
 given me in the extract I have made above ; and 
 yet as calm, and as free from exaggeration as he 
 would have furnished himself, or desired to have 
 preserved. And I therefore took the liberty of ap- 
 -plying to one of the survivors. Dr. Newman was 
 good enough to furnish me with all that I desired ; 
 and, further, in answer to a second request, to allow 
 me to publish his letter, for which I thank him sin- 
 'Cerely, and I am sure my readers will thank him as 
 Jicartily and sincerely : — 
 
 " E.EDNALL, 
 
 "Sep' 17, 1868. 
 " Dear Sir John Coleridge, 
 " I must begin by apologizing for my delay in acknow- 
 ledging your letter of the 10*. Owing to accidental cir- 
 cumstances, my time has not been my own; and now, 
 when at length I write, I fear I shall disappoint you in the 
 answer which alone I can give to your question. It almost 
 iseems to me as if you were so kind as to wish me to write 
 .«uch an account of my visit to Mr. Keble as might appear 
 
532 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 in your Memoir, but, as I think you will see, my memory is 
 too weak to allow of my putting on paper any particulars of 
 it which are worth preserving. It was remarkable, certainly, 
 that three friends, he, Dr. Pusey, and myself, who had been 
 so intimately united for so many years, and then for so many 
 years had been separated, at least one of them from the 
 other two, should meet together just once again ; and for 
 the first and last time dine together simply by themselves. 
 And the more remarkable, because not only by chance 
 they met all three together, but there were positive chances 
 against their meeting. 
 
 " Keble had wished me to come to him, but the illness 
 of his wife, which took them to Bournemouth, obliged him 
 to put me off. On their return to Hursley, I wrote to him 
 on the subject of my visit, and fixed a day for it. After- 
 wards, hearing from Pusey that he too was going to Hursley 
 on the very day I had named, I wrote to Keble to put off 
 my visit. I told him, as I think, my reason. I had not 
 seen either of them for twenty years, and to see both of 
 them at once, would be more, I feared, than I could bear. 
 Accordingly, I told him I should go from Birmingham to 
 friends in the Isle of Wight, in the first place, and thence 
 some day go over to Hursley. This was in September, 1865. 
 But when, on the 12th, I had got into the Birmingham train 
 for Reading, I felt it was like cowardice to shrink from the 
 meeting, and I changed my mind again. In spite of my 
 having put off my visit to him, I slept at Southampton, and 
 made my appearance at Hursley next morning without being- 
 expected. Keble was at his door speaking to a friend. He 
 did not know me, and asked my name. What was more 
 wonderful, since I had purposely come to his house, I did 
 not know him, and I feared to ask who it was. I gave 
 him my card without speaking. When at length we found 
 
Letter of Dr. Newman. 533 
 
 out each other, he said, with that tender flurry of manner 
 which I recollected so well, that his wife had been seized 
 with an attack of her complaint that morning, and that he 
 could not receive me as he should have wished to do ; nor, 
 indeed, had he expected me ; for ' Pusey/ he whispered, ' is 
 in the house, as you are aware.' 
 
 " Then he brought me into his study, and embraced me 
 most affectionately, and said he would go and prepare Pusey, 
 and send him to me. 
 
 " I think I got there in the forenoon, and remained with 
 him four or five hours, dining at one or two. He was in 
 and out of the room all the time I was with him, attending 
 on his wife, and I was left with Pusey. I recollect very 
 little of the conversation that passed at dinner. Pusey was 
 full of the question of the inspiration of Holy Scripture, 
 and Keble expressed his joy that it was a common cause, 
 in which I could not substantially differ from them; and 
 lie caught at such words of mine as seemed to shew agree- 
 ment. Mr. Gladstone's rejection at Oxford was talked of, 
 and I said that I really thought that had I been still a mem- 
 ber of the University, I must have voted against him, be- 
 cause he was giving up the Irish EstabUshment. On this 
 Keble gave me one of his remarkable looks, so earnest 
 and so sweet, came close to me, and whispered in my ear, 
 (I cannot recollect the exact words, but I took them to be,) 
 * And is not that just ?' It left the impression on my mind 
 that he had no great sympathy with the Establishment in 
 Ireland as an Establishment, and was favourable to the 
 Church of the Irish. 
 
 " Just before my time for going, Pusey went to read the 
 Evening Service in Church, and I was left in the open air 
 with Keble by himself He said he would write to me in 
 the Isle of Wight, as soon as his wife got better, and then 
 
534 Memoir of the Rev. John Kcble. 
 
 I should come over and have a day with him. We walked; 
 a hltle way, and stood looking in silence at the Church, 
 and Churchyard, so beautiful and calm. Then he began 
 to converse with me in more than his old tone of inti- 
 macy, as if we had never been parted, and soon I was- 
 obliged to go. 
 
 "I remained in the Island till I had his promised letter- 
 It was to the effect that his wife's illness had increased, and 
 he must give up the hopes of my coming to him. Thus,, 
 unless I had gone on that day, when I was so very near not 
 going, I should not have seen him at all. 
 
 " He wrote me many notes about this time ; in one oC 
 them he made a reference to the lines in Macbetli : — 
 
 " ' When shall we three meet again 1 
 When the hurley-burley's done, 
 When the battle's lost and won.' 
 
 " This is all I can recollect of a visit, of whicli almost 
 the sole vivid memory which remains with me is the image 
 of Keble himself. 
 
 " I am, dear Sir John Coleridge, 
 " Yours faithfully, 
 
 " John H. Nevitman."* 
 "Sir John Coleridge, &'c., i^c." 
 
 I must not venture to add a word of comment on 
 this letter'; and I must be careful not to suffer my 
 feelings to exaggerate the interest of this meeting, 
 so remarkable in every way. It is difficult, indeed, 
 to restrain one's emotion in thinking of what must 
 have been in the hearts of these three friends, once 
 so bound together in the prosecution of the highest 
 
Letter of Br. Newman. 535- 
 
 objects ; separated in the body, but not in heart,.for so- 
 many years ; and now meeting under such trying cir- 
 cumstances, for a brief while, and for the last time in 
 this world ; what must one of them, at least, have felt 
 as he stood with Keble, " looking in silence on that 
 Church and Churchyard, so beautiful and calm." 
 
 They parted, and Keble wrote the well-known lines; 
 from Macbeth. I hope we may not irreverently loolc 
 forward for them to another more blessed meeting, — 
 
 " When before the Judgment-seat, 
 Though changed, and glorified each face. 
 
 Not innremeiijibered ye may meet 
 For endless ages to embrace.'' 
 
CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 OCTOBER II, 1865, LEAVE HURSLEY AND GO TO 
 BOURNEMOUTH. — LETTER ON THE RITUAL QUES- 
 TION. — HIS LIFE AT BOURNEMOUTH. — ILLNESS. — 
 DEATH, MARCH 29, 1 866. — BURIAL AT HURSLEY. 
 — REMARKS ON PERSON AND CHARACTER. — MRS. 
 KEBLE'S DEATH, BURIAL, CHARACTER. 
 
 BUT little remains to be told. The illness of 
 Mrs. Keble, of which there had been so alarm- 
 ing an attack at the very time of the meeting of the. 
 three friends, continued to manifest itself in gradually- 
 increasing weakness and suffering,; from which there 
 was no effectual rallying, and never any complete 
 relief. She was, indeed, sometimes more easy, and 
 must have had considerable strength of constitution. 
 She was supported, too, by a cheerful heart, and en- 
 tire resignation to God's dispensations. To these 
 last Keble bears most affecting testimony in the let- 
 ters I am about to transcribe. 
 
 They were advised to lose no time in settling 
 themselves for the winter at Bournemouth, but .they 
 were naturally desirous to keep the anniversary of 
 
Visit to Bournemouth. 537 
 
 their wedding-day, the thirtieth, at home. This was 
 on the loth of October, and on the eleventh they left 
 it, never to return alive. Domestic as he was by 
 nature, and always prone to attach himself to places 
 as well as persons ; and loving his parishioners, his 
 church, his parish, and his parsonage, as he did, we 
 may well imagine with what feelings he commenced 
 his journey to Bournemouth. I am not sure that 
 he had at all realized to himself that he should 
 never return. This, indeed, was of less consequence 
 to him who always carried his life in his hand, and 
 whose heart was stayed elsewhere ; but I feel sure 
 that he had realized this to himself, that if he did 
 return, it would be to follow his wife to her grave, 
 and linger at God's pleasure a widower on earth. 
 
 Mr. Moor tells us that on the Sunday before he 
 went, the 8th of October, Keble took some part in 
 the Services, reading the Lessons, and celebrating the 
 Holy Communion ; and not only this, but zealous 
 ±0 the last in the work he loved most, walked with 
 liim to visit some of his poor people at a distance ; 
 and also entertained at dinner some friends who had 
 ■come unexpectedly to see him. 
 
 The journey was well accomplished on theiith of 
 October. I am drawing near to the end of my store 
 of letters, and it will be seen that for what remains 
 to be told, I make use of his own pen wherever I 
 can J I believe my readers will with reason thank 
 me for this. 
 
538 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 On the 13th of October he wrote thus : — 
 
 " South Cliff Villa, Bournemouth, 
 " Oct. 13, 1865. 
 
 " Dearest Coleridge, 
 " We accomplished our journey here the day before yes- 
 terday, with as much comfort as we could expect, and ar& 
 well satisfied with our lodgings, which are as thoroughly 
 within breath of the sea as any in this place, and seem so- 
 far very comfortable. My niece Charlotte, and Fanny Cox- 
 well, are with us. But as yet I see no rallying, even to such 
 
 strength as before that last attack I do not mean tliat 
 
 I am without hope that, by God's blessing on constant car& 
 and prayer, we may hope to have her with us for an inde- 
 finite time, but she has had more frequent attacks, with less 
 of rallying in the intervals. 
 
 " I am ever, my dearest Friend, 
 " Most affec'y yours, J. K." 
 
 Of course I was writing to him frequently, and I 
 did not scruple to consult him on any difficulties 
 which I might have in my reading as at other times. 
 Among my own letters returned to me, I find in 
 one, written on the i8th of October, a passage 
 which I transcribe for the sake of the answer : — 
 
 "Now I want an answer from you, if you can give it 
 without book, and without trouble. Reading S. Bernard's 
 Sermons on the Advent, I am puzzled with this phrase 
 twice occurring. He is speaking of our Lord's two advents j 
 he urges his Monks to ponder how much He has performed 
 in the one, how much He has promised in the other, and 
 then says, ' Utinam cert6 dormiatis intif mrdios cleros. Htec 
 
Letter from Keble. 539' 
 
 sunt enim duo brachia Sponsi, inter quje Sponsa donniens ■ 
 aiebat. Lseva ejus sub capita meo, et dextera ejus am- 
 plexabitur me,' and goes on quoting Cantic. ii. 6. And, 
 again, ' Sint ergo, si dormire volumus inter medios cleros, id 
 est duos adventus, penns nostrse deargentatse.' The words, 
 • medios cleros,' are in my edition printed in italics as a quo- 
 tation. Don't trouble yourself about this, if it does not. 
 come into your head at once." 
 
 I thought the question might interest him, and 
 from his great familiarity with the Fathers, I did 
 not anticipate that I should put him to much trou- 
 ble. I was right in the first supposition, but it will 
 be seen what a diligent enquiry he made for me. 
 
 On the 26th of October he answered me ; and,,, 
 first, he gave an account of his wife's state, and 
 said that they were about to change their lodgings,, 
 "not being able to get a bedroom here on the- 
 same floor as this, which is quite necessary, for 
 though we do get her carried upstairs, the walking 
 down, and the colder air of the passages, is apt to 
 affect her breath ;" he then proceeds thus : — 
 
 " .... I have borrowed a S. Bernard from the Vicar here,, 
 and have thought over your question as well as I could, 
 with the help of the Bible, the Septuagint, and Gesenius. 
 I dare say you have long ago found out that the clause is 
 from the Vulgate Version of Ps. 68, (67,) v. 13, (14,) and 
 that inter medios cleros, is what our Bible version renders, 
 ' among the pots,' the Vulgate apparently adopting the word 
 xKripovs from the LXX. dvdfieo-ov Tav (cXijpmi'. So the question 
 is how the LXX. came to translate the Hebrew word which. 
 
540 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 we render 'pots' by 'lots,' or 'portions;' and the phrase 
 ' between the portions' somehow led my mind back to the 
 jite of dividing victims offered to sanction a covenant, as in 
 ■Gen. XV., and Jerem. xxxiv.', and a passing between ihs, por- 
 iions of the victims. Also the Hebrew of ' pots' is nearly the 
 same as that rendered ' hooks' in Ezek. xl. 43, where plainly 
 something is meant on which, or by means of which, the 
 flesh of the offerings for sacrifice was deposited on each side 
 of certain entrances to the Temple, so that the offerer or 
 •votary going in would pass 'between the hooks,' i.e. 'be- 
 tween the portions' of the sacrifice, (our Translation in the 
 margin there says, ' or endirons, or the two hearth-stones.') 
 The mystical meaning, then, of being between these portions 
 would be ' being under a covenant by Sacrifice, (see Ps. 1. 
 5,) and sleeping between them as Abram seems to have 
 done, would be, beitig at rest in that Covenant,' for which 
 purpose we must be sanctified as Christians, there must be 
 ■the ' wings of the dove,' &c I wish this may be intel- 
 ligible, and have something in it ; at any rate, it interested 
 
 me greatly. 
 
 * * * « -x- * 
 
 " I am disgusted much at finding the Colenso (pubUc) 
 fund is more than ^^2,000, the Cape-Town hardly ;^20o. 
 Hard Hnes for what is at worst a fault of temper. I cannot 
 write more just now. Ever yours, J. K." 
 
 I could not help observing to Keble, when I 
 thanked him for his answer, how much the Fathers 
 took for granted as to Biblical knowledge in those 
 whom they addressed. If they could do so pro- 
 perly, it would seem to indicate a much greater 
 general diffusion of that knowledge than prevails 
 
Letter from Keble. 541 
 
 now. Certainly, considering where the Fathers them- 
 selves studied, a kind of learning' seems necessary 
 which is now, I fear, not common even among the 
 Clergy ; it may be that a different kind is substi- 
 tuted ; whether more or less valuable I will not ven- 
 ture to say. But those among them, at least, who 
 yield to the sceptical spirit of the age, and delight 
 rather to find difficulties and suggest doubts, than 
 to accept old beliefs, are surely bound in con- 
 science to acquire a deep and thorough knowledge 
 not merely of Hebrew, but of the best and earliest 
 commentators, of the history, usages, and ritual of 
 the Hebrews, before they communicate their doubts 
 or their theories to the public ; considering how often 
 they are found to trouble men's minds needlessly 
 by doubts, which more of this knowledge shews to 
 be groundless, or by theories which rest mainly on 
 unwarranted assumptions. 
 
 I am not competent to pronounce any opinion 
 whether Keble, whose answer is, at least, ingenious 
 and learned, had correctly solved my difficulty ; and 
 I print the extract in great part to shew how en- 
 tirely he still preserved his activity and clearness of 
 intellect. But he gave a more remarkable proof of 
 this in a letter which he wrote and published in this 
 same month in the "Literary Churchman," on the 
 " Ritual of the Church of England." I hope this is 
 more known and considered, especially at this time, 
 than I fear it is. It is written in such an admirable 
 
542 Memoir of the Rev. jfohn Keble. 
 
 spirit, and with so much clearness and cogency, that 
 one might hope it might furnish a useful guide to 
 the clergy, and allay somewhat of the bitterness 
 which is so much to be lamented in the manner of 
 waging the present controversy. It is too long to 
 be inserted here entire, but I cannot forbear en- 
 riching my pages with the concluding paragraph. 
 The occasion recalls to my mind a wish which has 
 been expressed by one of Keble's dearest and wisest 
 friends, that all the occasional contributions which he 
 made to the public journals, as well as all his fugitive 
 pieces, should be collected, arranged, and published. 
 I entirely concur in this ; if it be not soon done, they 
 will surely be lost ; and as he never wrote anything 
 for publication without care and thought, the loss of 
 them would be much to be regretted : — 
 
 " It -would seem to follow upon these statements — and I 
 ■ understand that there is high legal authority for the opinion 
 — that the onus proba7idi lies in this matter upon the many 
 T>-ho practically ignore or slight the usages (of which num- 
 ber I must confess myself to be one) rather than upon the 
 few who have regularly maintained or recently adopted 
 tliem. I do indeed regret the disregard of that rubric as 
 a real blemish in our ecclesiastical practice — a contradic- 
 tion to our theory, less momentous, but quite as real as our 
 almost entire disuse of the discipline of Jesus Christ, our 
 obligation to which, nevertheless, we formally acknowledge. 
 But as in the latter case, so in this, the time and manner of 
 regaining the old paths must, under our circumstances, be 
 a question of equity and charity, not of strict law alone. I, 
 
Keble on Ritual. 543 
 
 for one, rejoice whenever and wherever I see that kind of 
 revival successfully and tranquilly accomplished. But the 
 ■success will be more complete, and the satisfaction more 
 perfect, when those who have the work at heart shall have 
 ceased to indulge themselves in invidious comparisons and 
 :sconiful criticisms on such among their brethren as do not 
 yet see their way to it \ and when, on certain kindred sub- 
 jects, they have learned to make candid allowance for the 
 difference between our circumstances and those with a view 
 to which the primitive canons were framed. I allude par- 
 ticularly to the disparaging tone sometimes used in speak- 
 ing of mid-day Communions, with small consideration, as it 
 seems to me, for the aged and infirm, and others who can- 
 not come early. Again, I cannot but doubt the wisdom of 
 urging all men indiscriminately to be present at the Holy 
 Mysteries — a matter left open, as far as I can see, by the 
 Prayer-book, and in ordering of which it may seem most 
 natural to abide by the spirit of the ancient Constitutions, 
 which did not willingly permit even the presence of any but 
 -communicants, or those of whom the clergy had reason to 
 believe that they were in a way to become such : the rather, 
 in that there appears to be some danger of the idea gaining 
 ground, which meets one so often in Roman Catholic books 
 of devotion, of some special, quasi-sacramental grace con- 
 nected with simply assisting devoutly at Mass, over and 
 -above that promised to all earnest and faithful prayer. 
 
 " On these and all like matters we may do well, perhaps, 
 to accept the counsel of our Church, in her first Reformed 
 Liturgy, concerning another main point of Christian disci- 
 pline" — such as are satisfied with the more modem and 
 _plainer ritual not to be offended with them that adopt the 
 
 » See the first Liturgy of King Edward the Vltli. on Auricular 
 •Confession. 
 
544 Memoir of the Rev. yohn Keble. 
 
 more ornate and symbolical requirements of the rubric; 
 those, on the other hand, who find comfort and edification 
 in the ceremonies to bear with their brethren who, for vari- 
 ous reasons, think best to dispense with them for the pre- 
 sent. And so, too, in regard of Communion after a meal, 
 and of encouraging the presence of non-communicants, and 
 the like, ' to follow and keep the rule of charity, and every 
 man to be satisfied with his own conscience, not judging 
 other men's minds or consciences, whereas he hath no war- 
 rant of God's Word to the same.' 
 
 '' Believe me, dear , with great respect, 
 
 " Very sincerely yours, 
 
 " John Keble." 
 
 Thus vsrisely and thus gently did he express him- 
 self in print on this subject ; but he yet felt very 
 warmly, and expriessed himself v^armly in conver- 
 sation, and by way of advice to a young friend, on 
 the suicidal folly of our hot contentions respecting 
 ritual, when we had to contend against such deadly 
 enemies as looseness of morals, and growing infi- 
 delity, sapping the very foundations of religion. He 
 sadly sighed for unity ; he did not agree with those 
 who thought that our only, or even our most power- 
 ful enemy, was Papal Rome. But he feared that 
 our acrimonious disputes on matters which do not 
 touch the foundations of our Faith, might give her 
 a power not her own ; as the devices and engines of 
 Imperial Rome were helped in breaching the walls 
 of the Holy City, by the internecine contentions of 
 the garrison within. 
 
Keble on Ritual. 
 
 545 
 
 The passage to which Keble makes reference in 
 this extract, it may be convenient to print here, as 
 the first Liturgy of Edward VI. is not in the hands 
 of all people. It stands at the end of what in our 
 present Liturgy is the first exhortation in the Com- 
 munion Service ; and it is conceived in a spirit so 
 charitable in itself, and so applicable to all parts of 
 the present controversy, that it is much to be re- 
 gretted that it was ever struck out : — 
 
 " Requiring such as shall be satisfied with a general con- 
 fession, not to be offended with them that do use to their 
 further satisfying the auricular and secret confession to the 
 Priest ; nor those also which think needful or convenient, 
 for the quietness of their own consciences, particularly to 
 open their sins to the Priest, to be offended with them that 
 are satisfied with their humble confession to God, and the 
 general confession of the Church ; but in all things to follow 
 and keep the rule of Charity ; and every man to be satisfied 
 with his own conscience, not judging dther merls minds or con- 
 sciences; whereas he hath no warrant of God's word to 
 the same" 
 
 He wrote to me again on the 30th and 31st of De- 
 cember, and I give the whole letter : — 
 
 ^ ._ " Bournemouth, 
 
 "'''""' " Z'^^'. 30, 1865. 
 
 " Dearest dear Friend, 
 
 " It is sad work, my trick of putting off my replies to 
 your loving letters. I can only say, as in so many former 
 years, Forgive me. I dare say I was a httle the more tardy 
 from having no very good news to tell ; good news, I mean, 
 
 N n 
 
54^ Memoir of ike Rev. John Keble. 
 
 according to our natural way of thinking about our clearest 
 Charlotte's health. I cannot hide it from myself, that she is 
 ^adually growing weaker, and that one thing after another 
 has to be given up ; walking more than a step or two, writing, 
 •chess, animated conversation, &c., &c., make her dear heart 
 l)eat too freely, and she suffers sadly from night perspiration 
 and faintness. The climate has not, as far as I can see, 
 been against her; it has been exceptionally mild, and for 
 this place, I hear, exceptionally moist, and if she had been 
 a little stronger, she might have gone out a little some days 
 in almost every week ; indeed, she has done rather more 
 than I expected in that way ; but I do not find that it re- 
 vives her as it used to do ; and all the brandy and turtle 
 soup they give her by day and by night only just serves to 
 •enable her to go on from day to day. The doctors said 
 some time since that we must not expect a cure, but might 
 hope for improvemerit ; now they hardly say that, but ex- 
 press surprise that we are yet spared other sjrmptoms which 
 I fear we must look for. But it all brings out moment by 
 inoment the goodness and sweetness with which He is con- 
 tinually endowing her ; at least, so it seems to a poor crea- 
 ture looking on it from below. 
 
 "31''- I cannot report any improvement; she has not 
 
 got up at all to-day ; and by tlie doctor's direction we have 
 
 telegraphed to Bisley. We had deferred doing so perhaps 
 
 too long on account of old Tom, who is rather in a critical 
 
 . state of health ; nevertheless, I do hope we may see them 
 
 \ to-morrow. Pray for us, dearest Friend, that she may be 
 
 : gently visited, and that I may be not found unfit to be with 
 
 "iher, at whatever distance, hereafter. I cannot write more 
 
 iibout myself; of her, if I had time, and my hand was 
 
 strong, I could go on for hours. With dear love for the 
 
 ..Christmas and New Year, I am ever yours, J. K," 
 
Alleviation of Mrs. Keble's symptoms. 547 
 
 He wrote again on the 7th of January a short note 
 respecting an offer he had received of translating the 
 PrcBlectiones for publication. Mrs. Keble's symptoms 
 had been somewhat alleviated, and the presence of 
 the brother and sister, with the tender attentions of 
 the latter as nurse, had cheered them all. Before 
 he could have any answer from me to this letter, he 
 •wrote again on the 9th as follows : — 
 
 " Bournemouth, 
 "Jan. 9, 1866. 
 " My dearest Coleridge, 
 " Thank, you, and thank you again, though too tardily for 
 •your too lo-ving letter. It is a great comfort, as your letters 
 .always are. I have not read it exactly to her, but you may 
 be sure she loves you -with a ti-ue sisterly love, and has done 
 •so all along. She has mended a litde, our Doctor says, 
 •during the last week. The long nightly faintings have sub- 
 •sided, and if she had not caught a cold, which disorders her 
 breath, I fancy we should have had hei: in our sitting-room 
 to-day or to-morrow. I think the Doctor expects her depar- 
 ture to be veiy gradual ; I fear, v/ith dropsical symptoms. 
 But we tiy to look on as littie as may be ; having been 
 already brought farther on our way together than we could 
 reasonably have expected. We do not at all repent of 
 having come here, the climate has been unusually moist 
 and mild, and we have comforts we could not have had at 
 Penzance. God reward you, dearest Coleridge, and your 
 ^ear wife and children, for all your love to her and me. 
 " Ever your most affec'=, J. EL" 
 
 He wrote to me again on the 31st of January, 
 
548 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 and early in March ; his friends, and I amongst 
 them, had been misinformed as to Mrs. Keble, or 
 the partial amendment of which he speaks in the 
 preceding letter had been represented too favour- 
 ably, and it is touching to see what he says on it. 
 But it is remarkable also how amid his distress at 
 the prospect of his approaching loss, he retained his 
 interest in what regarded Oxford, and Christian 
 Education. In order fully to understand some parts 
 of what he writes, it may be well for me to state 
 that I had written to him among other things on 
 the prospects of the new Parliament just about to 
 open. It seemed to me that every move, in what 
 is called the path of Liberal Progress, would in the 
 end be made good, and I thought that those who, 
 without reference to party, wished to preserve foun- 
 dations, and all of good built on them, should shape 
 their course with this conviction on their minds. 
 And I deprecated the old spirit which not seldom de- 
 fended that which was really objectionable in itself, 
 merely because it might be considered an out-work, 
 and because the surrender of it would probably not 
 appease the spirit of the invaders. I also wrote in re- 
 gard to the probable course of one in whom I was spe- 
 cially interested, how he desired to pass the coming 
 Session, his first in Parliament, and of the difficulty 
 cast on him by the expectations and instances of 
 his friends. I also gave my opinion of the remark- 
 able, and I may add, somewhat enigmatical book. 
 
Contemplated Changes at Oxford. 549 
 
 which he speaks of. In his mind all other Oxford 
 interests were as nothing in comparison with the 
 preservation of the faith there, to which he justly 
 thought sound teaching an indispensable mean. He 
 had an honest conviction that there was a great deal 
 of unsound teaching at present, and that it was bear- 
 ing a plentiful .harvest. I wish I could believe that 
 there was no foundation for his fears. Most reluc- 
 tantly I yield to evidence which forces them upon 
 me. It seems to me as if considerable cleverness, 
 great respectability of conduct, popular even amiable 
 manners, and an apparent candour, extending to 
 every subject and system but one, are waging such 
 a fight against Christianity as ought to make the 
 parents of Oxford students anxious ; while, I must 
 add, the insane and excessive passion for athletics, 
 as they are called, (indulged in our great schools as 
 well,) damps industry, and diverts from that severe 
 mental labour which is among the guards to pre- 
 serve the mind from yielding to sophistry. 
 
 Fears, however, I have none as to the ultimate 
 result; a battle is being fought, which has been 
 fought more than once before, and victory has al- 
 ways been on one side ; victory not always turned 
 to the best account ; but, alas, it must be expected 
 that there will be many, and those not seldom the 
 flower of the host, wounded sorely, a few, it is to be 
 feared, slain in the combat. 
 
550 Memoir of the Rev. John Kehle. 
 
 I now give the letters which have occasioned these- 
 
 remarks : — 
 
 " Bournemouth, 
 '^Jan. 31, 1866. 
 " Dearest Coleridge, 
 
 " I wish you could have from me as long and heartjr 
 a letter as your too great kindness deserves. As it is, I 
 can but thank you, i, for your advice and information about 
 
 Mr. , to whom I will soon write accordingly ; 2. for the 
 
 very interesting report of dear John and his proceedings ; 
 which seem so amiable and dutiful that I cannot but think 
 he will have a blessing on his work, and perhaps with others, 
 like-minded, on his cause also ; such as may in good mea- 
 sure neutralize ihe harm you and I might expect from it. 
 For myself, I am a little sanguine about the Reform ; if if 
 leaves the Colleges alone, and if the present leaven of N". 90, 
 so marvellously reviving, go on and prosper. If the latter be- 
 not so, it matters little about other things. 
 
 " But my dearest wife, — your kind words go to my hearty 
 so certain am I that it is far other than you say. Where- 
 Heathcote got his information I cannot guess, but I have 
 heard more or less from friends far and near in the same 
 tone. She, dear soul, though there may be sometimes a. 
 slight rally for half a day, grows on the whole gradually 
 weaker; and now I fear her power of taking nourishment 
 is lessening. Her long faintings are very distressing. You 
 must not flatter me about that, or anytliing else. 
 
 " I suppose it is the same with many more, but I for 
 one am certain that whatever bows me down most, is- 
 best for me. 
 
 " Best love to you all, 
 
 " Your most affec'" J. K." 
 
 " Dear Bessie, our head nurse, is of the same opinion as. 
 
L etters from Kcblc. 5 5 f 
 
 I am, so must every one be that watches her; and the 
 Doctor's encouragement amounts to this, that the worst, 
 symptoms do not come on so fast as he expected." 
 
 " Bournemouth, 
 
 " 3''* Sunday in Lent, 
 
 " (March 4,) 1S66- 
 " Dearest Coleridge, 
 
 " I cannot write worthily in any sense to answer your 
 kind letters, but they always interest me, and so they would 
 my dear wife, if she were always able to attend to them, 
 which for a great part of her time, I grieve to say, she i.s- 
 not. We ought to be very thankful that she is so sweetly 
 and gently let down, at least, to all appearances, though ot 
 course we cannot tell how much she suffers ; and she is, I 
 fancy, very dextrous in concealing such things. However,-. 
 she has certainly better nights of late; and the dropsjv 
 though it does not diminish, does not increase so fast as it; 
 did ; moreover, though she likes nothing, she submits to- 
 a good deal of nourishment; so I do not know, (for I 
 never ask that question,) but I hardly feel as if she were 
 going quite immediately. Thank you for suggesting books,- 
 though it is little she can bear now, she gets sleepy so soon. 
 We read Mackenzie's Life long ago ; Robertson's I have not 
 met with, and I doubt whether I should, (or she would,) 
 like it ; ' honest doubts,' as one calls them, are not very 
 pleasant on a sick bed. For the same reason I don't care 
 to read Ecce Homo, but it will be a very agreeable disap- 
 pointment if the writer turns out a Christian at last ; and I 
 will pull off my hat to him, and beg his pardon. I hope- 
 you will read Miss Mackenzie's Life of Mrs. Robertson in 
 Zululand. She and her husband appear to me the Queen- 
 
552 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 and King of Missionaries, at least, among the second order, 
 
 for I don't talk of Bishops 
 
 "J. H. N. sent me his book ; it seems to me, logically, 
 a complete failure, though of course in parts extremely good 
 and beautiful. (I mean a failure as to the Doctrine of the 
 B. Virgin's ' supremacy ;') the only thing that cants me is 
 the fact about the Eastern Church, which one knew other- 
 wise. I am very well, thank you ; ashamed to be so well. 
 I have no nursing, my sister takes it off my hands ; I wish 
 she may stand it. With kind love to all, your most affec- 
 tionate J. K." 
 
 I have but one more letter to add, the last of the 
 long series : — 
 
 " Bournemouth, 
 "March 19, 1866. 
 " My dearest Coleridge, 
 
 " I am too long as usual, but you will understand and 
 excuse it. 
 
 "Since I wrote she has been gradually getting weaker, 
 suffering more and more from sickness, palpitation, and 
 sometimes acute pain in the heart; and now for several 
 days her pulse, and power to take nourishment, have given 
 way. The doctor was here four times yesterday, and we 
 watch her now not from day to day, but from hour to hour. 
 D. G. her sister keeps up pretty well, and as for myself, I 
 eat, drink, and sleep heartily ; so you need be in no care 
 about me, so far. I do not know well just now how to go 
 on writing about anything else, so I will just give you all our 
 dear love, and sign myself your most affectionate, J. K." 
 
 It may be supposed that I do not close vi^ithout 
 some emotion my extracts from a correspondence. 
 
Letters from Keble. 553 
 
 beginning in 181 1, and continued without interrup- 
 tion to the igth of March, 1866. Few things I am 
 more grateful for, (perhaps I may own I am a little 
 proud of it,) than my having preserved from the be- 
 ginning Keble's letters, and those of another dear 
 friend, Arnold. The letters, like their writers, differ 
 in many respects ; and I will not pronounce on their 
 interest as compositions ; neither of the two when 
 writing to me ever thought of composing what should 
 be read by others than myself; but the letters of 
 both are, as they themselves were, one in goodness 
 and honesty of heart, one in overflowing affectionate- 
 ness of feeling and expression. 
 
 During these last weeks Keble was, of course, in 
 correspondence with many persons, intimate friends 
 and anxious inquirers ; sometimes from Mrs. Keble's 
 inability to write, he answered letters addressed to 
 her. I have copies before me of three which he 
 wrote to Miss Mackenzie, the sister of the Bishop. 
 He was deeply interested in the Missionary work in 
 which her sister with her husband had been engaged ; 
 we have seen that he calls them the King and Queen 
 of Missionaries. One of these letters I will venture 
 to insert here, although I know I may be thought to 
 have printed too many of the same character; for 
 beside the circumstances under which it was written, 
 this seems to me to have a special beauty and force, 
 which make it wrong to omit it : — 
 
554 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 " BOURNEMOU'I'II, 
 
 Jari" 23, 1866. 
 " My dear kind Friend, 
 
 " Just one line to say how both our hearts, my dearest 
 wife's and my own, were smitten down this morning by the- 
 sad news from C. Yonge, of your sad and, to us, unexpected' 
 loss. I dread to think of the wound it must be to you r 
 only He who put into your heart such deep affections and' 
 sustains them there, has the power and the love also to- 
 mitigate the wounds, which His wise and good Providence^ 
 sees fit to make. 
 
 " You must think, dear Priend, of the mysterious moment 
 when He, who is Love, condescended to endure the bitter- 
 ness of His Mother's grief as an addition (so to speak) to 
 His Own; and thereby sanctified the agonies we have- 
 to bear in watching the sufferings of our beloved ones. 
 Like other pains they will be sweet, if we can be helped- 
 so to join them to His Cross. 
 
 " But how vain of me to say all this to one who has had" 
 your experience ! God grant that I may be sa5dng it not 
 in vain to myself! For indeed I have much need, and an^ 
 likely to have more. Dearest Charlotte continues in most 
 respects, much as when I wrote to you last ; the doctor 
 comes every day and pronounces the pulse much as it was, 
 and allows her to be brought for an hour or two into our 
 sitting-room. But I am sure there is a gradual decay of 
 strength ; one by one things become too hard for her, and 
 it is a greater effort for her to keep up ; yet she does keep 
 up in spirit most comfortably. Your kind heart would 
 rejoice if you could see what refi.-eshment she finds in 
 your most seasonable present of the sheets of Mrs. Robert- 
 son's ' Life j' she toolc to it the moment it came, and 
 
Letter from Keble. 555 
 
 ftom hour to hour, day after day, she enjoys it being read 
 to her. I never saw any book more successful apparently 
 in beguiling hour after hour of weariness and breathlessness. 
 I now really hope, that both it and the ' Net' will be a great 
 success. 
 
 "God comfort and reward you for all your trials and 
 all your love. 
 
 " Ever yours very aifectionately, 
 " J. KEBLE." 
 
 It will be seen how down to the very last of these 
 letters from .Bournemouth all Keble's thoughts were 
 for his dear wife, and how unconscious he seems to 
 have been of any falling off in his own health. Mr. 
 Moor informs us, that when he came there, he had, 
 as was his custom, proffered to Mr. Bennett assist- 
 ance, if needed ; which he v/ith a wise consideration 
 declined to accept from him. But he was. regular, 
 until his very last illness, in his attendance on the 
 daily services in the church. His favourite help in 
 his private prayer was the Paradisus Anhncs, and 
 he had so familiarized himself to it, that he not 
 uncommonly prayed in Latin. On Sundays and 
 Thursdays, when he regularly attended the mid-day 
 Communion, it was in his hand all the morning be- 
 fore he went to church. On those mornings it was 
 with difficulty he could be persuaded to take any- 
 breakfast ; for many years it had been his custom, 
 whenever he was to ■ celebrate in the course of the 
 day, to eat nothing before. At church he usually 
 
5 s6 Memoir of the Rev. John Kehle. 
 
 sat in one place, and the window over that place 
 has now been filled with stained glass out of respect 
 for his memory. He was, I may mention here, a 
 strong advocate for the system of free and unap- 
 propriated seats, which he urged strongly on Mr. 
 Bennett. It may be that circumstances prevented 
 its adoption at Bournemouth. He therefore took 
 a seat, but never used it, and told the clerk to use 
 it as free. It is right to add that the seats in Hurs- 
 ley Church were still in his time appropriated, which 
 he desired much to change. It seems to me that 
 a wide distinction in principle exists between pay- 
 ment and "simple appropriation, and that if this last 
 be fairly extended to the poor as well as the rich, 
 with a limitation to secure punctuality in attendance, 
 there is much to be said for it. Payment has been, 
 is, and ever will be, simply mischievous. He read a 
 good deal ; for himself especially St Chrysostom on 
 St. John, (for he had not even now abandoned the 
 thought of his promised Commentaiy). He read 
 to Mrs. Keble the Services daily ; and from time to 
 time, frequently it would seem, he administered to 
 her the Holy Communion. In the evenings the little 
 party would meet in her bedroom, (which, indeed, 
 was his also for a large part of the illness,) and the 
 lessons were read usually by Mr. James Young, of 
 whom I have spoken before. Sometimes he would 
 read to himself the first LessonS in the original. 
 No one can doubt that he prayed much for her ; 
 
Beginning of L ast Illness. 557 
 
 more than was commonly observed ; he had a life- 
 long faith in the efficacy of intercessory prayer, but 
 he shrunk from observation when he prayed alone ; 
 more than once, on occasions of special distress, or in- 
 terest, he was observed kneeling in the act of prayer 
 behind a door, where it was not likely he should 
 be seen. 
 
 With all his sorrow, and his own weakness, which 
 no doubt was great, he still bore up ; and down to 
 little more than a week before his death he took 
 his walks, seemed refreshed by them, and retained 
 his old interest in the objects of nature around him ; 
 especially, it was noted by his young and loving 
 companion, the ever-varying sea, the ships, the cliffs, 
 the clouds, the sky. 
 
 Down to this time, so far as I can perceive, no 
 new or special anxiety was felt for his own health. 
 Even the sufferer, about whom all were anxious, 
 seemed to have but one real trouble, how he would 
 bear her departure, how he would be taken care of 
 after she was gone. She told her maid one day, 
 that she should not mind dying, if it were not for 
 him ; that she was much afraid for him, he seemed 
 to bear up too well. She was told in answer, that 
 his heart had seemed as if it would burst but a night 
 or two before. He had had through life one re- 
 markable blessing, that no trouble by day affected 
 his sleep ; he mentioned this once to a friend, and 
 in his usual way of self-disparagement, attributed it 
 
55^ Memoir of tJte Rev. John Kehle. 
 
 to want of feeling. She put the truer and better 
 construction on it ; she would often say, " He lays 
 aside his anxieties with his prayers ; he does what 
 he can, the issue is with God, with Whom he is con- 
 tent to leave it ; therefore he is still, and sleeps like 
 a child." 
 
 But he was " drawing daily nearer home," and his 
 Master now saw fit to call His servant to Himself. 
 The illness, under which he sunk, lasted just a week, 
 and seemed to be occasioned at first by his rising on 
 the 22nd of March as early as six o'clock by mis- 
 take, by his then using a cold instead of warm bath, 
 by his praying for some time by his wife's bed-side, 
 and then standing to read the Lessons to her, all 
 without any food ; in the act of reading he is said 
 to have fainted ; whether that was paralytic, I . do 
 not know, but he was never able to use his lower 
 limbs again. Once when he had been helped into 
 Mrs. Keble's room, he managed to stand by himself, 
 to cheer her ; and drew himself up, a gesture his 
 friends will well remember as familiar with him, and 
 playfully said, " Richard's himself again." 
 
 The severity of the symptoms, however, increased. 
 In about two days after, he was unwillingly wheeled 
 out of her room ; and they who for so many years 
 had had but one heart, and one mind, parted for 
 life, with one silent look at each other. I do not 
 pursue the details of the remaining two or three 
 days ; he was sometimes wandering, sometimes con- 
 
His Death. 559 
 
 ■scious, sometimes clear-minded ; whether wandering-, 
 -or clear-minded, he was constantly intent on holy 
 thijigs, or in actual prayer ; he uttered fragments, 
 ■or ejaculations in the former case, which shewed the 
 habitual prayerfulness of his heart ; he repeated, 
 -or he composed, as it seemed, prayers ; the Lord's 
 Prayer he uttered most commonly. 
 
 He fell asleep on the 29th of March, about one in 
 the morning. 
 
 I have been treated with so much kindness and 
 ■confidence by those who were on the spot, or had 
 full means of knowing- with certainty everything that 
 passed, that I could have multiplied these notices of 
 :my dear friend's last illness, and dying hours ; but 
 the sick room, and the chamber of death, ai-e sacred ; 
 -and my only fear is, that I may have trespassed 
 already on their sanctity. This I felt, that I was in 
 no danger of revealing anything that was unworthy 
 of him. One anecdote I must add, for it is the 
 highest testimonial direct and indirect from the best 
 of witnesses, his dying wife. 
 
 The mournful family repaired from his death-bed 
 to her room, and knelt round her bed, and prayed ; 
 she besought them to return thanks for her to God, 
 that he had been taken first, that she, not he, had to 
 ■bear the trial of surviving-; but she expressed a. 
 liope that she migh;t be released so soon as to ad- 
 anit of both being buried at the same time in one 
 grave. 
 
560 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 Then she requested her maid to fetch her " Chris- 
 tian Year," and turning to the two last stanzas of the 
 verses on Good Friday, "I know," said she, "these 
 were in his dying thoughts :" — 
 
 " Lord of my heart, by Thy last cry, 
 
 Let not Thy blood on earth be spent — 
 Lo, at Thy feet I fainting lie, 
 
 Mine eyes upon Thy wounds are bent, 
 Upon Thy streaming wounds my weary eyes 
 Wait like the parched earth on April skies. 
 
 " Wash me, and dry these bitter tears, 
 
 O let my heart no further roam, 
 'Tis Thine by vows, and hopes, and fears. 
 
 Long since — O call Thy wanderer home ; 
 To that dear home, safe in Thy wounded side, 
 Where only broken hearts their sin and shame 
 
 may hide.'' 
 
 There is no exaggeration in saying that the heart 
 of England -vt^as deeply stirred by the news of his 
 death. There was a grief as real and as widely 
 spread through different classes of society, and I 
 may say with confidence, through all denominations 
 of Christians, as any death has occasioned in my 
 recollection. We felt that we had lost a true Saint, 
 a true Poet ; a Saint whose holiness and purity no 
 verse he ever composed could blemish ; a Poet, whose 
 genius was elevated and sanctified by the perpetual 
 heavenward inspiration under which he wrote. We 
 
Memorial to Kehle. 561 
 
 had lost a guide, a counsellor, a friend, so humble, 
 so loving, so tender, that no one, not the very school- 
 boy in his little difficulties, nor even the young 
 vsroman in the troubles of her heart, (I speak from 
 knowledge,) shrunk, from addressing him for help, 
 or advice. 
 
 He was buried on the 6th of April, 1866, in his 
 own churchyard, close to the grave of Elizabeth 
 Keble, as that was near to the grave where the re- 
 mains of my little God-child, Godfrey Heathcote, 
 whom he had baptized, and was so tenderly in- 
 terested in, are laid. As might be expected, the 
 high and low, the ricji and poor, the old and young, 
 crowded to the funeral; it was no common cere- 
 monial ; Mr. Moor speaks of the day truly as never 
 to be forgotten by those who were present. 
 
 As yet no cross or monument has been erected at 
 his grave ; (he himself had placed a stone cross, mo- 
 delled from a beautiful Irish one, at the grave of 
 his sister). But in the floor of the chancel, on the 
 spot where his body rested during the service, the 
 parishioners have placed a very beautiful brass cross 
 designed by Mr. Butterfield, which records his name, 
 the period of his incumbency, the day when he fell 
 asleep in the Lord, and his age, seventy-four years. 
 This cross is let into a stone, round the edge of 
 which on a strip of brass is inscribed a memo- 
 rable portion of our Litany, which he so loved : 
 
 O o 
 
562 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 ■" BY THINE AGONY AND BLOODY SWEAT ; BY THY 
 -CROSS AND PASSION ; BY THY PRECIOUS DEATH 
 AND BURIAL ; BY THY GLORIOUS RESURRECTION 
 AND ASCENSION ; AND BY THE COMING OF THE 
 I-IOLY GHOST, GOOD LORD, DELIVER US." 
 
 It will be to be regretted, if the graves of Keble 
 -and his loving wife should be longer left, I will not 
 say neglected, (at present there is no reason to fear 
 that,) but without some permanent mark and pro- 
 "tection. There may be differences of opinion how 
 that may best be effected ; but it is dangerous to 
 rely too much on a continuance of the same warmth 
 -of pious feeling with which these graves are now re- 
 ;garded ; and the green-sod grave, which is so pleasing 
 to the eye and to the imagination, with its flowers re- 
 mewed from time to time by pious hands, is yet from 
 its very nature mouldering and perishable. Accord- 
 ing to the proverb, what is everybody's business is 
 aio one's ; and after the lapse of a few years, the 
 pilgrim who comes to bend over the grave, may find 
 it difficult, if not impossible, to distinguish it from its 
 ^neighbours. On the other hand, I agree that there is 
 ■something almost repulsive to the feelings with which 
 Ave regard the resting-place of such remains as these, 
 in pressing them down with a heavy mass of stone. 
 Is it impossible to devise something which may 
 permanently mark the spot, and fence it from viola- 
 tion, and yet leave the grave to be seen by tliose 
 
Memorial to Keble. 563 
 
 Avho visit it, and open to be piously decked from 
 -time to time with the flowers, and specially the wild 
 flowers, of the season. 
 
 I am not competent to suggest how this may 
 liest be done, but let us not lay ourselves open to 
 the imputation of . negligent delay now, nor trust 
 too much to the continuing piety of our posterity. 
 Who, (says the Lover at the Grave of his Mistress, 
 an terms not inappropriate to Keble' s) : — 
 
 " Who, when I am turn'd to clay, 
 Shall duly to her grave repair. 
 And pluck the ragged moss away 
 
 And weeds that have ' no business there ?' 
 
 " And who with pious hands shall bring 
 
 The flowers she cherish'd, snowdrops cold, 
 And violets that unheeded spring. 
 To scatter o'er her hallow'd mould?" 
 
 It will not be necessary, I think, for me to enlarge 
 in any detail on Keble's character ; however imper- 
 fectly I have constructed this narrative, a tolerably 
 accurate notion of that will have been collected from 
 the numerous letters I have printed. These letters 
 do not give, indeed, a full measure of his ability, or 
 of his acquirements ; he wrote them rapidly, often 
 when over-fatigued, on the spur of the moment, as 
 the occasion called for them, with no care for the 
 Kvriting, no notion of their being preserved ; and 
 
564 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 yet I must not shrink from saying that I think they 
 are of high value merely as epistolary compositions ; 
 but at all events, they paint him truly as he was. 
 
 A biographer is usually expected to try to convey 
 some impression of the person and countenance of 
 his subject ; and this is often a most difficult part 
 of his office. It will have been seen that a young lady, 
 to whom I am very much obliged, writes of him in 
 Scotland as " a plain man ;" if she intended that he 
 was ugly, or even commonplace, I should venture 
 to difi^r from her entirely ; if she intended that his 
 face was one easily understood, I should also dis- 
 agree. I look on the opinion of the practised portrait 
 painter as of the highest authority on such a sub- 
 ject ; it is his business to study the countenance, 
 and it is part of his art to render its true character. 
 When Mr. Richmond drew the portrait of him in 
 the prime of his manhood, which was afterwards en- 
 graved by Mr. S. Cousins, he told me that out of so 
 many as he had drawn, he never found one so diffi- 
 cult to comprehend. Curiously enough, when Mr. 
 Cousins had studied the successful picture, and had 
 brought his engraving to an unsuccessful first proof, 
 he told me he had never met with a more unintel- 
 ligible portrait, and begged to see the original. Ke- 
 ble and he accordingly breakfasted with me, and 
 afterwards he also gave him a sitting ; " Now," said 
 he, " I understand the picture," and he certainly suc- 
 ceeded admirably in his rendering of it. Mr. Rich- 
 
Kehle's Portrait. 565 
 
 mond, it is well known, drew Keble's head again in 
 old age, and he pronounced it then most beautiful, 
 and beautiful is the drawing, and, though I venture 
 to think a little wanting in strength, also true on the 
 whole. For that is not the true portrait which gives 
 the face as it strikes careless and commonplace be- 
 holders, but that which gives to congenial observers 
 in the most agreeable way, I do not say an excep- 
 tional gleam of light or beauty, but the look that 
 tells most vividly the characteristic workings of the 
 mind and heart in their best moments. 
 
 To me both the portraits are full of deep interest, 
 the' earlier and the later both — each brings him back 
 to me as he was ; in the earlier, he has some of the 
 merry defiance he could assume in argument ; in 
 the latter, I see the sad tenderness of his advanced 
 years. Keble had not regular features ; he could 
 not be called a handsome man, but he was one to 
 be noticed anywhere, and remembered long; his 
 forehead and hair beautiful in all ages ; his eyes, 
 full of play, intelligence, and emotion, followed you 
 while you spoke ; and they lighted up, especially 
 with pleasure, or indignation, as it might be, when 
 he answered you. The most pleasing photograph is 
 one in which he is standing by Mrs. Keble's side ; 
 she is sitting with a book in her hand. The later 
 photographs are to me very unpleasant. I will at- 
 tempt no more particular description, for I feel how 
 little definite I can convey in writing. 
 
566 ' Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 But there is a much more important and effectual' 
 portrait painting than such as I can give of the 
 countenance, and before I lay down my pen, I must 
 yet crave the indulgence of my readers to an ac- 
 count, as short as I can make it, of him in his minis- 
 trations as a Parish Priest. I speak thus guardedly,, 
 for I have been helped in this matter so copiously^ 
 and authentically, that it is difficult to be very- 
 short. 
 
 The characteristic of his ministrations in church, 
 or elsewhere, was, as might have been expected,, 
 that which was the animating and pervading spirit 
 of all his life, a perfectly simple and sincere sense or 
 his own unworthiness, combined with a hearty con- 
 viction that every talent he had received, all his- 
 strength, all his time, all his energies, were con- 
 secrated to God's service ; and that service so high 
 and holy, that it was never to be thought of evea 
 but with the most reverential feeling of which he 
 was capable. This last was never more marked, 
 than when he was engaged in the administration 
 of the Sacraments. He was not what is commonly 
 called an eloquent reader or preacher ; his voice was 
 not powerful, nor his ear perfect for harmony of 
 sound ; nor had he in the popular sense great gifts 
 of delivery ; but in spite of all this, you could not 
 but be impressed deeply both by his reading and 
 his preaching. When he read, you saw that he felt,, 
 and he made you feel, that he was the ordained 
 
Character and Habits as Parish Priest. 567 
 
 servant of God ; delivering His words, or leading^ 
 you, but as one of like infirmities and sins with 
 your own, in your prayers. When he preached, it 
 was with an affectionate almost plaintive earnest- 
 ness, which was very moving. His sermons were 
 at all times full of that scriptural knowledge which, 
 was a remarkable quality in him as a divine. Like: 
 one of the old Fathers, he seemed to have caught, 
 by continual and devout study, somewhat of the: 
 idiom and manner of Scripture. In passing, let me 
 press on my readers to profit by the sermons now 
 in course of publication by his brother. Several of 
 them were preached almost immediately after his- 
 Ordination, when he was not much over twenty- 
 three. I think they will be found remarkable, among: 
 other things, for their soundness and moderation, as- 
 well as for more popular qualities. 
 
 His reverential feelings manifested themselves not 
 merely in church, but in many almost involuntary 
 habits of voice or gesture, in his family prayers, or 
 in conversation, or reading. His hand would in 
 prayer be raised so as to overshadow his eyes, or- 
 his voice would sink. Once a friend was about to- 
 read to him the daily prayers used by a poor Italian 
 woman ; he raised his hand to his forehead in the- 
 way I speak of, caught a low chair, and knelt on it,, 
 as if that were the only proper position for him while: 
 the prayers were read. 
 
 It was but a part of this disposition which ap- 
 
S68 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 peared on many occasions in regard to his deceased 
 father ; he clung to his old ways ; among other things, 
 he always used Bishop Wilson's daily prayers ; in 
 the first instance, I believe, because he had used 
 them ; and when he meant to accord strongly with 
 some statement of doctrine, he would say, " That 
 seems to me just what my father taught me." Any 
 one who had known his father, or mother, or his 
 sister Sarah, who had died young, was always a wel- 
 come visitor at the vicarage. 
 
 He spent a considerable portion of his time in 
 the school. I will now give Mr. Young's account 
 in his own words,. for I cannot mend them : — 
 
 " He was most scrupulous in going to the Sunday School 
 from 9.15 to 10.30, in the morning, and from 2 to 3 in the 
 afternoon. I think it might be truly said, that unless he 
 was hindered by illness, (which happily occurred very rarely,) 
 or by some special call of parochial duty, he never missed 
 during the 30 years he was at Hursley. Besides this, it 
 was his habit for several years to go to the Boys' School 
 every morning soon after 9, and teach the first class until 
 service time at 10, taking them through one part of the 
 Bible after another. On Friday there was an examination 
 in writing in the work which had been done during the 
 week. This he did, whoever might be staying with him, 
 and whatever letters, interesting or perplexing, he might 
 have received. School time often came on him before he 
 was ready, but as soon as he became aware that the clock 
 had struck, away he went. Many of his friends must re- 
 member to have seen him hurrying across the Lawn, and 
 
Character and Habits as Parish Priest. 569 
 
 down the Long Walk which led to the School, when he 
 fancied that he was late. But he was never in a hurry in 
 his teaching ; he was always patient, both with his Scholars, 
 and with his subject ; dealing with it very simply and mi- 
 nutely, yet very deeply and practically. He invariably 
 stood when he was teaching, and that not so much be- 
 cause he thought it gave him more command over the 
 boys' attention, but as it would seem because he fancied it 
 helped to keep him up to the mark, and hindered him from 
 becoming listless. Indeed, in everything he took in hand, 
 if I may venture to say it, he always did his best. He 
 never spared himself any labour of body or mind; but 
 whatever he undertook, a small matter or a great, he did 
 it with all his might, often with much misgiving and com- 
 plaint, but always with an honest patient endeavour to give 
 his whole mind to it." 
 
 In connection w^ith this subject I will insert here 
 an extract from a letter, in which Archdeacon Allen 
 gives me some account of an examination by him- 
 self of Keble's school. It occurred a good many- 
 years ago, when he was an Inspector of School's, 
 and it was made at the request of the Bishop : — 
 
 " Sir W. Heathcote was present. Mr. Keble watched the 
 examination closely, but did not, so far as I recollect, make 
 a single observation. The children, as I thought, passed 
 an excellent examination, but I did not quite feel at home 
 with them. Perhaps I felt awed by Mr. Keble's silent 
 presence. The examination lasted from two till after five. 
 It was a beautiful summer evening, and Mr. Keble then 
 proposed to walk to a part of the parish, where, if I re- 
 
570 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 collect right, lie said, the green sand joined the chalk. 
 We mounted a hill without a word. At last Mr. Keble- 
 broke silence and said, ' I find that you teach children on 
 a different principle from what I do.' ' Oh,' I said, ' I hope- 
 not, please explain ; I am sure I must be wrong, and I -wish 
 to mend.' ' No, I am not sure that you are -wrong ; but 
 you teach them analytically, and I teach them syntheti- 
 cally.' I said, ^Your words were perplexing to me, and 
 now I am in still greater perplexity ; what can you mean ?* 
 ' For example, you asked them what parable teaches us to 
 persevere in prayer under every seeming discouragement j. 
 I should have read with them St. Luke xviii. i — 7, and 
 then asked them what lesson do you learn from this?" 
 
 I think we must all agree that Keble's mode was- 
 the most helpful to children ; and this -was the spirit 
 of his ordinary dealing -with them. 
 
 He was al-ways anxious to win their love ; and his 
 simplicity and playfulness, as well as his special fond- 
 ness for the young, made this easy for him ; but he 
 was not afraid of sharp rebuke, or discipline, where 
 he thought the circumstances made them proper. 
 The principle which directed his general ministra- 
 tions, prevailed also in this particular : — 
 
 " He never forgot," I am using Mr. Young's words, " that 
 he was a Steward intrusted with the souls of men whom he 
 had to deal with for their good, tenderly, or severely, as- 
 there might be occasion, and with the holy things of God,. 
 which he was to guard from dishonour." 
 
 Lying before me is a letter dated September 9, 
 
Kcble's Catechizing in Church. 57 1 
 
 1839, to Mr. Wilson, in which, after much about" 
 a new and higher school in contemplation, he writes 
 thus characteristically about the parish school : — 
 
 " I am more in doubt on that score about the other 
 School, the people here are so utterly averse to discipline. 
 Just think of me last Sunday in humble imitation of you, 
 inflicting a little wholesome Stick Liquorice on Ja. B. and 
 Dick H. ; and then on my desiring old R. to repeat the 
 dose on some small culprits yesterday, fancy his flatly re- 
 fusing, in presence of the whole school, and saying he 
 might be turned off, but he would not do any such thing ;. 
 although those before punished had shewn themselves, aS: 
 I told him they would, specially attached to me in conse- 
 quence. Of course I had nothing to do but to send away 
 the boys and expostulate a little quietly with him ; but he 
 was resolved, after his manner, having no doubt been in- 
 structed behind the curtain-by Mrs. R. So I must get him 
 to resign, and make an amicable retreat, for I shall not at 
 all like to part with him otherwise than friends." 
 
 I do not know what became of Dick H., but 
 Ja. B. '^ sometime after was recommended by Keble 
 to a situation, as the best boy in his parish ; and he 
 has remained ever since in the same employ, mam- 
 
 » I am told that I have mistaken between two brothers, and that the- 
 recommendation and character which I have here given to Ja. B. in 
 truth belong to Edwin B. One ought to do justice even in what may 
 seem a, slight matter; and I may add from excellent authority that 
 both Edwin and James have continued to do credit to their teaching, 
 and still manifest on all occasions their love and reverence for their 
 teacher. 
 
5 ^2 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 taining the highest character, and bearing the best 
 testimony to this wholesome castigation. 
 
 Keble's mode of catechizing was, I believe, 'not a 
 usual one. He did not confine himself to the Church 
 Catechism. He thought any opportunity of display 
 by the children was much to be avoided ; he therefore 
 prepared them carefully beforehand in the questions 
 he meant to ask ; if one could not answer a ques- 
 tion, he did not put it to another, but helped the 
 one who failed ; he always repeated the answers 
 aloud, that the parents might follow the subject in- 
 telligently. He usually took a short portion, whether 
 of the Catechism or Scripture ; and when the cate- 
 chizing ended, lectured from the pulpit on what had 
 been the subject of his questioning. He generally 
 took boys and girls on alternate Sundays. 
 
 Mr. Young has been so kind as to furnish me with 
 the heads of one or two specimens ; it is worth while 
 to give one. He was catechizing girls on Easter 
 Monday, and his object was to shew how little girls 
 might take pattern from St. Mary Magdalene : — 
 
 "He first drew from them with some minuteness the 
 several particulars of her history in connection with the 
 Hesurrection, and then dwelt on the lessons they should 
 derive from it, e.g. that they should prepare over-night for 
 the work of the next day; that diey should rise early j that 
 in their difficulties they should go to those who were set 
 over them ; that they should stay by their Lord at all times, 
 or as near Him as possible ; if they were unhappy, they 
 
Dealing with the Sick and Distressed. 573 
 
 should still look after Him, then they would find that He 
 -would shew Himself to them in ways they least thought of; 
 as He was with St. Mary Magdalene as a gardener; only 
 they would i;ot he allowed<to touch Him all at once. He 
 would train thoni gradually, and draw them up to Himself; 
 and they must not think it hard, for it was His way with 
 His own Apostles." 
 
 This was followed the next day by catechizing- 
 the boys on the visit of St. Peter and St. John to 
 the Sepulchre, dealt with in the same way. It may 
 well be understood how practically and how gene- 
 rally useful such a system might be in hands like 
 Keble's. He made a point at all times of the chil- 
 dren having their Bibles in church, and following the 
 Lessons ; and for some years it was his daily custom 
 to call up some of them after the service, and ques- 
 tion them for a few minutes in the two chapters 
 which had been read. No wonder the Hursley chil- 
 dren had more than the usual knowledge of the 
 Scriptures. 
 
 I have already in a former chapter spoken of him 
 in regard to Confirmation ; after it, he was always 
 anxious that the young people should not lose sight 
 of him, as he never did of them. His letters when 
 from home afe full of enquiries about doubtful young 
 men, or women ; and of messages, anxious, yet very 
 considerate : — 
 
 " Why was he perfidious with me in not coming to H. C, 
 or, at least, not coming to me to say why he kept away ? If 
 
574 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 jou think it more likely to answer, you need only say that 
 I depend on having a call from him as soon as ever I get 
 home." 
 
 With regard to the visitation of the sick and poor, 
 -and those who were in any trouble, his principle and 
 the spirit of his practice may be summed up with 
 exact truth in the words of St. Paul, " Ourselves 
 your servants for Jesus' sake." He used habitually 
 to speak of it as waiting on them, and, as I have 
 said before, you could not be any time in the Vicar- 
 age as a guest without becoming aware how, without 
 the least ostentation, this principle was acted on as 
 -a matter of course ; equally, I must add, by husband 
 and wife. In his practice as regarded the distribution 
 of relief, and all perhaps that may be separated from 
 -teaching and direct ministering to spiritual wants, 
 he was very glad to commit much to his wife and 
 •other assistants ; in them he placed the most gene- 
 rous confidence, and gave them a wide discretion. 
 This arose in part from his self-distrust ; when con- 
 sulted by them, he would say, " You will do it better 
 than I can direct ;" or, " I am sure to say the wrong 
 thing;" but then they made the fullest communica- 
 tions to him ; and his knowledge of persons and cir- 
 cumstances was remarkable. One lady, (and at the 
 expense of giving her perhaps a moment's pain, I am 
 bound in justice to mention her name. Miss Baker,) 
 with many other important calls on her time, yet 
 
Dealing with the Sick and Distressed. 575 
 
 •worked under him in this way for seventeen years ; 
 he would suggest to her cases, but he left her to 
 work under the most general instructions ; sugges- 
 tions they might rather be called ; she reported to 
 him what she did, and he listened with the deepest 
 interest, sometimes with tears in his eyes. When he 
 was absent, she wrote to him ; and if she were ab- 
 sent, he communicated with her on the subject of 
 the poor : — 
 
 " Many thanks," writes he on one occasion from Pen- 
 zance, " for your account of the people. Poor dear W. H. 
 I was sorry to lose him out of the place, and I feel this more 
 of a loss : he is one of those who have twined themselves 
 round one's Hursle/s memories. I am glad his wife did 
 a good part by him at last. I am glad also about J. S., in 
 whom I have always thought there was much good. My 
 heart aches a little about the poor S — -'s, especially since I 
 feel that I have neglected them. It is also but one instance 
 •out of many. Our kind Christmas love to you, all and each, 
 from top to toe.'' 
 
 Writing to her when he was at home, and she ab- 
 -sent, he says : — 
 
 " We have had two deaths since I saw you. T. G., Mrs, 
 F.'s servant, about the most exemplary young man in the 
 place, was cut off last Sunday by something like diptheria, 
 -after two days' illness ; and poor dear W. B. died the day 
 before yesterday, and is to be buried on Sunday. It is very 
 pleasant to see his family, wife and all the sons and daugh- 
 ters, in what a Christian way they have waited on and spokea 
 -of him all along, and I am mucli comforted about him." 
 
576 Memoir of the Rev. jfohn Keble. 
 
 These extracts, taken by themselves, may be said 
 to shew nothing remarkable, but it is to be remem- 
 bered they are but specimens of what was his or- 
 dinary course. And it continued to the end ; 
 in the last month of his life, when he might have 
 seemed borne down by incessant care for his suf- 
 fering wife, and his own unheeded increase of dis- 
 orderment, Miss Baker visited Bournemouth ; he saw 
 her every day during her stay, talked over individual 
 cases with her, and grudged no time so spent. 
 
 Working by others, however, did not prevent him 
 from occupying himself much in personal visitation ; 
 in this he was unwearied, in all weathers, at all hours ; 
 and sometimes to the injury of his own health. His 
 was truly a ministry of consolation, and of cheer- 
 ing ; he had consideration for all the special cir- 
 cumstances of each person under his charge. There 
 was, for example, a poor cripple, deaf and dumb, 
 whom he constantly found time to visit, because the 
 man thought he could understand the motion of his 
 lips ; and he would hold conversations with him be- 
 sides, by writing on a slate ; then to amuse him in 
 his solitary life, he would set him sums on the slate 
 when he went away, and look them over at his next 
 visit, and correct them. 
 
 He " made friends," as one may say, with the in- 
 mates of the Workhouse, especially the old men, and 
 was frequent in his visits there. He got them to the 
 Daily Services, and, seating them on the front benches. 
 
Dealing with the Sick and Distressed. 577 
 
 addressed himself specially to them, as he read the 
 second Lesson, reading slowly, and with pauses, al- 
 most as if he were alone with them, and were speak- 
 ing to them. He was rewarded not seldom by 
 finding how much they learned of the Gospels in 
 this way. 
 
 Indeed his manner of reading the Scriptures was 
 remarkable : so simple, that your first impression of 
 it was that it was the reading of a very intelligent 
 and reverent child, yet so good, that he made you 
 understand them more, I think, than any one else. 
 At the same time he conveyed to you in some mea- 
 sure his own feeling of reverence. He always paused 
 before he began, and would often raise his hand to 
 his forehead in the manner I have described before ; 
 and so again at the close, he paused before he said, 
 " Here endeth," &c. 
 
 He had made a little service by way of help 
 and suggestion to himself, for the visitation of the 
 sick : — 
 
 " He commonly began," here again I use Mr. Young's 
 own words, " with the first Prayer for Good Friday, ' this 
 Thy servant' being substituted for 'this Thy family/ then 
 there would be always some kind of Confession, very 
 frequently the 5 1^' Psalm, (indeed I believe he very seldom, 
 if ever, said prayers with any sick person without intro- 
 ducing some verses at least of that Psalm) ; then came the 
 prayers in the Visitation Service, and often Collects, special 
 petitions being introduced here and there to suit the par^ 
 
 Pp 
 
578 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 ticular case, sometimes in his own words, sometimes in the 
 ■words of the Psalms, or of the Prayer-book. When death 
 was imminent, over and above the Commendatory Prayer, 
 1 have known him repeat at intervals verses or passages of 
 Scripture, interspersed with short suffrages and ejaculations, 
 extending over a considerable space of time. 
 
 " In cases of prolonged sickness he tried to pay his visit 
 on particular days, that it might be expected and prepared 
 for; and if the sick person were near at hand, he would 
 visit as nearly as possible at the same hour every day, his 
 wish being in this as in every thing else, to adapt himself to 
 what he thought would be most acceptable to those for 
 whom he ministered. One case I specially remember of an 
 old woman, whom he went to visit in this way every evening 
 regularly, just before she settled for the night." 
 
 The Daily Services he prized much for others ; for 
 liimself they were refreshment and delight, never 
 palling ; he never failed to attend when at home un- 
 less absolutely prevented, and if he could only be 
 -at part of the service he went to that. 
 
 His population was scattered over a considerable 
 area, and after Morning Service he would commonly 
 arrange with his curates what cases each were to 
 visit in the course of the day ; not that he entirely 
 gave up any districts to them ; for he made a point, 
 so long as he was able, of visiting each himself in 
 (the course of every week, walking while he was 
 -strong enough, and latterly driving. 
 
 In all these ministrations great simplicity and 
 jpaternal loving -kindness were the characteristics^ 
 
Character and Habits as Parish Priest. 579 
 
 ■especially in the administration of the Holy Eucha- 
 rist to the sick ; he would shake hands with all 
 present, and if any neighbours attended, he always 
 i;hanked them for so doing : — 
 
 " The lack of a regular system of discipline he tried to 
 supply in such ways as he could, making a point of finding 
 some opportunity of reproving notorious offenders, and 
 setting some mark upon them in the hope (to use his own 
 frequent quotation) 'that by making their faces ashamed, 
 they might be led to seek the Lord.' On some occasions, 
 in the case of disgraceful marriages, he has substituted for 
 the exhortation or sermon in the Marriage Service a short 
 address, in which he remonstrated earnestly and plainly 
 with the young people. Little -were they whom he then, 
 or at other times reproved, aware of the intense anxiety 
 -with which he watched their look and bearing under re- 
 proof," 
 
 I am afraid I have been long on this part of my 
 subject, but if my readers could see the interesting 
 store which lies before me, and from which perhaps 
 I have not made the best selection after all, they 
 would, I believe, forgive me. But I must not any 
 longer abuse their indulgence, and enough has been 
 done I trust upon the whole, to satisfy them that if 
 Keble was a scholar, a divine, a remarkably gifted 
 poet, if he were exemplary as a friend, a brother, son, 
 and husband, so he was admirable in the discharge 
 of his duties as a parish priest. These last, without 
 unwisely weighing one obligation against another. 
 
580 Memoir of the Rev. John Kehle. 
 
 he did esteem most pressing ; he thought his calling' 
 beyond all others holy, his mission in our Church 
 from supreme authority, his task such as he never 
 could believe he performed, or could perform, ex- 
 cept imperfectly and unworthily. But as he adored 
 the greatness and majesty, so he lovingly trusted 
 in the mercy of his Master, Redeemer, and Com- 
 forter. 
 
 What I could do in writing the story of this dear 
 friend I have now done, and I can truly say that 
 the severest judgment which can be passed on my 
 workmanship will hardly be more severe than I am 
 conscious of its deserving. But I will say no more of 
 this. I must not finally lay down my pen before 
 I have reverted to the sick room at Bournemouth. 
 There, for about six weeks, to the surprise of all, 
 Mrs. Keble still lingered, waiting in suffering and 
 great weakness, yet without impatience, the sum- 
 mons which she earnestly desired. It was vouch- 
 safed to her on the nth of May, and on the i8th 
 she was laid by her husband's side ; a double grave 
 had been prepared in the first instance. The order 
 of her funeral was arranged according to that of his, 
 except that her own female friends bore her pall. 
 
 At the time of her death I inserted a short notice 
 of her in the " Guardian ;" no one I believe questioned 
 that what I said of her was true ; but more than one 
 
Character of Mrs. Kehle. 581 
 
 well-qualified judge pronounced it insufficient, and 
 as doing her scant justice on the whole. Two of 
 them were ladies, who spoke upon a knowledge of 
 her much more intimate than my own ; they had 
 known her in the parish, in society, in her own house, 
 in health, such as she was ever granted, and in sick- 
 ness they were certainly right. I unavoidably wrote 
 in haste, and did not recall to my mind all that even 
 I myself had been witness to. 
 
 She was indeed, as I then said, a genuinely kind, 
 humble-hearted, affectionate, and pious woman ; and 
 she adapted herself with zeal to the special calls 
 made on her as Keble's wife : with him she identified 
 herself as much as she could ; his friends were her 
 friends ; in his duties she took her proper part, cheer- 
 fully making exertions that were almost beyond her 
 strength ; his principles she took for her own ; and 
 with the truest sense of what an interval existed be- 
 tween him and herself, she yet laboured in all things 
 to be his helpmate. 
 
 The schools, the poor, the sick of Hursley, must 
 long remember her with affectionate gratitude; the 
 neighbours, the friends, the surviving relatives of 
 both must long cherish the memory of her, who con- 
 tributed with such grace and lively cheerfulness to 
 adorn and render completely delightful the Vicarage 
 of Hursley ; and so filled up the measure of the hap- 
 piness of John Keble's life. 
 
 All this is true ; but it fails to convey an adequate 
 
582 Memoir of the Rev. John Keble. 
 
 notion with how sound an intellect and firm pur- 
 pose she contributed not seldom to support her hus- 
 band in doubts and difficulties ; and how she cheered 
 and gave him confidence when he too much dis- 
 trusted himself, or looked despondingly on efforts he 
 might be making to accomplish great objects. 
 
 Nor does it by any means do justice to the won- 
 derful piety and cheerful resignation with which she 
 bore for so many year's the trial laid on her by 
 disease, always wearing and weakening, her, often 
 acute to the last degree. Truly might be said or 
 her what I once ventured to say of another dear 
 sufferer : — 
 
 " ' — Her smiles at daily greeting cheer 
 
 The hearts whence hope hath well-nigh flown j. 
 Her smiles ; and yet she had a tear 
 For every sorrow but her own." 
 
 IvtquiJseant in pact. 
 
Postscript. 5 85 
 
 POSTSCRIPT. 
 
 I HAD requested my son, the present Solicitor- 
 General, to furnish me with his recollections of his- 
 last interview with J. Keble. Too late, however, to- 
 enable him to comply with my wish in time to in- 
 sert the answer in its proper place in the text : I add 
 it therefore as a Postscript : — 
 
 " I, Sussex Square, 
 St. Stephen, 1868. 
 
 " You ask me, my dear father, to do the most difficult 
 thing in the world, to put down simply upon paper what I 
 recollect of my last sight of Mr. Keble. The impression of" 
 it is indelible, but I have not the power of conveying to 
 others that which made it so. So much depends in such 
 a matter on looks, on silence, on manner, on the reve- 
 rence which education had implanted, and which know- 
 ledge ripened and strengthened; on a thousand things 
 which words cannot convey, and can hardly even suggest > 
 that I am afraid I can be of little service to you. But 
 this is what I can remember. 
 
 " Being on the Circuit at Winchester, and my work being. 
 over, I went on the 17th or iSth July, 1865, to Hursley, to- 
 see Mr. Keble. The Oxford University contest was just 
 over, and Mr. Hardy had been elected ; a result which Mr. 
 Keble had done his best to prevent, and which, with all 
 his respect for (and every one must respect) Mr. Hardy's, 
 character and ability, he regarded as disastrous to the Uni- 
 versity and to the Church. 
 
 " I found Mr. Keble, in spite of his late illness, as bright 
 in manner, and as clear in judgment, as ever I had seen-. 
 him. His faculties were quite unclouded, and all his corv- 
 
584 Memoir of the Rev, John Keble. 
 
 versation, though full of grief at the result of the Oxford 
 contest, yet full also of hope for the future, and with much 
 of his old playful humour in it. He was weak in body, as 
 I could see, and after a little while spent with him, I was 
 afraid of tiring him, and said that I should go to call on 
 Sir William Heathcote at the Park, and that I would come 
 back and bid him Good-bye. In spite of all I could say, he 
 would go with me, and we walked through his own little 
 wicket into the Park, and thence across the grass under 
 the walnut- tirees to the House, he enjoying the sunshine 
 and the air, and I the kindness, perhaps I may presume to 
 say the affection, which he shewed me then as always, and 
 which I recall always with gratitude, yet with a sense of 
 self-reproach. He talked on various, but chiefly on do- 
 mestic subjects j of my wife and children ; of my own 
 prospects ; of you ; of the Dysons ; of Sir WiUiam Heath- 
 cote ; and, lastly, with great warmth of regard and admi- 
 ration, of Mr. Gladstone. I have no note of what he 
 said, and though the whole impression is distinct, I do not 
 pretend to be able to recall the details. We stood for some 
 time talking at the door of Sir William's house, and then he 
 walked back alone. I called at the Vicarage on my way 
 from the Park to the village, and saw him for the last time. 
 The short walk had tired him, and he was lying down to 
 rest on the sofa, (a thing most unusual with him,) but he got 
 np, walked with me down to the village ; and so we parted. 
 There was, I am sure, no trace of failing then to be discerned 
 in his apprehension, or judgment, or discourse. He was an 
 old man who had been very ill, who was still physically 
 weak, and who needed care ; but he was the same Mr. 
 Keble I had always known, and whom, for aught that ap- 
 peared, I might hope still to know for many years to come. 
 Little bits of his tenderness, flashes of his fun, glimpses of 
 his austerer side, I seem to recall, but I cannot put them 
 
Postscript. 585 
 
 upon paper ; any words at my command would coarsen the 
 impression, and blur the image. Of this last meeting, little 
 as this is, I can say no more. 
 
 " Perhaps, however, it may be worth whUe putting down 
 two little bits of his character, which I do remember 
 freshly, though they belong to earlier dates. Once I re- 
 member walking with him just the same short walk from 
 his house to Sir William's, and our conversation fell upon 
 Charles I., with regard to whose truth and honour I had 
 used some expressions in a review which had, as I heard, 
 •displeased him. I referred to this, and he said it was 
 true. I replied that I was very sorry to displease him 
 by anything I said or thought ; but that if the Naseby 
 Letters were genuine, (to go no further into argument,) I 
 could not think that what I said was at all too strong, and 
 that a man could but do his best to form an honest opinion 
 upon historical evidence, and if he had to speak, to express 
 that opinion. On this he said, I remember with a tender- 
 ness and humility not only most touching, but to me most 
 embarrassing, that ' It might be so ; what was he to judge 
 of other men; he was old, and things were now looked 
 at very differently ; that he knew he had many things to 
 unlearn, and to learn afresh ; and that I must not mind what 
 he had said, for that in truth belief in the heroes of his 
 youth had become part of him.' I am afraid these are my 
 words, and not his, and I cannot give his way of speaking, 
 which to any one with a heart, I think, would have been as 
 overcoming as it was to me. 
 
 " The other matter was this, and I mention it not only 
 because it struck me very much at the time, but because 
 it is an instance of that severer part of Mr. Keble's cha- 
 racter, which appeared indeed but rarely, but which was 
 there, and which all who knew him well, knew to be 
 
586 Memoir of the Rev. jFohn Keble. 
 
 there. We were walking together in London in the year- 
 185 1, and I was telling him how much I had been im- 
 pressed with the difficulties as to the inspiration of Holy- 
 Scripture, which were growing stronger, and spreading more- 
 widely day by day ; and that it seemed to me this would 
 shortly become the great religious • question of the time. 
 I added that there was not, as far as I knew, any theory or 
 statement on the subject which even attempted to be philo- 
 sophical, except Coleridge's, in his ' Confessions of an In- 
 quiring Spirit ;' and that I wished Mr. Keble, or some one- 
 as competent as he, would take up the subject and deat 
 with it intellectually and thoroughly. He shewed great dis- 
 like to the discussion, and put it aside several times, and 
 on my pressing it upon him, he answered shortly, that most 
 of the men who had difficulties on this subject were too 
 wicked to be reasoned with. Most likely he thought that 
 a young man's forwardness and conceit needed rebuke, and 
 he administered it accordingly ; but besides this, it was an 
 instance of that in him which would be called severity or 
 intolerance. I do not pretend to say that it would be 
 wrongly called so, but it is certain that there are distinct- 
 indications of this spirit in the writings of St. Paul and St.. 
 John ; and I suppose that the more absolute and the more 
 certain the faith a man has in religious doctrine, the more 
 probable it is that he will be intolerant of doubt in others. 
 
 " Such, (without breaking the sacred seal of personal and 
 tender memories,) is all I can find to send you of my re- 
 collections of Mr. Keble. It is not worth sending, but I 
 send it in the hope of contributing in the very smallest de- 
 gree to a memoir by my father of one, whom his son was 
 taught as a child to revere, and whom he revered when he 
 grew up, both because he was taught and because he saw 
 the wisdom of the teaching. J. D. C." 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 " North Witham, 
 July i8, 1S67. 
 " My bear Sir, 
 
 " I have endeavoured to make some memoranda on 
 
 the several poiats you mentioned to me. But when I come 
 to look at them, I am grieved and ashamed at their meagre- 
 ness, and I fear they will be useless. Perhaps, however, 
 if you could send them to Wilson, they might suggest some- 
 thing to him, and he would confirm,, or correct, or supple- 
 ment what I have said. I know he has several letters on 
 parochial matters. He has been abroad, as periiaps you 
 know, all the winter ; but he is now in London, and hopes 
 to be at home next week. 
 
 " I do not know enough of our dearest friend's actual 
 ministrations to the sick to enable me to say what his uni- 
 form practice was. But, putting ■ together directions which 
 he has given to me from time to time, and allusions he has 
 made to what he has himself said or done on particular 
 occasions, I may say that, besides the passages - of Scrip- 
 ture which he used to read or repeat, and which he made 
 the foundation of whatever remark, in the way of encourage- 
 ment, instruction, or warning, he wished to make, his prayers 
 by the bedside were in each case a little office, made for 
 the occasion out of the prayers and collects and Psalms of 
 the Prayer-book. His father, he once told me, never used 
 any other prayers than those of the Visitation Service, but. 
 it was his own habit to range freely oy^x the whole Prayer- 
 book. His service, so to call it, commonly began' witii the- 
 first prayer for Good Friday, ' this Thy se;n^ant' being sub- 
 
5 88 Appendix. 
 
 stituted for ' this Thy family :' then there would be always 
 some kind of confession, very frequently the fifty-first Psalm, 
 (indeed, I believe he very seldom, if ever, said prayers with 
 any sick person without introducing some verses at least of 
 that Psalm) ; then came the prayers in the Visitation Ser- 
 vice and other collects, special petitions being introduced 
 here and there to suit the particular case, sometimes in his 
 own words, sometimes in the words of the Psalms or of the 
 Prayer-book. When death was imminent, over and above 
 the Commendatory Prayer prescribed in the Visitation Ser- 
 vice, I have known him repeat at intervals verses or pas- 
 sages of Scripture, interspersed with short suffrages and 
 ejaculations, extending over a considerable space of time. 
 In later years I believe he has made more use of books 
 of devotion, and not uncommonly he has read passages 
 from Bishop Wilson, Jeremy Taylor (Holy Living and 
 Dying), and Challoner. This last was always a great 
 favourite with him. i 
 
 " In his pastoral work generally, while he had, as every 
 one knows, a strong sense of the dignity of the Priesthood, 
 his chief personal feeling, if I may venture to say so, was 
 that which S. Paul expresses, when he says, ' Ourselves your 
 servants for Jesus' sake.' A very common form of expres- 
 sion with him, with regard to sick persons, was that of 
 -waiting on them. He held himself at the service of any 
 of his parishioners, at any time, and almost for any purpose. 
 He accounted himself their 'minister,' whose duty (and 
 ■delight) it was to help them in any way. In cases of pro- 
 longed sickness he tried to pay his visit on particular days, 
 that it might be expected and prepared for : and if the sick 
 person were near at hand, he would visit him as nearly as 
 possible at the same hour every day, his wish being, in this 
 as in everything else, to adapt himself to what he thought 
 would be most acceptable to those for whom he ministered. 
 
Appendix. 589 
 
 One case I specially remember of an old woman, whom he 
 used to visit in this way every evening regularly for some 
 time, just before she settled for the night. 
 
 " At the same time he never forgot that he was a steward, 
 entrusted both with the souls of men, whom he had to deal 
 with for thpir good, tenderly or severely, as there might be 
 occasion, and with the holy things of God, which he was 
 to guard from dishonour. Hence he was very plain-spoken, 
 sometimes stem, in his treatment of sinners, where there 
 were no signs of humility ; though, as you may suppose, no- 
 one could be more tender to those whose consciences were 
 seriously alarmed. The lack of a regular system of disci- 
 pline he tried to supply in such ways as he could, making 
 a point of finding some opportunity of reproving noto- 
 rious offenders and setting some mark upon them, in the 
 hope (to use his own frequent quotation) that " by making 
 their faces ashamed, they might be led to seek the Lord." 
 On some occasions, in the case of disgraceful marriages, 
 he has substituted for the exhortation or sermon in the 
 Marriage Service a short address, in which he remonstrated 
 earnestly and plainly with the young people. Little were 
 they whom he then, or at other times, reproved aware of 
 the intense anxiety with which he watched their look and 
 bearing under reproof 
 
 " Every member of his flock was a charge to him ; but 
 his main anxiety, it may perhaps be said, was for the young^ 
 men and women, and the very old. It is remarkable what 
 a large number of aged persons could be reckoned up whomi 
 he visited regularly for periods of varying length, but in 
 several cases for many years, and for whom he entertained 
 the deepest respect and affection. . Their death was to him 
 the loss of personal friends, and he loved to recall their 
 sayings or anything characteristic in their dress or manner. 
 The thought of the simple goodness of many of them was 
 
590 Appendix. 
 
 •one of his chief joys. I shall never forget the delight and 
 thankful reverence with which he told me of one of them, 
 an old man of a singularly thoughtful and religious tone of 
 mind, who said to him on one occasion, when he went to 
 see him, ' I have just been at the foot of the Cross, looking 
 up and praying for pardon.' A short extract frqm one of 
 his letters will illustrate his thoughts and feelings about the 
 old people : 'The chief Hursley news is the death of dear 
 ■old Dame H., with whom at the last, and for a good time 
 before, all seemed more peaceful than I expected. You 
 know how low and disturbed she used to be at times about 
 her spiritual condition. I always dreaded this getting worse : 
 but it pleased God to remove it entirely for a long while, 
 months, before she died, and nothing could be more peace- 
 ful, and as it seemed more full of humble quiet devotion, 
 till she sank away, by F: A.'s account, "like a baby from 
 the breast.'" 'It is startling about Mrs. C. ; but somehow 
 I can fancy that (please God) it was not so startling to her. 
 Would that it may not pass away as in a dream from the 
 rest of them.' \ 
 
 " The following refer to young persons : ' Give my love 
 to J, C., poor fellow: I trust I shall see him again; but 
 I should not wonder if his decay were now very rapid.' 
 * I am very soiTy indeed about L., seeing I had utterly 
 neglected her, or nearly so. Please to tell me anything 
 yoa can hear about her, and say sometliing kind to her 
 mother for me. I have always been looking forward to 
 instructing her for Confirmation, and this has come quite 
 suddenly upon me.' 'I hope you Avill manage to see 
 M. A. B. now and then, and give her a few verses of 
 & Psalm to learn, and talk to her. This nursing work may- 
 do her the greatest good.' ' J. D. is getting very ill indeed 
 with a complaint of the lungs, and will soon, I expect, take 
 to his bed. I hope he is " answering to the scourge." ' 
 
Appendix. Sgr 
 
 " Here is another extract which will shew his interest 
 in everything that concerned his people : ' At present I 
 have scarce time for more than a message to Mrs. B. Pray 
 tell her, with my very kind regards, that I very much advise 
 lier to be content with C.'s remaining in the army. It 
 seems as if Providence had led him there for his good, 
 since he has improved so much ; and if he got his discharge 
 and came back among his old companions, I should very 
 much fear he might fall again into his old bad ways, and 
 then Mrs. B. would be blaming herself for it. It is far 
 better to let well alone, and instead of being unhappy, to 
 thank God for the chance of his being " a devout soldier," 
 instead of a dissolute young tradesman. I dla hope that 
 she will be led to view the matter in this light, for I am 
 sure it would be far better. Perhaps it would be a good 
 plan to point out to her how much there is in the Bible 
 -about soldiers serving God, — Cornelius, the good Centu- 
 jrion, and others, David, Joshua, Jonathan, &c.' 
 
 " The two following extracts also may be interesting : — 
 " ' I am very much concerned about poor W., and sorry 
 to be away ; yet perhaps it may be the better chance for 
 liim, as one temptation to be irritable is removed by my 
 absence. And it is a great comfort that he listens patiently, 
 -and is subdued in his temper, more or less. I do not see 
 that you can do better with him than read the coramand- 
 xnents as Wilson suggests, and I think it likely tiiat you will 
 be able to draw from him the sort of confession one has 
 heard from M. and others, that he has broken them all but 
 the sixth, and perhaps the eighth. He ought to be pressed 
 about the sixth, for I am afraid his unkindness to his wife 
 broke her spirits, and led her to that course which ruined her 
 health, and ended in her death. The matter of her funeral 
 "ivas, that I doubted whether to read the service, she being 
 CO notorious for drinking and neglect of the church; only as 
 
592 Appendix. 
 
 she permitted me to be sent for, and expressed ■ some sort 
 of penitence, I did not think myself justified in treating her 
 as an excommunicated person. But I wrote a note to- 
 her brother, explaining exactly how I felt, and hoping they 
 would consider the event as a warning. I left it to their 
 discretion, whether they would read it to W. or no ; they 
 did, and he was very angry, and threatened to write to the 
 bishop. However we got to be on speaking terms again, 
 I have since seen him once (if not oftener) very drunk, and 
 swearing wretchedly. I would read to him, I think, such 
 places as Rev. xx. ii — 15, our Lord's parables and prophe- 
 cies about the day of judgment, and St. Paul's catalogue of 
 deadly sins ; and then, if he is clearly alarmed and softened, 
 you might refer to the Prodigal Son, the penitent woman, 
 &c. I am afraid you will hardly bring him to much of 
 a special confession, but you will be quite able to judge 
 from time to time ; and if he wishes for the H. C, perhaps 
 Wilson had better see him too, at least if you are doubtful.* 
 ' I got your letter to-day, and was very glad of it ; the re- 
 port of poor W. was on the whole better than I expected. 
 I think it very likely that my absence may be a good thing. 
 If you have an opportunity, will you give him a kind mes- 
 sage from me, and say how thankful I shall be if he prove 
 truly penitent. I suppose the great point will be to con- 
 vince him that it must be very doubtful whether his peni- 
 tence would prove true, if he recovered, and therefore he 
 must go on in fear and trembling to the end. He should 
 clearly understand, I suppose, that any wish for the Com- 
 munion must come entirely from him ; that we cannot, 
 under the circumstances, take on us to press it' (July 8 
 and 14, 1842.) 
 
 " When he first heard that one of his parishioners had 
 become a Mormonite, he wrote, ' I am vexed about those 
 unhappy Mormonites, more especially as I never yet did 
 
Appendix. 593 
 
 anything of a shepherd's part by the family. Do tell 
 
 me anything that passes with regard to them. From what 
 you say I am afraid it is likely to be a very troublesome set, 
 almost as diabolically suited to our Anglo-Saxon cravings 
 now, as the Koran in its time to those of the Eastern 
 Christians.' (July, 1851.) 
 
 " He took great pains in preparing the young people for 
 confirmation ; sometimes, as soon as one confirmation was 
 over, making a list of those whose turn would come next, 
 and at all times beginning the preparation several months 
 beforehand. His usual course was to go through in order, 
 first, the Baptismal Service, then the Catechism, then the 
 Confirmation Service, and lastly, the office for Holy Com- 
 munion ; he took a certain portion each time, making per- 
 haps twenty or thirty lessons on the whole. He usually 
 wrote down on a paper three or four passages of Scripture 
 bearing on the subject of the next lesson, which he required 
 to be learnt by heart, or carefully studied, and he was always 
 very particular in ascertaining whether the lesson, as he 
 called it, had been attended to. Wherever it was prac- 
 ticable, he led his pupils up to their first communion imme- 
 diately after confirmation, but in many cases he was satisfied 
 if they promised to continue under instruction. One class 
 of boys came to him for more than a twelvemonth, and read 
 through with him different parts of the Bible, according to 
 their own choice, before he could persuade them to turn 
 their minds distinctly to preparation for Holy Communion. 
 I believe his rule as to refusing to recommend for confirma- 
 tion those who would not pledge themselves to communicate 
 became stricter as years passed on ; but I should say gene- 
 rally, that he was always very much guided by circumstances 
 in regard to his adherence to particular rules. At one con- 
 firmation (October, 1853) he required the candidates to put 
 their names to the following paper: 'In the presence oi 
 
 Qq 
 
*S94 Appendix. 
 
 Almighty God, I, A. B., seriously declare, that I am turning 
 my mind towards Holy Communion ; that I hope, before 
 ^•ery long, by God's mercy, to be fit for it ; that I will pray 
 to God to make me fit ; and that I will come to Mr. Keble 
 -or Mr. Young from time to time, if they wish me to do so, 
 to have their advice about coming or staying away.' He 
 was most anxious to retain his hold on the young persons 
 who had been under his instruction, and never lost an 
 -opportunity of intercourse with them. I find two short 
 references to one young fellow, whom he would fain keep 
 
 ^yith him : ' If you see anything of the , will you enquire 
 
 after T., and say I was much disappointed at not seeing or 
 hearing from him before we came away.' 'There are two 
 things I have been forgetting to mention to you; one is 
 T. S., whom I neglected to see before we came out. If 
 you have a good opportunity, will you find out how he is 
 going on, and why he was perfidious with me in not coming 
 to H. C, or at least not coming to me to say why he has 
 kept away. If you think it more likely to answer, you need 
 only say that I depend on having a call from him as soon 
 ^as ever I get home.' (July, 1856.) 
 
 " I enclose the address which he sent fix)m Penzance to 
 the newly-confirmed at the last confirmation in 1865 ; it was 
 (delivered to them on the day of confirmation. I send also 
 ^a copy of a short form of prayer, which he drew^ up for the 
 use of persons preparing for their first communion, and 
 which at one time he used regularly with his pupils. He 
 •was particularly happy, as you know, in his catechizing, 
 the chief characteristics of wliich, as it seems to me, were 
 the reverent honesty with which he kept close to the passage 
 of Scripture with which he was dealing, and the simple 
 manner in which he drew out its meaning. I remember 
 •one Easter Monday catechizing, in which his object was 
 to shew how little girls might take pattern by St. Mary 
 
Appendix. 595 
 
 Magdalene. He first drew from them with some minute- 
 ness the several particulars of her history in connexion with 
 the resurrection, and then dwelt on the lessons to be de- 
 rived from it ; e.g. that they should prepare over-night for 
 the work of the next day, that they should rise early, that 
 in their diflSculties they should go to those who were set 
 •over them, that they should stay by our Lord at all times, 
 or as near Him as possible : if they were unhappy, they 
 should still look after Him ; then they would find that He 
 would shew Himself to them in ways they least thought of, 
 as He was with St. Mary Magdalene as a gardener, and 
 with the Nazarenes as a carpenter; only they would not 
 be~ allowed to touch Him all at once. He "would train 
 them gradually, and draw them up to Himself. And they 
 must not think it hard, for it was His way with His own 
 Apostles. The next day he catechized the boys, and the 
 subject was the visit of St. Peter and St. John to the se- 
 pulchre. Boys usually (he said) hear of the Resurrection 
 -and other great Christian truths first from women ; if they 
 .are good boys,, they make haste to mind what they are told. 
 The innocent come first to the apprehension of those 
 truths ; but the penitent, feeling their need, seek to enter 
 more deeply into it. Then, because they seek relief for 
 themselves, iJiey are disappointed at finding Christ's clothes, 
 and not Himself; and they vonder, and sometimes doubt. 
 The others believe and are satisfied, being made up of 
 simple love. Both go home, that is, to their own duties, 
 to wait and see what He will do next with them. The 
 v/omen on the contrary stay near the grave, to satisfy their 
 feelings. Both are right, and both Messed, because both 
 are in Him and for Him. He generally took boys and 
 ,girls alternately, preparing than, for the most part, before- 
 hand for the questions he was about to ask in church. 
 He rather made a point of this previous preparation, as 
 
596 Appendix. 
 
 tending to check any disposition to self-conceit or forward- 
 ness. I may mention that he was very particular about 
 the children having their Bibles in church and following- 
 the Lessons, and for some years it was his daily custom to- 
 call up a few of them after the service was over, and ques- 
 tion them for a few minutes in the two chapters which had 
 been read. 
 
 " A considerable portion of his time was spent in the- 
 School. He was most scrupulous in going to the Sunday- 
 School from 9.15 to 10.30 in the morning, and from 2 to 3 
 in the afternoon. I think it might be truly said, that unless- 
 he was hindered by illness (which happily occurred very 
 rarely), or by some special call of parochial diity, he never 
 missed, during the thirty years he was at Hursley. Besides 
 this, it was his habit for several years to go to the boys* 
 school every morning soon after 9 and teach the first class 
 until service-time at 10, taking them through one part of 
 the Bible after another. On Friday there was an examina- 
 tion in writing in the work which had been done during the 
 week. This he did, whoever might be staying with him, 
 and whatever letters, interesting or perplexing, he might 
 have received. School-time often came on him before he 
 was ready, but as soon as he became aware that the clock 
 had struck, away he went. Many of his friends must re- 
 member to have seen him hurrying across tlie lawn and 
 down the Long Walk which led to the school, when he 
 fancied that he was late. But he was never in a hurry in 
 his teaching ; he was always patient, both with his scholars 
 and with his subject, dealing with it very simply and mi- 
 nutely, yet very deeply and practically. He invariably 
 stood when he was teaching, and that, not so much because 
 he thought it gave him more command over the boys' 
 attention, but, as it would seem, because he fancied it 
 helped to keep him up to the mark, and hindered him from 
 
Appendix. 597 
 
 • — . — _ ^_ — 
 
 becoming listless. Indeed, in everything he took in ha)^d, 
 if I may venture to say it, he always did his best, n.b 
 never spared himself any labour of body or of mind, but 
 whatever he undertook, a small matter or a great, he did it 
 with his might, often with much misgiving and complaint, 
 but always with an honest, patient endeavour to give his 
 whole mind to it. Thus his dread of any kind of self- 
 indulgence was a balance to that profound humility, which 
 was perhaps his chief characteristic. He was always busy, 
 though without the pretence, or even the appearance of 
 business. Indeed, so various were his occupations and so 
 willing was he to be interrupted, that a stranger might 
 almost think him desultory in his habits ; but every one 
 acquainted with him knows how very scrupulous he was 
 never to lose any time. He was always engaged, he always 
 had something to do, and he set to it at once without delay. 
 Continuous application to one thing was scarcely possible 
 under his circumstances, and he never looked for it ; but 
 whenever he had anything special in hand, either in the 
 way of reading or writing, he stuck to it closely till it was 
 done. If he were reading a book that interested him, he 
 would carry it about with him and read it at odds and ends 
 of time, so that it was astonishing how quickly he got 
 through it, though perhaps he had not been able to attend 
 to it at any one time for an hour together. In this way 
 he read almost everything that came into the house. If 
 he were engaged in writing, his mind became thoroughly 
 engrossed with his subject ; it was always in his thoughts ; 
 and though he seldom, if ever, suspended his ordinary 
 work, but paid his pastoral visits and taught his classes 
 at home as at other times, these things did not seem to 
 distract him; he returned at once to his work, just as if 
 it had not been discontinued, and he would sit down to 
 write, when he had only a few minutes to spare, as readily 
 
598 Appendix. 
 
 as he would take up a book. ETe usually wrote on the- 
 backs of letters or stray pieces of paper, numbering each 
 slip, and securing the loose papers in a clasp ; and then he, 
 or more frequently perhaps Mrs. Keble, made a fafr copy 
 for the printer. He very rarely made use of his study, ex- 
 cept for private intervdews ; he greatly preferred' to bring 
 his books and papers into the drawing-room, and there 
 he used to write, seemingly undisturbed by any reading or 
 conversation that was going on. Nothing, however, escaped 
 him ; he knew all that was said, and was as much inter- 
 ested' or provoked by the book that was being read, as if 
 he had had nothing else to attend to; at the same time- 
 that his own special work went on as effectually and as- 
 rapidly as if there had been nothing to distract him. Once, 
 and onee only, I remember his shutting himself up in his 
 study, to avoid interruption. It was the day before the 
 consecration of the church (in 1848), his sermon for the- 
 evening of the next day was scarcely begun, and there were- 
 so many things to be- attended to, that he was in despair, 
 and felt that the only chance of the sermon being ready- 
 was to lock himself up for two or three hours, and give 
 strict orders that no one was to go to him on any pretence 
 whatever.. In this way he was able (to use a common 
 expression of his) to ' break the' back' of his sermon, and 
 to give his mind without discomfort to other matters. 
 
 " There was a small Workhouse at Hursley, which was 
 a special object of care and interest to him. The inmates 
 were chiefly old and infirm. At one time tliey were allowed 
 to go to the Daily Service, and he often remarked with 
 pleasure on the large acquaintance which some of them 
 shewed with the Gospel history from hearing it continually 
 in church. It was a great grief to him, when, in conse- 
 quence of some misbehaviour, the permissixsn was with- 
 drawn. I send you a form of Morning Pirayer, which he 
 
Appendix. 5995 
 
 drew up for use in the House, and which is still usecL 
 The Evening Prayer was prepared, but I doubt whether it 
 was ever printed ; certainly it is not used. 
 
 " I can scarcely venture to hope that these recollections-- 
 •will be of much service to you. For your and others' sake^ 
 I could almost wish that some one else had had the oppor- 
 tunities which I had. But I suppose it would be impos- 
 sible for any one, by a mere statement of general facts or 
 of single incidents, to give any true notion of that wonder- 
 ful humility, which however was ever bold, — at times even 
 forward, — in defence of truth and duty, of that considera- 
 tion and reverence for others which never became softness- 
 or blind partiality, and that exquisite keenness of feeling,, 
 ■whether of love or indignation, which was always tempered 
 by wisdom and good sense. Still it is a real sorrow to me 
 to find that I am of so much less use to you than I ought 
 to be in drawing a picture which, if drawn to the life, might. 
 have so much influence for good 
 
 " Believe me, with very sincere respect and gratitude, 
 _" Yours faithfiilly, 
 
 "Peter Young." 
 
6oo Appendix. 
 
 " Mr. Keele had so little method in directing any lay- 
 helpers who worked under him in his parish, that it is 
 difficult to give an idea of his way of employing them. He 
 gave no accurate directions ; partly from his great humihty ; 
 he used to say, ' I am always sure to say the wrong thing.' 
 He would not even divide the work regularly amongst two 
 or three who wished to engage in it, or assign certain 
 portions of it to each ; and in the end it fell almost en- 
 tirely to one person, who worked under him for seventeen 
 years. But he did not give her any rules or directions, 
 except by occasionally recommending to her particular 
 cases, if he thought it likely that she would be of use to 
 them; and even then anything he said was in the way 
 of a hint, which she might take or leave. To all her 
 reports of the poor under her care, and to every minute 
 particular concerning them, he used to listen with the 
 deepest interest, often with tears in his eyes; and when 
 absent, it was his habit to write carefully about each case 
 brought before him." 
 
 Here I omit the extracts from two letters which 
 I have already printed in my text. 
 
 " During the last months of Mr. Keble's life, the feiend 
 to whom they were written visited Bournemouth ; he sent 
 for her every day, and talked to her for a long time, en- 
 quiring carefully for individual cases. Especially (indeed 
 this might be said of him always) you could never weary 
 him, when talking of what concerned the sick; he never 
 seemed to grudge time spent in any way which might 
 
Appendix. 60 r 
 
 comfort or even amuse them. To one deaf cripple in his 
 parish he was a constant visitor, because the man thought 
 he could understand the motion of his lips ; he used also 
 to hold conversations with him by writing on a slate, and 
 to set him sums to amuse him, looking over and correcting 
 them himself at his next visit. 
 
 " Although he did not apportion work for his lay-helpers, 
 he was careful to do so for himself and his Curates ; gene- 
 rally arranging with them after Morning Service where each 
 should go to in the course of the day \ not that he gave up 
 any districts to them, for all were visited in turn by himself. 
 There are seven hamlets in the parish (besides outlying 
 cottages), the nearest one mile, the farthest three miles 
 distant ; these were generally all gone through in the course 
 of each week, so that everything was brought under his eye. 
 If anything escaped him which he thought he ought to have 
 known, he was much distressed, and blamed himself for it. 
 He often read when he walked alone about the parish; 
 when accompanied in these walks by any young person 
 his talk was almost always of the sights and sounds around 
 them ; of the clouds and the pictures in them, the birds 
 and their notes, the sweet odours in the air ; or if the bells 
 were ringing he used to make up sentences which he 
 fancied they were saying. In a letter from Penzance, 
 Mrs. Keble writes, ' the cloudland here is a great pleasure 
 to my husband.' The ' low sweet tones of nature's lyre,' 
 always soothed and comforted him ; and the rest and re- 
 freshment which he found in the visible creation greatly 
 contributed to preserve his health amidst the deep anxieties 
 of his later years, caused by those, sorrows of the Church, 
 which were always his sorrows. Sometimes indeed his 
 friends, when eager to discuss some Church matter with 
 him, have been disappointed to find that his mind was too 
 full just then of some harmony of nature, or else that he 
 
6o2 Appendix. 
 
 ■was too much engrossed by some child who happened to 
 be in the room, to give them full attention. Once when 
 this was apparent, and he had not seemed interested in an 
 important subject about which a friend was very eager, he 
 answered, ' I am afraid I have been thinking of nothing, 
 but how very beautiful the situation of that monastery 
 which you described must be !' 
 
 "He generally made his parochial visits on foot until 
 the last two years ; after his illness, Mrs. Keble did not 
 like him to be alone, and she drove him about in a little 
 donkey carriage. He seemed to realize so vividly that 
 each of his parishioners was his own special charge, that 
 no duties elsewhere, or public afiairs, were allowed to in- 
 terfere with a watchful and anxious care for them, only to 
 be compared to that which a father feels for his children. 
 To them first, as to all in order who ever in earnest sought 
 his coimsel, his thought seemed always to be 'ourselves 
 your servants for Jesus' sake.' Those to whom such service 
 was at any time rendered, will rerfiember all their lives the 
 loving gentleness with which it was done, especially his- 
 kindness and tenderness to those in trouble, and his peni- 
 tence if he thought he had neglected or wounded any one,, 
 asking pardon for it, with tears in his eyes ; so that his- 
 friends learned more from the example of his humility anil 
 love than even from his direct teaching. He thought much 
 of helping others by praying for them, and a few — very 
 few — ^may have some idea how much time he spent thu.'j 
 for any in sickness or trouble; he made some rule about 
 dividing those for whom he made intercession, praying for 
 them at different times in the day. He said of one who 
 was ill in his parish, but of whom be could not for various 
 reasons see much, ' I am afraid he thinks I neglect him, 
 but indeed I don't ; every day I think of him and pray for 
 him, and for a good while.' Especially he set much store 
 
Appendix, 603 
 
 on tlifi common intercession of the people in church, asking 
 it for many things, as, once, when a guest was leaving him^ 
 'For one about to leave this place/ and always, before 
 every Litany, ' For the Church of England in her very great 
 and continued distress, by reason of unha,ppy divisions 
 among us; for liose in any doubt, trouble, or perplexity 
 of mind ; for tiie Churches of South Africa and New Zea- 
 land ; and among sick people, especially for ." He 
 
 always carefully considered the people in his parish, es- 
 pecially the old and poor, before making any change in 
 the arrangement of the service. In 1864 a Bishop had 
 talked to him of the advisableness of omitting the reading 
 of the Conamandmients,. &c., at the Morning Service, when 
 there had already been an early Communion : in talking- 
 the subject over afterwards, though much wishing never 
 to use the beginning of that office without celebrating, he 
 said, ' I am afradd if I were to adopt the Bishop's plan here, 
 
 that old Mrs. , who cannot come to early Communion, 
 
 would miss, the Commandments and Epistle and Gospel on 
 the Sundays when there is not a late celebration.' He was 
 very cautious and gentle in, his dealings with any in his 
 parish who were quarrelsome or hard to manage,, waiting 
 until he found some opportunity of doing them good. 
 There were some in the village who were rude and rough 
 tO! him, but he went patiently away, and came agaia after 
 a time. 
 
 " Some speeches, however, not of rudeness to himseir 
 but su.ch as he thought shewed a hard and unloving mind, 
 especially towairda relations, occasionally grated upon and 
 a<^gravated him more than he could bear : he never seemed 
 able to forget than, and might almost be said to be a little 
 hard on two. or three of whom he once formed a bad 
 opinion. 
 
 " He was a very frequent visitor to the inmates of the- 
 
6o4 Appendix. 
 
 workhouse, who were chiefly old men. One of those to 
 whom he had been kind was asked after he had left 
 Hursley whether he had been happy there ; his answer 
 was, ' Happy ? that's no word for it ; I seemed to myself 
 to be saying all day long, " Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God 
 of Sabaoth." ' Mr. Keble was pleased to find that these old 
 men learned much of the Gospels by coming to church on 
 week-days ; they sat on the front benches, and in reading 
 the Second Lesson he addressed himself, as it were, espe- 
 cially to them, turning towards them and reading slowly 
 and with pauses, almost as if he were alone with them and 
 were speaking to them. His manner of reading Holy Scrip- 
 ture was very remarkable : in its extreme simplicity it was 
 like that of a reverent child, and yet probably all who 
 were in the habit of hearing him have felt the wonderful 
 charm of it, and that he made them understand the Lessons 
 better than any one else ; conveying to them also, in some 
 small measure, his own intense feeling of the sacredness 
 of every inspired word. He always paused before reading 
 the Bible, often putting his hand to his forehead for a 
 moment (as was often his way), and after the Lesson was 
 ended he made the same pause before saying ' Here end- 
 eth,' &c. In some sermon of his he takes it for granted 
 that the custom of pious people would be to pray inwardly 
 before and after reading any portion of Holy Scripture. 
 He never could bear to hear Scripture language used in 
 general conversation, and even a half-pla)^ul allusion to 
 any expression in the Bible, such as 'You have come at 
 the eleventh hour,' seemed to make him shudder; he 
 always reproved it if he could. 
 
 "He thought that much knowledge of the Bible was 
 acquired by attendance at Daily Service, and once when 
 it was proposed to keep the school-children from church 
 on week-days in order that they might have more time for 
 
Appendix. 605 
 
 preparation before an examination, he said that their time 
 in church might be made a great mean of preparing them 
 for examination in Holy Scripture. For a long time he 
 used each morning, after the congregation had left the 
 church, to question the first class on the Lessons they 
 had just heard, standing at the entrance to the chancel, 
 the children round him, and generally ending by giving 
 them the Blessing. For many years he hardly ever missed 
 catechising in church on Sunday afternoons, taking the first 
 class of boys and of girls alternately. He prepared them 
 for it in school, just before the service, asking the same 
 questions as afterwards in church, and was always most 
 careful that the shy or backward ones should have full 
 time for consideration, reproving almost sharply if one 
 answered when not specially asked. In church he always 
 repeated the children's answers, so that all might hear. 
 
 " For himself the Daily Services were among his greatest 
 dehghts and refreshments ; if by some rare chance he was 
 not in his place, he still came in, if possible, for some part 
 of the Service ; if he were to dine out and the hour inter- 
 fered with church, he used to dress early, come in and 
 kneel down near the door, and stay till the last moment,, 
 often till reminded by Mrs. Keble that he must go. 
 
 " He tried having an early Litany on Wednesdays and 
 Fridays, in the hope that labourers would attend ; also, 
 as many believe, from the longing to be himself more in- 
 stant in penitential prayer the more the gathering troubles- 
 of the Church, and the doubts and perplexities of many 
 souls, weighed upon his spirit. It was begun in 1850, at 
 5 o'clock in summer and S^- in winter, and continued for 
 three years. When he came into his stall on week-days 
 he used to turn round for a few moments, and look to see 
 who was there, and as he passed up the aisle to the vestry, 
 he had a way of noticing without looking, and giving a 
 
6o6 Appendix. 
 
 ■slight, half smile of welcome and blessing to any child or 
 young person whom he passed. 
 
 " His evening lectures during Advent and Lent and on 
 Saints' Days were different in their kind from his ordinary 
 sermons ; they seemed more especially spoken to those who 
 he thought would best understand him, and in the dimness 
 ■of the church on summer evenings his words used to sound 
 like an evening -meditation. He liked Mrs. Keble to play 
 to him while he was writing his sermons, he said it helped 
 him ; he was very fond of bits from ' Ads and Galatea,' 
 and other works of Handel ; also of the Irish melodies. He 
 hardly ever used his study for writing of any sort, but 
 carried his papers and books into the drawing-room, set- 
 tling himself between the window and the door, which in 
 summer were -usmally both open ; there he seemed to hear 
 everything that went on without being distarbed by it; 
 even reading aloud he liked while he was -writing, occa- 
 sionally taking the book from the reader and going on 
 himself for a little while, making quaint remarks as he read, 
 -and then returning to his work. The last piece which he 
 read in this way with us was ' Honor Neale,' in which, as 
 in the other poems of its author, he took much delight 
 
 " His book on ' Eucharistical Adoration' was entirely 
 •written on scraps of paper and backs of envelopes, and was 
 afterwards fairly copied out from these by Mrs. Keble ; he 
 seemed unable to write about what he felt most deeply ex- 
 cept in this way, and at odd times ; he could not always on 
 being referred to decipher these scraps himself, they had 
 been so frequently altered and -written over. His notes for 
 sermons or weelc-day lectures, which were all but extempore, 
 were generally written in tlais way, on any scrap of paper 
 which came to hand ; these notes, though carefully pre- 
 pared beforehand, were hardly ever referred to when he was 
 actually preaching. He was continually gathering up matter 
 
Appendix. 6of 
 
 for his sermons and food for instruction from the common 
 circumstances of every-day life; no one could be much 
 with him without perceiving from his sermons how he had 
 marked and pondered over little sayings or incidents which 
 scarcely struck others, bringing out of them precious mean- 
 ings and valuable teaching, and so ' hallowing all he found.' 
 He writes, in i860, to a young person as to ways of medi- 
 tating on Holy Scripture: 'You might settle the evening 
 before, one of the last things, what text of Scripture, or 
 what sacred subject, should be your theme for the next 
 <lay, and during the day you would be gleaning up more 
 or less in reference to it, which it would be interesting to 
 set down, or recapitulate in memory, at night ; something in. 
 ilu way in which we construct our sermons from day to day. 
 You should take hints as well as you can from passing 
 circumstances, sayings w""* you hear casually, or meet with 
 in reading, and w''' you can connect with the subject of 
 the day : e.g. I observed one of our little singers to-day, 
 both morning and evening, with his eyes so simply fixed on 
 his Prayer-book, that I was quite ashamed of my own in- 
 attention ; he did not know I was looking at him, but after- 
 wards I told him to go on doing so : my own share in this 
 might, or ought to be, a lesson in the way of contrition ; 
 and his, in the way of hope of the heavenly Watcher's ap- 
 probation ^' 
 
 » As early as 1813 or 14, a friend had given me Boyle's " Occasional 
 Reflections," which Mr. Weyland had repubhshed in part. I lent the 
 book to Keble, who was much delighted with it ; and I thinlt he 
 -adopted the practice of the pious philosopher. The book is so in- 
 teresting, and the practice so useful, that I regret that it is not 
 more read. The practice may be summed up thus,— make every ap- 
 pearance, or circumstance, which you observe, or which happens to 
 you, however seemingly common or trifling, a ground of moral or 
 religious reflection. The book shews how the smallest incidents may 
 -teach the most important lessons. — J. T. C. 
 
6o8 Appendix. 
 
 " Mr. Keble was n6ver tired of waiting on the sick in 
 Holy Communion; he generally went to them on foot, 
 carrying his own little black bag ; and if they were poor he 
 used to take some dainty morsel in a basket besides. He 
 never proposed to give the H. C. privately, he said the re- 
 quest ought to come from the sick person ; but he was 
 always ready to take the slightest hint, and if he thought 
 that shyness prevented the desire for it being expressed^ he 
 used to get some one else to speak to the sick person, and 
 find out his wishes. One poor woman asked him to come 
 to her every week, he thought she meant for Holy Com- 
 munion, and during her illness celebrated every Monday 
 morning by her bedside. At such times he never talked at 
 all to the sick person by way of instruction or preparation ; 
 there was nothing but the service. He did not say anything 
 aloud on coming into the house, but first greeted the sick 
 person, asking about his health, and then immediately began 
 to prepare the simple altar, which he was careful to place so 
 that the sick person could easily see ever3'thing. He said the 
 service very slowly and quietly, making pauses that he might 
 the more easily be followed. After giving the Bread, he used 
 to become so absorbed in prayer for the sick person, that 
 more than once, when no one was present who would re- 
 mind him, he entirely forgot to give the Chalice, and after 
 long prayer went on with the rest of the service. When it 
 was over, he used to fold up his little black stole carefully, 
 and to lay it, with a few words of private prayer, on the 
 foot of the sick person's bed ; then, when he had put all by, 
 he shook hands with those who had assisted, thanking them 
 for doing so. He said once, after a private Communion, 
 that he should like the old custom of the kiss of peace to be 
 restored at such times ; and when he came to young persons 
 he used to kiss them on the forehead or hand. Except in 
 extreme cases he never would celebrate more than once in 
 
Appendix, 609 
 
 the day, and before 12 o'clock, and he always wished to 
 have at least two to communicate besides the sick person. 
 
 " The preparation of his candidates for Confirmation was 
 extended over a long time : one year, at the beginning of 
 Lent, he gave notice that there would be a Confirmation 
 at the end of Lent «« the next year, and therefore desired to 
 receive at once the names of those who would then be con- 
 firmed. The children, whom he prepared, came to him 
 either in classes or singly every week for about a year be- 
 fore their Confirmation ; he took those of different ranks of 
 life separately, as needing a difference in the kind of teach- 
 ing given, and as there were few of the upper class in his 
 parish, these mostly came to him each alone every week. 
 He usually went through the Baptismal, Confirmation, and 
 Communion Services, taking a little bit each time, and illus- 
 trating it largely, especially from Holy Scripture. The 
 knowledge of the Bible possessed by his village children 
 long before their preparation for Confirmation began, and 
 the way in which it was interwoven in their minds with the 
 Creeds and the Catechism, was something very uncommon 
 indeed. 
 
 " To some, before Confirmation, he gave only oral teach- 
 ing, to others questions in writing, directing them as to the 
 books they were to consult ; and he caused those who were 
 capable of profiting by it to study the Ancient Latin and 
 Greek Liturgies, helping them with the language if neces- 
 sary, and pointing out where our service joined on to older 
 and more perfect offices. If farm lads could not come to 
 him for press of work, he went to them, one by one, how- 
 ever far off". As to still more close and personal teaching 
 and guidance of conscience, whether with his parishioners 
 or others who sought his counsel, he was always ready, 
 though not using any kind of method, to see any one at 
 
 R r 
 
6io Appendix. 
 
 whatever inconvenience to himself j often in his later years, 
 when he had fallen asleep after the Sunday services, rousing 
 himself to receive such visits. Perhaps he might be said 
 sometimes to seem, at least, to discourage strangers, partly 
 from wishing them, where possible, to apply to those set 
 over them in the order of God's Providence, and a shrink- 
 ing from being thought of more than any other earnest 
 country clergyman, especially if he perceived any unreality 
 in those who came to him — partly from his excessive humi- 
 lity. He used to say he was a very bad adviser, incapable 
 of guiding any one well, and bade those whom he did advise 
 to pray that he might be able to help them. In all such 
 matters he was more than ever careful to observe the closest 
 obedience to the directions in the Prayer-book : sometimes 
 when applied to he would for answer read that part of the 
 Exhortation at the time of giving notice of Holy Com- 
 munion which refers to such cases : and he did not use the 
 special Absolution without asking 'if it were humbly and 
 heartily desired;' colitinually exhorting those whom he 
 taught to take all from om: Lord as Personally present. 
 ' Christ is all and in all,' would best sum up his teaching 
 both in public and in private. He often paused if asked 
 a question about any spiritual matter, looked down and 
 seemed to apply to God before answering. One who knew 
 him well said, ' I believe he was always praying, continually 
 making ejaculatory supplications j' and so being himself 
 watered with the continual dew of God's blessing, his very 
 presence brought refreshment and help to others. Though 
 shy of teaching directly, he was always letting drop little 
 sayings by the way, full of suggestion and instruction. Of 
 those who differed from him, if he thought them child-like 
 and devout, he always spoke in the gentlest way, giving 
 them credit for being better Churchmen than they thought 
 themselves. Of one old parishioner, long since dead, he 
 
Appendix. 6i i 
 
 said to a friend, ' I am afraid he did not like me nearly so 
 well as I liked him ; he thought himself a very Low Church- 
 man, but you know he really was an excellent Churchman, 
 he came to church almost every day.' And Mr. Keble used 
 to tell with great glee of this old friend's delight with a ser- 
 mon preached by a strange clergyman, not knowing that the 
 preacher was Dr. Pusey. 
 
 "He writes in 1863 : 'Trouble yourself as little as you 
 can about the unbelief of others, except to pray for them : 
 the rather as you know, at least of many, that in their un- 
 conscious hearts they really beheve a great deal more than , 
 they seem to do, or are distinctly aware of themselves. 
 Where should we be, if we let our devotions be interrupted 
 here because people are imperfect in the doctrine of the 
 Sacraments, and there, because they pray, as they do, to 
 the B.V.M. ?' Very seldom, indeed, are such strong convic- 
 tions as he possessed, such zeal and earnestness in contend- 
 ing for the Faith, tempered by humility and love like his. 
 His own words, ' Self-distrust is a temper so suitable to us 
 and our condition, that whatever course implies most of it, 
 has so far a presumption in its favour,' express well the tone 
 of his mind, the feeling which shewed itself in every daily 
 action, and which was undisturbed by any heat of contro- 
 versy. Yet the idea of the meek hermit poet which seems 
 generally to prevail, is not altogether a true one. It is hard 
 to describe the eager youthful energy, the strong indigna- 
 tion and resentment at wrong, especially at anything which 
 threatened to touch the sacred deposit of truth, that mingled 
 with his gentleness and humility. If anything of the sort 
 was said before him, his whole countenance changed, and 
 he looked for a moment as if he would annihilate the 
 speaker. Once when speaking eagerly of something of the 
 sort which had angered him, his eyes sparkling and flashing 
 as they used at such times, he suddenly turned to a young 
 
6i2 Appendix. 
 
 girl who stood . near him, his whole manner changing to 
 a tender playfulness, as he just said, ' I hope I shan't bite 
 you^ then returned to the subject which occupied him. It 
 was remarkable that badness always seemed to him stupidity, 
 he never seemed to be able to perceive the cleverness of 
 wickedness; of even able things written in a bad spirit he 
 constantly remarked, ' I cannot think how people can be 
 so stupid.' 
 
 " Mr. Keble's power of fasting was very great, and for 
 many years his own habit was to take no food on Fridays 
 until evening ; even after he was past seventy he scarcely 
 took more on fast-days than a slight meal in the evening. 
 But to others, especially in cases of delicate health, he 
 was very lenient in this matter. He writes to one (in 
 i860), 'If those whom His Providence has made judges 
 over you in such matters say. This is more than you are 
 able to bear ; I conceive you are to conclude that He has 
 not laid this upon you. I remember the place in Mr. Bon- 
 nell '', but you will observe he does not there (unless I mis- 
 take) disregard the direction of the Doctor, but his own 
 feelings : " God says, ' Fast,' and I will fast, though it seems 
 to interfere with my prayers : but ! that it may not so 
 interfere." Is' not this his meaning ? But this is not your 
 case, I believe. No doubt we often read in boolcs of holy 
 men purposely spending themselves contrary to medical 
 directions : but I imagine that in most cases either it was 
 for some definite work, as when a man devotes himself in 
 battle ; or the wisdom of it might be questionable.' 
 
 " He always received the Holy Communion fasting, 
 although teaching every Sunday morning at the school, 
 and generally preaching; but this also he was careful not 
 to advise others to do unless in strong health. In a letter 
 
 •> " Meditations of James Bonnell, Esq.," on tlie List of the Christian 
 Knowledge Society. 
 
Appendix^ 613 
 
 in 1863 he writes, ' I will not say positively, but I almost 
 think that it may be better to make up your mind to even- 
 mg communion occasionally than to remain so very long 
 absent. You may perhaps be able to order matters so as 
 not to break the Church's rule about abstinence further 
 than so many are obliged to do for health, e.g. you may 
 
 eat some breakfast and shirk the dinner. Mr. told 
 
 me once that he was obliged to do something of the kind 
 m regard of mid-day (which were really afternoon) com- 
 munions.' 
 
 " For himself, until his illness in 1864, there were weeks 
 now and then when between fast-days and public and pri- 
 vate celebrations there was not more than one day on which 
 he took any food until the middle of the day. 
 
 " Old age brought no relaxation of work to him. Mrs. 
 Keble's letters, after he was past seventy, continually men- 
 tion his engrossing occupations, generally with thankfulness 
 that he was still able for work. She writes in March, 1863, 
 of his having been ' particularly well this winter, scarcely 
 having had his usual amount of hoarseness, so that he has 
 been able to work on at home and out, through rain and 
 sunshine, without let or hindrance, and people have been 
 fain to remark upon his good looks. If it should please 
 God that I should weather this attack, I shall rejoice that 
 I have not been the cause of his leaving his work here 
 this winter. It has been a busy time preparing for a Con- 
 firmation, which is to be on Sunday next ; and besides this 
 the Wilson work has kept him fully occupied in his leisure 
 hours, so that a sentence of exile would have been a ter- 
 rible one in that aspect, however beneficial in the lower 
 one. I don't believe the dear husband would ever enjoy 
 being abroad thoroughly : he could never be content with- 
 out plenty of work.' In December, 1863, Mrs. Keble 
 writes, ' I gave Lady a little specimen of Ins day's 
 
6 14 Appendix. 
 
 work yesterday, and I am not sure that it did not make 
 her almost wish I were ailing enough to oblige him to 
 go away, but (D.G.) he is well and up to his work, and 
 most evenings, from 9 to 10 (now we are alone) we get 
 a little quiet reading, which is a great treat, only sometimes 
 he is so honestly sleepy that it is cruel to let him go on. 
 Again in that year : ' Our commemoration was kept on 
 St. Simon and St. Jude : fifteen years now we have had 
 the blessing of this dear church in its present aspect. I 
 have been amusing myself lately with doing little pen and 
 ink sketches of it from the drawing-room window, which 
 puts me in mind to tell you that my husband was so good 
 as to victimise himself in the summer for me, and give 
 Richmond three sittings, the result of which was a crayon 
 head, of which Miss Richmond told me afterwards that her 
 father considered it one of his best. He certainly did seem 
 charmed to have that head once more before him.' 
 
 " This was his last year of health. In February, 1864, 
 his wife writes of ' how much he has on his hands, and far, 
 far more on his mind ;' but the grief and anxiety caused 
 by the decision of the Privy Council in that spring only 
 seemed to make him work harder than ever. During that 
 summer he used often to fall asleep for a few moments in 
 the middle of the day with his pen in his hand ; the over- 
 strain ended in the stroke (on St. Andrew's Day, 1864) 
 which was the beginning of the end. Still, all through that 
 summer, the happy home-hfe went on, though overclouded 
 by Mrs. Keble's increasing weakness. A friend who was 
 staying there in August wrote, ' I wish I could give you 
 an idea of the loveliness of everytiiing when we came out 
 of church at 8 o'clock this moning, the sun lighting up the 
 flower-beds, which are each a jewel in that garden, the birds 
 feeding amongst them, the clematis hanging over the ter- 
 race-wall, all the natural beauty of that most lovely and 
 
Appendix. 615 
 
 poetical spot glowing besides in the light which associa- 
 tions always throw around it. We went in through the 
 garden window to Mrs. Keble, who had not been well 
 enough to go to church, and just then the Vicar and the 
 Bishop passed, the former looking like what one can ima- 
 gine of George Herbert, in his cassock, trencher-cap, and 
 white hair. Ah ! even as I write comes the thought. Will 
 the days ever be when we shall look back on such times as 
 these, and long for all which can never come again ? when 
 the place, the flowers, the sunshine shall be the same, and 
 we shall hardly bear to look upon them?' Those who 
 were much at Hursley during that summer will remember 
 Mr. Keble's interest in the Apologia, and also his exceeding 
 distress and even anger when the last number (I think) 
 reached him. He writes, June 15, 1864, 'We shall see 
 you soon, I dare say; and in the meantime I will just 
 thank you for the little mention of my dear friend's book, 
 w""" (mention) was a comfort to me in some respects : for 
 I thought the book so very engaging, I did not know what 
 might come of it. In argument it seems to me to leave 
 things on the whole where they were, or rather (of the two) 
 to damage the cause of Modern Rome, — I mean especially 
 as concerns the dogma of 1854. The very title (putting 
 a date to an Article of the Faith) seems to me to dis- 
 allow it' Mrs. Keble writes in October of their having 
 had ' a large and engrossing party the last few weeks, now 
 we are reduced to ourselves and servants, and, alas ! this 
 evening I shall be reduced to less than half, for in spite of 
 its being our wedding-day, he has to go to Bristol to be 
 ready for the discussion about Synods to-morrow at the 
 Congress.' And in her last note a few days before his 
 attack she says, ' My husband talked of writing to thank 
 tut when will he have time? I fear he will have 
 
6i6 Appendix. 
 
 to go to London again next week, — I ought not to say 
 fear, for he must work while he can, and people don't seem 
 too eager to contend for the Faith.' Even after his ill- 
 ness, restoration in order that he might work seemed always 
 to be in the minds of both husband and wife. She writes 
 from Penzance in January, 1865 : 'We have had much 
 stormy weather, but it has no otherwise interfered with 
 my husband's progress than hindering his walks by the 
 sea. He has improved greatly in his looks since we have 
 been here; indeed, I think you would not observe much 
 difference, except that seven weeks of such quiescent life 
 have made his movements less active j he still lives by rule 
 as to diet, and not using his head, though he dips into 
 books rather more. The Doctors cannot relax their rule 
 yet ; if they did, I believe he would be obliged to enforce 
 it on himself, as he would do too much in the first day ; 
 still we have the hope that if there is work for him to do, 
 he may be restored to do it.' At Easter she writes : ' We 
 were both at the whole morning service. One could not 
 but think that there must have been a sharp trial in taking 
 no part in the ministering, for the first time on that day 
 since he has been in Orders.' 
 
 "Then came the last return, in that spring of 1865, to 
 Hursley, and the summer months, so mournful, yet so pre- 
 cious, to his parisTiioners and friends. He had almost en- 
 tirely recovered his looks, so that those who saw him during 
 that summer for the first time since his illness, scarcely per- 
 ceived any change in his face, and tried to hope against 
 hope that years might yet be added to his precious life. 
 Yet watching him they knew that he could not long bear 
 the strain of anxiety and grief on Mrs. Keble's account j 
 and that each of the terrible attacks from which she suf- 
 fered, told on him almost as much as on her. He never 
 
Appendix. 617 
 
 preached again, but often took some small part in the ser- 
 vices, and occasionally celebrated and catechised. His last 
 public pastoral teaching was on the seventeenth Sunday- 
 after Trinity (October 8), 1865, when he catechised his 
 school children at the Afternoon 'Service on the Lord's ■ 
 Prayejr, and ' thou art not able to do thesg things of thy- 
 self;' he taught them by the simile of a little child carried 
 in its mother's arms, and continued, 'even after it is set 
 down to walk, can it do so by itself?' 'must it not be held 
 by the hand and helped?' 'Is there anything in to-day's 
 Collect that teaches the same doctrine ?' ' Then if His grace 
 njust go before us, could we have put ourselves in a state 
 of salvation, or can we save ourselves?' 'But what is there 
 that we can do to ourselves which is very fearful to think 
 of?' ' Yes, destroy ourselves ; and therefore St. Paul, writing 
 to those whom he seems to have specially loved, bid them 
 work out their own salvation, not only with hope and 
 cheerfulness, but also with fear and trembling ; for the very 
 reason that it is God who worketh in us, and that, where 
 He is, there should be a trembling awe and fear lest we 
 should use the power of free-will which He has given us to 
 destroy His work, and ourselves °.' 
 
 " He had celebrated, for the last time in church, at 
 7 o'clock that morning. A friend dined and spent the 
 evening there ; he always liked, if he could, to have some 
 one to dine with him on Sundays. He left Hursley on the 
 following Wednesday before the hour for morning service, 
 but he had been in his accustomed place in church for the 
 last time on the previous day, October 10 (his wedding-day), 
 and read the Second Lesson in the morning, the last words 
 of which were these : 'For the Son of Man is as a man 
 
 ° Written at the time. 
 
6i8 Appendix. 
 
 taking a far journey, who left his house, and gave authority 
 to his servants, and to every man his work, and commanded 
 the porter to watch. Watch ye therefore : for ye know not 
 when the master of the house cometh, at even, or at mid- 
 night, or at the cock-crowing, or in the morning. Lest 
 coming suddeniy he find you sleeping. And what I say 
 unto you I say unto all. Watch.' " 
 
 M. T. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 Absolution, when to use the special 
 / form, 6io. 
 
 Acland, Arthur, 128. 
 
 iEschylus, Prom. Vinct. cited, 403. 
 
 Agrarian Riots,, a fruit of 43rd Eliz., 191. 
 
 Allen, Archd., letter on J. Keble, 569. 
 
 Ampfield Church, and Well, 283-5. 
 
 Andrewes, Bp., his Devotions referred 
 to, 296. 
 
 Arnold, Matthew, Poetry Professor at 
 Oxford, 211, 267. 
 
 Arnold, Thomas, Scholar of Corpus 
 Christi, 18 ; letter to Sir J. T. Cole- 
 ridge,42, 266 ; visits Keble from Lale- 
 ham, 132 ; Head-master at Rugby, 
 edits Thucydides, 183 ; and J. Keble, 
 263 — 269. 
 
 Ashburton, Lord, see Baring. 
 
 Augustine, St., the "Confessions" re- 
 ferred to, 330. 
 
 Awdry, Sir John, at Hursley, 133. 
 
 Bagot, Bp., Keble dedicates his version 
 
 of the Psalter to him, 257. 
 Baker, Mr., Curate of Pitt, 446. 
 Baring, Mr., a pupil of J. Keble, 75, 79. 
 Barrington, Bp., 14. 
 Barrow, Dr., Principal of St. Edm. Hall, 
 
 Oxford, 455. 
 Barter, Rev. R. S., Warden of Win- 
 chester College, 125. 
 Bartholomew, John, of Corpus Christi, 
 
 19. 
 Basil, St., on Tradition, 247. 
 Benson, Mr., author of the term "Trac- 
 
 tarian," 276 ; Sermon at the Temple 
 
 Church, ih. 
 Bernard, St., reference to his Sermons 
 
 on the Advent, 538. 
 Bernard, Sir Thomas, " Comforts of Old 
 
 Age," 99* 
 
 Bible, Commentary on part of, under- 
 taken by J. Keble, 491, 556. 
 
 Binney, Horace, 420. 
 
 Bliss, Rev. W., letter to, on Sidmouth, 
 30 ; on authorship of the Christian 
 Year, 166. 
 
 Eonnell, Mr., reference to the Life of, 
 141. 
 
 Bournemouth, Keble's visit to, 530 ; re- 
 turn to, 336. 
 
 Boyes, Rev. B,, Rector of East Leach, 
 64. 
 
 Bridges, Sir Brook W., letter to, 346. 
 
 Brotherhood, religious, rules submitted 
 to J. Keble, 332, 
 
 Brydges, T., mathematical tutor to 
 Keble, 47. 
 
 Burthorpe, Keble curate of, 61. 
 
 Butterfield, Wm., gives design for a 
 Keble memorial window at Ampfield, 
 285 ; designs a memorial to Mr. Keble, 
 SSi. 
 
 Capetown, Bp. of, case of Long -uerszis, 
 
 498. 
 Cardwell, E., examining master, 1814, 
 
 Carey, Bp., 30. • 
 
 Carter, Mr., architect at Winchester, 283. 
 Catechizing, a specimen of J. Keble's 
 
 method, 572, 594. 
 Child, a, letters on the death of, 82, 
 
 324- 
 
 Children, how to examine them, 570. 
 
 Christian Year, progress and publica- 
 tion of, 61, 102, 117, 122, 131, 152. 
 
 second edition of, 175 ; summary 
 
 of the publisher's account, 155; re- 
 marks on its success, 159 sqq. ; the 
 dedication, 122, 165 ; verses for Good 
 Friday cited, 560. 
 
620 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Church and State, the limits of their al- 
 liance examined by Keble, 151. 
 
 ■ authority, where to be found, 439. 
 
 of England, a layman's testimony 
 
 to it, 373. 
 
 discipline and doctrine, 485. 
 
 ■ in Wales, Scotland, and Carlisle, 
 
 361, 363. 364- 
 
 of Rome, J. Keble's views on, 372, 
 
 426. 
 
 the, supposed by the Christian 
 
 Year to be in a state of decay, 167-. 
 
 Churcher, J., a servant of J. Keble, 243. 
 
 Churton, Mr., his illness, 1828, 183. 
 
 Clarke, Charlotte, 184 ; J. Keble's future 
 wife, 236. 
 
 Clarke, Mrs., at Lyme, 184. 
 
 Colenso, J. W., Bp. of Natal, J. Keble's 
 letter on the "Colenso Judgment," 
 5x8, 540. 
 
 Coleridge, Rev. J. D., his death, 444. 
 
 Coleridge, Sir J. D., and the Abolition 
 of Tests Bill, 527'; letter on J. Keble, 
 583. 
 
 Coleridge, Sir J. T., letter to Keble, 46. 
 
 W. Hart, Bp. of Barbados, 113. 
 
 Coin, St. Aldwin's, the benefice of J. 
 Keble's father, 7, 108. 
 
 Confession in the Church of England, 
 302, 312, 545- 
 
 Confirmation at Hursley, J. Keble's pre- 
 paration of Candidates, 510, 521, 593, 
 609. 
 
 Cooke, George Leigh, tutor of Corpus 
 Christi College, Oxford, 16; tutor to 
 Keble, 47. • 
 
 Copleston, Kdw., Provost of Oriel, zo, 54, 
 77, 176. 
 
 Cornish, G. J., Scholar of C.C.C., x8; 
 sketch of his life, 29, 30 ; author of 
 poem to the Redbreast in the Chris- 
 tian Year, 31 ; extracts from poems 
 of, 32, 33 ; his marriage, 88 ; his death, 
 369 ; death of his married daughter, 
 448. 
 
 Cornish, Mrs. George, visited by Keble, 
 416, 
 
 Corpus Christ! College, Oxford, 9, zo. 
 
 Creweian Oration, by J. Keble. 2839, 
 translation of the peroration, a6o 
 
 Darnell, Mr., tutor of C. C. C, after- 
 wards Rector of Stanhope, 14. 
 
 Davison, John, 54 ; leaves Oriel, 74 ; at 
 Washington, 98 ; revises the Chris- 
 tian Year, 120, 153 ; publicadon of 
 his "Remains," 267. 
 
 Denison, Archdeacon, proceedings a- 
 gainst him, 423, 438. 
 
 Divorce, J. Keble on the Divorce Bill of 
 ^857* 432. 
 
 Dogmersfield, C. Dyson Rector of, 46- 
 
 Dyce, Mr,, R.A,, gives a design for 
 stained glass windows at Hursley, 349. 
 
 Dyson, C, friend of Keble at C. C. C, 
 ig, 74 ; sketch of his life, 35 — 46 ; at 
 Nunbumholme, 99 ; letters to Sir J. 
 T. Coleridge, 146, 245 ; his death, 464, 
 
 Dyson, Jeremiah, satirized by H. Wal- 
 pole, 36. 
 
 Dyson, Mrs., 509. 
 
 Ecce Homo, J. Keble's remarks on that 
 book, SSI. 
 
 Ellison, Nathaniel, 41. 
 
 Ellison, Noel T., friend of Keble at 
 C. C. C, 19, 41 ; at Wlialton, 98 ; his 
 death, 447. 
 
 Emigrants, J. Keble emyloyed on a ser- 
 vice for their voyage, 416, 419. 
 
 ** Essays and Reviews" case, 48s. 
 
 Eucharistical Adoration, publication of 
 pamphlet on, 437. 
 
 Euripides, translation oi Alcestts, 231. 
 
 Eveleigh, Dr., Provost of Oriel, 1806, 13. 
 
 Faber, F. A., introduces J. Keble to 
 W. Wordsworth, 259. 
 
 Fairford, Keble's birthplace, s : he re- 
 turns to it from HurSley, 14s. 
 
 Fasting, letter on, by J. Keble, 149 ; 
 some rules for, 613. 
 
 Fathers, Library of the, 26a. 
 
 Fielding, Mr., gives a design for stained- 
 glass windows at Hursley, 349. 
 
 FitzWalter, Lord, see Bridges. 
 
 Forbes, Bishop, and the Scot^sh Con- 
 troversy, 450, 457. 
 
 Forbes, Mr., of Medwyn, Mr. Keble 
 visits, 458. 
 
 Freeman, Archdeacon 43a 
 
INDEX. 
 
 621 
 
 Fremantle, Mr. , pupil of J. Keble, 75, 79. 
 
 Froude, Hurrell, residence with Keble 
 at Southrop, no ; sketch of his cha- 
 racter, III ; his "Remains," 248 ; sketch 
 of his life, 252 ; Keble's share in editing 
 the ** Remains," 253. 
 
 Gaussen, Mr., a pupil of J. K^ble, 54. 
 
 Grenville, Lord, Chancellor of the Uni- 
 versity of Oxford, founder of the Latin 
 Essay prize, his presentation of books 
 to Keble, 49. 
 
 Hallam, Henry, on the three disputed 
 books of Hooker, ig6, ig8. 
 
 Hampden, Dr., letter on his appoint- 
 ment at Oxford, 242 ; Bishop of Here- 
 ford, 352. 
 
 Harrison, Mn, Architect of Hursley 
 Church, 288. 
 
 Hatsell, Mr., 36. 
 
 Hawkins, Dr., Provost of Oriel, 17S — 180. 
 
 Heathcote, Archdeacon, Incumbent of 
 Otterboume and Hursley, 123 ; his 
 death, 187. 
 
 Heathcote, Gilbert Wall, Vicar of Hurs- 
 ■ ley, 188. 
 
 Heathcote, SirW., introduced to J.Keble, 
 79 ; recommends Keble to the curacy 
 of Hursley, 123 ; at Hursley, 1825, 
 131 ; gives vicarage-house at Hursley, 
 123 ; at Ampfield, 285 ; completes tower 
 and spire of Hursley Church, 351, 
 
 Heber, Bishop, Keble introduced to him 
 at Oxford, 94. 
 
 Hedgeland, Mr., of Penzance, 493 ; his 
 letter to the *' Guardian," 495. 
 
 Herbert, George, the "Temple "referred 
 
 to, 173- 
 
 Hooker, Richard, Keble edits his works, 
 192 — Z04. 
 
 Howley, Abp., criticism on the Oxford 
 Psalter, 257. 
 
 Hursley, Keble curate of, 123, 130; the 
 Vicarage offered to and declined by 
 Keble, 187 ; G. W. Heathcote, Vicar, 
 188 ; Keble, Vicar of, 239 ; Church at, 
 287 ; stained-glass windows at, 347. 
 
 India House Examinations, Keble ap- 
 pointed examiner, 188. 
 
 Irenaeus, St., translated by J. Keble, 265. 
 Isle of Man, visited by Keble, 367. 
 
 Jackson, Bishop, ordwns Keble, 59, 
 Jersey, Mr. and Mrs. Keble visit St 
 
 Brelade, 337. 
 Jews, their example as a nationi 151, 
 
 219, 225. 
 
 Keble, John, birth of, s; verses on 
 leaving C.C.C, 20 ; passed his Final 
 Examination, 1810, 47 ; elected Proba- 
 tionary Fellow of Oriel, 1811,48; prizes 
 won by, 49 ; verses on Sidmouth, 52, 
 S3 ; Examining Master, 1814, 55 ; 1835, 
 230; Deacon, 1815, 59; Priest, 1816, 
 ft^. ; Examiner in Final Schools, 70, 
 102 ; Examiner in Responsions, 1817, 
 70; appointed tutor at Oriel, 1817, 72; 
 verses on a monument in Lichfield Ca- 
 thedral, 98 ; resigns tutorship at Oriel, 
 1823, 103 ; verses on a deceased sister, 
 105, 143 ; a present of plate given to him, 
 109; offeredArchdeaconry of Barbados, 
 114 ; study of the Fathers, 150 ; conside- 
 ration of questions of Church and State, 
 151 ; finishes ^^Christian Year, 152; 
 Examiner at the India House, 188 ; re- 
 fuses living of Paignton, 205 ; Poetry 
 Professor, 206 — 217 ; Sermon on Na- 
 tional Apostasy, 218 ; contributes to the 
 " Tracts for the Times," 220, 224 ; esti- 
 mate of the Fathers, 222, 227 ; pub- 
 lishes the Oxford Psalter, 255 ; de- 
 livers Creweian Oration, 258 ; the " Li- 
 brary of the Fathers," 262 ; part taken 
 with regard to " Tract 90," 271 ; reli- 
 gious difficulties, 296 sqq. ; verses on the 
 Annundation, 316 ; publishes thcL^ra 
 Intwcentium, 1846, 321 ; verees on guar- 
 dian angels, 325, 326 ; publishes Aca- 
 demical and Occasional Sermons, 340; 
 Letter on Representation of the Uni- 
 versity, 346 ; visit to North Wales, 
 360; Tour in Scotland, 315, 363; 
 the " Library of Anglo-Cathohc Theo- 
 logy," 366 ; visits Sidmouth, Lyme Re- 
 gis, and Heath's Coiut, 370 ; verses on 
 hedge-flowers, 418 ; Argtmtent oti Di- 
 vorce Bill, 432 ; Work on Ettcharis^ 
 
622 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Heal Adoration, ^27 '' Considerations 
 suggested by a late Pastoral Letter^ 
 451 ; thinks of resigning Hursley, 470, 
 497 ; Commentary on the Bible, 491 ; 
 On the Suhscription and Oaths of the 
 Clergy, 505; illness, 51B, 557; the 
 Oxford Election, 516 ; the Colenso 
 Judgment, 518 ; Address to the Newly • 
 confirmed at Hursley, 521 ; Letter on 
 Ritual^ 541 ; death, 559 ; burial, 561 ; 
 memorial to him, ih. ; character of as 
 a Parish Priest, 567. 
 
 Keble, John, letter to Miss Baker, 324. 
 
 — ■ Letter to Mrs. Billamore, gi. 
 
 Letter to W. Bliss, 50. 
 
 Letters to Sir J. T. Coleridge, 
 
 26, s6 — S9» 62, 6^f 70 — 72, 80, 82, 85, 
 88, 89, 93, 103, 114, 117, 131, 134, 137, 
 153, 164, 176, 180, 199, 220, 235, 237, 
 246, 247, 250, 272, 290, 292, 299, 307, 
 334» 376, 413, 4171 43S» 448, 473* 5^5, 
 525. 535, 54S> 547-52. 
 
 - Letters to G. Cornish, 6, 24, 
 
 60, loi, 119, 149, 237, 247, 265, 368. 
 Letters to C. Dyson, 28, 31, 
 
 39* 85, 94, 99, 104, 115, 118, 147, 164, 
 177, 193, 200, 219, 238, 308, 412. 
 Letters to H. Froude, 121, 
 
 139, 178, 187, 201. 
 Letters to Sir W. Heathcote, 
 
 229. 
 
 - Letter to Mr. Hedgeland, 494. 
 
 - Letter to Elis. Keble, 14. 
 
 - Letter to T. Keble, 234. 
 
 - Letter to Miss Mackenzie, 554. 
 
 - Letter to Mr. Pruen, 122. 
 
 - Letters to Mr. Richards, 220, 
 
 - Letter to S. Walker, 172. 
 
 - Letters to R. F. Wilson, 407, 
 
 425- 
 
 Letters on his approaching 
 
 marriage and settlement at Hursley, 
 237, 241. 
 
 Keble, John, sen., Vicar of Coin St. Aid- 
 win, 7 ; death of, 239. 
 
 Keble, Josepji and Richard, ancestors of 
 J. Keble, 4. 
 
 Keble, Mary Anne, John Keble's sister, 
 103, 104 ; her death, 137. 
 
 Keble, Sarah, mother of John Keble, her 
 
 death, X03- 
 Keble, Sarah, John Keble's sister, her 
 
 death, $6. 
 Keble, Charlotte, letter to Elis. Keble, 
 
 242 ; wife of John Keble, her illness, 
 
 473* 529* 546 sqq.; her death, 580; 
 
 her character, 581. 
 Keble, Elisabeth, eldest sister of John 
 
 Keble, 14; her illness, 55, 62, 136; 
 
 Jetter on her father's last illness, 229 ; 
 
 her death, 457. 
 Keble, Thomas, his illness, 85 ; curate 
 
 of Burthotp and Soathrop, X30. 
 Keble, Thomas, jun., 189 ; his marriage, 
 
 369- 
 Keble College, Oxford, xv. ; see Oxford. 
 Knox, Alex., letter on his "Remains," 
 
 250. 
 
 Leach, East, Keble curate of, 61, 109. 
 Le Geyt, Mr., assistant curate of Hurs- 
 
 ley, 435- 
 Lichfield, Keble's visit to, and verses on 
 
 a monument in the Cathedral, 98. 
 Lincoln, Keble visits it, 100. 
 Lloyd, Bp., Keble's respect for him, 152. 
 "Long V. Capetown," Keble's opinion 
 
 of the dedsion, 498. 
 Lymington and Lyndhuist, Keble visits 
 
 them, 6. 
 Lyra Innocentium, its publication, 290 
 
 — 321- 
 
 Mackeime, Bishop, 551, 554. 
 Magdalen College, Oxford, gives a site 
 
 for Otterbourne new church, 282. 
 Malthus, Keble's opinion of him, 191. 
 Malvern, visited by Keble, 101. 
 Markland, J. H., 265. 
 Marriage with deceased wife's ^ter, 
 
 37 1» 435* 
 Marriott, C, Fellow of Oriel College, his 
 
 share in editing the "Library of the 
 
 Fathers," 264 ; his scheme for a Poor 
 
 Men's College, 333. 
 Matrimony, Holy, tract on, 226. 
 Maule, Sarah, mother of John Keble, 7. 
 Meditation, a method of, 607. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 623 
 
 Medley, John, Bishop of Fredericton, 
 
 37S. 
 
 Miller, John, friend of J. Keble, 23 ; 
 his death, 25 ; works, 25, 26 ; at Brock- 
 leton, loi ; volume of sermons, igo ; 
 suggests the Tract on the Sunday Les- 
 sons, 225; his "Christian Guide" re- 
 ferred to, 321. 
 
 Milman, H. H., Dean of St. Paul's, Uni- 
 versity prizes won by, 49. 
 
 Milton, John, Keble's judgment of, 67-9. 
 
 Moberly, Dr., Head Master of St. Mary 
 Winton College, 125. 
 
 Mormonites, the, 592. 
 
 Naang, C. Dyson's benefice, 38. 
 
 Newman, Dr., visits Keble at Hursley, 
 248: edition of the *' Library of the 
 Fathers," 262; and "Tract go," 271 — 
 280 ; letter on bis meeting Dr. Pusey 
 at Hursley Vicarage, 1865, 531 ; the 
 Apologia^ 615. 
 
 Norris, Mr,, of Hackney, 244. 
 
 Nun Bumholme, C. Dyson's benefice, 
 38 ; visited by J, Keble, 99. 
 
 Ordination, thoughts on, 57, 60. 
 
 Oriel College in 1818, 77 ; letters from 
 Keble on the Provostship, 1827, 8, 
 lyg — 181 ; Statutes examined by New- 
 man, 248; tesUmonial presented to J. 
 Keble, log ; Provostship election, 176. 
 
 Otterboume Rectory, building of new 
 church and parsonage, 281 sqq* 
 
 Oxford University ^0os, 397. 
 
 Poetry Professorship, 206 ; Assize 
 
 Sermon preached by Keble, 1833, 218 ; 
 University Reform Bill, 383 ; Local ex- 
 aminations, 467. 
 
 ^-. Reform Bill, 383 sqq» 
 
 _ ■ — Private Halls, 386. 
 
 Keble College at, 403. 
 
 . Local examinations, 471. 
 
 , University, contemplated changes 
 
 at, 549- 
 _ election contest, 1865, 517, 
 
 527- 
 
 Oxford Psalter, the, 256 sqq. 
 
 Paignton, presentation to the living de- 
 clined by J. Keble, 205. 
 
 Patteson, Sir John, 82 ; death of his 
 
 wife, 84 ; his death, 467. 
 - — — - John Coleridge, Bishop of Mela- 
 nesia, 467. 
 Peel, Sir Robert, resigns his seat for 
 
 Oxford, 185. • 
 
 Pennington, Mr., 75. 
 Penrose, T., 19, 103. 
 Penzance, J. Keble winters at, 475 ; his 
 
 ministrations at, 493, 500. 
 Pitt, a hamlet of Hursley, 286 ; school 
 
 chapel built there, 445. 
 Plumer, Charles, at Hursley, 133. 
 Poetry, J. Keble's theory of, 121. 
 Prcslectiones Academtcee, 206 — 217; an 
 
 oflFer of translating them received by 
 
 J. Keble, S47- 
 Privy Council, Judicial Conimittee of, 
 
 483. 
 Pruen, Mr., Curate of Fladbury, 89. 
 Puritanism, its growth in England, 1828, 
 
 185. 
 Pusey, Dr., one of the editors of the 
 
 "Library of the Fathers," 262. 
 
 Quakers, note on the literary Remains 
 of a deceased convert, 149. 
 
 Reed, Professor, 417, 420. 
 Richmond, George, R.A., gives design 
 for stained'glass windows at Hursley, 
 
 349- 
 
 Ritual, J. Keble's letter on, 542. 
 
 Robertson, F. W., remarks on his bio- 
 graphy, S5I. 
 
 Robertson, Mrs., 551, 554- 
 
 Rogers, Sir F., requests J. Keble to 
 compose Services for Emigrants, 419. 
 
 RoUeston, Mr., English Verse Prize 
 gained by, 1808, 15. 
 
 Sainsbury, Dr., of Romsey, 530. 
 Scotland, Keble's tour in, 363. 
 Scriptures, J. Keble's manner of reading 
 
 the, 577, 604. 
 Selwyn, Bishop, at Hursley, 409. 
 Sermons, parochial, by J. Keble, 453, 
 
 465- 
 Shairp, Professor, note on his Essay on 
 Mr. Keble, 156. 
 
624 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Sidmouth, Keble receives pupils there^ 
 49 ; description of the scenery, 50, 51. 
 
 Smith, StafFord, Rector of Fladbury, 
 Keble's godfather, 8, 90. 
 
 Southey, Robert, his opinion of J. Mil- 
 ler's Sermon, 26 ; Keble introduced to 
 him, 93 ; letter to Neville White, gj ; 
 " Colloquies" suggest a form for a new 
 edition of Keble's Prtel^cHoneSf 215. 
 
 Southey, Dr., 306. 
 
 Southrop, Keble curate at, zo8> 
 
 Stanley, A. P., Dean of Westminster, 
 extract from his Life of Thos. Arnold, 
 10. 
 
 Subscription and Oaths of the Clergy, 
 507. 
 
 Sumner, Charles, Bishop of Winchester, 
 applied to to Ucense the Oxford Psal- 
 ter in his diocese, 256. 
 
 Sunday Lessons, on the Principle of 
 Selection, 225. 
 
 Switzerland, visited by Keble, 435. 
 
 Taylor, Jeremy, Keble's judgment of, 
 67-9. 
 
 Torquay, Keble's stay at, 499. 
 
 "Tracts for the Times," their publication 
 and effect, 220, 228 ; " Tract 90," 270 
 — 280. 
 
 '*Tractarians," when first so named, 276. 
 
 Tradition, Sermon on, 246. 
 
 Troyte, A., at Hursley, 129 ; see Ac- 
 land, A. 
 
 Tucker, J., a friend of J. Keble at 
 C.C.C, 19 ; at Lenham, 121 ; at Hurs- 
 ley, 133- 
 
 Turner, W. H., a friend of J. Keble at 
 C.C.C., 19. 
 
 Tyacke, Mr., of Penzance, 502. 
 
 Tyler, Mr., of Oriel, 88. 
 
 Vows, letter on, by J. Keble, isa 
 
 Wailes, Mr., memoria window to J. 
 
 Keble designed by Wm. Butter- 
 > field, Esq., 285 ; executes the Hursley 
 
 windows, 349, 
 Wales, J. Keble's tour in, 361. 
 Walker, Rev. Samuel, letter to, from 
 
 J. Keble, 172. 
 Washington, J. Davison, incumbent of, 
 
 98. 
 
 Westerton and Liddell case decided, 428. 
 
 Whalton, Keble's visit to Ellison at, 98. 
 
 Whitby, visited by Keble, 456. 
 
 White, Mr., of Ampfield, 28s. 
 
 Wilberforce, R. W., residence with Keble 
 at Southrop, no; his treatise on the 
 Holy Eucharist, 379 ; his secession to 
 the Church of Rome, 414. 
 
 Williams, Isaac, residence with J. Keble 
 at Southrop, no ; the Poetry Profes- 
 sorship, 274. 
 
 Wilson, R. F., J, Keble's first assistant 
 curate, 285 ; first incumbent of Amp- 
 field, 359, 363. 
 
 Wilson, Thomas, Bishop of Sodor and 
 Man, his Life by Keble, 367, 463, 482. 
 
 Winchester, Sermon at the Archdeacon's 
 visitation preached by J . Keble, 246. 
 
 Wordsworth, W., J. Keble's acquaint- 
 ance with his poems, 18 ; his admira- 
 tion of the Christian Year, reception 
 in the Theatre at Oxford, iS, 259 ; 
 Keble dedicates his Preelectiones to 
 him, 18, 261 : interview with J. Keble, 
 365* 
 
 Yonge, Wm. C., gives the design for the 
 Otterbourne and Ampfield churches, 
 282 ; his death, 381. 
 
 York, city of, visited by J. Keble, 456. 
 
 Young, Peter, assistant curate at Hurs- 
 ley, 314 ; leaves Hursley, 431 sgq. ; 
 his account of Mr. Keble's pastoral 
 work, 509, 587. 
 
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