m mam ■IHHHI |g : «*^tf | LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. $ Shelf yflfti UNITED STATES OF AMERICA "\J~U/YKfi4 James Hannington, D.D., F.L.S., F.R.G.S. FIRST BISHOP OF EASTERN EQUATORIAL AFRICA A HISTORY OF HIS LIFE AND WORK 1847— 1885 y E. C DAWSON, M.A., Oxon. INCUMBENT OF ST. THOMAS'S CHURCH, EDINBURGH M Show me some one person formed according to the principles he professes. Show me one who is sick and happy ; in danger and happy ; dying and happy ; exiled and happy.""— Epictetus a As AUTHOR'S EDITION SECOND AMERICAN FROM THE SIXTH LONDON EDITION NEW YORK ANSON D. F. RANDOLPH & COMPANY 38 WEST TWENTY-THIRD STREET I887 EDWARD 0. JENKINS' SONS, PRINTERS, STEREOTYPERS, ANC ELECTR0TYPER8, 20 NORTH WILLIAM STREET, NEW YORK. TO HIS CHILDREN THIS RECORD OF THEIR FATHER'S LIFE AND WORK IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED. PREFACE. No apology is surely needed for writing the life of James Hannington. If it be true that every life which has been lived conveys to the world some message which should not be lost, much less can we afford to lose the record of a life like his — a devoted life crowned by a heroic death. With regard, however, to my own part in connection with this work, a word or two of explanation may be necessary. It seemed to his relatives and friends to be especially desirable that his Memoir should be entrusted to one who had known him personally and intimately. With- out this knowledge, his biographer must have failed in presenting him in any recognizable form before the pub- lic eye. A mere enumeration of his acts, such as might be easily culled from his diaries, letters, and published articles, or from printed notices regarding him, would convey scarcely any idea at all of the man himself. A verbatim record of his sayings would probably produce an impression utterly false, except to those who knew the speaker and understood the moods in which he ut tered them. The materials of which Bishop Hanning ton was formed were not run into the mould in which ordinary men are shaped. In few things was he just like the majority. Almost everything he said or did was stamped with the impress of his own distinct individual- (v) ^^ vi Preface. ity. That individuality his friends now treasure among their most precious memories. They can never dissoci- ate his words from the tone of the voice which accom- panied them, or from the sly twinkle, or it might be, the impatient flash of the grey eyes which introduced them. They can never think of his acts without recalling the active, energetic figure, so full of life and movement, which carried through with an inimitable enthusiasm of forceful purpose whatever was uppermost in his mind. They would not have had one thing about him different; but his ways were his own, and his words were his own, and nothing would be easier than that a stranger, by separating his words and his ways from himself, should be perfectly accurate in every statement, and yet repre- sent him to the world in a manner which would not only be unsatisfactory, but even misleading and unfair to his memory. When, therefore, his widow requested me to undertake the editorship of his Life and Work, I accepted the re- sponsibility, trusting that my own intimate knowledge of the man might more than compensate for any want of skill which I might display in the treatment of my subject. Perhaps, also, hoping that my own love for him might enable me to make an appreciative study of his remarkable character. It only remains for me to say that, in the compilation of this Memoir, the Bishop's diary has been quoted when- ever it has been possible to give the narrative in his own words. I have also to offer my warmest thanks to the Hon. Secretary of the Church Missionary Society, who has placed the whole of the Bishop's official correspond- ence with the Society at my disposal ; and especially to Mr. Eugene Stock, who has most kindly revised such statements as refer to the history of the Society. . Other Preface. vn friends have also contributed letters and personal rem- iniscences, for which I am grateful. With regard to the illustrations which are scattered throughout the volume, they are all, with one or two ex- ceptions, reduced from the Bishop's own sketches. Some of the pen-and-ink drawings are exact fac-similes ; and even the full-page engravings follow his pencil very closely. The details of the Bishop's death are collated from the different accounts given by those who were either eye-witnesses, or who repeated what had been told to them by those who were present. These accounts slight- ly vary, but they do not contradict each other in any material point. At the very last moment, when this boo 1 had already gone to press, the precious little diary, to the pages of which the Bishop committed his last writings during his imprisonment in Busoga, was most unexpect- edly recovered and sent home. The printing of the book was at once stopped, and the last sixty pages have been rewritten so as to incorporate into them the valuable knowledge thus acquired. Space has not permitted me to enter the whole journal unabridged, but very full ex- tracts have been made from it. I may say, indeed, that nothing which could throw any light, either upon the Bishop's state of mind, or upon the circumstances of his case, has been omitted. I now commit this book to the prayers of God's people. It has been my endeavor, in the pages which follow, to let James Hannington reveal himself as he was, in order that those who did not know him in the flesh may learn the secret of that nature which laid so firm a hold upon the hearts of a large circle of devoted friends, and which seldom failed to leave its deep im- pression upon all those with whom he was associated. iii Preface. My own earnest desire is that the example of his noble self-denial may stir up others to emulation, and brace those who read to follow in his footsteps and to " lay aside every weight, and run with patience the race that is set before them." E. C. D. Edinburgh, Nov., 1886. 1 CONTENTS. PART I. CHAPTER I. PAGE Parentage and Childhood (1847—60) .... 3 CHAPTER II. School-days (1860—62) . . . . . . .17 CHAPTER III. Business and Pleasure (1862 — 67) 21 CHAPTER IV. Emancipation (1867—68) • . 39 CHAPTER V. Life at Oxford (1868 — 69) 46 CHAPTER VI. Martinhoe (1870 — 73) 68 CHAPTER VII. The Turning - Point. — Ordination. — The Great Change (1873—74) 84 CHAPTER VIII. Work at Trentishoe and Darley Abbey (1875) . . 106 CHAPTER IX. St. George's, Hurstpierpoint (1875) . . . .126 CHAPTER X. Home Mission Work and Personal Diary (1875—79) . 144 (is) , Contents. CHAPTER XL Home Mission Work and Personal Diary {continued) PAGE (1879—82) 166 CHAPTER XII. The Beckoning Hand (1878— 82) 192 PART II. CHAPTER XIII. The First Missionary Journey. — Zanzibar to Mpwa pwa (1882) 211 CHAPTER XIV. Mpwapwa to Uyui (1882) 227 CHAPTER XV. Uyui to the Victoria Nyanza (1882) .... 244 CHAPTER XVI. The Lake (1882—83) 263 CHAPTER XVII. Beaten Back (1883) 279 CHAPTER XVIII. The Second Missionary Journey (1883 — 84) . . .303 CHAPTER XIX. Frere Town (1885) 3 21 CHAPTER XX. The Kilima-njaro Expedition.— Visit to Chagga (1885. March, April) 343 CHAPTER XXI. "The Work of a Bishop " (1885. April— June) . 373 CHAPTER XXII. The Last Journey (1885. July— October) . . . 39 6 CHAPTER XXIII. How It Came to Pass 43 8 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. PAGE. Portrait of Bishop Hannington . . . Frontispiece. The Curate's House at Martinhoe .... 92 Pen Sketches of Adventures in Lundy Island . in — 116 St. George's Chapel, Hurstpierpoint . . . .126 Inquisitive Natives 232 Curious Rocks 234 A Village in Central Africa 246 An Awkward Situation 254 Strange Headland, Jordan's Nullah . . . .267 A Night Alarm 274 "Village in Urima, where I was detained by the Natives" 278 Near Makola's Village 284 Pen Sketches of Adventures of Travel in Africa. 285, 286, 292 — 295 The Two Taitas from Maungu 352 klbo and klmawenzi, from taveta .... 358 Mountain Torrent, Marango, Kilima-njaro . . 366 Pen Sketches of a Mangrove Swamp and Hornet's Nest 307, 388 A Masai Warrior (El-Moran) 422 Fac-simile of the Bishop's Sketch of his Prison . 454 Fac-simile of a Page of the Bishop's Diary . . 460 Map. (xi) PART I A JAMES HANNINGTON. CHAPTER I. PARENTAGE AND CHILDHOOD. (1847—60.) " I judge him of a rectified spirit." Ben Jonson. " Ring in the valiant man and free, The larger heart, the kindlier hand ; Ring out the darkness of the land, Ring in the Christ that is to be." In Mejnoriam. There were Hanningtons in England in very early times. Domesday-Book records their existence. Whether my dear old friend, whose too brief life I am now trying to set forth, was directly connected with any of these is likely to remain forever uncertain. Nor does it greatly signify to know. The chief interest of pedigrees to the wise is, surely, to trace by their help the transmission of certain individual characteristics and the development of them. If, therefore, we do not possess a careful record of the lives and characters of a man's ancestors, we can easily dispense with their mere names. Those only are of any real value to us whose persons and deeds, manners and words, throw some light upon the life of the man in whom we are interested, and offer some clue to its unravelment. The tot among the ancestors of James Hannington James Hannington. who steps with any definable form out of the shadows, is his great-grandfather. We find the following refer- ence to him in his Journal : — " About the middle of the eighteenth century my great-grandfather and two broth- ers sailed in a boat from Dover, and came into Shore- ham River to seek their fortunes ; in those days, doubt- less, a very great undertaking. Here my great-grand- father married a lady of high family. She was the last of the ancient stock of the De Meophams, Saxon no- bles in the year 970 A.D., the best known to posterity of whom was Simon De Meopham, sometime Archbishop of Canterbury, whose tomb may be seen in Canterbury Cathedral." Of this Q:reat-o-randfather we wish that more had been recorded, since he seems to have possessed at least one marked characteristic in common with his great-grand- son. The diary continues : — " Almost all that I have heard of him is that he was a man of superhuman strength. On one occasion, passing by where a cart was stuck fast in the mud, and six men unable to move it, he bade them stand clear, and lifted it out by him- self." Like his descendant James, who was always eagerly to the fore in any accident, or upon any occasion when active assistance was required, he evidently could not resist the impulse to step in and bear a hand. After his death, which took place early, the great- grandmother was left with two sons, Charles and Smith Hannington. The elder of these is described as M a man of brilliant talents and inventive genius, but who con- stantly failed in all his undertakings." In fact, his care- less extravagance drained his mother's resources, and made it necessary that his younger brother should be apprenticed to a trade in Brighton. This vouneer brother, the Grandfather of Tames, was Grandfather and Grandson. of different metal : steady, keen, and industrious to a wonderful degree. His grandson writes of him : — " He toiled in a most marvellous manner." In after days the impression left by the old man upon the younger gen- eration, who were often urged to take example by him and to walk in his steps, was that of "a shrewd man of business, who never wanted a holiday, and never thought that other people wanted one. Thoroughly liberal, up- right and religious ; no man more so ; a firm and strict master, greatly loved, but also greatly feared." In which description, in spite of the unlikeness, we cannot but recognize the texture of the stock from which the subject of this biography was hewn. One trait very re- markably characterized both grandfather and grandson, — a devoted attachment to the mother. This mother-love was a controlling influence of great power in the life of James. He can never write of his mother but his pen frames some new term of endearment. She is to him "the gentlest mother, the sweetest, dearest mother that ever lived." If he is in any trouble, " her darling hand " has always power to soothe him. And it is told of the grandfather that, when quite a young man, he had a highly advantageous offer of part- nership from the owner of a large business in the North of England, but he refused it, tempting as it was, because his mother could not accompany him, and he would not leave her alone. Mr. Smith Hannington married a lady of renowned beauty, of which traces remained even in James's time, and by her had five children, the eldest of whom, the father of James, settled in Brighton and carried on the business which had been there commenced. For some time he continued to reside in Brighton, in accordance with the wise old adage too often neglected in these 6 James Hannington. [A.D. 1847— 6a days, " Prepare thy work without, and afterwards build thine house." * There seven children were born, but in the year 1847, j ust before the birth of James, ability and attention to business having produced their usual result, Mr. Charles Smith Hannington purchased the property of St. George's, Hurstpierpoint, which henceforth be- came the home of the family. James Hannington writes: " I was born on the third of September, 1847. The only peculiar circumstance con- nected with my birth was the fact that my father was in Paris at the time. Can this have anything to do with my passionate love of travelling? Because none of my brothers seem thus affected." Hurst, as the inhabitants call it for brevity's sake, is a pretty little village in the south of Sussex. On the side next to Brighton, from which it is distant some eight miles, the horizon is bounded by the wavy line of the high downs. Beyond these, hidden behind their wind- mill-crowned ramparts, is the sea. On the other side lies a wide stretch of fair view — such a view as is pecu- liar to the south of England. Pretty undulating country, well wooded, here and there the warm red of old brick farm-steadings catching the level rays of the setting sun, and glowing into crimson on tall chimney-stalk and tiled roof ridge ; everywhere free flowing curves topped with foliage, melting, in the far distance, into the dim uncer- tainty of broken tree-line. The mansion of St. George's is pleasantly situated near the entrance to the village. It stands within its own large garden and grounds. At the back a glass door opens upon a flight of wide steps descending to the lawn. All around are shrubberies full of deep nooks, * Prov. xxiv. 27. 1 Mt. i— 13.] A Young Naturalist. 7 wherein children may hide and play. Not far off are two lakelets, among the spreading weeds of which, and between the broad lily leaves, myriads of mysterious creatures skim and dart, and send up bubbles to the sur- face from strange and unknown depths. Then, outside the iron railings which bound the lawn, are the fields spangled with golden buttercups, and beyond all stretches the illimitable country that opens out upon the world. A very child's paradise ! Here, there, and everywhere, through this pleasance, went little baby James, with the keenest of inquiring eyes : of that we may be sure. There was no nook in the grounds, from the holly bush where the blackbird had swung that cunning nest of hers with the four mottled eggs in it, to the bank where the humble bee burrled out from some hole behind the broad dock leaves, into which his paddling, sturdy little feet had not taken him. Before long there was no secret of moss or flower or hid- den chrysalis, in garden or shrubbery, that had not been probed by his busy, eager fingers. He was a born nat- uralist. One of the earliest sayings of his, treasured up and recorded by his father, is, "I have just seen a big bird, which could only be a thrush or an eagle ! " To the end of his life he could not resist turning aside to see some strange insect, or to note some new plant, or examine some interesting geological specimen. Of this faculty for observation and interest in that book of Nature, the pages of which are opened wide-spread be- fore him who has eyes to see, we shall find many traces in his letters and journals. "Beetles" and "mosses" always bulked largely in his estimate of the desirability of any spot in which to spend a holiday. His very youthful peccadilloes took their form from this early developed love of "specimens." Other boys j 8 James Hannington. [A.D. 1847 — 60. might steal sugar or jam when the cupboard was by chance left unlocked ; his baby hands itched for the wondrous things behind the glass doors of the library museum. He says, "No portfolio or cabinet was safe from my nasty little fingers." Once it was a rare Baby- lonian seal, at another time a trayful of selected miner- als, which were abstracted, and with much glee hidden away among the miscellaneous articles which formed his peculiar treasure. This tendency to observe and " collect " was both in- herited from and encouraged by that " sweetest, dearest mother," who made a companion of her wayward, erratic little son, and both fostered and directed his natural love of science in many branches. As he grew older, the delight of James was to pore over the treasures of his ever-increasing cabinets with his mother, and to arrange and classify the specimens and relics which they had collected, during their travels, from land and sea. Taking his education, however, as a whole, we can- not feel satisfied that the best plan was adopted in the upbringing of the child. There seems to have been much liberty, checked by an occasional vigorous appli- cation of the birch rod, but little systematic teaching or sustained and orderly training. Now, liberty tempered by the birch rod can never be a very safe system under which to bring up any lad, especially a headstrong and passionate boy with a marked individuality like that of our little James. We are inclined to think that a little less of both in the days of his childhood would have saved him the necessity for more than one lesson hard to be learned in the days of his manhood. He himself blames the old-fashioned severity with which any fault, when brought home to him, was pun- ished. " I am not quite certain," he says, " that it did ^t. i— 13.] Moral Courage. not destroy my moral courage. I have none, and I think that it was from fear that I lost it. To this very day I am afraid out of my wits to ask my father for the simplest thing ; and yet I know that there is no likelihood of his refusing me." He also attributes a certain reserve of character and unwillingness to unfold himself to the in- spection of others, to the same cause. With regard to this self-criticism we may say that he perhaps may have been reserved to this extent, that he never found it easy, either by letter or in conversation, to convey to anothei what he felt most deeply. He was not given to un burdening himself, except to his most chosen intimates, who were the privileged recipients of his confidences. This may have been natural, or it may have been the result of his peculiar training. We are inclined to think that both may be held, in a measure, responsible for it. Lacking in moral courage I do not think he was — cer- tainly not to any conspicuous extent: rather the reverse. It may have been that moral courage was not natural to him. In that case there belongs to him the greater honor of acquiring it. The man who is naturally gifted with, physical courage has no fear of exposing his body to rude assaults. And perhaps we may define moral courage as a certain fear- lessness in exposing the inner self to possible laceration or rebuff, Insensibility to fear is popularly accounted bravery; but he, surely, is no less brave, rather more so, who, though he vibrates through all his nervous system, and shrinks from exposure to pain or violence, yet schools himself to encounter them without flinching. And as the courage of that general, who, preparing to lead his men into the hottest forefront of the battle, thus ad- dressed his trembling knees : "Ah ! you would quake worse if you only knew where I am going just now to 10 James Hannington. [A.D. 1847— 6a take you," — is justly considered to have been of a higher order than the stolid insensibility which carried others calmly enough into the jaws of death — so, he who reso- lutely masters his moral cow*ardice, and faces his duty manfully, must be considered the most truly morally brave. If it be true, then, that James Hannington, who possessed the attribute of physical courage in so marked a degree, was naturally deficient in that moral courage which is the more important of the two, we can only say that to him belongs the credit of overcoming his natural weakness in a very marvellous manner. To those who observed him closely, there were not wanting signs that it was an effort to him to expose himself — that is, his sensitive, inner self — speaking from the heart to the heart, as must be done when a man wishes to influence another soul. But with whatever severity he may have judged himself, to his friends he always appeared as a man who might be relied upon to do his duty unflinch- ingly ; to speak out what was in his mind, and to abide by the issue. He would sometimes class himself with such characters as Mr. Feeble-Mind, or Mr. Ready-to- Halt ; but to us he appeared rather Mr. Valiant-for- Truth, w 7 ith his sword- ever ready to his hand. The mixed and broken nature of his early education had, at least, this advantage. It set him free to think for himself, and possessing as he did unusual powers of observation, and naturally disposed to make use of them, he gained, while still a lad, a sturdy independence of character, and a knowledge of men and things, quite beyond those of his own age. The first thirteen years of his life, then, were spent at home, and in travelling and yachting with his parents. Many stories are told of his fearless and excitable nature. He was ahvays, with the best intentions, in j£t. i— 13.] First Yachting Trip. 11 some mischief. Always on the verge of a serious acci- dent; almost always escaping without much harm done, since the perfectly fearless rarely suffer by their own rashness. It is recorded how, at the age of seven, he clambered unnoticed up the mast of his father's yacht, and was at last discovered high aloft, suspended on some projection by the seat of his trousers. And many other such adventures. He must have kept his mother con- stantly upon the tiptoe of nervous expectation as to what would happen next. He was eleven years of age when he was permitted to make his first yachting trip alone with his elder brother, Samuel. He says: " My father hired for us a small cutter, of about thirty-two tons. A very slow old tub she was, and, therefore, named the 'Antelope.' Sam was at this time between sixteen and seventeen years old, but very manly for his age. Everything on board was of the roughest description. We used to wait upon ourselves, make our own beds, and do all that sort of thing. Sea pies and plum duff were our standing dishes. All this mattered little to us ; we were as happy and contented as the days were long. The first day, being slightly qualmish, I lay on the deck in the sun, and the next morning was in the most miserable plight, my whole face one mass of blisters, piteous to behold." So, start- ing from Brighton, they went round the Isle of Wight, past Portland, and as far as the Land's End ; visiting Torquay, Dartmouth, Penzance, St. Michael's Mount, and almost every place of interest accessible to them. The brothers also made an excursion to the famous Loggan Rock, hard by the Land's End ; and James tells the story of that unfortunate practical joker who paid so dearly for his folly — that Lieutenant of a Revenue Cutter, who landed a party to throw the great rocking- 12 James Hannington. [A.D. 1847 — 60, stone over the cliff, "to make a grand splash." He only succeeded in moving the mass a few inches, but it rocked no more. The owner of an inn, to which the balanced stone attracted visitors, sued the luckless lieutenant for damages, and he was condemned to replace the stone in its original position. This he did with partial success, but only by special machinery, and at such cost that " he was reduced to beggary." James draws a suitable moral from this, and concludes: "Alas! I am scarcely in a position to preach ; I have been so fond of playing practical jokes myself." He continues: "We returned in our own time to the Isle of Wight. My father came down to Portsmouth and settled with Redman (the cap- tain and owner). That very night I was awaked by a great disturbance on deck, a crash of bottles, and a sound as of fumbling in our wine locker. Ah ! I always told Sam, thought I, that our wine went too fast ; there they are in the act. Urchin as I was, I don't think that, in those days, I knew fear. I struck a light, never went to see whether Sam was awake, but marched into the fore- castle and looked at the men. They were both sound asleep, and a stranger lying on the floor asleep too. I then slipped up the forecastle ladder, and should have sallied right up to the offending parties, had not Sam waked and seen me, and called me back, fearing I might get hurt. I had, however, time to see old Redman fear- fully tipsy ; a woman with him on deck, and a man in a boat holding on by the side. As I did not dare disobey Sam, I crept back into bed, and we heard the woman say, ' I will have the silver spoon, Uncle Joe ; give us the silver spoon.' Here the boatman interposed, saying it was past three o'clock, and he would wait no longer ; so the female had to go without the spoon, and Redman stumbled down to his bin, amid straw and broken bot- JEt. i— 13.] Loss of his Thumb. 13 ties. Next morning, daring young imp, I called him out of his berth before I was dressed. However, he did not appear until about one o'clock, and tried to look as if nothing had happened. Sam did not quite know how to introduce the subject ; we were both very young, and did not like to rebuke such an elderly sinner. At last I went up to him with all the assurance of eleven years, and asked him before everybody why his niece wanted our silver spoon. He tried to look surprised, and said, * I don't understand you, sir ! ' But Sam now found his opportunity, and opened up the subject till Redman was, I remember, ready to drop on his knees that nothing more might be said. We forgave him. We had enjoyed the cruise beyond measure, and the little adventure of * Uncle Joe' only added spice to it." The result of this trip was that young James quite made up his mind to "go to scr ." This might, perhaps, have been his lot, but the death at sea of an elder brother had determined his parents not to allow another son to enter the navy. So the country lost a daring seaman, but she has gained thereby the priceless legacy of the memory of a Christian martyr. Another adventure we must chronicle, not merely as illustrating the courage of the boy, but as explaining a conspicuous physical defect — the absence of the thumb upon his left hand. He was bent upon taking a wasp's nest, and had just. been initiated into the mystery of making damp gun- powder squibs, or "blue devils." Full of his new ac- quirement, he sought out Joe, the keeper's son, and to- gether they got possession of a broken powder-flask. " In a few minutes," he says, "blue devils were in a state of readiness; but we must needs, before starting, try one with touch-paper. The result was not so satisfactory as 14 James Hannington. [A.D. 1847—60. we had expected, and Joe Simmons says I tried to pour a little powder on the top of it. The spring of the flask was broken, and in an instant a terrific explosion took place. The flask was blown to. atoms, and I was to be seen skipping about, shaking my hand as if twenty- wasps were settling on it. Simmons senior rushed up at the report, and binding up my hand in his handker- chief, led me off to the house, about a quarter of a mile distant, my hand all the while streaming with blood, so as to leave a long red streak in the road. When I reached the garden I was so faint that Miles, the gar- dener, took me up and carried me. The first person I met was my mother. She at once saw that something was wrong, and, in spite of my saying that I had only cut my finger a little, she. sent off for the doctor. I was soon under chloroform, and my thumb was amputated. It was quite shattered, and only hanging by the skin. I was very prostrate from the great loss of blood, but, through the mercy of God, I soon got well again. I never suffered with the lost thumb, I may say, at all. I used to feel the cold in it ; but that also has passed away, although even now I cannot bear a blow upon it without considerable pain. It is a great wonder that I was not taken off by tetanus ! " About a year after this, in the summer of i860, James went with one of his brothers and their tutor for a tour through Wales. One or two extracts from his diary are worth quoting, as instancing that keen sense of humor which was one of his striking characteristics. Upon the top of a coach, near Aberystwith, they encountered a certain Unitarian. At him the tutor, a young man read- ing for orders, straightway launched himself. The con- flict was an unequal one. The stranger turned out to be the "father of two senior wranglers, whom he had jEt. i— 13.] "An Ancient Dame" 15 educated himself." The fiery orthodoxy of the tutor, in spite of his newly-acquired theological battery, was no match for the dogmatism of the father of the wranglers. James writes, evidently with gleeful remembrance of the scene : " Mr. rushed at him single-handed ; words waxed very warm ; the Unitarian's arms flew about like the sweeps of a windmill. We were ordered not to listen to the profane babbler, but we could not help hearing our tutor scream in a very loud voice, ' But you won't let me get a word in edgeways.' 'And I dont mean to] replied his adversary, in still louder tones. I fear he had the fight pretty much his own way, for our tutor said that he was a nasty, rude man, and forbade us to speak to him again." Do we not see them ? That raw young man, with his thin veneering of theological lore, and that hot-blooded Welsh mathematician, butting against each other in direst conflict ? Again, how graphically he tells the story of that abom- inable old Welshwoman, "an ancient dame, rheumatic and lame," who " was got on top of the coach by means of a ladder and ropes, two or three men pushing and pulling with all their might "! The driver, an ex-colonel in the army, rated at the old dame, and "vowed he would not stop the coach for such a time. However, they at last got her up, and she sat coughing and groan- ing. We soon began to speculate about her descent, and it became a matter of conjecture as to how she was to be got down. Two or three hours afterwards we ar- rived at Harlech, and the horses were changed. While this was being done the colonel and other passengers darted in to get some refreshment, Old mother was cruelly left on the box to take care of herself. Thinking, of course, that she was safely housed, the money for her fare had not been taken. Not two minutes elapsed — ■ i6 James Hannington. [A.D. 1847 — 60. in fact the colonel only gave himself time to swallow a hasty glass of beer, when he returned to look at his new team. Lo ! that ancient dame had jumped down, bas- kets, bundles, and all, and had given him the slip. If he cursed her in his heart because she took such a long time to get up, he cursed her ten times more because she took such a short time to get down ! It was the joke of the day — even the colonel could not help laugh- ing, although he had lost his money." Poor little James had now reached the age when children begin to be uncomfortably conscious of their own personal appearance and deficiencies. Though he was in later life singularly free from susceptibility of this kind, and never seemed to w 7 ince beneath any most pointed personalities that might be thrust at him by maliciously-minded friends, there is a touch of boyish pain in the following record. An overflow of third-class passengers had filled their compartment with a number of roisterers, who cursed and swore forth profane vul- garities all the way home. "I perfectly well recollect/' he writes, " that one of these cursers, much to my annoy- ance, noticed that I had lost my thumb, and I was very impressed, as he was the first stranger " (brutal fellow !) " that had remarked it to me." CHAPTER II. SCHOOL-DAYS. (1860—62.) " My bonnie laddie's young, but he's growin' yet." Old Scotch Ballad. Very shortly after the Welsh tour referred to in the last chapter, the tutor left to take a curacy. What was to be done with the boys ? James was now thirteen, and not very easy for a tutor to manage. Good-natured and warm-hearted, but withal quick-tempered, and an in- veterate tease : capable of great industry when the sub- ject — as that of natural history — interested him ; but otherwise seemingly incorrigibly idle, and utterly averse to apply himself to the dull routine of the classical mill: it was evident to his parents that he and his brother Joseph ought to go to school. It was only, however, after long thought and some demur that it was finelly decided that they should enter the Temple School at Brighton. " Alas ! " he writes, " it was only a private school, and we were allowed to go home every Saturday to stop till Monday morning." The home-bred boy was at first, naturally enough, very unhappy. The memory of the day when he was left, pale, nervous, and shivering, in the school-room, among his new companions, always clung to him. Do not most of us recall sucha moment ? The kindly man- ner of the head-master, however, made things easier for both the brothers, and they soon fell into their places. (17) i8 James Hannington. [A.D. 1860—62. Hannington criticises with some severity the private tutor and private school system, with frequent visits home, under which, by a mistaken kindness, he had been brought up. He writes in his journal, " I knew abso- lutely nothing, the result of private tutorage, and I was put into the fourth class, which was bottom but one." Again, speaking of the time when he left school, he adds : " I only remained at school until I was fifteen and a half, and then left for business, with as bad an education as possible ; I may say as bad as my father's was good. I was no more fit to leave school than to fly, and yet I was then in the first class. So much for private tutors and private schools. I believe that both systems are equally pernicious." All of which I tran- scribe without either endorsing the opinion or otherwise, except so far as to remind the reader that what is one boy's poison may be another boy's food. As regards a boy of Hannington's type, it can scarcely be doubted that the system he condemns was open to serious objec- tions. As he says of himself : " I was naturally idle, and would not learn of myself, and I was unfortunate enough always to be sent to places where I was not driven to learn. Would that I had been driven ! " In the later years of his short life, his industry and appli- cation were unwearied and immense. No one could ac- cuse him of trifling with his time, or of the smallest degree of self-indulgence. He was scrupulously pains- taking in the execution of any work which he under- took, and his undertakings he meted out to himself with no scant hand. But no one can doubt that his university course, upon which so much of a man's future, depends, would have been quite other than it was, per- haps even a brilliant one, had he possessed the advan- tage of a more thorough and systematic early training. ^Et. 13 — 15.] Intelligent and Conscientious. 19 Hannington had plenty of intelligence ; was as sharp as a needle ; quick to learn what he chose to learn ; and what he once learned he always retained. Volatile and excitable as he was, he could be serious enough when the occasion seemed to demand it, and in the midst of all his extravagances a certain solid good sense generally kept him within bounds, so that he never committed any act which could cause himself or others serious regret. He soon became a prime favorite at school, both with the masters and boys. That the former should have been the case is more strange than the latter. He soon proved himself to be a confirmed " pickle." He thus re- ports himself : " I was always very excitable and noisy, and was called 'Mad Jim.' In fact, I was one day re- ported to the head-master as 'verging on insanity,' and was severely punished." He once lit a bonfire in the middle of his dormitory ; at another time pelted the German master with his rejected papers; and we are not much surprised to learn that, on one particularly un- lucky day, he was " caned more than a dozen times," till, smarting in every inch of his body, he had serious thoughts of running away. The head-master, however, was most judicious and kind. Whatever was lacking in his pupil's education, the fault could not be laid upon the threshold of the pedagogue. He liked the giddy boy, into whose truly lovable nature he saw, and easily secured his affection in return. Hannington was sensitively conscientious and trustworthy. Hatred of a lie was inborn and in- bred in him. He might always be entirely relied upon to carry out anything that he had once undertaken, and that not only in the letter, but in the spirit. His word was, in the most rigid sense, his bond. This fidelity of mind was developed in him very early. 20 James Hannington. [A.D. 1860—62, The following instance seems quite a remarkable one of a school-boy's endurance for conscience sake. Every school has its bully. A certain R. R. filled this role during the time Hannington was at the Temple School. Being rash enough to attack this boy, Han- nington got, what perhaps upon that occasion he richly deserved, a tremendous thrashing. Both of his eyes were closed up, and sundry egg-like bumps upon his head bore witness to the hardness of his adversary's fists. That same afternoon he, unluckily, had to go home to pay his weekly visit. Horrified at the dreadful appearance of her son, his mother made him promise that he would never fight again. Now, there never was one more absolutely devoid of physical fear than James Hannington. Yet, holding himself bound by that promise of his, he returned to school defenceless. Every one knows what must be the fate of a school-boy when once the young imps about him have clearly ascertained that he will not fight. He was soon made thoroughly wretched. His pusillanimity, for such it seemed, was taken advantage of in every way. He went about like a muzzled mastiff, submitting to be treated by his tormentors like a coward and a cur. At last he could stand it no longer. " One day," he says, " I had allowed myself to be bullied nearly to death by B. P., a boy about my own size, when all of a sudden I turned round and said, to the astonishment of the whole school, that I would fight him. He was backed by his cousin, only son of Baron P. ; I don't think I had anybody to back me, but I very soon gave him a thrash- ing, and I never recollect being bullied afterwards." He always remembered that act as a " broken promise," but who can doubt that such a promise was a greater burden laid upon a school-boy's shoulders than he could be rea- sonably expected to bear ! CHAPTER III. BUSINESS AND PLEASURE. (1862—67.) Always roaming with a hungry heart, Much have I seen and known." Ulysses, " One has to spend so many years in learning to be happy." George Eliot. It too often happens in life that the square man is put into the round hole; and not only put there, but rammed down into the hole, and worked back and forth in it, un- til his angles have somewhat accommodated themselves to the misfit. So the wheels of life go round, somehow, not without a good deal of friction, and some expostu- latory creaking. Happily the subject of this memoir proved altogether too polygonal to be fitted, by any most careful easing whatever, into the hole which circum- stances seemed to have prepared for him. He already possessed a moderate competence. The portion of goods that belonged, or would belong to him was likely to be sufficient for his wants. But the road to fortune lay plainly through the counting-house, and his father's established and high-class place of business. To the counting-house at Brighton, then, he was sent at the age of fifteen, and there he remained more or less during six years. He was wholly unsuited, by almost every characteristic he possessed, for the monotonous routine of a commercial life. Generous, impulsive, er- (21) 22 James Hannington. [A.D. 1862. ratic, the careful men who managed that great business house, had they taken him into partnership, would have discovered before long that they had bound a very zebra to their cart yoke. " Canst thou bind the unicorn with his band in the furrow ? or will he harrow the valleys after thee ? " The experiment has often been tried. The result has, we venture to say, seldom been satisfactory. Happily, in Hannington's case, the "fork" was not too persistently applied to that ever-recurring nature of his. After six years he was allowed to choose that path for which the Divine Hand had fashioned him. On looking through the record of these six years they seem to have been filled up with almost more pleasur- ing than "business." Hannington writes: "As soon as I left school I was allowed to go with my late master, W. H. Gutteridge, on a trip to Paris. I was intensely delighted; so much so that at first I could scarcely real- ize it. Once, when a little boy, having caught an un- usually fine fish, thinking that I must be asleep and dreaming, I pinched myself as hard as I could, and repeated the pinch two or three times, to make quite certain that I was awake. And now, as I stepped on board the steamer at Newhaven, I felt much the same inclination to pinch myself, it seemed so impossible that I was really on my way to spend six or eight weeks abroad. Visions of cardinals shut up in cages, of the horrors of revolutions, the Hunchback of Notre Dame, the Morgue, magnificent chocolate shops, all these and more confusedly floated through my brain." A mar- ginal note to the diary, evidently written much later, adds what was always a dominant thought with him, " My dearest of mothers was pleased too, and I think that knowing this gave me such great joy." This trip is described in his notes at great length. JEt. 15.] His Trip to Paris. 23 No doubt all the information those notes contain can be gathered from a guide-book, but it is not too much to say that few guide-books, drawn up by experienced and professional travellers, could give much more in- formation, or pay minuter attention to details than does the diary of this boy of fifteen. There was almost nothing in the towns he visited which he did not see, and, what is more, which he did not think worth the seeing. He was at this time very far from being a mere gaping school-boy. If he did not yet see much beneath the shell of things, he at least took an intelligent inter- est in everything. He congratulates himself upon hav- ing had such an excellent travelling companion as Mr. Gutteridge; but we might also congratulate Mr. Gut- teridge himself upon the companionship of that uncon- ventionally fresh young mind. They went to a boarding-house kept by a certain Madame Boys, from whence he writes to his mother: "Dearest Mamma, — You will be very glad to hear that we had a capital passage. We played chess on board the steamer all the time: neither of us sick. We went to church Christmas morning at the Ambassador's Chapel, and to the Madeleine in the afternoon. We had a very grand dinner party in the evening. Madame Boys is a kind, good-natured, vulgar, blowing-up-ser- vants little woman — all very desirable points to make me happy. I mean to bring you home six snails with rich plum pudding stuffing in them. With my very best love to all, especially papa, "Your affectionate son, James Hannington." The Archbishop of Paris was just at this time at the point of death. The following thoroughly boyish re- mark occurs in one of James's letters home: "I am 24 James Hannington. [A.D. 1863. rather glad that the Archbishop is dead; we are going to see him lying in state." Which they accordingly did, and his funeral afterwards. They missed nothing, these two. A short six months were now spent in the house of business, and then another trip abroad with Mr. Gut- teridge was planned and carried out. This time they went to Brussels, Antwerp, Luxem- bourg, Treves, and many other places, about all of which Hannington has much to say. Nothing escaped his observant eyes, and everything was carefully noted in his pocket-book. At Wiesbaden he notes (the gaming tables were then in full swing) : " Those who seemed to be regular professional gamblers were the ugliest set of people that I ever saw in my life. A gambling table is a curious sight. I recollected those awfully eager and ugly faces for many a long day." From Wiesbaden and Frankfort the travellers made their way to Baden Baden, " nestling in the heart of the Black Forest like a beautiful but deadly snake on a bank of purple violets." Then on to Lucerne, whose fairy-like charms seem to have inspired the following not unmusical verse: " Oh ! for a painter's brush, or poet's pen, That I might now pourtray {sic) The glories I saw then. The silver moon, the cloudless starlit sky, The deep, the rippling lake ; Grim Pilate standing by, Hoar-white his rugged peak with glistening snow, Like some fierce lion's fang, Unbared to meet the foe." From the Wengern Alp James saw his first avalanche, with which, having, like most travellers, formed mar- JEt. 1 6.] A Notable Day. 25 vellous conceptions of falling mountains, he was at first rather disappointed. He saw the great Rhone Glacier, not then shrunk to its present lesser proportions. From thence the two crossed over the St. Gothard Pass into Italy, saw the Lakes and Milan, and penetrated as far as Venice. Returning across the Simplon, they visited Chamounix, and made a glacier excursion as far as the " Jardin," an excursion no less fascinating because so often "done." Thence home by Geneva and Paris. The whole trip of two months (June and July of 1863) was evidently not wasted upon the boy, but was a real factor in his education. The First of September that followed was a notable day in the lad's diary. He was allowed to take out a game-license for the first time, and shot his first bird. The occurrence was, moreover, impressed upon his mem* ory by the explosion of a cartridge in the opened breech of his gun, whereby his face was severely cut and burnt, and for some little time he was quite blinded. Mr. and Mrs. Hannington had now taken toa) acht- ing life, and spent much of their time on board. James, who was devoted to the sea and its adventures, was frequently passing backwards and forwards between Portsmouth, where the yacht often lay, and Brighton. "Sunday, Nov. 1st, 1863. — Caught in a tremendous squall returning from church at Portsmouth. Never was there such a churchgoer as my mother. She simply would go if it was possible. I wonder that we never capsized during those rough-weather journeys." The next entry in his diary records his commission as second lieutenant in the 1st Sussex Artillery Volun- teers. "March zZth, 1864. — My first day in uniform." 26 James Hannington. [A.D. 1864. "June nth. — Rapid progress in soldiering. Battalion inspected, and I had command of my company." Hannington made an excellent artillery officer. He was a great favorite with the men, from whom, how- ever, he exacted implicit obedience. He early displayed considerable organizing power, and always gave that attention to seemingly trifling details which goes so far to ensure the success of any undertaking. July and the first week of August of this year were spent on board the yacht Zelia, and in a continental tour with his parents through part of France, Germany, and Switzerland. His taste for travel was as keen as ever; and everything was noted in the never-absent pocket- book for future reference. "Aug. nth. — My father gave me a single-barrel breech- loader gun; 17 guineas. My delight is great." " Sept. 3rd. — My seventeenth birthday. Shot eighteen brace of birds, four hares, one landrail. 5 feet 10 inches high, weight 11 stone 6 lb. Sam gave me a garnet ring; Phil a gold locket." In October of the same ) r ear he was with his parents on another yachting excursion. They visited the island of Alderney, and, in spite of very rough weather, man- aged to enjoy themselves. James writes while they were still off Portsmouth : " Saturday, the 22nd. — Weather looks worse, though sea rather smoother. Landed in boat, and, returning, got caught in a terrific squall, and had great difficulty in reaching the yacht. Found mother and the crew greatly frightened for us ; the former in tears. We were an hour behind our time." " Sunday, the 2yd. — It blew furiously. No landing for church. Which means that "it did blow." JEt. 1 8.] Religiously-minded. 27 Coming home across the choppy waters of the Channel they were nearly cut down by the West Indian Packet just as they entered the Needles. "We had watched her approaching for more than an hour, and as we were beating up on the right tack, and every foot was of im- portance to us, the captain trusted to her giving way, but she evidently expected us to do the same, and kept on. The huge monster dashed by within a few feet of us. The men shouted, and my father as coolly as pos- sible fired a blue light, and we were saved." The following entry appears in the diary for Decem- ber 30th : — " Father went on deck with five sovereigns in one hand and the paper in which they had been wrap- ped in the other. He threw the sovereigns overboard and kept the paper. He was much vexed." The verses which conclude his diary for 1864 show that, though he might not at that time have had any real and vital religion, yet that he was religiously-minded, and not disinclined to think seriously. They are worth quoting : "My heart, Lord, may I ever raise To Thee in humble thanks and praise For keeping me throughout this year. Lord, guard and guide me while I'm here, And when to die my time has come, Oh ! take me to Thy heavenly home." A further proof that his mind was beginning to bestir itself, and his spirit to grope after something reliable upon which it might lay hold, is to be found in the re- markable entry made against March 6, 1865. "Left off mourning for Cardinal Wiseman." He adds a little later : " The fact is that about this time I nearly turned Roman Catholic ; but my faith was much shaken by reading Cardinal Manning's funeral sermon for the above. 28 James Hannington. [A.D. 1865. Also by his own last words, 'Let me have all the Church can do for me.' I seemed to see at once that if the highest ecclesiastic stood thus in need of external rites on his death-bed, the system must be rotten, and I shortly after gave up all idea of departing from our Protestant faith." Only once again did he ever experience any leaning toward the Roman Church, when for a single moment he thought that he recognized in the quiet seclusion of a certain cloister the soil suitable for the growth of the spiritual life, then working still more restlessly within him. But, in sooth, James Hannington would never have made a "good" Catholic of the Roman type, much less a monk who would have been tolerated for a sin- gle day by any "Superior." He was never wont to "think by the bonnet,"* and his sturdy independence of reasoning, and sound, masculine common-sense, would have soon burst through the cramping enswathements of the Roman system, or procured him a speedy and em- phatic eviction out of that fold. All this time scarcely a single entry in the diary refers to the " business." Almost all his time seems to have been spent on board the yacht. Evidently James was far more keen to culti- vate "horny hands and weather-beaten haffets"f in many a conflict with the salt-laden winds and blue rac- ing waves of the open Channel, than a bold commercial style of penmanship, and an automatic accuracy in tot- ting up figures. He says with some pride : "I can now sail a boat uncommonly well. To-day I proposed going across to France in the wheny, and got well scolded for the suggestion." *"He thinks by the bonnet, like a monk in Sorbonne." t Cheeks. Pascal {Old French Proverb) JEt. 1 8.] The Sea has Charms for him. 29 In April of this year (1865) he paid a fortnight's visit to a friend at Virginia Water, Capt. Welsh, "Admiral of the Queen's Rowing-boats." "April Zth. — After dinner a croquet party. Prince Alfred came in in the middle of it. Saw the Queen." "April iot/1. — Another croquet party, which was sud- denly interrupted by the arrival of the Queen. We had to scamper off indoors; but from my bed-room window I could hear the Queen laughing and chatting in a most merry way to Captain Welsh." " April 17//Z. — Rode with Vernon. Called on the Mills. Coming back, was playing the penny whistle, when sud- denly met the Queen. I wonder what she thought of my performance ! " The month of June was spent on board the Zelia. A family party was made up for a trip by sea to the west coast of Scotland; and then once more the serious busi- ness of life began, and James turned his unwilling feet to the unwelcome warehouse. He says: "I left the dear yacht and returned to Brighton. I hoped to do well; but, alas! it was not from the bottom of my heart. I never could like the business." His head was full of the sunny western sea ; and great green Atlantic rollers breaking over the half-hidden fangs of treacherous reefs ; and the sloping deck of the yacht under pressure of sail, cutting her way through the seething water ; and rocky islands, purple against naming skies ; and everything but the adding up of those never-ending columns of figures, and the acquirement of knowledge of the texture of merchantable fabrics in that terri- ble warehouse. Had a business career been seriously planned for him, he would, perhaps, have been kept more rigorously to the grindstone; but no doubt his 30 James Hannington. [A.D. 1865, parents were at this time willing to allow him to dis- cover for himself, by actual experience of life, in what direction his natural bent tended. He had, according^, far more liberty than is granted to most boys at the age of eighteen, who are not intended for a life of idle- ness. It is very noticeable that, under this treatment, Han- nington never displayed the least tendency to pass his time in lounging about, frequenting the clubs, or in any way leading a fast life. His time was never unoccu- pied — never hung heavy on his hands. He was never one of those who affect to be superior to the occupations and amusements of every-day life — who yawn, and find nothing to interest them in the world. He always had something to do — always something in hand; and what he did undertake he carried through with a heartiness and delighted enthusiasm which never failed to infect others and stir them up to co-operate. It was this fac- ulty which made him the very life and centre of any circle of society into which he was introduced. His friends often found themselves, under his influence, working might and main for the achievement of some object in which none of them had taken the slightest previous interest, but which Hannington had made the all-important object of the hour. About this time he threw himself heart and soul into the work of his battery. He passed his examination for promotion, and about the end of the year received his commission as captain. His delight was boundless when, at the Artillery Volunteer Camp at Shoebu^ness, the Brighton men won both the Palmerston Prize of 4c guineas and the Queen's Prize of 100 guineas. His own detachment behaved itself very creditably, and showed signs of careful drilling. I find this entry after the re- ;Et. 1 8.] At the Grand Review. 3 1 turn from the camp : " I presented a gold pin to Bomb. C. for good shooting." At this time, also, he began to show signs of that interest in the welfare of young men which in after years was so marked a feature of his min- istry. He took a great deal of trouble in procuring for them suitable recreation rooms, and personally inspect- ed, tested, and bought the various articles necessary for their equipment. He organized concerts, readings, and games, and made himself a prime favorite with the men under his charge. Hannington was always fond of telling a good story against himself. Here is one : On Easter Monday, 1866, at the Grand Review, the Prince and Princess of Wales being present, he was appointed major to the battalion. Right proudly he jingled along upon his gaily-caparisoned charger. Scarcely, however, had they started, when that horse, unmindful of his own dignity or that of his master, took the bit between his teeth and bolted. Away flew James in full view of the admiring Prince and Royal party. First his horse made for a gap which led over the cliff ; from thence, being hardly turn- ed by the waving arms of some fisherfolk, he dashed down the pavement and ran full tilt into a cart; grazing this, he was nearly knocked from the saddle by violent contact with a cab-horse; and next, still sticking bravely on, he charged home into a mounted officer. At last, not without effort, this mad career was checked, and the major rode back to his post, girth broken and accoutre- ments all awry, amid the ironical cheering of the de- lighted crowd. So he tells us. But if he appeared, through his charger's misdemeanor, in a ridiculous light that day. he at all events seems to have enjoyed the oc- currence as much as any of the onlookers. The same spring, the Hanningtons made up a family 32 James Hannington. [A.D. 1866 party for a long yachting trip to the Mediterranean. James's diary has the following : "May gt/i. — Left Brighton with Sam and Jos, and found father and mother at Lymington, busy putting a few finishing touches. Among other things that they have added to one of the best fitted and most comfort- able yachts afloat, is a steam-launch. Scarcely another yacht has one." This, of course, was in 1866. They landed first at Belem, on the Tagus, and saw all that was to be seen. " Got permission and went over the Castle, which is ex- ceedingly picturesque, and built of marble. They are much behindhand in gunnery — only some old 12-pound- ers on wooden carriages, painted red. The sentry sits about and smokes in the most casual manner. I got into conversation with the guard, and showed them the manual and platoon. One spied my thumb, and at once affirmed for me that I had lost it in war." Gibraltar, Algiers, and many places are described with much patient minuteness. At the latter place he bought a young jackal, which was brought home with him as a pet. On this cruise his botanical notes begin to multi- ply; and he evidently used the microscope systematical- ly, and to good purpose. From Naples, James and his brothers ascended Vesuvius, and disported themselves in the crater, which was then in a slight state of erup- tion. At Civita Vecchia they went on board the Pope's yacht, The Immaculate Conception, " handsome outside, but very dirty in." The officer in command paid a return visit to the Zelia, and was much astonished at the com- pleteness and sumptuous arrangemerts of the English vessel. After some days spent in Rome, they directed theii JEt. 19.] In the Queen's Yacht. 33 course to Genoa. James writes : " The war has broken out, and the town is in great excitement. The citizens aie garrisoning the place, but present anything but a military appearance. The Garibaldians seem, to the visual eye, an awful crew." But we need not enter into the details of this trip. The boy of nineteen chronicles all he saw, as though it had never been seen before, and never might be again by eye of mortal. He is still very boyish, pleased to be courted and admired by foreigners as " one of the lords from the English yacht." He still has a great deal to learn, but he is evidently teachable, and by the grace of God he will learn his lesson. On the last day of August, Hannington was again in Brighton ; and the next day, being the first of September, we find him, indefatigable and keen, carrying his single- barrel breech-loader over the turnips and stubbles. He writes : " Sam and I killed between us 25^ brace of birds." "Nov. 3rd. — Riding over from Brighton to shoot, my horse fell, and rolled over with me on my leg. I never said anything about it, lest I should be forbidden to strain the leg by going out shooting. Killed eighteen brace of pheasants." "Nov. gt/i. — Went to Mayor's banquet, and delivered my maiden public speech, by returning thanks for the ladies ; received great eclat." " 1867, Jan. Wi. — Breakfast and meet at Sir J. Simeon's. In at death." " gth. — Went across in Royal yacht Alberta to South- ampton, and returned with Sir Stafford Northcote." "nth. — Crossed again with Sir Stafford; inspected the docks. Treated with fearful civility, the effect of travelling in the Queen's yacht. Returned in the even- ing with General Gray." 2* 34 James Hannington. [A.D. 1867, " 14///. — Left Cowes in the Alberta with Lady Caroline Barrington, and returned to Hurstpierpomt." And now follows a very singular entry. I quote it with some hesitation, as liable by the unthinking to be misunderstood. Those, however, who have had some experience in tracing the strange and complex move- ments of the human soul, and who have noted' how, side by side, are to be found there the workings of the trivial and the tremendous, will know how to read this passage. It runs thus : " Feb. gth. — I lost my ring out shooting, with scarcely a hope of ever seeing it again. I offered to give the keeper 10s. if he found it, and was led to ask God that the ring might be found, and be to me a sure sign of salvation. From that moment the ring seemed on my finger ; I was not surprised to receive it from Savers on Monday evening. He had picked it up in the long grass in cover, a most unlikely place ever to find it. A miracle ! Jesus, by Thee alone can we obtain remission of our sins." He adds, in a note written several years afterwards : " This is a quotation from my diary, written at the most worldly period of my existence." It was written, remem- ber, for the inspection of no eye but his own, and, there- fore, expressed, without doubt, the unfeigned conviction of the moment. As we have seen before, he was, in spite of his volatile exterior, by no means devoid of religious thoughtfulness. If he had not, as yet, any intelligent apprehension of his true relationship to God, he never wholly neglected the externals of religion. He had al- ways " a secret apprehension " that there was a better way. Keenly as he enjoyed his surroundings — and no man ever entered with more zest into the pursuit of the moment — he was never wholly satisfied with a life apart from God. It is deeply interesting to notice in this JEt. 19.] A Cruise in the Baltic. 35 strange, unreasoning appeal to the Unseen by the care- less younker in his momentary vexation over the loss of a trinket, the early traces of that assured and reasonable, though childlike, trust in God which so distinguished him in later life, and marked him pre-eminently above his fellows as a man of faith. He next mentions that he was " carrying on an inter- esting correspondence with Frank Buckland about a surface net when yachting." I believe that he never be- came personally acquainted with the eminent practical naturalist. Had they met, they would have found in. each other congenial spirits. After a short trip to Paris in the spring, James Han nington and his brothers started for a cruise in the Baltic, and a visit to some of the cities of Russia. The following entry in his diary marks the event : " June 4th f 1867. — Yacht Zelia, 195 tons. Underway 9 a. m. Abreast Brighton, 3.40. Off Beachy Head, 5.15." Christiania, Copenhagen, Stockholm, etc., were all in- spected with intelligent eyes. While at the latter place, he wrote: "The King, when we went over the palace, had just left a cabinet council, and during the discus- sion had sketched a tree and a face on a sheet of paper. The guide's contempt when I asked for this was su- preme. If he was a fair example, Stockholmers are not overweeningly proud of their monarch." They then spent a week in St. Petersburg and Mos- cow, keenly entering into the delights of everything that was going in the way of entertainment, and toward the end of July set their faces again homeward. An incident which throws light upon Hannington's character occurred on the return voyage. The elder brother, who was in command of the expedition, having 36 James Hannington. [A.D. 1867. been recalled home by domestic affairs which required his presence, the leadership fell to James. He at once took the reins, and held them with no uncertain hand. He writes: " The men have of late been very disorderly, and getting worse, so, on my assuming command, I in- stantly gave them my mind on the subject, and told them that in future any man breaking leave would be discharged. The first to do so, as it happened, was the captain, who remained ashore, and, by his own confes- sion, helplessly drunk." The captain had no doubt that he would be able to make it all right with the young commander. But he reckoned without his host. Dis- cipline was at stake. Hannington felt that now or never was the time to assert his authority, and in such cir- cumstances he was not accustomed to hesitate for a moment. To the astonishment of the whole crew, and not less so of the culprit himself, the captain was there and then sent ashore with all his belongings. After this dreadful example the crew gave no more trouble. They recognized the fact that they had one at the head of affairs who might be expected to execute what he threatened, and, after the manner of sailors, they liked him none the worse for it. He was fortunate enough not to suffer himself on account of this prompt act of justice. He writes: "I met Captain Van Deurs, a very gentlemanly man, and well recommended, whom I en- gaged, and an immense success he turned out." The next day they stopped a fishing smack off the coast of Denmark to buy some cod. The fishermen asked whether the yacht belonged to the King of England. " ' No, there is no King ; England is ruled by a Queen.' 'Then it must belong to the Prince of Wales. That' pointing to me, ' is the Prince of Wales.' No answer on Van Deurs' part confirmed them in their idea, and left z£t. 19.] Not jLued for a "Business" Career. 37 them full of joy to return to their native v.'Vage and pass the rest of their lives as the men who had seen and talked with the Prince who had married their own popular Princess ! " "J u ty 2 6/7*. — Fell in with a tremendous gale, which came suddenly upon us with a rising glass. All sails were set at the time, and I was alone on deck, the men being at tea. I rushed forward and shouted, ' All hands shorten sail ! ' and in half an hour's time we were laid to with the water washing over us most uncomfortably. Carried away our jibboom while pitching into a sea; it w r as a splendid stick too. Three men were washed over- board by a huge wave while clearing the wreckage; but the next wave flung them back on to the deck. After laying to for sixteen hours, and drifting about help- lessly, scarce knowing how matters would end, there was a slight lull. I ordered the jib to be set, but it was blown to ribbons; so we waited a little longer, and then set the storm jib and were able to continue. For two days w r e were without the sun, but the captain made *he land by our soundings. The soundings w~ere very 'nteresting. The lard at the bottom of the lead brought -*>p light silver-like sand off the Danish coast, which gradually grew darker, until almost black off the coast of England." With this trip we may bring Chapter III. to an end. It marks the conclusion of a period in his life. As his character was formed and his disposition became more marked, his nature asserted itself more and more defi- nitely against a "business " career. Of whatever else in life's arena he might be capable, in that at least he felt that he could never excel. His heart was not in it. Surely something else might be found for him — some 38 James Hannington. [A.D. 1867. other vocation — a real vocation to which his heart might respond, as to that for which he was created and brought into this world; not a mere line, grooved out for him by the industry of his forefathers. But how the emancipation took place must be re- served for another chapter. CHAPTER IV. EMANCIPATION. (1867—68.) " He was never a Sceptick in his Principles, but still retained a secret Apprehension that Religion . . . was founded in Truth, and this Conviction .... could not but occasion some secret Misgiv- ings of Heart." Doddridge {Life of Colonel Gardiner). One thing, and one thing only, had, for some time past, prevented Hannington from shaking himself free from the harness which galled him, and in which he felt that he could not hope to run life's course with any prospect of credit or success. Both his training and temperament made him unwilling to run counter to the wishes of his father, and he could not bear the thought of inflicting the slightest pain, or even of causing the shadow of disappointment to fall upon the mother whom he adored. About this time, however, he made a tenta- tive effort at freedom. He wrote to his father with re- gard to the general impression of his friends as to his unfitness for a commercial life, saying, " I know that I am laughed at, and looked upon as fit for nothing but collecting curiosities." In fine, he desired that some- thing else more congenial to him might be found, upon which he might exercise his superabundant energies. He says in his diary: " Sam proposed that I should take to farming ; and there was nothing I thought I should like better. But my father, who had had a taste of farming himself when young, would not hear of it. My (39) 40 James Hannington. [A.D. 1867. mother wrote, saying: ' Your letter was kindly and sens- ibly expressed, but it brought floods of tears to my eyes. The bare thought of my sweet boy going where his father and mother could not see him from time to time distracts me; father, too, said he could not bear it.' Seeing that my mother took it so tremendously to heart, I was ashamed that I ever suggested giving up my work; and so for the time I gave up all thought of leaving home, and endeavored to settle down once more quietly and contentedly. My mother's and father's love devoted my heart to them. I felt that I had sinned grievously in even suggesting what might give them pain." The matter, however, was not to rest here. " There is a Divinity that shapes our ends," and Hannington was not to be shaped by any parental wishes — dutiful resolutions on his own part notwithstanding — into the ordinary type of a British merchant citizen. The first blow struck upon his shackles was, after all, dealt by the hand of his father. It happened in this wise. The family had been hitherto, at least nominally, Independents. Mr. Hannington had built a chapel in the grounds of St. George's, in which Nonconformist services were held. Finding, however, after a wide ex- perience of men and things, that they had no serious quarrel with the Church of England, he and his family decided that they would seek admittance into her com- munion. At the end, therefore, of 1867, St. George's Chapel was licensed for public worship by the Bishop of Chichester, and the charge of it became a curacy — virtually a sole charge — under the Rector of Hurstpier- point. James writes: "Sunday, Oct. 26th. — The last Sunday of the dissenting ministers in St. George's Chapel. Mr. Hart preached ^Et. 20.] Joins the Church. 41 the farewell sermon with a good deal of true emotion. He and his wife were pensioned by my father, the pen- sion to continue for the last survivor's life. Little did I think that I was ever to occupy that pulpit. Perhaps the old man prayed for me." "Dec. 14th. — Opening service at St. George's. Mr. Methuen, the rector, preached a splendid and most suit- able sermon ; ' spoke very kindly of my father. Preached also in the afternoon to a crowded congregation." The consequence of this important step on the part of his father was that Hannington was brought much into contact with Churchmen of whom he had known little previously. He says : " This year (1868) was most event- ful to me. Through the change from dissent to the Church I got to know the clergy of the parish church and college. I yearned for ordination. My mother had once or twice spoken about it, and felt my mind on the subject, so I knew that she would offer no objections." After some self-examination, however, he was led to con- clude that his increasing dissatisfaction with, and loath- ing for, the business at Brighton had more to do with his desire for Orders than any other motive. " I had it fixed upon my mind that I was to be ordained," he says, "but as for real motives I had none, or next to none. I was, I fear, a mere formalist, and nothing more." However that may have been, there are not wanting indications in his diary that he was thinking seriously at times. His was far too honest a nature to permit him to take any step which did not secure the hearty concur- rence of his will and intellect. He could never have be- come a "mere formalist." He had too much humanity about him, and too much enthusiasm within him to have permitted that. A mere secular organizer he might 42 James Hannington. [A.D. 1868. have perhaps become ; enforcing zealously, and by the power of his own personality, dogmas which lacked the power of the Spirit of God to commend them. But from this, too, he was saved, as will appear in the course of our narrative. To outward appearance he was still as gay, thought- less, and reckless as ever. Delighting to startle his friends by some extraordinary feat of personal courage or endurance, by eccentric acts which could only ema- nate from "Jim," it was not easy to associate with this madcap the serious business of life. But the following entry w T ill show that in his heart he was neither a care- less nor indifferent spectator of the mystery of life, or or the set of the world-tide toward Eternity. "About this time," he writes many years later, "John Thurston * came to stay with us ; very ill ; he lingered a long time ; when he was told that his case was hope- less, he not only seemed resigned, but, as far as one could tell, just touching the hem of the Saviour's gar- ment. He died on June 6th, 1868, and was buried in Hurst churchyard, in our family vault. I was in Brigh- ton the night he died, and at the exact time of his death I had one of those peculiar warnings — an internal thrill — which told me certainly that he was gone. My diary reads thus : "June 6th. — John worse ; about one p.m. he took his leave of me. About four, at his own express desire, he received the Sacrament from Mr. Methuen, surrounded by us all. I was obliged to go to Brighton at five. As I was sitting at supper I had a heavy palpitation of the heart. Something said to me, 'John is dead! ' I took out my watch frightened. The hour was ten p.m. * A cousin. /Et. 20.] First Communion. 43 " 71/1, Sunday. — Got up at 4.30 a.m. ; walked down to see John, if not gone, though I was sure he was dead. Went straight to the doctor's room. Heard that he died at two minutes past ten o'clock ! " The Lenten season of this year Hannington kept with much severity, fasting rigorously in private every Wednesday and Friday. On April 23d he wrote to his mother, saying: "I have decided in favor of the Church. I believe that God is with me in this matter." On July 5th he received the Holy Communion for the first time. He wrote in his diary: " I am afraid whether I am fit. I was not so fixed in thought as I "wished." Shortly after, something that he read in a " fairy tale," or some train of thought started by some expression in the book he held in his hand, led him to self-examina- tion. He came to the conclusion that his frame of mind was not what it should be, and that he needed bracing up to his duties, both religious and secular. He writes, "Prayer refreshed me." It was not yet very intelligent prayer ; but it was the petition of a soul seeking, though with much blind groping, after a higher life, and, as such, was doubtless heard and answered by the Eternal Father. The next day's entry runs thus : " I have to-day been much better in work. It comes easier to me when I watch and pray." At this period of his spiritual development the func- tions of the Church evidently exercised a strong fascina- tion over him. He made a point of being present when anything was being done by the clergy in the neighbor- hood. Within a fortnight we find him at the laying of two foundation-stones of ecclesiastical buildings, and listening with admiration to speeches made by the 44 James Hannifigton. [A.D. 1868. Bishops of Chichester and Oxford. He threw himself with his accustomed energy into this newly-found chan- nel for his activity. He inaugurated, in connection with the Church Harvest-Home Festival, the first sports that had been known in Hurstpierpoint. He was to be seen frequently at services in the parish church, or at choral and other festivals. He waited diligently upon the lips of such distinguished preachers as might come within possible distance of his home. His mind was apparent- ly just in that condition in which a permanent bias, one way or the other, might have been imparted to it had he been brought into contact with one strong enough to exercise a controlling influence over him, and willing to use it. But his time had not yet come. If the town of Man- soul was beginning to feel the stress of the siege, it was by no means yet taken, or even ready to be taken by assault. The volatile and fun-loving nature of the young man soon resumed its sway over him, the newly- fanned flame of ecclesiastical ardor soon paled and died down, and though he certainly never repudiated religion, it is equally certain that, for some years to come, he laid no claim to be esteemed "religious." One important acquaintanceship, formed shortly after he came of age, was destined to exercise a very happy and altogether beneficial influence upon his character. He was introduced to Dean Burgon, then Fellow of Oriel, at the house of his brother-in-law, Archdeacon Rose. Hannington writes concerning him: "He is so kind, and seems to take a great interest in me, and gives me kind advice, which I hope that I shall follow. He soon perceives a fault. He stops to play with all the small children he sees. Mrs. Rose frequently says to him, 'Dear John, I wish they would make you a canon '; JEt. 21.] Dean Burgon. 45 and he seems to regard himself as not at all worthy of such promotion. Sunday was spent by us all, Burgon and myself included, in taking classes in the Sunday- school. He preached in the afternoon, and then took me with him for a walk." Kind attention bestowed upon a young man is seldom wasted. In Hannington's case his esteem for Dean Burgon helped to ballast him, and was no insignificant quantity in his University life. His college friends used to watch him, with an amused surprise, wending his way every Sunday evening to the Greek Testament class which Dean Burgon held in his rooms in Oriel. But he was not to be dissuaded. I do not recollect that he ever missed that class when he could by any possibility attend it. How can it be doubted that, though his spiritual nature was not as yet sufficiently awakened to enable him to enjoy Bible study for its own sake, those Bible classes did him good ? They and the society of the good and sincere man who conducted them, and whose original personality com- mended him in an especial manner to the heart of Han- nington, were safeguards and a sort of sheet-anchors, which helped to keep him from drifting whither so many have suffered shipwreck. So, then, with the full consent of his parents, the first step was taken which severed him from a commercial life, and it was decided that James Hannington should, in due time, seek for ordination as a clergyman of the Church of England. CHAPTER V. LIFE AT OXFORD. (1868—69.) " Not in the sunshine, not in the rain, Not in the night of the stars untold, Shall we ever all meet again, Or be as we were in the days of old. " But as ships cross, and more cheerily go, Having changed tidings upon the sea, So I am richer by them, I know, And they are not poorer, I trust, by me." Walter Smith. On the 226. of October, 1868, James Hannington's name was entered as a Commoner in the books of St. Mary Hall, Oxford. My own personal recollections or him date from this time. Eighteen years have passed since then. Later events have crowded out from my mind many of the earlier memories of my life, and the lichen growth of time is slowly but surely effacing some of the most deeply-grooved impressions. Nevertheless I can still without difficulty recall the moment when I first heard the sound of his voice. Why the impression of that moment should have lingered with me I cannot tell, except that his voice was a singular one — in timbre quite unlike any other voice which I have ever heard. I was seated, a solitary freshman, in a dark little room which was usually allotted to the last comer. The sin- gle lance-window looked out upon the "Quad," with its paved walks, square patch of grass, and central clump (46) JEt. 21.] His Voice. 47 of dwarf shrubs. A little disconsolate and lonely was I at that moment, wondering what sort of companions those might prove among whom my lot was to be cast during the next three years or so. As I sat in somewhat melancholy mood amongst the cups and saucers, decan- ters, and tumblers, brand-new kettle and tea-pot, and other paraphernalia of a student's housekeeping, which had been sent in that afternoon by various tradesmen, my attention was arrested by a passing group of men who cast a heavy shadow through the narrow window. They were talking loudly, but one voice separated itself distinctly from the others. I was keenly alive to every new impression, and the tone of that voice remained with me. It was half plaintive, half petulant, but, withal, wholly attractive. I fell to picturing to myself what kind of man the owner of that v T oice might me. The following day I was introduced to him, and for the first time set my eyes on James Hannington. Let me try and describe him as he was when he made his first appearance in St. Mary Hall, as a freshman, in the autumn of 1868. A tall, well-proportioned young fellow, with somewhat loosely and pliably set figure, that gave promise of both activity and power. Careless in his dress — rather affecting a soft white hat, broad- soled boots, and a general abandon of costume. His face was the very index to his character. I have before me, as I write, some dozen photographs which were taken between the years '63 and '8$. During that time the face has filled out and matured, but it is substantially the same. He was then in his twenty-first year, of pale, rather sallow, complexion. A mouth, the pouting lips of which seemed half-humorously to protest against life w general. A pair of clear gray eyes, which twinkled 48 James Hannington. [A.D. 1868. with latent fun, though deep set beneath projecting brows which suggested unusual powers of observation and penetration. A nose not too prominent, but sharp and inquiring, the nostrils of it readily expanding when moved by indignation. (He used, after his first African journey, to delight in telling how the natives would compare it to a spear !) The chin firm set, and jaws square, without any too-marked massiveness. The ears, not lying close to the head, but set at rather an angle. A face combative, yet attractive. Volatile, yet full of latent strength. Assertive, yet retiring. Altogether, quite a noticeable face and figure: not by any means to be ignored. The outer clothing of a nature capable of great things, if seized and moulded by the Divine Spirit. What otherwise — who might venture to prophesy ? Carlyle professes to attach much significance to a man's laughter. He says, " How much lies in laughter; the cipher key wherewith we decipher the whole man ! .... The fewest are able to laugh what we call laugh- ing." * Hannington would so far have satisfied his re- quirements. None who have heard his laugh can surely ever forget it. When he laughed the spirit of laughter took full possession of him, and shook him sorely before it would let him go. His laughter was contagious, he so evidently enjoyed it ; it came welling up with such wild, uncontrollable waves, that one found himself irre- sistibly compelled to give way and join in too, aye, till the tears ran down his cheeks, out of pure sympathy. His voice was, as I have said before, unlike any other; at least, any other that I have ever heard. It was not unmusical ; of considerable power too ; but with a cer- tain plaintive quaver in it, — a certain staccato thrusting . * Sartor Resartus. JEt. 2i.] Takes the College by Storm. 49 forth of single words and short sentences that was strangely characteristic of its owner. A sort of inter- mittent fountain, it corresponded with his movements. These, like his voice, were not smooth or even. He was far from being awkward; there was even a certain easy power in all that he did which was not far removed from graceful bearing, yet it was as though he studiously avoided conventional attitudes. When he walked, he walked with his whole body and shoulders; but whether he walked, stood, or sat, he was distinctly himself, and never quite like anybody else. When I first saw him, he was leaning against the lintel of the door which opened from his own staircase upon the Quadrangle. He was surrounded by a group of men, all seniors, with whom he was chatting, and evidently on the best of terms. To my freshman's eyes, beholding with awe- struck reverence those second and third year men, Han- nmgton's audacity in thus taking the college by storm seemed boundless. It was evident that, though a fresh- man, he had already been received into their circle, and that the seniors regarded him as an acquisition to their society. Perhaps this was partly owing to the fact that he came up to Oxford with more experience of the world than many others; it was more probably owing to the irre- sistible magnetism of his genial good fellowship, coupled with his decided individuality and force of character ; but, from whatever cause, there can be no doubt that he almost immediately began to exercise an influence over his fellow-students, and that he shortly established for himself an ascendency over them which he main- tained without a rival until the end of his University course. It cannot be said that Hannington was an industrious 3 50 James Hannington. [A.D. 1868. student. On the contrary, the golden opportunity of those undergraduate years was missed by him, as by so many others who vainly regret, but cannot recall, what they then despised. Not that he was ever a dunce. What he chose to learn — and he learned everything that interested him — he knew accurately and thoroughly. In chemistry, botany, natural history, and general science he was singularly well grounded, and, as a student of medicine, he would probably have taken a high degree. But for classics he had very little taste. He had never gone through that course of patient gerund-grinding and grammar-grating by which public school-boys are broken in, and he was by nature very impatient of any yoke which compelled him to plod continuously along the line of a given furrow. Some seven years, moreover, had elapsed since he left school, and what slight smat- tering of classic lore he had there acquired must have, by this time, almost passed from him. Add to which fact the consideration that the whole previous training of his life had not been such as to fit him for close study, or to accustom him to endure the strain of continual intellectual effort. We have it on no less an authority than that of Pliny, that " the mind is aroused to action by the active exer- cise of the body." This may be accepted if we under- stand by "active exercise" sufficient exercise to coun- teract the evils of a sedentary life. But we are inclined to think that more than this is apt to have a contrary effect upon the mind, and by over-development of the bodily faculties, check the development of the mental. There is no time when we are less disposed to think continuously or deeply than when we are making some great physical effort, or enjoying the excitement of a life of constant movement. Hannington had hitherto JEt. 21.] An U?idergraduates Room. 51 given himself little time to think, while at the same time he had never been idle. That he was slow in de- veloping those mental powers which, if earlier matured, might have secured for him the honors of the "schools," may be attributed largely to those constant excursions and voyages by which his love of adventure had been indulged. It must also be borne in mind that he had had, until now, no direct incentive, or even encourage- ment, to study. On the contrary, he had been taught that he might dispense with learning, the absence of which had proved no bar to the success of either his father or grandfather. It is not surprising, then, that it took some time for him to shake himself down into the course of the University curriculum, and that his degree was somewhat delayed in consequence. Hannington's rooms in St. Mary Hall bore witness to his wanderings. They were large and airy; oak panelled from floor to ceiling. In one corner, over a drawer cabi- net full of curiosities and specimens, hung two gilt and painted Icons from Moscow. Opposite was a curious drawing of a terrier's head, burnt with a branding iron upon a panel of some hard wood, and picked up I know not where. Conspicuous was a portrait of his mother, a dignified and handsome lady, with much facial likeness to her son. Elsewhere, a rack full of whips and sticks of every size and shape. A miscellaneous heap of nar- whal's and swordfish's horns, old weapons and what not, filled up a corner. A shady place was found for a con- siderable glass tank, wherein various fish, including a young jack, disported themselves. Add to all this pic- tures, china, bric-a-brac, and ornaments of the usual type, a plentiful stock of lounging chairs, with a good, capa- cious sofa of the old-fashioned square kind ; bookcases fairly well filled, especially with works on natural his- 52 James Hannington. [A.D. 1868, tory ; portfolios full of scraps, and deep, red-cushioned window embrasures in which to double up the limbs and cosily con the same, and you will have a fair idea of what those rooms were like. Here Hannington kept open house. Here his friends were wont to assemble, and here a frank and kindly wel- come always awaited all who were congenial. While Hannington had in him all the elements of popularity, and never failed to make himself liked, he did not go out of his way to make friends. He was not much inclined at this time to " suffer fools gladly." He would form strong and apparently instinctive antipathies against certain persons, antipathies for which he could offer no more valid reason than that given in Martial's celebrated epigram : " Non amo te, Sabidi, nee possum dicere quare ; Hoc tantum possum dicere, Non amo te." * Well, he may have been sometimes unjust, but, on the whole, I am inclined to think that he was not often at fault in his estimate of a man's character. Nor was he a man to be trifled with. He possessed a quick, passionate temper of his own, which it was never difficult to rouse, and those who thought to take ad- vantage of his free and open manner, or of any eccen- tricity of his, were soon disabused ; they were rarely rash enough to tempt him a second time. When seri- ously angry, he was capable de tout y and was quite formid- able. All his friends thoroughly understood this, and regulated their conduct accordingly. But through all his actions there ran a strong under- « * Which may be freely translated by the well-known couplet : " I do not like you, Dr. Fell, But why I don't I cannot tell/' JEt. 21.] A Noisy Undergraduate, 53 current of genuine kindliness, unaffected simplicity, and genial love of his kind which at once attracted others to him. He was one of the few men who, while a leader in an exclusive and hoi-polloi-despising college set, was acquainted with and popular with all down to the last- arrived freshman. He could be keenly jealous, too, for the prerogatives of his party, and his friends will recall some sufficiently stormy scenes when the authority of the " Red Club " was invaded by some daring revolu- tionary spirits, who objected to privileged oligarchies. Notwithstanding this, there was no man who succeeded better in effacing differences, and in creating among the community a healthy esprit de corps. Wherein his " great strength " lay did not appear at first, or upon a brief ac- quaintanceship. He seemed to be wholly given over to the spirit of fun — to deliberately yield himself to the perpetration of nonsense. He loved to startle and shock the sensibilities of the staid followers of established precedent. When the mood was upon him, he could be as troublesome as a school-boy, and his spirits were quite as untamable. He must surely have tried to the utmost the patience of the much-enduring and long-suffering Principal, whose tact in dealing with him cannot be too highly admired, and who won for himself Hannington's warm esteem and regard. He was accustomed, good-naturedly, to chaff everybody, and loved to play queer practical jokes upon his friends. But with all this there was an underlying earnestness of purpose which, coupled with an iron in- flexibility of will, soon made itself felt. It was generally recognized, before he had been long in residence, that he had something in him, that he knew what he wanted, and that, when once he had made up his mind that a thing ought to be done, he was not to be denied. 54 James Hannington. [A.D. 1868. He might, with boyish glee, bring- a whole armful of fireworks into college on the 5th of November, and let them off in defiance of all rules and regulations ; he might complete a festivity by galloping round the Quad upon a chair at the head of his companions in riot ; he might be known chiefly to the unthinking as the organ- izer of wild pranks, the getter-up of burlesque theatri- cals, the hospitable entertainer at noisy feasts ; but, be- neath all this, were sterling qualities which soon left their impress upon the little world in which he moved,' and caused his influence to be more deeply and widely felt than that of many older and more talented men. He was, moreover, unselfish, open-handed, and gener- ous to lavishness. He was always ready to be paymas- ter whenever his companions would consent to lay that burden upon him. Those who needed his assistance and made claim upon his purse seldom or never met with a refusal. This readiness to impart of course laid him open to the attacks of one or two " notorious sponges." But only at first. He was, as we have said, a pretty keen judge of character. If once his suspicions were aroused they were hard to allay, and then his contempt would be bluntly outspoken. His caustic wit was not to be easily endured by those whose designs upon him- self or others he thought that he had fathomed. Even his " scout," and the funny old Mother-Bunch of a bed-maker, while they found him the most considerate and liberal of masters, for his manner with servants was always courteous and winning, soon discovered that he was no fool, and not to be squeezed at their pleasure. Ah, me ! that bed-maker ! With her heavy wheezing voice in which she would perpetually "beg parding," and the slowly creaking shoes upon which she and her pails would ascend the groaning stairs ! Like all the JEt. 21 J An Inveterate Tease. 55 other servants, she " did like Mr. Hannington, but he were a curious young gentleman — yes, that he were." In his younger days Hannington was a most inveter- ate tease. He'would sometimes irritate his victim to the utmost verge of all possible endurance ; but then he thoroughly understood the principle of give and take, and never objected to be teased in return. I cannot rec- ollect him to have lost his temper, or even to have shown signs of annoyance in this game of thrust and parry. Jf some friend's own galled withers were wrung of tenet 1 than he liked, he had at least the satisfaction of know- ing that he might try his hardest to find some sensitive spot in the skin of his tormentor. At this time he was very quick to resent and avenge an insult, but he seemed even to thoroughly enjoy to be made the target for whole sheaves of arrows of legitimate " chaff." Some men are privileged. By general consent they are allowed to say and do with impunity things which would not be tolerated from others. Hannington was one of these. It was impossible to be cross with him. Even the Dons extended to him an unwritten license. Upon one occasion, I recollect, the Principal remonstrated with him by letter upon want of attention to study, and in quired how long he intended to continue " a gentleman at large." To this the irrepressible alumnus at once re- plied, " I hope that you will in future regard me no longer as a gentleman at large, but a gentleman at 'smalls'!" Who else would have dared such a re- joinder? His wit was quite unsparing. As I had at that time some small aptitude for catching likenesses, while he was an adept at rapid rhyming, he persuaded me to join with him in framing a book to be entitled the " Skimmery 56 James Hannington. [A.D. 1868. Album." In this most of the men were to be found humorously depicted and described. Few escaped the pillory, from the Principal downward. In looking back upon that work of art, I am not quite sure that either the rhymes or the drawings were always polite, or even in the best of taste; but of this I am quite sure, that no one took the jest amiss. It was " only Jim." None of his darts were poisoned. If, perchance, they caused a moment's irritation, they left behind them no envenom- ed sting, or anything that could rankle or cause per- manent pain. The man who essayed to leave his room, and found that his " oak " had been firmly screwed to the doorpost by some stealthy practitioner from with- out, and himself a helpless prisoner, after vowing ven- geance upon the unknown impertinent, would relent when he discovered that he had been victimized by the incorrigible Jim. The luckless one who returned from an evening party to find that some mischievous sprite had transformed his trim chambers into a very miscellany, and " made hay" of his goods and chattels, would smile resignedly when he traced the hand of the irrepressible joker. The very boatmen at Salter's would grin when he came down to the river, and make ready to smile at the pleasantries of the St. Mary Hall captain. He was well known everywhere, and I make bold to say, wherever he was known he was well liked. Hannington's thoroughness in carrying out whatever he undertook has already been alluded to. Under his captaincy the boat club throve and prospered. When the post of captain fell vacant, and was offered to him as the result of a unanimous vote, he made a little speech to the effect that he would accept the position, and en- deavor to do his duty in it; but on one condition only. Mt. 21.] A Stem Chase. 57 If he were to be captain, he should expect to be implic it- ly obeyed. He would resign the moment he failed to inspire confidence in the club, but he would never con- sent to be captain in name only. The boat needed a strict captain, and, if they elected him, he did not mean to give them cause to find fault with him in that respect. His speech was hailed with acclamations; and he proved himself as good as his word. He not only sought out the best men and coached them assiduously, but he kept them close to their work. Absentees were hunted up, warned, and duly exhorted to mend their ways. Punc- tuality was insisted upon. Training was rigidly exact- ed, and rules made, which, like those of the Medes and Persians, might not be altered. However, if the captain made great demands upon others, it was certain that he never spared himself, and so gave no occasion for grumbling. And how he would row ! Like everything else that he did, he did it with all his might. As he was wont to say : " I would row my heart out sooner than that we should be bumped." I find in his diary mention of one ludicrous scene over which we often laughed. The long line of " eights " that May morning lay like huge water- spiders, one behind the other, upon the surface of the still river. Each was held in its place by boathooks from the bank, and waited for the signal gun to dart forward in pursuit of the boat ahead. We were all rather nervous. We knew that we were a better crew than the one above us, but strongly suspected that we might fall a victim to the still better boat below. We sucked our slice of lemon, stripped to the thinnest of jerseys and flannels, and grimly determined to bump, if possible, before we were bumped. After the momentary confusion which followed the roar of the gun, and when 3* 58 James Hannington. [A.D. i868 ? we had settled down into our stroke, we soon found that we had our work cut out for us. The crew behind was working grandly ; the eight backs swung to and fro like a well-balanced machine; at each stroke their boat leaped from the water; it was quite evident that they were overhauling us hand over hand. Hannington was rowing just behind me at No. 7, and I knew that he was tearing at his oar like one demented, but felt too, with- out being able to see, that all was not right with him; what it was I could not tell. As we entered " the gut," where the river makes a sharp turn, the " stroke " of the boat below called upon his crew for a spurt, that they might catch us while we were held back by the drag of our rudder. The chase became exciting, the two boats almost overlapped, and the shouts from the crowd on the towing path, as the friends of the two crews mingled into one, swelled into a prolonged roar. As we, hardly escaping from our pursuer, emerged from "the gut" into the straight reach, I could not help noticing that the shouts of encouragement from the shore were inter- mixed with laughter, till by and by the laughter pre- dominated, and, to my no small disgust, the grinning faces of the crowd, as we now hugged the Berkshire shore, were evidently directed upon our boat. What had we done ? Who was doing what ? This was quite too dreadful ! I was not long, however, left in doubt. As we passed the post, and I turned to congratulate Jim upon our escape, I beheld him overwhelmed with con- fusion and shame. In his immense energy he had worked his nether garments almost wholly off, and the latter half of that hard-fought race had been rowed by him, not without frantic snatches at his disappearing raiment, garbed almost as slightly as Ulysses and his crew, as depicted upon some ancient vase ! JEt. 21.] The Last Town-and-Gown Row. 59 He was also a great canoe man. When the floods were out, and all the low country was one vast lake, from which protruded the tops of the highest hedges and the long lines of pollard willows which marked the course of streams, we would betake ourselves to light canoes = £nd seek adventures, shooting the boiling rush of the foaming " lashers," and letting ourselves be whirled down by the mad waves of the swollen and straining river. Here, as everywhere else, Jim was always to be found at the post of danger. The ugly eddy which swirled with sullen roar beneath the arch of some sunken bridge or the sweep of the deep and treacherous Cherwell, tea* ing madly through the branches of some submerged tree, which spread themselves like a net to catch and .entangle the unwary canoeist as he rounded a difficult corner — these were his delight. He became a perfect master of his tiny craft, and was soon able to paddle while standing upright almost as easily as when seated. How keenly he would enjoy the fun of a canoe race ! In this every one is allowed to do his best to hinder or over- turn his competitors ; and here Hannington's mingled boldness and dexterity gave him a great advantage. He had, too, the young Englishman's love for a stand-up fight. The 5th of November, 1868, saw the last of those " town-and-gown rows " which had been so long a disgrace to the University. The authorities had determined to put an end to the unseemly spec- tacle, and a strong force of proctors and their myrmi- dons patrolled the streets. There was, notwithstanding, a good deal of fighting. One undergraduate was killed, and others were more or less injured. Those few gowns- men who escaped the proctors and their "bulldogs" linked arms, and tried to drive the mob up the High Street before them. Hannington was, of course, in the 60 James Hannington. [A.D. 1868. thick of the melee. He had witnessed the fatal blow by which the student mentioned above had been struck down, and was filled with a Berserk rage and thirst for retribution. His friend, having just been himself " run in " by a proctor, and secured within the Hall gates, has a vivid remembrance of that indignant figure, with the light of battle in his eye, and his avenging fist stained with the gore of his adversaries, struggling in the hands of those who conducted him back to his col- lege, and compelled him to desist from the conflict. There was an undefinable charm about this bright, queer, passionate, fun-loving, unconquerable under- graduate. A mutual friend writes of him: "He was in some subtle way the life and soul of our set." With all his seeming volatility, he possessed that indescribable something which Chalmers used to call " wecht," and to which he justly attributed so great importance. That weight without which no man can achieve greatness, but the possession of which makes its owner a force in the world. And the influence which he exercised was always, even in his most careless days, in the main for good. We have seen, by the extracts quoted from his diary, that he was already accustomed to think at times deeply and seriously. It is true, if I may repeat what I have elsewhere written of him, "he was not, in his under- graduate days, a man with a definite purpose. He had not, apparently, any settled object in the regeneration of the society in which he moved; his religion, as Dodd- ridge says of Colonel Gardiner, 'still hung loose to him.' All the stops of his* nature had not yet been pulled out by the consecration of his life to Christ; the tunes played upon that life were still, perhaps, purpose- less, yet they were, withal, harmless enough. I never JEt. 21.] A Specimen Sunday. 61 knew him to fall into any of those vices common to young men. While he was eminently social, he never indulged himself to excess. During his residence at Oxford he exercised a real and entirely salubrious in- fluence over his fellows. At the club ' wines,' under his presidency, sobriety became the order of the day, and to exceed became discreditable. He was, in his wildest moments, sound at the core, and there are not a few who will have felt the better for his companionship." * We have already had occasion to remark that the boy James, however addicted to pleasure, was never given to "loafing." His very idleness was busy. We notice the same characteristic in the young man. He equally eschewed the society of the fashionable lounger, who voted energy to be "bad form," who frequented the High Street, and there exhibited, with languid grace, the faultless cut of irreproachable tailoring ; and that of the self-indulgent and beslippered novel-reader, as loth to seek his couch at night as to rise betimes from his bed in the morning. The following extract from his diary gives the details of a single Sunday which may be taken as a not unfair example of many others : — " 7 a.m., Holy Communion. 9 a.m., Chapel. 10.30, 'Varsity Sermon by Dr. Gould- burn; twenty-mile walk with E. Ashmead-Bartlett. 5.15, Chapel. 7.30, Service in St. Mary's. 9 p.m., Greek Tes- tament Lecture under Burgon." Which all must, surely, confess was a fairly well-filled day ! Hannington spent the Christmas vacation of 1868-69 in his usual energetic manner, by rushing over to Ger- many, and visiting Berlin, Dresden, and other continent- al cities in midwinter. * C. M. Intelligencer, April, 1 886. 62 James Hannington. [A.D. 1869. He was still, as the Principal put it, more disposed to play the part of the " gentleman at large " than that of the student. During the ensuing term we find notes of two visits to Cambridge, which he, of course, compares unfavorably with his own dear Alma Mater. The rest of the term is occupied with sports of various kind. E. Ashmead-Bartlett and he had struck up a great friend- ship ; and Hannington threw himself heart and soul into his friend's early successes in athletics, in which he then had an ambition to excel. He records his pleasure when Ashmead-Bartlett ran third in the 'Varsity three mile race, which secured to him the right to take pari in the next Inter-University sports. He tried his hand at the " new French two-wheeled velocipedes," then first introduced into Oxford, and which resembled the per- fect bicycle of to-day not much more closely than " Puff- ing Billy " resembles the express locomotive of the " Flying Scotsman." He gave large wines, and got up and acted in the great hall doggerel English versions of Greek plays. In fact, like other young men of high spirits and social gifts, he entered thoroughly into the enjoyments of this new life. He appreciated its free- dom, made all the more piquant by the appearance of restraint imposed by college rules, and was disposed to make the utmost of its possibilities. Though he afterwards became an efficient speaker, and could even now, upon such occasions as that nar- rated above at his Boat Club election, speak pithily and to the purpose, he was not fond of speechifying. Like some of his contemporaries, who have since found their tongues, he did not much affect the excellent college debating society, much less the debates at the Union. Action was more in his line than speech. Had he lived in the days of the Scotists and Smiglesians, he would JEt. 22.] Gratified Ambitions. 63 have, doubtless, borne a good club in Logic Lane.* He had the young Briton's thorough contempt for a " mug." To row in his college boat, and be captain of it, to be the most popular man in residence, and perhaps some day to be elected president of the then flourishing Red Club, these were things compared with which a good degree seemed but as the dust in the balance. Some little time afterwards, when these ambitions were grati- fied, he writes : " I am now captain of the boats and president of the club. So I am at the head of every- thing." Ah, well ! most healthy young minds pass through this phase of experience. The time was com- ing when those things which now seemed of least ac- count would bulk most largely in his eyes — when he too would " put away childish things." In the meanwhile his life went on as before, little changed by his adoption of those outward and visible signs of learning, the cap and gown. The Long Vaca- tion of '69 — as though his whole life hitherto had not been one long vacation — was spent in a yachting tour, during which he visited the coast and ports of Holland. Of this trip a few notes from his diary may be sufficient. While at Antwerp, he writes : " I am rather astonished at myself, on viewing for the third time Rubens' ' De- scent from the Cross.' I have lately been studying con- tinental pictures very keenly, and have, I think, a better eye for merit than formerly. The first time I beheld it with disappointment, the second time with indifference, *"The followers of Duns Scotus and Martin Smiglesius, who lived respectively in the fourteenth and sixteenth centuries. The students used to adopt their tenets, and when argument failed, would try to cudgell each other into acquiescence. Logic Lane is ' a narrow defile where the partisans used to encounter,' hence its name."— Addison {Essay XCL, " On Managing a Debate") 64 James Hannington. [A.D. 1869. the third time with rapture. The figures I cannot help thinking too muscular, and the features coarse to vul- garity, but the lifelessness of the body and the coloring seem to me perfection. I could not take my eyes off the picture, until the man, thinking I had had enough for my money, covered it up." Hannington next took his steam yacht up the Rhine, and had some exciting adventures on the rapid waters of that treacherous river. Once the ship caught fire. " We had proceeded about two miles past Bommel, when the steward came to me and called me aside most mys- teriously. He thought he had better inform me quite privately that smoke was pouring up through the ship's floor. I darted down below and found, as he said, the cabin full of smoke. There was no doubt that the ship was on fire. ' Send quickly for the carpenter, and don't tell the others for a few minutes. Now, carpenter, keep your head cool : the vessel is on fire ! tear up this floor at once ! ' Then running on deck to the pilot : ' Bring up as quickly as possible. Engineer, draw fires, and be ready if I want you for a stiffish piece of work.' We could find no fire under the cabin, but everywhere smoke. Then we went to the coal bunk, and directly it was opened the smoke rolled out in volumes. My heart sank. The coals on fire ! Nothing could save her from utter destruction ! We turned the coals over, but found no fire, although the smoke kept rolling out. Next it began to burst out behind the donkey engine. Dread- ful suspense ! Be calm ! With much difficulty we tore up the engine-room floor, and then saw the keel in a blaze ! Bad as this was, it was a relief to have found the enemy. I shouted to the men, who had gathered anxiously round, to stand to the buckets, and, stripping off coat and waistcoat I took one myself ; and then, turn ,Et. 22.] An Adventure. 65 ing on all the taps, we speedily filled her with water to the floor, and thus extinguished the flame. It was an anxious time, however. The fire appeared to be in close proximity to the coals, of which w.e had a large supply. Had they been ignited our chance of escape would have been small. It resulted from the ash-pan almost, if not quite, resting upon the wooden keel. The iron had be- come red hot, and kindled the wood. Why, indeed, this had not happened before I cannot tell." Next comes the following entry : — " Brought up at Nimegen; created a most profound sensation. It appears that the Queen's yacht, the Fairy, is the only one that has yet ascended the Rhine, so the people think that I must be of the blood royal. On landing everybody was so obsequiously polite that I had almost too much of a good thing. However, without assuming to myself any dignity beyond that of an ordinary English gentle- man of great affability, I inspected with great interest all that is to be seen in this out-of-the-way little place, unnoticed by Murray or Bradshaw." Any generation of overweening pride was, however, properly checked by the next adventure. " We steamed on to the Prussian frontier. Here I had to land, and, in spite of explanations that the yacht was not either a merchant or passenger vessel, I had to make a manifest of everything on board — rice, salt, tobacco, wine, etc. Of course, I did not know in the least what we actually had. I, therefore, told the man whatever came into my head, as a pound or two of tea, two loaves of bread, fifty bottles of wine, etc. I then had to sign my name to four different papers to vouch for the accuracy of my statement. Anybody can imagine my delight when, having solemnly made my declaration, I was informed that the custom-house officers would come on board 66 James Hannington. [A.D. 1869. directly to see if my statement were true ! It was an in- sult hard to brook without flying into a passion. In a few minutes ten officers arrived. I received them as if they were of the utmost importance, but at the same time as if I was more so. I then told the steward to take them round, but to show them nothing else but the joint of meat. I, in the meantime, got hold of one who seemed the most officious, and although he declared in a loud voice that he would not touch a thing, I managed to pour a glass of my very best down his throat, while his subordinates were below. We shook hands repeatedly, and became sworn friends. They finally declared that they must have a bottle of wine to test its strength, which they did, and sent it back in half an hour with a charge of about £1 on my declaration, which I thought moderate." To his great satisfaction, Hannington was able to bring the yacht to Cologne at the time appointed to meet his father. He had had many difficulties to con- tend with. The navigation of the river proved both tedious and dangerous for a vessel of the lo/e's draught. Many times they stuck upon sandbanks, or were stranded upon hidden reefs. The pilot again and again urged him to telegraph to his father to announce the impossi- bility of reaching Cologne by the day mentioned. To this he had but one reply : " I have undertaken to be there." And there, on the 7th of August, to the surprise of all, he was. All this was, no doubt, conducive to the formation of character. It helped to produce in him that self-reliance and readiness of resource which afterwards so remark- ably distinguished him as a missionary pioneer. But it did not help him much to make up leeway in his classic- al education. Mt. 22.] Goes to Devonshire. 6 7 It is not surprising, therefore, to learn that, when he returned to Oxford in the autumn of '69, and at once took up his old role as Master of the Revels, the Prin- cipal strongly recommended him to seek out a compe- tent tutor in some quiet and retired part of the country, where there would be few distractions, and where he would have no temptation to seek other friends than his books. For this purpose he suggested the Rev. C. Scriven, Rector of Martinhoe. He could not have selected a bet- ter man. But the place ! Alas ! how could the Princi- pal, with all his kindly forethought, know that this per- plexing undergraduate would find in Devonshire peas- ant folk, and still more in Devonshire cliffs and seas, distractions even greater than college life could offer him ? CHAPTER VI. MARTINHOE. (1870—73.) "A great, broad-shouldered, genial Englishman." Princess. Martinhoe and Trentishoe are two small sister par- ishes on the wild north coast of Devonshire, about half- way between Ilfracombe and The Foreland. Far from any railway station, they are shut off from the rest of the world by their inaccessibility. The population of the two parishes, at that time held by Mr. Scriven, does not much exceed three hundred souls. These are, how- ever, scattered over a wide extent of country. A lonely place is this corner of North Devon, and out of the way. A place of wide-stretching moorland ; dark, weather- scarped cliffs, and rocks worn and torn by the ceaseless sweep of Atlantic billows. Hannington writes of his first impression of the district : " The country round is magnificent, and I soon fell in love with both place and people." The impression which he himself made upon the party at the Rectory is recorded in another note : " I found out that their opinion of me is that I am very eccentric." However, in a very short time, not only they, but the simple country folk around, learned to love him, and to regard him as, in a peculiar sense, their own. He en- tered thoroughly into the pursuits of the people, and was soon widely known among them. Before he had (68) JEt. 22.] Customs of the Devonians. 69 been long at Martinhoe he was welcomed everywhere, in farm-house and cottage, as a personal friend. The strange habits and customs of the Devonians, al- most unaltered through centuries, interested him greatly; he studied them sympathetically, while he keenly en- joyed the humor of them. The following is an extract from his diary: "Feb. 20th. — We had a funeral this week. The be- reaved gave a tremendous feast on the occasion to those who were invited ; and any others who chose to attend went to the house for tea and coffee. On Sunday they all came to church in a body. They came in very late, and sat together in a conspicuous place, remaining the whole time of the service with their faces buried in their pocket-handkerchiefs ; nor did one once look up. A short time since, the clerk at Trentishoe lost his wife. A few days after the funeral he asked for a holiday, borrowed a horse, and rode round the parish to sound all the young women on the question of matrimony. He arrived at the Parsonage and proposed to both the servants, but was refused. At last he found a lady bold Enough and willing to take the step, and she bids fair to make him a good wife. " There is an immense deal of superstition about here. Neither man, woman, nor child will enter a churchyard after dark, and on Midsummer night they say that the spirits of the departed move about the graves, and are to be seen. Many of the people know charms for differ- ent diseases, and are in great repute. Old John Jones can bless for the eyes: and afterwards offered to reveal the secret to me, in which case he would be able to ' bless ' no more, the gift becoming mine. " Mrs. Jones i to the parsonage ' has a seventh son, 70 James Hannington. [A.D. 1870. who has power to bless for the King's evil. Numbers resorted to him, but finding that he did not get sufficient from them, and that every time he ' blessed ' virtue went from him, and left him weak, he has discontinued the practice." The belief in witches still holds sway over the minds of the people. They have unbounded faith in charms and spells. I remember once to have had a conversation with Hannington on the subject of the supposed miracles at Knock, Lourdes, and other places. Whatever might be the source of the alleged healings, he warned me against summarily concluding that no cures had taken place. He said that he had himself seen the strangest cures effected in Africa by medicine-men with their fetish ; cures of which, to an impartial beholder, there could be little doubt. He then narrated some remarkable cases of persons who had, under his own observation, been healed by recourse to men or women who were supposed to be endowed with the power to " bless." He was of opinion that certain diseases — in fact, all those diseases which were directly or indirectly nervous — might, in cer- tain cases, be healed by a strong faith in — anything. The reader will, no doubt, recall the case mentioned both by Pascal, and also by Racine in his history of Port Royal, in which a daughter of Madame Perier was cured of a lachrymal fistula of a very bad kind, which had dis- figured her face for more than three years, by a touch from a supposed Thorn from the Crown. Supposing this cure to have been really effected — and it is testified to by no less authorities than Pascal, Ar- nauld, and Le Maitre — there is no need to believe that any special virtue resided in the " Holy Thorn." Rather Mt. 22.] As a "Medicine-man" yi that the extent to which it is possible for the mind to sway the body has not yet been accurately ascertained. Upon one occasion, and I believe one only, Hannington was induced to experiment upon the credulity of the peo- ple. The result was notable. He had a decided taste for the study of medicine, and had picked up at different times no small practical knowledge of it. The country doctor, indeed, trusted him so far as to seek his assist- ance in reporting upon and caring for many of the sim- pler cases of sickness. His repute as a " medicine-man " among the country folk themselves was great. They placed unlimited confidence in him. Upon the occasion to which allusion has been made, he was asked to pre- scribe for a certain woman who appeared 'to be in the last stage of consumption. She had been under medical treatment for years, but had obtained no relief. Han- nington filled a phial with water slightly flavored and colored, and attached to the cork a small leaden medal, such as is found on some bottles of eau-de-Cologne. This he gravely presented to the woman, merely saying to her, " When you take a dose, first turn the bottle round three times three ; and, whatever you do, take care that you do not lose that leaden medal, but return it to me when you are well." From that hour the woman began to amend ; in a very brief time the medal was returned — an appar- ently complete cure had been effected. I make no com- ment upon this, but give the story as nearly as possible in the same words in which he narrated it to me. After some more or less spasmodic reading, Hanning- ton returned to Oxford on March 19th, and went into the schools to pass his " smalls." During the first day of the examination he had good hopes of success ; but on the second day an ill-conditioned organ-grinder took up his station outside the "theatre," and with thehorri- 7 2 James Hannington. [A.D. 1870. ble iteration of his popular airs drove all thoughts out of the distracted head of the unhappy student. In a fit of irritable despair he rushed out and withdrew his name. The next term Hannington spent in residence. He was at this time elected President of the " Red Club," which, with the captaincy of the Boat Club, was the highest social honor that we were able to confer upon him. On the 10th of June he again tried to pass his Re- sponsions, and this time successfully. The next entry in the diary is again from Martinhoe. Hannington had discovered a new source of delight. The cliffs descended to the sea in sheer, precipitous walls of three or four hundred feet. In few places was access to their base possible, except to bold and expe- rienced climbers. A perilous scramble from ledge to ledge in search for chough's eggs revealed the existence of some remarkable caves, the largest of which was then and there dubbed Cave Scriven. These caves, carved out by the foam-fingers of the tireless sea, fringed with immense fronds of fern, pillared with stalactite, and floored with firm white sand, the safe and undisturbed citadel of birds, were quite inaccessible to any but a cragsman. Hannington at once resolved that they should be seen and explored by the party at the Rec- tory, and for that purpose set to work to make a prac- ticable path down to the shore. Into this business he threw himself with characteristic energy. The engin- eering difficulties to be overcome were not small. The cliff was in many places a sheer precipice — nowhere could foothold be obtained except upon treacherous projections or crumbling ledges. However, he writes : *'On Sept. 1st we commenced, and secured two able- JEt. 22.] Amateur Engineering. 73 bodied men and old Richard Jones to help. When Richard was a boy he had been the best hand in the parish at climbing the ' cleve ' (cliff), but now he was old and crippled. We thought, however, he might be useful to do odd jobs, so at 7 a.m. we all turned out with ' pick-isses,' ' two-bills,' crowbars, and spades, and made our way to the scene of action." It will be observed that Hannington had, as usual, succeeded in carrying along with him all his friends, the other pupils at the Rectory, and even the servants. His enthusiasm was the most infectious thing in the world. The most ridiculous project became, when he threw himself into its execution, the all-absorbing busi- ness of the hour. Thus, for the time being, the interest of the parish was concentrated upon this wonderful " path," which was to lead down the face of a danger- ous cliff, from nowhere in particular to nobody knew where. Though the leader of this pioneer corps of sappers and miners was almost incapacitated by a severe attack of shingles, he refused to succumb, and himself marked out the first section of the path. The party, amateurs and hired laborers, then set to work in good earnest, and soon made the first part of a practicable zigzag. When they got well down over the edge, however, the rocks proved very rotten, and after several narrow es- capes, the enthusiasm of some was damped, and the two able-bodied workmen refused to risk their lives further. Old Richard alone remained undaunted; and, with his help, and that of George Scriven, the path was at last completed. Some graphic extracts from the diary explain how it was done. Old Richard was clinging on to a landslip, and plying his pick as best he could, when Hannington cried to him, "/Hold on, Richard, till I 4 74 James Hannington. [A.D. 1871. come back to you; I am going to climb down a bit fur- ther, and see where we can next take the path to.' Old Richard, however, was a man who could not stand idle, as I found to my cost; for when I had crept down some distance I heard the rush of a stone, and a considerable boulder shot past my head, within a foot of me. I had barely time to dodge as it whizzed by like a cannon- ball, accompanied by a volley of small stones, and I could feel the draught of air it made. With a shout I apprised Richard that I was below, and climbed up like a lamplighter, and stood by his side pale and breathless. He was quite cool. ' I don't like the look of that old rougey place where you have been climbing/ said he. Nor do I, thought I to myself, when you are working up above. If you are not the coolest old hand I ever met- ! However, I said nothing ; but after dinner George and I climbed across this ' rougey place/ with the assistance of a rope, and determined that we would not return until we had cut our own path back. Old Richard now gave in. He took back to the village the news that he was beaten now. So George and I did it by ourselves. Capital fellow is George, and just as determined as myself that we should succeed, even if the whole cliff came down about our ears." There was much triumph when the work was com- pleted. An opening day was arranged, and a party of twenty visitors descended the dizzy path down to " The murmuring surge That on the unnumbered idle pebbles chafes," and were introduced to the wonders of the new-found caves. The following entry appears opposite January 1, 187 1: "Received the Holy Communion with great misgiv- ings. Reflected upon the manner in which I had spent ^Et. 23.] A Narrow Escape. 75 the past year, and made resolutions, which, alas ! soon failed." A day or two later he was almost drowned while skat- ing. The same evening, however, he went to a Devon- shire farmer's party, which he thus describes : " I am going to 'see Christmas,' which is Devonian for 'I am going to a party.' We arrived at 6 p.m., when a hot sup- per was ready — three hot roast joints, etc.; after which, games, dancing, and the like went on till midnight, when there was another hot supper as substantially provided as the first. Then cards commenced till 8 a.m., when there was a hot breakfast." Hannington does not say whether he saw this party out, but apparently it is not uncommon on such occasions for guests to remain even until noon, when they wind up the festivities with a final dinner. The habits of our beef-and-ale-consuming fore- fathers still linger in hospitable Devonshire. A week later Hannington found himself in nearly as awkward a position as that of the elderly gentleman who, while probing the clefts of the rocks for anemones at low tide, was seized by the finger and held fast in the tenacious grip of a huge crustacean. Tradition says that he was drowned. The same fate might easily have befallen our adventurous explorer of caves. He says : "On the 12th of January I asked Morrell and George Scriven to join in an excursion to a cave we called 'The Eyes,' two small holes just large enough to creep through, which penetrated a headland. While there, we discov- ered below water mark a hole which seemed to pene- trate some distance ; so, with no little squeezing and pushing, I wound my way in, and found myself in a large hollow chamber with no other outlet than the one I had entered by. It would have been a dreadful place in which to be caught by the tide. The water gradually *j6 James Hannington. [A.D. 1871. rising in the utter darkness would drown one like a rat in a trap. I explained all this melodramatically to my companions outside till they grew quite impatient. ' Well, come out then,' said Morrell, ' for the tide is fast coming up, and we shall have a job to return.' So I crawled down to the entrance and essayed to come out head first. I soon stuck fast, and after great squeezing and squirming, barely managed to get back again inside. Next I tried to get out as I came in, and so worked my way down feet first. It was no go, I was again jammed tight. My two friends then got hold of my legs, and pulled and pulled till I thought my legs and body would part company. Matters really began to look serious. I was bruised and strained a good deal, and escape seemed impossible. And now the full horror of the situation flashed across us all. My mocking words were actually to be realized ! I said in the best voice I could that I must say good-b)^; but if ever I passed a dreadful mo- ment it was that one. The tide was creeping up slowly but surely. Applying all their 'strength they pushed me back into the entrance that I might make one more effort head first. Then it suddenly occurred to us all that I might try without my clothes. No sooner said than done; and after a good scraping I soon stood once more by their side. But it was a narrow escape ! " Nothing daunted by this adventure, Morrell and he set themselves to conquer " the champion climb amongst the natives." Twice they were defeated. It seemed to them that "no mortal man could go up." The third time they were successful, scaled the dizzy height, and " were made free of the cliffs." Hannington kept the next two terms at St. Mary Hall. He was now twenty-three, but the boyish spirit was not in the least abated. Vide the following : Mt. 23.] Trip to Norway. jj " April 2$th. — For a bet I wheeled Captain Way up the High Street in a wheelbarrow, and turned him out opposite the Angel Hotel." The Easter Vacation was spent in a yachting trip with his own people. They all had a pleasant time on the bright waters of the south coast. Whenever there was a bit of rough work to be done, James always undertook it. " Now, men," he was wont to say, " you remember me up the Rhine. No putting back to-day, mind ! " On several occasions, while the rest of the party went by rail to avoid some stormy foreland, he took charge of the yacht; never better pleased than when a real stiff sea had to be encountered, or a difficulty overcome. As he was not in good health, he next took advantage of doc- tor's advice to make a yachting voyage to Norway. There he made the most of his time, appreciatively seizing upon all strange ways, quaint sayings, and queer surroundings, and making himself very popular with the Norwegians, whether pigge, postboy, or boatman. One story we may quote from his diary : " The land- lord at Gudvangen, Herr S., is quite a character. He dances round one, and his long hair flies about in a most ludicrous way. ' He shall sit up all night if he shall make you comfortable'; and to commence adding to your comfort he pats you on the back. Then he is full of bitter remorse because you tell him that the maid (pigge) will grease your boot-laces. * He shall send her away ; he shall do it himself ; it shall break his heart if you are not comfortable.' Herr S. speaks good English, but he likes to add to his vocabulary. Some one said that tne Germans were fond of guzzling beer. The con- versation dropped, but not the word. It dwelt in Herr S.'s mind. The next morning we were at the river 78 James Hannington. [A.D. 1871. Herr S. expressed a thousand regrets that it was so clear. Said he : 'If only you could get a little guzzling water you shall catch fish.' We found that he thought that ' guzzling ' meant thick / " On July 18th he was back once more at Martinhoe ; reading, cliff-climbing, and botanizing — chiefly, I im- agine, the two latter. His zeal for exploring the wave- worn nooks of the perilous coast had infected the others. Parties were constantly made up to reach some new cave or test the practicability of some hitherto impossible track. Hannington never tired of describing these ad- ventures. On one occasion they were creeping along a narrow ledge of rock overhanging a " vasty deep," when they came to a place where the ledge turned at right angles, and was, moreover, blocked by a mass of jutting rock. A long stride over the obstacle is required. He writes : "As I knew the place best, I stepped on first, and then began to help the others across. All got over safely till it came to R 's turn. I was sitting on the ledge, and held out my hand to him. He somehow missed the hand, slipped, and lost his balance. The fearful look of terror that flashed over his face, accom- panied by a low moan and gasp of despair, I shall not easily forget. I dashed at him, caught him by the arm, and, gripping the rock with one hand, held him for a moment dangling in the air. Fortunately, George was at hand, and seized my wrist, otherwise we must, both of us, have gone over and been lost. Together we hauled him up, and I soon had the satisfaction of hear- ing him say, as he shook me by the hand: ' Thank you for my life ! ' I, however, was myself quite as much in- debted to George." Good Mr. Scriven did not half like these perilous freaks. But, while the mania lasted, there was no keeping his " pups " off the cliffs. To use his JEt. 23.] His " Dearest, Sweetest Mother" 79 favorite expression, they were "like moths buzzing round a candle." " Aug. $t/i. — Helped to put new east window in the church. I had recommended Baillie, and had obtained the design." "Aug. 26th. — Took Lord Tenterden, Mr. Justice Pol- lock, and some others to see the caves. They expressed the greatest astonishment at the engineering of the path, and the magnificence of the caves." Next occurs the following : " I suggested to Mr. Scriven that I should come to him at once as his curate, and read for my Degree after wards." To this he adds in a note written long after : "Very fortunately the Bishop would not consent to ordain me until I had taken my Degree." Fortunately, indeed ! In this, as in other things, we can trace the good Hand of his God upon him. And now an event took place which moved him to the centre of his being. The controlling love of his life had been that of his mother. The boyish tenderness for his " dearest, sweetest mother," had not been impaired by time. No other affection had ever usurped his heart. He was the least susceptible of men to the charms of women. No Adonis could have seemed more wholly unassailable by what is called love. His friends and companions were mainly, and, indeed, almost exclusive- ly, of his own sex. Not that he was unpopular with women : far from it. But in whatever light they may have regarded him, in his eyes they were but weaker men, to be treated with chivalrous consideration, but otherwise as companions — nothing more. His whole love was given to his mother. She, on her part, fully So James Hannington. [A.D. 1871—72, reciprocated his affection, and found an ever fresh de- light in the devotion of her favorite son. Mrs. Han- nington had, for some time, been seriously ill. On the 30th of September of this year, 1871, her doctor pro- nounced that there was little or no hope of her recovery. James was in an agony of mind ; he could not believe that such grief was in store for him. In a few days the crisis seemed to pass, and his mother, to his intense re- lief, rallied. He determined, notwithstanding this, to remain by her side instead of returning to Oxford to keep Term. As the days dragged wearily by, matters did not improve. It was evident that his mother was sinking. She was very happy and peaceful. As for James, he wrote : "We had but a melancholy Christmas Day, and mournfully closed the year. The doctor gives my mother no hope, and yet there seems to be hope. I cannot but hope — I must hope." He found time, in the midst of this racking anxiety, to run up to Oxford, at the urgent request of his friends there, to settle a quarrel which had occurred in the St. Mary Hall Boat Club. But, having set matters straight, and prevailed upon the then Captain to resign, he at once returned to Hurst. On February 14th his mother submitted to the operation of tapping. She bore it with a patient resignation which was deeply touching to her husband and children. She got, however, very little relief. On the 24th, James writes : " Very, very ill." On the 26th : " I went in to her at eight a.m., and at once saw that the end could not be far off. She was almost unconscious. She kept dozing and rousing, and commencing sentences. Especially she would repeat again and again : ' I will take the stony heart out of their flesh, and will give them an heart of flesh. I will take — I will take the stony heart away — away.' " iEt. 24.] His Mother s Death. 8 1 So the bright, active, brave spirit, which in so many points resembled that of her favorite son, went down, step by step, to the brink of the still river ; and her son would hardly let her go — would have held her, but could not. About three o'clock in the afternoon she ceased her broken utterances ; at about five o'clock her arms, which had gently swayed to and fro, moved no longer, and at seven she died in the presence of all her children. After the last reverent look, the others moved sadly away. As for James, he fell on her face, and kissed her, and cried to her, as though she could still hear him. Scarce knowing what he said, he besought her again and again to come back to him — not to leave him when he most wanted her. By and by came the faithful old nurse, and, with gentle compulsion, led him away. Mrs. Hannington had always felt an almost morbid dread lest she should be buried before life was actually extinct. She had mentioned this to her son, and he had promised that he would assure himself that death had taken place before the interment. This explains the following note : " I promised my mother to see her six times after she was dead. I saw her seven, and there could not be the slightest doubt that she was gone." Indeed, it was almost impossible to tear him away from her bedside. He would sit there in the silent gloom, hour after hour, plunged in grief that refused to be comforted. Or he would be found kneeling by that figure so mysterious and still beneath its enveloping sheet. They had to coax and almost to compel him from the presence of the dead in order that he might take rest or meals. On Saturday, March 20th, the fu- neral took place in the Parish Church of Hurtspierpoint, " Hundreds attended, coming from miles round." So the desire of his eyes was taken away at a stroke. 82 James Hammigton. [A.D. 1872 — 73. It is clear to us now why this should have been. His heart was to be emptied that it might be filled with that only love which does not fade, and which cannot be taken away. Had James Hannington written an epitaph upon his mother's tomb, it would have been couched in some such terms as that most touching inscription in a Paris cemetery — "Dors enfiaix, O ma mere; ton fils fobeira toujours." Her memory always exercised over him a hallowing influence. Nevertheless, it was, perhaps, need- ful for him that the human voice should speak no more words of advice and sympathy, that he might be taught to listen for the sound of that " still, small voice " which whispers to those who have ears to hear : " This is the way, walk thou in it." In May, 1872, Hannington successfully passed his " Moderations," and resided for some time in the house of Mr. Morfill, of Oriel, with whom he decided to read for his next Examination. After a short vacation he continued his studies with Mr. Rumsey, and determined that he would put an end to trifling, and pass the final examination for his Degree as soon as possible. • The following entry occurs for October 18th : — "Fa- ther, Bessie, and Blanche Gould came to stop at Oxford a few days. Took them to hear Canon Liddon, who preached a magnificent sermon." A few days later a letter appeared on his breakfast-table, in which his father announced his intention of marrying again, and that the latter lady had consented to become his wife. This second marriage turned out very happily, and by and by Hannington, no doubt, understood that it was better thus than that his father should be left to brood over his grief in a house from which .his children had flown to make homes for themselves. But coming so soon after the death of his mother, to whom he knew JEt. 24, 25.] Made a B.A. 83 that his father had been tenderly attached, it is not to be wondered at if, at first, the new alliance troubled him, or that his diary should record his feelings in the words, " I am terribly cut up and cast down." He set to work, however, in good earnest to bring to a close his already too prolonged University course, and, early in December, passed with credit the first part of " Greats." On May 15th, 1873, he rowed for the last time in the " eight." " Bumped Keble." " Should have caught Ex- eter, but No. 3 caught a crab instead." Apparently the crew rather fell to pieces towards the end of the week, for the next entry runs : " Of all atrocious horrors, this is the most disgusting. We have been re-bumped by Keble ! " "May 2%th. — Lunched at Morfill's. 3 p.m., garden party at Morrell's. 9 p.m., ball at Masonic Hall, given by Ashmead-Bartlett." And so on through a list of " Commemoration " festivities. On June 12th Hannington took his B.A. Degree. CHAPTER VII. THE TURNING-POINT. — ORDINATION. — THE GREAT CHANGE. (1873—74.) " I have been from my childhood alway of a Tumorous and stormy nature." Luther. " We took sweet counsel together, and walked in the house of God as friends." Ps. lv. 14. " O most sweet Lord Jesus, by Thy holy Infancy, Youth, Bap- tism, Fasting, scourges, buffets, thorny crown, — Deliver us." St. Anselm. "About this time," Hannington writes, "a different tone began to steal over me insensibly. I prayed more." About this time also a certain friend of his who had recently received Holy Orders, and who was serving as Curate in a country parish in Surrey, began to think of him. In the solitude of his lodgings, when the day's work was done, and he was alone with his own thoughts, his mind would rest lovingly upon old college friend- ships. He thought of James Hannington — gay, impetu- ous, friendly, fun-loving Jim — and gradually it was laid upon his heart to pray for him. Why, he could not tell ; but the burden of that other soul seemed to press upon him more heavily day by day. He had not had much experience in dealing with souls; he had but a short time before learned the meaning of "effectual, fervent prayer "; he would have been called "a babe" by St. Paul; not yet even a " young man," much less " a father." But his life had been transformed within him, and filled (84) ,Et. 25.] An Old Pair of Skates. 85 with a new and most radiant joy. He knew himself re- deemed, and in union with the Father of Spirits with whom is no changeableness, neither shadow of turning. He could not now have lived over again that old college life of his as once he had been content to live it. He thought of many friends. To some he spoke, and tried to make them partakers with him of his new-found benefit. For some he sought to pray, but for none can he ever remember to have prayed with such a distinct sense that he must pray as for James Hannington. I find the following entry in Hannington's diary : "July i5t/i- — opened a correspondence with me to-day, which I speak of as delightful ; it led to my con- version." Young men are not, as a rule, good correspondents, and between these twain no letter had passed for nearly two years. Communication was reopened in the follow- ing manner. A pair of skates was the ostensible cause. The Curate found them, with other rubbish, in a box full of odds and ends, and, holding them in his hand, remem- bered that they had belonged to Hannington, with whom, after the manner of chums, he had held many things in common. Then and there he sat down and wrote to Hurstpierpoint, asking his friend in what quarter of the world he might be found, and whither he would wish those same skates to be sent. The letter was forwarded to Martinhoe. In due time came a kindly response. " Glad to hear from you again. Never mind the skates ; keep them, or throw them away — anything you like ; but tell me about yourself," and so on. Then followed the news that he was meditating ordination ; was not sure that he was as fit as he ought to be, with more to the same effect, all written lightly enough, but with a certain something 86 James Hannington. [A.D. 1873, of seriousness which induced the Curate to think that the opportunity he had been seeking might have, per- chance, arrived. He resolved to avail himself of the opening thus given, though not without a certain dread. He was naturally loth to lose the friendship of one for whom he enter- tained a warm affection. He remembered Hannington's openly expressed dislike of religious enthusiasm, and his contempt for all canting protestations of superior piety. It was not without a mental struggle that he de- termined to lay bare his own heart to an eye only too probably unsympathetic. It seemed likely that this let- ter of his might open a wide gulf between them. Still, if friendship was to be lost, it should be at least well lost. So he reasoned, and, with prayer for guidance, just wrote a simple, unvarnished account of his own spiritual experience ; tried to explain how it had come to pass that he was not as formerly ; spoke of the power of the love of Christ to transform the life of a man, and draw out all its latent possibilities ; and finally urged him, as he loved his own soul, to make a definite surren- der of himself to the Saviour of the world, and join the society of His disciples. This done, the Curate walked, not without misgivings as to the wisdom of the course he had adopted, to the miscellaneous little shop which did duty in the village as drapery and grocery store, post-office, and what not, and dropped his letter into the box. For thirteen months no answer was returned. Prayer was made without ceasing, and still under the sense of a burden imposed, but there was no response. The Curate concluded that his letter had been consigned to the ob- livion of the waste-paper basket. He was, however, wrong. During those months events &t. 26.] A Repulse. 87 were happening at Martinhoe. The Hand of God was not idle, and the seed was germinating. " Thou visitest the earth, and waterest it : Thou greatly enrichest it ; The river of God is full of water ; Thou providest corn, when Thou hast so prepared the earth ; Thou waterest her furrows abundantly; Thou settlest the ridges thereof: Thou makest it soft with showers ; Thou blessest the springing thereof: Thou crownest the year with Thy gladness." — Ps. Ixv. But seed, whether sown in the heart of a man or in the furrows of the field, must be allowed time to develop and strike root. The husbandman must not be impa- tient, but wait for the " crown of the year." Seed had been sown in Hannington's heart which was not destined to perish ; but that heart still needed fur- ther preparation for its upspringing. We may compare the events that followed, with their wholesome lacera- tion of his pride, to the harrow in the Hand of his God. On September 8th he writes : " The Bishop has put the exam, a week earlier, which will, no doubt, entirely undo me, as I have left my Prayer-Book for the last fortnight's reading." He had yet, then, to learn that " cramming," however permissible in other cases, should have no place in an examination for such a charge as that. He goes on to record : " Sept. 17th. — Exeter ; in uncomfortable lodgings. Did a paper at 9.30 ; fairly well, n.30, another paper ; did well. 1.30, dined with the Bishop. 5.30, another paper. 8 p.m., chapel, with a sermon from the Bishop. " i8t/i. — Over-read last night. Passed a sleepless night ; woke exceedingly unwell. Three more papers, one of which was the Prayer-Book. Unable to do any- 88 James Hamii?igton. [A.D. 1873. thing ; had been disappointed of a week's reading, and was also very ill. " 19th. — Another bad night. Three more papers ; and on the 20th was, as I thought, unkindly dismissed by the Bishop — ' I am sorry to say that your paper on the Prayer- Book is insufficient. If you go down to Mr. Percival, he will tell you all about it. Good-morning.' I was so con- founded that I was nearly overwhelmed with despair. Mrs. Dovell told me afterwards that she thought I should have died or gone off my head." Hannington told me, some time after, that the shame and confusion of his failure came upon him at first as a sickening blow. He thought that he should never raise his head again. Then, as he thought of his own unwis- dom and of the Bishop's hard manner towards him, he gave way to an ungovernable burst of passion. He was filled will furious madness, partly against himself, and partly at the recollection of what seemed like an insult inflicted on him. He was suffering himself to be swept along upon the full tide of this stormy mood, when sud- denly the thought struck him, as though he heard spoken words of warning, " If you ca?i give way like this, are you fit to offer yourself as a minister of Christ ? " He was sobered in an instant. It seemed to him that his defeat had been ordered in the providence of God. He resolved to accept it humbly, and to strive to ap- prove himself a more worthy candidate upon another occasion. Hannington now went back to Oxford, in order that he might read with Mr. Morfill. The following sad oc- currence impressed him : " Loyd, one of our men, nephew to Lord , cut his throat last night. This has throwr a gloom over the place. He is just alive. He