YALE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY THE LIFE OF JOHN KEBLE JOHN KEBLE. From a Portrait by George Richmond, R.A. JOHN KEBLE A BIOGRAPHY WALTER LOCK, M.A. FELLOW OF ST. MART MAGDALEN COLLEGE, AND &TJB-WARDEN OF KEBLE COLLEGE, OXFORD WITH A PORTRAIT FROM A PAINTING BY GEORGE RICHMOND, R.A. 18, BUKY STREET, LONDON, W.C. 1893 [All rights reserved] Richard Clat & Sons, Limited, London & Bungay. 'Z-"-c\ \* K l3il ¦ LD SOROEI ME^E HAS PRIMITIAS QUAS IPSA FOVIT, AUXIT, CASTIOAVIT, GEATUS DEDIQP. PREFACE. Two reasons give a special appropriateness to the publication of a memoir of Mr. Keble at the present time. This year is the hundredth anniversary of his birth, a fact which reminds us how quickly time is flying, and in its flight bearing off those who could speak cf him with first-hand knowledge. Again, much has been published of late throwing light on the Oxford Movement ; The Oxford Movement, by Dean Church, The Letters and Correspondence of J. H. Newman, The Autobiography of Isaac Williams, are books of very varied character, but they all agree in one point : they all bear a strong witness to the force, the originality, the stimulating power of that character whose humility and self-repression have cften caused his real work to be undervalued. This memoir will be found, it is heped, more complete than any yet published. I have been allowed access to much unpublished correspondence, and have had the viii PREFACE. privilege of intercourse with personal friends of Mr. Keble, and I wish to express my warmest thanks to those who have helped me in either of these ways. But the memoir is not complete. I have not had access tc all the correspondence. There is much still to be examined and sifted and published, and I can only hope that this volume may serve for a time to revive the memory of its subject, and may then pass away before the completer account of him that ought tc be given to the world. It ought to be given to the world, for there is scarcely a letter or a treatise of his through which there does not shine some glimpse of the beauty of the writer's character, from which the reader does not rise without a sense of being brought nearer to the Presence of God. Walter Lock. Feast of SS. Simon and Jude, 1892. CONTENTS. CHAP. I. PREPARATION FOR THE WORK OF LIFE 1792 1832 II. THE PROFESSOR OF POETRY III. THE CHRISTIAN YEAR IV. THE STRUGGLE. 1833 — 1841 ... v. the struggle (continued). 1841 — 1845 VI. LYRA INN0CENT1UM VII. RECOVERY. 1846 — 1860 VIII. THE END. 1860 1866 IX. THE PREACHER ... X. THE SPIRITUAL ADVISER . . . XI. CHARACTERISTIC AND INFLUENCE APPENDIX I. APPENDIX II. 1 29 5074 103129 141172189 204223239 242 JOHN KEBLE. CHAPTEE I. PREPARATION FOR THE WORK OF LIFE, 1792 — 1832. "Voice of the meekest man, Now while the Church for combat arms, Calmly do thou confirm her awful ban. Thy words to her be conquering, soothing charms. Voice of tbe fearless saint ! King lite a trump where gentle hearts Beat high for truth, but doubting lower and faint. Tell them tbe hour is come, and tbey must take their parts." J. K., Miscellaneous Poems, p. 36, (of R. Hooker.) John Keble sprang from a family which had origin ally come from Suffolk, but had since the sixteenth century been settled in Gloucestershire. One of his ancestors, Sir Henry Keble, grocer, had been Lord Mayor of London in 1511, and had been noted for his liberality towards the rebuilding of Aldermanbury Church and towards other charities ; a descendant of his, Richard Keble, purchased the manor of East Leech Turville, in Gloucestershire, which remained in his B 2 JOHN KEBLE. family till the beginning of the eighteenth century. At the end of that century the representative of this family was the father of the subject of this memoir, himself also the Rev. John Keble, who, after being a Scholar and Fellow of Corpus Christi College, Oxford, had married a lady of Scotch descent, Sarah Maule, the daughter of the incumbent of Ringwood in Hampshire, and had settled at Fairford in Gloucestershire, as Vicar of the neighbouring parish of Coin St. Aldwyn's. Here, on St. Mark's Day, 1792, John Keble was born, being- thus eight years older than Dr. Pusey (1800), nine than Cardinal Newman (1801), ten than Isaac Williams (1802), eleven than Hurrell Froude (1803). He was privately baptized the next day, and publicly received into the Church in July. He was educated entirely by his father at home, and even if he owed to that, as he himself thought in later years, a certain desultoriness in study and a want of practical knowledge of the world, yet it was probably far the best course for one of his shy, sensitive temperament : he grew up with a fresh genuine interest in classics and mathematics, in English literature and history; with an unquestioning deference to his parent's wishes, with a warmth of affectionate- ness to brother and sister, in which he never failed, which affected his movements at each change in his life, and which stood him in good stead again and again, especially in the great strain of Newman's secession. In his life, as in that of St. Andrew, " Christ laid the foundations of the Church en brotherly love." 1 The family consisted of five members, the eldest, Elizabeth (1790—1860), "his wife," as he used playfully to call her, who was nearly all her life an invalid, and, 1 Sermons, Occasional and\Academical, p.''275. PREPARATION FOR THE WORK OF LIFE. 3 as such, shy and nervous at first with strangers, yet gradually winning upon them by her sweetness and religious spirit, and who for many years shared his home at Hursley and his work and hopes for the Church. "I wish you could see my father and eldest sister," he wrote once to Coleridge ; " to me they are uniques." Then came John, born in 1792; then Thomas, in 1793, who followed him as a scholar to Corpus Christi College, then became Fellow and Tutor there, then acted as curate to his father, finally settling as vicar at Bisley in Gloucestershire. With him nearly every scheme of action was discussed : he was a contributor to the Tracts for the Times, helped John with the edition of Hooker, the Library of the Fathers, and the Plain Sermons ; and was ever felt to be a steadying influence upon his life. " I was myself inclined to eclecticism at one time (he wrote in 1838), and had it not been for my father and brother, where I should have been now, who can say ? " Then came Sarah (1796 — 1814), whose death formed the first gap in the circje ; and lastly, Mary Anne (1799—1826), his " sweetheart," the bright, fresh, merry-hearted one, who wanted every one to live in sun shine, to whom he was accustomed to talk more freely than to any one else in the world, and who was probably the strongest influence upon his life until the time of her early unexpected death. Both she and Elizabeth were highly cultured and religious, and we find them reading Italian and French with their brother, and also with great enjoyment Butler's Analogy, Hooker's Eccle siastical Polity, and Strype's Lives of the Archbishops. The traditions of the family were Cavalier and Non- juring ; in later years Dr. Pusey recalled to Keble the way in which the latter's words about the Stuarts bad 4 JOHN KEBLE. been one of the first things that broke through his Libe'ralist tendencies. " I was thoughtlessly, or rather I must say confidently, taking it for granted that the Stuarts were rightly dethroned, when I heard for the first time a hint to the contrary from you. Your seriousness was an unintended reproof to my petulant expression about it ; so it stuck by me, though it was some time before it took root and burst through all the clods placed upon it." Later still, in answer to some depreciatory opinion of Dr. Pusey's about the Nonjurors, Keble replied, " I cannot think that the Nonjurors' position was so very bad or useless an one. I seem to trace our present life in good measure to it." From such a home he came up to Oxford, " a fresh, glad, bright, joyous boy."1 After an unsuccessful attempt , at Magdalen College, he was elected in December 1806 to an open scholarship at Corpus Christi College, and entered into residence at the beginning of 1807, while still under fifteen years cf age. His college life was not eventful ; he threw himself heartily into lectures, and forty years later dedicates his volume of Sermons to his tutor, the Rev. W. N. Darnell, " in ever grateful memory of invaluable helps and warnings received : from him in early youth;" he also shared fully the social life of his college, and his letters contain several references to the Common Room parties held at the end of each term, and kept with difficulty within due limits of sobriety. " Our Common Room party was yesterday," he writes once to his brother, " when I had the hardest trial I have yet gone through in Oxford in avoiding ' intostication.' However, they were on this occasion much more sober than they have been on 1 Dr. Pusey, in the Keble College Proceedings, 1868, p. 43. j PREPARATION FOR THE WORK OF LIFE. 5 former." He tvrote frequently, but never successfully, for the prize for English Poetry ; and several of his poems composed in this ' Scene of my Earliest Harp- ings,' will be found in the Miscellaneous Poems. He calls it Home of my Micse and of my Friends, and it is as home of his friends that it had most influence on his after-life. The college was a small college, lending itself to clcse intimacies, and it contained at this time a number of striking members. There was J. T. Coleridge, elected in 1809, fresh from Eton, full of enthusiasm for the poetry of his uncle and of Words- wprth — Cpleridge, who remained to the end of his life the firm friend and wise adviser whom Keble always consulted in any ecclesiastical questions which were connected with the law of the State, and who lived te be his affectionate biographer. There was Noel Ellison, "the genial, joypus, graceful Elliscn," also elected in 1809, who afterwards became Tutor of Balliol, and Rector of Huntspill ; John Tucker, " the single-hearted and devout," who became a missionary in India ; G. J. Cornish, elected in 1810, a man of keen sensibility, of poetic taste, but quiet retiring character, who, after becoming Fellow and Tutor of his college, withdrew to parochial life, and from 1828 — 1849 was Vicar of Kenwyn, above Truro. He is author of the poem on the Redbreast, quoted in the Christian Year, and the strength of Keble's affection for him is measured by the words he wrote to a friend on his death, " My dear Dyson, do ask for me that I may meet him again." Then there was C. Dyson, to whom these words were written, rather senior to the other friends, perhaps the most intimate of all, the fastidious critic, the wise, cheering, cultured friend, whose influence was mainly 6 JOHN KEBLE. effectual in procuring the publication of the Christian Year, and whom Keble seldom omitted to consult at important moments of his life. Last of all, not elected till 1811, but at once admitted into this circle, was Thomas Arnold, the eager, enthusiastic, religious Liberal, who differed from Keble in almost every point, and yet wound himself very closely round his heart. " The more I see of Arnold, the more I love him," he wrote in 1816; and in 1819, "I hardly know any one now that Dyson is gone (from Oxford), who would be so great a loss to me." To him Arnold turned when in great religious perplexity, and found comfort and peace in his advice. The line that Arnold took in later years seemed to him so " wilful and presumptuous in his way of dealing with holy things," that he felt that he could not regard him as a fellow-labourer in the same cause. This was his feeling in 1832, but the break with him had been a severe strain upon himself, and he writes in 1840, ''I have had an Easter letter from Arnold, so kind and mitigated in tone that I cannot but be com forted by it, and in time I trust he may come nearer to Church views. I feel somehow that we are nearer to each other than we have been." To these friends in college should be added one out-college friend, John Miller of Worcester College. He was some years senior, having taken his degree in 1808, and Keble always regarded him with very great reverence for his seriousness, and loved him for his genial merriment. Miller's Bampton Lectures for 1817, upon "the Divine authority of Holy Scripture from its adaptation to the Real State of Human Nature," impressed his mind very much by its cautious tone, its tender and scrupulous respect for the simple PREPARATION FOR THE WORK OF LIFE. 7 faith of the poor, and its deep reverence in the treat ment of the Bible. In 1829 he called him "the most original divine of our days," and one sentence from the Bampton Lectures seems to have suggested the poem for St. Bartholomew's Day in the Christian Year; another sentence in one of his sermons suggested the title of the volume. It has been worth while to dwell upon this group of friends, for with the one exception of Arnold, they were friendships for life kept up by visits and correspondence, and never without their influence upon him. But their main influence was that of the Oxford days. They did that which was all-important for the shy, sensitive, home-bred boy; they gave him confidence in himself by the unrestrained way in which they admitted him to their confidence. In many a college society such a temperament would have withered and shrunk into itself; in this kindly warmth it grew and blossomed. All the natural gaiety of heart, all the frolicsome humour which characterizes his home letters, reappears in his letters to these friends. Just as his brother and sisters have their comic nicknames, so it is with these friends. The wise Miller is " Hooker" ; Arnold is "the sheep " ; Cornish " the monkey " ; Dyson is " Jeremiah," or " The Venerable Bede," or " Simorg " ; his own brother is " Thomas Aquinas " ; J. Tucker is the " Queen of Babylon," or " Bab," or " Semiramis," and is spoken of always as " she." Thus when he left Corpus Christi ho carried away a stronger self-confidence ; and he carried away also a wider knowledge of English literature, and a love and reverence for the memory of one of the noblest names of which the college could boast — Richard Hooker. 8 JOHN KEBLE. In the summer of 1810, when he was only a little over eighteen, he obtained the very rare distinction of a double first-class in Classics and Mathematics. As it was then common for Bachelors to reside, he continued ; in Corpus Christi until, on April 21, 1811, just before his nineteenth birthday, he was elected to an open Fellowship at Oriel College ; Whateley, afterwards Archbishop of Dublin, being elected at the same time. In the following year he gained both the Chancellor's Essays, the English Essay on Translation from Dead Languages; the Latin on a comparison between Xeno- phon and Julius Caesar as Military Historians. It was the most brilliant academical career of his time. It " invested him with a bright halo and something of awe in the eyes of an undergraduate." * Twelve years later .the young Newman writes, "I shall only mention Keble. At eighteen he took two first classes. Soon after he gained the two Essays in one year and a Fellowship at Oriel. He is the first man in Oxford" 2 The two leading spirits in the Common Room at this time were Copleston and Davison ; of these the latter became a firm and life-long friend of Keble. It was at his suggestion that the last poems of the Christian Year were written, and after his death Keble helped to edit his Remains. But he was never quite at home in the Oriel Common Room in the sense in which he had been at Corpus Christi. The tone was one of vigorous, rough-and-ready discussion of all things under heaven and earth, wanting in tenderness and reverence ; he was shy of the criticism of " the Oriel wags"; among them, he seemed to Newman, "more 1 I. Williams, Autobiography, p. 17. 2 Letters, i., p. 75. PREPARATION FOR THE WORK OF LIFE. 9 like an undergraduate than the first man in Oxford, so perfectly unaffected and unassuming in his manner ; " 1 and the way in which Pusey and Newman in 1828 failed to understand Keble's character is a sufficient proof how little he had been really quite himself there. At first he had no college work, and was busy with his own reading and with private pupils, taking reading parties in the vacation and paying visits to his friends ; and many of the early poems published afterwards in the Miscellaneous Poems bear witness to the brightness and hopes of this time. In 1813 he refused the offer of a Sub-Librarianship at the Bodleian Library. He was Public Examiner in the Final Schools from 1814 — 1816; Master of the Schools in 1816; and Public Examiner again 1821 — 1823. One of these occasions is specially interesting; as he listened to one of his fellow-examiners assigning the class to one of the candidates, his mind wandered off to think of the future that might be in store for the Examiner himself, and the result was the poem in the Christian Year for St. John's Day — " • Lord, and what shall this man do ? ' Ask'st tbou Christian for thy friend ? If Ms love for Christ be true, Christ hatb told thee of his end. This is be wbom God approves, This is be wbom Jesus loves." His own reading during these years was very varied ; we find him reading Ariosto, Chateaubriand, Madame de Stael, Blackstone's Commentaries, Ockley's History of the Saracens, Spenser, Wordsworth, Southey, Byron; but his studies were drawing more and more 1 Letters, i., p. 72. 10 JOHN KEBLE. towards , Theology. He learnt Hebrew, and wrote in 1813, "The study of Divinity grows upon me. There are so many questions little and great, grammatical, historical, and metaphysical, to be answered before one can say that one thoroughly understands a verse of the Bible, that I almost despair of reading it through on this side of threescore." Butler's Analogy, more than any other book, except perhaps Aristotle, formed the staple of his thoughts. Butler's humility of tone, his sense of the vastness and mystery of the Divine system, his willingness to confess that he knew but a fringe of a great subject, his determination not to ignore the facts of what God has done in favour of an a, priori theory of what He ought to do ; his strong hold upon the analogy between nature and religion, lending itself to Keble's poetic love of treating all material phenomena: % as types of spiritual facts ; his theory that the intellect cannot carry us farther than a probable result in religion, and that only faith and love ,can convert probability ,; into certainty — these fundamental positions reappear again and again in Keble's writings ; and Newman has told us how they assumed a new power and meaning under the influence of Keble's "creative mind"; they rooted the Sacramental system in the eternal methods of God's working, and won Newman himself from his individualism. Almost immediately after reaching his twenty-third birthday he was ordained Deacon by the Bishop of Oxford on Trinity Sunday, 1815, and Priest on Trinity Sunday, 1816 : his Fellowship served as a title, although he also assisted his father at Coin, riding over from Oxford for the purpose, and in thesummerof 1815 he took temporary charge of the two neighbouring villages of East Leech , PREPARATION FOR THE WORK OF LIFE. 11 and Burthorpe. It seemed to him that " the salvation of one soul was worth more than the framing of the Magna Charta of a thousand worlds," and he approached the work with awe and trembling, and yet with un abated confidence in Christ's power to use his service. The aim that he set before him helps to explain the deep language of self-reproach and remorse which is so strongly marked in the Christian Year and in his correspondence. Before the ordination he wrote to Coleridge — " Pray for me too : pray earnestly, my dear, my best friend, that He would give me His grace, that I may not be altogether unworthy of the sacred office on which I am, rashly I fear, even now entering ; but that some souls hereafter may have cause to bless me. Pray that I may be free from vanity, from envy, from discontent, from impure imaginations ; that I may not grow weary, nor wander in heart from God's service : that I may not be judging others uncharitably, nor vainly dreaming how they will judge me, at the very moment that I seem most religiously and most charitably employed . Without any foolish affectation of modesty, I can truly say that the nearer the time approaches, the more strongly I feel my own unfitness and unworthiness for the ministry : yet as I hope it is not such but that it may be removed in time by earnest and constant use of the means of grace, I do not think it needful to defer my Ordination, but I want all the help I can get in the awful and difficult preparation : do not therefore forget me in your prayers." In the preceding year he had lost his sister Sarah, and perhaps this, combined with the tension of the Ordination, produced a tone of melancholy, which 12 JOHN KEBLE. eppressed him at this time and seemed te him wilful., and sinful. Much of the Christian Year cannot be understood without the remembrance of this mood, and therefore it will be well to add another extract from a letter to Coleridge — " Our domestic distresses have furnished me with too good an excuse for indulging a certain humour calling itself melancholy, but I am afraid more truly entitled proud and fantastic, which I find very often at hand, forbidding me to enjoy the good things and pursue the generous studies which a kind Providence throws so richly in my way. ... I have long known this to be very wrong, but I never felt the mischief of it so much as in the midst of your happy family. I felt as if I was saddening everybody, and thousands and thousands of resolutions did I make that I would shake off this selfish remembrance of past and distant calamities, that I would enjoy myself wherever I went. I trust I shall be able, though late, to accomplish these good reso lutions, and it will be a long and steady course of self-discipline alone, grounded upon high motives, and assisted by the prayers, advice, and example of my relations and friends, which will enable me by God's blessing to do so." His life became thus for a couple of years mainly j pastoral ; his profession became " my dear delightful ;,'" profession" : but at the end of 1S17 he was recalled to a more academical life, being appointed Tutor at Oriel. In January, 1818, he writes to Coleridge that he is going back " to lay down the laws of y\ and 5rj to a set of wriggling watch-consulting undergraduates." The work was in many ways delightful to him, for tuitipn seemed to him a species of Pastoral Care. His sense of a tutor's o PREPARATION FOR THE WORK OF LIFE. 13 responsibility will best be illustrated by words which he wrote years afterwards : " Considerate Catholics know well that there is practically no separating the high and comprehensive views which that name imports from any of the moral branches of education. Silence them as you may on directly theological questions, how are they to deal with ethics or poetry or history, so as not to guide their disciples by the light which the Church throws on all ? And tliere is a yet deeper consider ation :'they may perhaps think that College Tuition is a branch of the Pastoral Care, at least if they are them selves ordained at God's altar; and then they will have no further alternative — they must either teach Catholicism or not teach at all." x Newman has admitted how he came ultimately to see that Keble's mind was at one with his own in his con ception of tutorial work, so that his description of his ewn tutorial aims might be transferred to Keble ; there was the same willingness to spend any effort on his pupils' work (we find Keble working with them some times as early as six a.m.), the same attempt to culti vate relations with them not only of intimacy, but of friendship and almost of equality ; in Hurrell Froude's words, " Where Keble was, donnishness and humbug would be no more in college, nor the pride of talent nor ignoble secular ambition."2 Keble retained this office for six years and formed many lasting intimacies, one with Sir W. Heathcote leading ultimately to his appointment as Vicar of Hursley. One who came into residence just after he 1 The Case of Catholic Subscription to the XXXIX. Articles, 1841, p. 12. 2 J. H. Newman, Letters, i., pp. 152 — 154. 14 JOHN KEELE. left, and who only saw him when he applied for matricu lation, Sir C. Anderson, bears striking testimony, in a letter written in 1889, to the quiet, ppwerful effect which he had upon young men. " I was entered by Keble when I went up to matriculate, a raw youth of nineteen. Keble was then Tutor and Resident, and he examined me and took me to the Vice-Chancellor to swear to the Articles, and during the two hours I was with Keble his manner and kindness and a certain influence, which I hardly can describe, came over me, so that when I went to reside, and he had then left Oxford, I found the Tutors at Oriel so wholly different that I greatly regretted Keble's absence. I am more than ever convinced that, had he been elected Provost, things would have been very different at the University." The impression which he made upon outsiders is excellently illustrated by the following contemporaneous account, written by a sister of his friend, George Cornish, after a visit of Keble's to Sidmouth — " Sept. 8, 1819. — Keble went away early. We are all very sorry to lose him, as he is a person that is not to be met with every day. I have heard a great deal of him from George before I saw him, so that it was like meeting an old friend. His manners are singularly simple, shy, and unpolished, though without the least rudeness or roughness, as he is the mildest and quietest' person I almost ever saw. He speaks very little, but always seems interested in what is going on, and often says the cleverest and most witty things as if he was not the least aware of it. In bis own family I should think he must be more missed when absent than any one else could possibly be ; he seems formed for a domestic circle and all the feelings attendant on home. PREPARATION FOR THE WORK OF LIFE. 15 Without making any fuss about it, he seems so inter ested in every one, and has such a continual quiet cheerfulness about him, that I cannot imagine how his father and mother, brother and sisters, can do without him. But it is his religious character that has struck me more than anything else, as it is indeed that from which everything else proceeds. I never saw any one who came up so completely to my ideas of a religious man as Keble, and yet I never saw any one who made so little display of it (I use this word for want of a better at present) ; he seems to me a union of Hooker and George Herbert — the humility of one with the feeling and love of the other. In short, altogether he is a man whom the more you see of and know, the less you must think of ypurself." 1 During these years he was much interested by making the acquaintance of Wordsworth (1815), and of Southey and Heber (1819). His own poetic powers were reaching their maturity, and some of the freshest and most melodious poems of the Cliristian Year date from this time. In 1822 — 1823 he was Select Preacher before the University, and in 1823 he preached the Assize sermon ; 2 but the variety of the work and the cares of discipline were trying to him ; he longed for something more permanent and more pastoral. " I begin to be clear that I am out of my element here," he wrote in a moment of despondency as early as 1819 ; in 1821, " I have made up my mind to leave Oxford as soon as this examination affair is over ; " in 1822, " I get fonder and fonder of the country and of poetry and of such things every year of my life." Finally, in 1823, he 1 Monthly Packet, 1887, p. 189. " Diary of an Octogenarian." 2 Academical Sermons, i. — iv. 16 JOHN KEBLE. accepted a college living at Coleby in Lincolnshire ; but withdrew his acceptance at the last moment. For, on May 11, his mother died, and he at once decided to live in his father's neighbourhood that he might be able to help him. His mother's death inspired the poem on the Annunciation, which appears, though in an altered form, in the Christian Year. The first draft (written 'j on June 1, 1823) will be found in the Miscellaneomi Poems. It is in the main the same as that in the Christian Year, but when that was published his sorrow was still fresh, and the allusions to his mother and him self seemed too sacred for publication, and the verses about The Virgin Mother were substituted. In his own MS. there is written by the side of the last stanza, '* May 10, 1823. Extract from pocket-book— ' Ebeu, ebeu, vale, vale, carissima, vale, elieu, vale, at veniet felicius sevum, Quando iterum tecum, sim modo dignus, ero.' " : On his leaving Oriel several of his pupils followed him to his new sphere of work. He became curate at Southrop near Fairford, being responsible for this as well as the other two small villages of East Leech and Bur thorpe. The home was at Southrop ; here he continued' for three years, refusing, in 1824, the Archdeaconry of Barbadoes, which was offered him by Bishop Coleridge, and these three years are in some ways the most im portant of his life. They laid the germs of the Trac- tarian movement. The pupils who were with him, and from whom he refused to receive any payment, were men of brilliancy and promise, the first anu chief being Robert Wilberforce, afterwards Fellow and Tutor of 1 These lines are to be found in Bishop Lowtb's epitaph on his daughter's tomb at Cuddesdon. PREPARATION FOR THE WORK OF LIFE. 17 Oriel College; Isaac Williams, afterwards Fellow of Trinity, and curate to Newman ; and Hurrell Froude, also Fellow and Tutor of Oriel, and the link between Keble and Newman. In their society Keble's nature expanded thoroughly ; their intercourse was free, affec tionate, joyous, playful : " there is master the greatest boy of them all," was the gardener's comment upon it. But under all this gaiety of heart a deep seriousness was known to lie, and it would break out from time to time in shy, simple ways, as when once just before Froude was leaving, Keble took him aside and said, "Froude, you thought Law's Serious Call was a clever book ; it seemed to me as if you had said that tbe Day of Judgment was a pretty sight." 1 The moral and spiritual influ ence which he wielded over them was enormous. Robert Wilberforce, when in later years he joined the Church of Rome, is reported to have said that the one power which had held him to the Church of Eng land was John Keble's character and wisdom; Isaac Williams, the Harrow cricketer and scholar of Trinity, looked back to the day when Keble invited him to Southrop as the era of his conversion, when he was first roused to take a serious view of life. " It was this short walk of a few yards and a few words spoken that were the turning-point of my life. If a merciful God had miraculously interposed to arrest my course, I could not have had a stronger assurance of His Presence than I have always had in looking back to that day." 2 Speaking of Keble's classical tuition, he says that he can remember in no other way to have derived so much moral benefit and actual religious teaching as when in 1 I. Williams, Autobiography, p. 28. 2 Ibid. p. 16. 18 JOHN KEBLE. a state of tuition himself from this indirect mode of instruction in another, to whom he owes everything that renders life valuable.1 Froude, the " bright and beauti ful Froude," the most original genius of the whole ; Froude, so aggressive, so restless in inquiry, so audacious, so relentless in pressing premises to their ultimate con clusions, so full of mischief, so unmeasured in speech, so keen an enemy to all that was unreal or pretentious, and yet withal so affectionate and generous and winning and imaginative, a " man fitted above all others to kindle enthusiasm," 2 was touched and awed by the unworldly simplicity of his tutor, and put himself unreservedly under his intellectual and spiritual guidance. It was like a high-bred horse responding at once to a master's touch. The effect upon these pupils will be best illus trated by Dean Church's account of it in his description of Isaac Williams : " He had before him in John Keble a spectacle which was absolutely new to him. Ambi- i tious as a rising and successful scholar at college, he saw a man looked up to and wondered at by every one, absolutely without pride and without ambition. He saw the most distinguished academic of his day, to whom every prospect was open, retiring from Oxford in the height of his fame to busy himself with a few hundreds of Gloucestershire peasants in a miserable curacy. He saw this man caring for and respecting the ignorant and poor as much as others respected the great and learned. He saw this man, who had made what the world would call so great a sacrifice — apparently; unconscious that he bad made any sacrifice at all — gay/ 1 The Clvristian Scholar, Preface, p. liv. Cf. Thoughts in Past Years : " Others admire in tbee a poet's fire " (written about Keble). 2 J. H. N., Correspondence, ii., p. 241. PREPARATION FOR THE WORK OF LIFE. 19 unceremonious, bright, full of play as a boy, ready with his pupils for any exercise, mental or muscular — for a hard ride, or a crabbed bit of ^Eschylus, or a logic fence with disputatious and paradoxical undergraduates, giving and taking on even ground. These pupils saw one, the breadth of whose religion none could doubt, ' always endeavouring to do them good, as it were, unknown to themselves and in secret, and ever avoiding that his kindness should be felt and acknowledged ' ; showing in the whole course of daily life the purity of Christian love, and taking the utmpst pains to make no prefession or show of it." 1 But the influence was not wholly from him upon them; they too, and especially Froude, reacted upon him. His ecclesiastical principles became more clear cut; on the one hand, there had been growing upon him an intense distrust of the Evangelicalism of the day, which seemed te depend entirely upon feeling, to neglect the sense of duty and the cultivation of char acter; it seemed to him so often unreal, and he was fond of quoting William Law's warning to Wesley, " Remember that a man may deceive himself as easily by the phrase 'justification by faith,' as by any other combination of syllables." On the other hand, he loathed even more strongly the cold Deism of the last century with its modern Erastianism, which would reduce the Church to a mere creation of the State, and would ultimately deny the supernatural. The " Anglo- Hanoverian " Church tone of the eighteenth century repelled him with its utilitarian cui bono principles, its presumptions in favour of liberty and against self- denying faitb, its preference for external evidences of 1 The Oxford Movement, p. 59. 20 JOHN KEBLE. religion, its excessive and easy-going toleration, it want of a charitable austerity.1 It neglected the feel ings as Evangelicalism neglected the character, and hi mind craved for a religion which should affect the whol man, and keep both feelings and intellect under thi control of the will. To enforce this he fell back upoi the conception of the Church which he had inherited as of a body independent of the State, founded by tin Lord Himself, perpetuated by direct succession fron the Apostles, one in continuous history and in doctrini with the Primitive Church, filled with a supematura and sacramental life, witnessing to a high moral standarc before the world. Such a conception fired him wit! indignation at State encroachments, at neglect o: discipline and doctrine, at the prevailing worldlinesi of tone ; it made him doubt the wisdom of much thai the Reformers had done. In 1824 he wrote to Coleridge that he doubted Davison's application of the apostasy tc the Church of Rome, and adds, " My impression for e long time has been that we have as much to do with il as they." Such a noble conception of the Church naturallj laid hold of the imaginations of his pupils, and througl them passed as a power into Oxford. To make thai conception a reality he devoted his whole life withs Quixotic chivalry which nothing could daunt : for thai he sent forth his pupils as a band of ' missionaries Not that any immediate result was yet produced : th( train was laid, but the circumstances were not yei favourable for firing it, nor was the genius yet wit! them who was to apply the light. 1 Cf. his Review of " The Unpublished Papers of Bishop War burton." Occasional Papers and Reviews, p. 108. PREPARATION FOR THE WORK OF LIFE. 21 This intercourse with pupils ceased in the year 1825, when Keble became eurate in sole charge of Hursley, near Winchester, under Archdeacon Heathcote. The Archdeacon, who lived in Winchester, was responsible for the charge both of Otterbourne and of Hursley, and was obliged to depute the latter entirely to his curate ; and as this was a widely-scattered parish of more than a thousand inhabitants, the new curate had no time to devote to tuition. He passed a year of great happiness in this new work, receiving visits from his father and sisters and many bf his college friends, including Arnold. But the brightness was clouded and stopped by the most unexpected and perhaps the deepest sorrow of his life. , In September, 1826, his favourite sister, Mary Anne, was taken suddenly ill at Fairford, and died within a few days. In answer to a letter of sympathy from Froude he wrote — " I knew you would be very sorry when you heard of what has come upon us, and I feel that I can write freely to you about it ; but I cannot half describe to you the depth and intensity, at least as it seemed to me, of my thoughts and feelings during Mary Anne's illness and for some time since. Certainly no loss could be so great, humanly speaking, to Elizabeth and my father, but they are both such sort of people that I have long been used to consider everything that happens to them as a certain good; and there was nothing bitter in my grief as far as they were con cerned, much less in thinking of Mary Anne herself; but the real bitterness was when I thought of many things in which I have been far less kind to her than I ought to have been. Somehow or other I have for years been accustomed to talk to her far more freely 22 JOHN KEBLE. than to anybody else in the world, though of course there were two or three whom I loved quite as well. But it has so happened that whenever I was moody or fretful she has had to bear with me more than any one, and if I chose I could sit down and torment myself by the hour with the thought of it. This is the only feeling of real bitterness that I have on the subject, but I know it is wrong to indulge it, and I trust soon to get over it entirely ; indeed, I seem to have done so already, only I feel one cannot in any way depend upon one's self. I am certain no person who believes in .the Atonement ought to indulge in bitter remorse, and therefore, by God's blessing, I don't mean to be un comfortable if I can help it, even in the thought of my past faults. I have been so too much already, and it , only seems to make one lazy and weaken one's own hands and one's friends. If you please, therefore, don't let us encourage one another in melancholy any more; but let us always resolutely look to the bright side of " things, and among other helps to be quiet, let us always ; talk as freely to one another as we do now, for nothing . relieves one so much as making a clean breast." 1 To this occasion we owe the short Fragment on Ms sister Mary Anne's death,2 and the simple unrhymed poem on The Burial of the Bead, which was intended for the Christian Year. iHe shrank, however, from publishing it so soon, but later it appeared in the Lyra Apostolica, No. 50.3 This loss changed Keble's plans once more; his father and sister needed some companion, and he returned to Fairford and acted as curate there until his father's death in 1835, refusing 1 Letters of Spiritual Counsel, p. i. 2 Miscellaneous Poems, p. 236. 3 Ibid. p. 15. PREPARATION FOR THE WORK OF LIFE. 23 the living of Hursley when offered bim by Sir W. Heathcote in 1829, and that of Paignton, which was offered to him, " as to the most eminently good man in the Church," by the Bishop of Exeter in 1831. He still remained a Fellow of Oriel, but his friends there were not content that he should only appear at the rare intervals of college meetings, and on more than one occasion they attempted to revive his connection with Oxford. At the end of 1827 the Provostship of Oriel became vacant by the appointment of Dr. Cople- ston to be Bishop of Llandaff and Dean of St. Paul's. There was no doubt that the choice would fall either on Keble or on Hawkins. On December 8th, Hawkins wrote to Keble what the latter describes as a " kind little letter," apparently asking whether he would be a candidate ;"' to which he replied on December 9th, postponing his answer, but adding, " I am in great hopes that by not caring too much for things we shall be enabled to turn what might have been unpleasant into a time of comfortable recollection as long as we live. You and I agreed to remember one another at a trying time for both a little more than a twelvemonth ago ; if you please, we will do tbe same now." Meanwhile, Keble's old pupils were strongly in his favour and urged him to stand. He was quite willing to de so, feeling that it was not so very much more diffi cult a trust than any other pastoral employment, and conscious that he had some qualifications for it ; but he had left Oxford, and was not intimately known by many of the Fellows. Hawkins was a resident tutor in full work; he too had gained a double first-class, having taken his degree a year after Keble, and he was a man of shrewd practical -wisdom and intellectual 24 JOHN KEBLE. keenness, though devoid of any deep power of sympathy. By a strange irony the balance was decided against Keble by Newman and Pusey. Neither of them knew Keble at all intimately, Newman having been elected in 1822, Pusey in 1823, just as Keble was leaving Oxford. Pusey wrote to him en December 14th, saying that he had decided to vote for Hawkins, " yet should the choice of the majority finally fall upon you, I should anticipate from your promotion high and extensive benefits to the college. It is difficult on the subject not to say too much or too little ; I will therefore only add that it is not upon any comparison of the indi viduals, but in relation to a practical office that I have formed my decision." Newman wrote on December 19th, a letter marked by delicate consideration, and yet, as experience proved, showing an extraordinary want of insight into the relative sympathy of Keble and Hawkins with his own concepiwons of Cpllege and University reform. On December fc7th, Keble wrote to Froude withdrawing his candidature, and putting it with thoughtful unselfishness on selfish reasons; he doubted whether he would be comfortable there ; he had calls elsewhere ;,' he was afraid of the Oxford epidemic of intellectualism. On December 28th, he wrote to the same effect to Hawkins, and the contest was ended. Whether the result would have been less disastrous to the College and the University if Keble had been elected is an idle speculation. Newman never regretted his vote, for it seemed to him afterwards that, had Keble been elected, he himself would have still retained his tutorship, and so would have had no leisure for the Tractarian movement. Pusey regretted it deeply: PREPARATION FOR THE WORK OF LIFE. 25 "Unhappily, some of us who loved him did not know the power of his deep sympathy with the young heart, and thought another more practical. He could not bear division, and so withdrew. The whole of the later history of the Church might have been changed had we been wiser ; but God, through our ignorance, withdrew him, and it must have been well with him, since God so over ruled it. To us it became the sorrow of our lives." 1 Yet the whole correspondence gives such an impression of considerateness, of thoughtfulness, of sincerity, of perfect freedom from self-seeking, from jealousy, from bitterness on all sides, that it is refreshing to read. And Keble, who had written years before on the occasion of Hawkins' election to a Fellowship, " Everything was conducted on so liberal a plan that it does my heart good to belong to such a society as Oriel," felt this still, and went back to his pastoral work with no trace of embittered feeling, but with a deeper devotion to his duties, as though God had more clearly put them as a sacred trust into his hand. It may well be that the way in which he accepted this disappointment may have gained him the power which he wielded over Newman and Pusey in later years; it may well be that the life at a distance from Oxford, amid the realities of pastoral work, gave him coolness and self-control and wisdom which would scarcely have been generated in the heart of the conflict; and thus his very rejection may have gone to make him " an unseen silent influence, moving hearts at will." 2 But though absent his voice was still heard in any- 1 Sermon at Keble College, St. Mark's Day, 1876, p. 27. 2 J. H. N., Essays, ii., p. 446. For tbe best account of the election see tbe Guardian for January 30, 1889. 26 JOHN KEBLE. thing which stirred the University ; in 1829 Mr. Peel, having suddenly changed his mind and passed the Roman Catholic Emancipation Act, offered himself for re-election at Oxford, but many Churchmen there felt that they could not change their opinions thus readily ; the independence of the Church and of Oxford seemed to them at stake, and Mr. Peel was rejected. Keble (who afterwards dated the conflict between Church and State from this time) threw himself heartily into the opposition, and published with his signature a short set of queries addressed to the electors, ending with one,, very characteristic — " Whether, on occasions like this, we are not bound to look forward and consider not only how our academical interests may be affected at present, but how our conduct will appear in the pages of future history ? " When the election was over he wrote a humble and affectionate letter to Pusey, asking pardon of all Mr. Peel's friends, and especially, through Pusey, of the Bishop of Oxford, " if anything in which I have had a part may have given him a moment's pain, or if I have seemed unworthily suspicious of one for whom he must be deeply interested." For a few years his letters give the impression that he was casting about for some adequate life's work. The Christian Year was now published, and he had no pupils. We find him examining for the Ireland Scholar ship in 1828 ; for the India House in 1830 and 1831 ; he composes the Index to Cardwell's edition of Aristotle's Ethics (1830) l; he is working at his translation of the 1 Cf. the Preface : " Indicem toti operi amico cuidam acceptum referimus, digniorisane qui ipse Aristotelem illustrandum suscipi- eret, nobis vicissim suas partes traditurus," PREPARATION FOR THE WORK OF LIFE. 27 Psalter into English verse; he is interested in the conditions of the poor and studying Malthus, and anxious to promote emigration on a large scale in order to relieve the distress. At one time, when there were agrarian riots in the neighbourhood, he rode out fear lessly and good-naturedly with the mob, arguing with them and trying to keep them from mischief. In 1831 he published anonymously a pamphlet entitled A Hint from Bristol, in which he took advantage of the Bristol riots to plead against Reform, and to exhort honest men to have true courage to set themselves calmly and reso lutely against the " evil spirit which is abroad teaching this nation all kinds of irreverence." In this year, however, two different events supplied him with the work which he desired ; at the beginning of the year he undertook for the Clarendon Press a complete edition of the works of his favourite, Richard Hooker ; and in the winter he was elected Professor of Poetry. His friends had been anxious that he should be a candidate for the chair in 1821, but he then refused to oppose Milman. By this time, however, the Christian Year had established his poetic reputation, and he was elected without any opposition. This office had the advantage that it brought him up to Oxford once a term for his terminal lecture, and also required his presence at Commemoration in alternate years to deliver the Creweian oration in com memoration of the Benefactors of the University. Thus through the most eventful years of the Tract- arian movement, he was in constant touch with its leaders, while the preparation for these two important works made the next few years some of the busiest of his life. One of his own poems will best show the spirit with which he was setting himself to his task. 28 JOHN KEBLE. THE CHURCHMAN TO HIS LAMP. " Come, twinkle in my lonely room, Companion true in hours of gloom ; Come, light me on a little space, The heavenly vision to retrace, By saints and Angels loved so well, — My mother's glories ere she fell. There was a time, my friendly Lamp, When, far and wide, in Jesus' camp,. Oft as the foe dark inroads made, They watch'd and fasted, wept and pray'd ; But now, tbey feast and slumber on, And say, ' Why pine o'er evil done 1 ' Then hours of Prayer, in welcome round, Far-severed hearts together bound ; Seven times a day, on bended knee, They to tbeir Saviour cried ; and we — One hour we find in seven long days, Before our God to sit and gaze ! Then, lowly Lamp, a ray like thine Waked half the world to hymns divine ; Now it is much if here and tbere The dreamer, by the genial glare, Trace tbe dim Past, and slowly climb Tbe steep of Faith's triumphant prime. Yet by His grace whose breathing gives Life to the faintest spark that lives, I trim thee, precious Lamp, once more, Our Father's armoury to explore, And sort and number wistfully A few bright weapons, bathed on high. And may thy guidance ever tend Where gentle thoughts and courage blend ; Tby pure and steady gleaming rest On pages with the Cross imprest ; Till, touch'd with lightning of calm zeal, Our Father's very heart we feel.'' CHAPTER II. the professor of toetrt. " pij/ia fi' tpypdriiiv xpovulirepov jSiOTevei o rt -ye cvv ^ttpiTtav Tv-%q yXwaja fypzvoQ cii\oi j3a&uag." PlNDAE, Nem., IT. 11. In dealing with Keble as a poet, we start with the great advantage of having not only his poems them selves, but also his critical theory of Poetry. Although the fullest statement of this is subsequent "to the publication of the Christian Year, whether in the Latin lectures as Professor of Poetry (1832 — 1841), or in a shorter English form in his review of the Life of Sir Walter Scott (British Critic, 1838) ; yet it had already been sketched in outline in a review of Copleston's Prcdeetioncs Academicm (British Critic, 1814); and in an article on " Sacred Poetry " (Quarterly Revieu; 1825) :x hence it will, both logically and chronologically, be the true order if we discuss the theory first, and the application of it to his own poems afterwards. Keble never professes to give a full definition or 1 These three reviews are reprinted in tbe Occasional Papers and Reviews ; ibe references will be to that volume. 30 JOHN KEBLE. description of Poetry, but only to describe and illustrate one function which it serves ; and this he approaches from the point of view of the poet, and only incidentally from that of the reader. The title De Poeticm Vi Medica points to the kernel of his theory. Poetry is essentially for him a relief to the poet, a relief for overcharged emotion. It is the utterance of feelings which struggle for expression, but which are too deep for perfect expression at all, much more for expression in the language of daily life. Feeling of any kind, he points out, is always seeking some form of expression for itself; the infant can find it only in cries, in gestures, in expression of the features; the grown-up man finds it mainly in the power of speech. " My heart was hot within me, and while I was thus musing the fire kindled, and at last I spake with my tongue" (Ps. xxxix. 3), — this verse is quoted by him as expressing the secret of all poetry. This is true of all feelings, but most true of the deepest feelings, which are stirred either by the sight of external nature or by the facts of human life. Nature appeals to the feelings either by its mystery and vastness, stirring man's wonder, his questioning, his awe ; or by its tranquil beauty and calm, soothing his wearied spirit. Human life appeals to them either by its happiness suggesting a perfection which lies beyond it, through the finite stirring the passion for the infinite ; or by its sadness, suggesting the contrast between what it is, and what it might be, and so stirring tenderness and pity and melancholy. In either case the feelings are stirred by the sense of higher spiritual truths which underlie the visible phenomena. But it follows naturally from this that the deeper the feeling, the less adequately will it be THE PROFESSOR OF POETRY. 31 able to be expressed ; language fails it ; the prose language of daily life is felt at once to be inadequate ; and further, the feeling itself shrinks from publicity, it is too sacred to be cast before every one ; true love and true grief alike shun the light of day and the sight of men. Hence there is a necessary reserve and modesty about the expression of it; metrical language serves both to conceal as well as to reveal the truth ; again, the poet hides his passion under allegory and simile, or description of some event in the heroic past which is sufficiently akin to the present to relieve his feeling while it does not betray his secret. Hence expression will be more poetical in proportion as it gives the sense of struggling with an ideal truth. Yet another distinction must be noticed. The facts of life affect people differently according to their temperament. With one class the feelings are passion ate, tumultuous, headstrong, bursting out into lyric utterance on the spot and then passing away. With another, they are quiet, strong, permanent; they feed themselves on their object ; they persist throughout life ; they work themselves out in longer and more sustained efforts of epic or dramatic poems. Of these two classes Keble unhesitatingly gives the preference to the second. " In quietness and calm will always be found the true praise of poetry, whether you seek for sweetness or for majesty."1 The permanence of the feeling is a test of its reality; the self-control is the proof that the poet feels himself overmastered by a Higher Power. From this distinction springs his classification of poets. Primary poets are those who sing because they must, 1 Prod. Acad., p. 608. 32 JOHN KEBLE. who have some one strong,' consistent, permanent feeling, which reappears again and again ; secondary poets are either those who are stirred genuinely by a passing emotion, or those who are little more than clever literary imitators, writing for pleasure or for interest. The form of the poetry is never taken as the dividing line, though it is used at times as a clue to guide the reader to the truest and most genuine feeling in the poet, on the ground that truth of feeling feels after truth of form. The more trustworthy tests are modesty, reserve, the absence of paradox and display, and above all, consistency ; that poet is the highest poet who, ". . . . when brought Among the tasks of real life, bath wrought Upon the plan that pleased bis childish thought." Taking these tests as his standard, Keble in his lectures examines all the chief Greek and Latin poets, not without a touch of humour here and there, as though he were a Public Examiner once more, as where he stops to wonder whether Sophocles' love of Attic scenery may not earn him a first-class, but ultimately decides to place him in the second ; there are also many interesting illustrations from modern poets and digres- , sions on points where poetry touches on the borderland of religion. As the lectures have never been translated, we venture to give an outline of his argument, with a fuller account of one or two details which he has touched with a loving fullness himself. Homer comes first, and is classed at once as a primary poet. His overmastering feeling is a sad regret for the heroic age, with its common national feeling, its reverence for its leaders, its faith in the interposition of THE PROFESSOR OF POETRY. 33 Gods. The Iliad is the glorification of heroic warfare ; it represents the feelings of the veteran soldier delight ing in his past campaigns. Hence it is not merely " the wrath of Achilles : " it is an Iliad, a story of a successful warfare, exhibiting every kind of fighting, singing the praises of every warrior, whether Greek or Trojan ; dwelling on the incidents of camp life, of the feasts, the games, the armour, the horses, the hunting, the peasant life around, the scenes of Nature, and the wealth of Troy. We see Agamemnon, the proud aristo crat, caring for his country much but for his dignity more ; Diomed the ambitious ; Ajax the rough, brusque, simple, obedient soldier; Hector the lovable, brave, domestic, human hero ; but above them all, the type of an almost superhuman consecration, Achilles, the eager, noble warrior, who knows that death awaits him and yet has gone forth to the war, self-consecrate, preferring a glorious death to inglorious inactivity ; full of affec tionate remembrance for his parents, devoted to his friend, honouring old age, recognizing excellence in friend or foe, and, for all these reasons, dear to heaven. The Odyssey is the work of the same writer, though in his old age. It is the work of the veteran soldier with his warrior instincts still alive in him, recording the love of exploration which marked the heroic era. As Alexander the Great combined in his own person the warrior and the explorer, so Homer in his poems. The type is now Ulysses, the explorer, wise, shrewd, full of expedients, self-trustful ; longing for home with a strength of feeling which is proof against all seduc tions and all perils ; but he is essentially a king ; the Odyssey is not merely the return of a traveller, it is the triumphal victory of a king, who comes to enjoy his own 34 JOHN KEBLE. again and to right his country. The influence of the Gods is over all : they protect Ulysses and punish the suitors ; their presence is seen only by their favourites ; yet sinners are warned against their doom ; there is nothing like fatalisrn in the story. The suitors are the type of the arrogant, irreligious democrats, who neither respect guests, nor honour the dead, nor reverence the Gods, but measure all things by the standard of their own enjoyment; and so the poet is against them; for true poets are almost bound to oppose the popular party, because of its utilitarian standard, which is never carried away by any lofty enthusiasm, and because of its absence of true reverence and self-restraint. It would have everything open and public. It was this want of self-restraint which caused the popularity, and was a fatal flaw in the real poetic power of Byron. Two other interesting observations lead to comparisons with modern poets. Homer's frequent references to simple peasant life, his description of beggars, the dignity with which he invests slaves, show that, like Burns, he was a poor man, in sympathy with poverty. But Honier tries to soothe the lot of the. poor ; he looks with a simple peasant's admiration on wealth, he treats it as the gift of heaven ; but he never rails against riches, nor is indignant at the injustice of Providence. On the other hand, Burns, with the same love of peasant life and simple nature, is unable to treat the rich with courteous gentleness ; his undisciplined love of pleasure leads to anxiety, indignation, querulousness ; he chafes against fortune and rails against the rich. Unlike Homer, he cannot be " A wise good man, contented to be poor.'' Again, a subtle examination of the treatment of THE PROFESSOR OF POETRY. 35 Nature in the Iliad and Odyssey leads Keble to think that the Iliad was written before, and the Odyssey after, the blindness of Homer. The Iliad is full of similes which are drawn from the passing phases of Nature, the gambols of animals, the changes in the sky, the quick movements of men, and are such as give evidence of a keen sight. The Odyssey has few such, but more complete descriptions of places, cities', harbours and rivers, such as a poet could recall and dwell upon in memory. If this is true, how much more striking still becomes the uniform spirit of bravery in the face of fortune, of happy contentment with the ways of heaven ; it lifts him to a level above Milton, the other great blind poet, who even in that poem of endurance and chastened religious spirit, the sonnet on his blindness, wants the full charm of Homeric content, and shows that in political life he would not side with Homer but rather with the restless popular cause. The examination of Homer is followed by an inter esting discussion, in which it is hard not to believe that Keble is referring to his own poetical history. The question is raised whether a great example in literature is likely to deter or to stimulate other poets. On the one side it is urged that young poets might think that all was done that could be done in poetry ; and that the more sensitive a poet was, the more would he be discouraged from placing his poetry into competition with his great predecessor. On the other side, — and it is this with which Keble sympathizes, — contact with a true poet kindles and inspires the timid; the strong and sanguine are stirred by emulation ; and the inex perienced are at least helped in the form of expression. No doubt thus a danger arises of the growth of a school 36 JOHN KEBLE. of servile imitators. Servile imitation, however, only affects the form, and the danger of it can be avoided by writing in a different kind of poetry. The conclusion is that a great example stimulates far more than it depresses. This was the case with Homer's example : for nearly all the poets of early Greece bear traces of his influence, and yet they have their own over mastering impulse, growing naturally out of and meeting the needs of their own days. The Minor Poets, Alcaeus, Sappho, Archilochus, Simonides, short as their extant fragments are, were all clearly primary poets, each of them striking out new metres to express their feelings. Such conspicuously was the case with ^Eschylus, who receives a fuller treatment than any poet. The whole of the lectures about him are marked by loving and keen insight ; the treatment of the Oresteia is excellent and will repay dwelling on at some length. The dominant feelings in iEschylus are twofold : (1) a hearty love of fighting, whether by land or sea ; (2) the sense of the mystery which hangs over human life, passing into a belief in an overruling Providence. No doubt the Prometheus Vinctus gives a contradictory impression ; Zeus seems there to be treated as an arbi trary tyrant, angry at benefits conferred on mankind; but this is only one play of an incomplete trilogy, and even in this there is a glimpse of a future deliverance for Prometheus, the friend of mankind. It is in the Oresteia that the religious tone and teaching of iEschylus find full expression ; it might be even regarded as a palinode for the Prometheus. It is a great vindication of the ways of God to man, for the fortunes of the family of Pelops are not the real centre on which the interest turns, but rather the triumph of Zeus. Zeus appears as THE PROFESSOR OF POETRY. 37 a righteous God, sternly inflicting punishment for sin ; but he is also a kindly God, who teaches mankind by their sufferings. Throughout the Agamemnon there runs a sense of awed expectation at the coming judgment. The half-comic rustic homely wit of the warder at the opening of the play is like the calm before a storm. Like the humour of Shakspere, it heightens the contrast with the tragedy to come ; it is so true to life, with its grotesque touches in the midst of sorrow. The sense of doom is intensified in the Chorus by the omens, given by birds and animals, which so often seem to share the secrets of heaven : the destruction of Troy was the act of Zeus taking venge ance for violated hospitality; there are hints of other doom yet in store for Agamemnon, and even in the beautiful picture of the sacrifice of Iphigenia, the interest is centred on Agamemnon as he shelters the weakness of his will under the plea that the sacrifice is an act of necessity. Clytemnestra tempts him to his fate, by forcing him by her taunts to walk on the purple tapestries; her words are full of double meaning; yet in her pretence of love, in her defence of the murder, in her appeal to the genius of the house, in her sacrifices to the Gods, she seems to bear witness to the stings of conscience, to the power of an innate fear of God. Cassandra appears as the type of prophecy, the witness for a present God though pointing to a future event. In the presence of the hypocrisy of Clytemnestra she is silent. When that is withdrawn, she bursts forth into inarticulate cries; as she finds sympathy in the Chorus, her prophecies become clearer and clearer. She is the most touching of all prophets on the Greek stage ; tender-hearted, full of pity for the sorrows of 38 JOHN KEBLE. men, ever mindful of parents and of country and of the love of Phcebus, she pours forth her prophecy, unfeed, unforced, not summoned from afar as an outsider, but herself sharing in the events. Her inspiration comes from no omens or auguries, but direct from the God himself; she is a standing witness that they who in crease knowledge increase sorrow for themselves; that the sharer of the secrets of heaven shares them to her own ruin; she has well-nigh the dignity of a martyr for the truth. Thus, though unrighteousness triumphs for the time, through the clouds and darkness is seen a hope of retribution : over all is felt a sense that no chance or fatalism is guiding events, but a wise and kindly providence. In the Choephorce this is more marked still. Instead of brooding expectation there is only serene confidence in the justice of God. The whole play is like a great liturgy ; it opens with prayer ; the action is carried on before the father's tomb ; the death of Clytemnestra is raised above all suspicion of personal vindictiveness into an act of righteous vengeance ; prayers recur again and again ; the Chorus recalls past instances of Divine Justice ; Orestes is like a priest offering the victims upon the altar ; over all stands supreme the command of heaven, and the sense of the presence of the murdered dead. The terrible character of the act is softened in the case of Orestes by the fact that he is acting against his natural instincts at the bidding of duty ; in the case of Electra by her gentleness for her mother and fondness for Orestes. The plot, however, grows more complicated. The murderess is punished, but a fresh deed of murder has been committed, and once more the murderer is punished. THE PROFESSOR OF POETRY. 39 What is to be the solution ? This is given in the Eumenides. There we see the reconciliation of mercy with strict justice, effected by an appeal to Zeus. Orestes is pursued to the very shrine of Apollo ; so near is he to destruction. The Eumenides represent the common idea of strict justice insisting on punish ment : Apollo represents forgiving mercy ; Orestes says little, he is confident in his cause, but humbly and reverently leaves it to Apollo. The final appeal is to the decision of Zeus, given — to please Attic pride — through the Areiopagus. Mercy triumphs, but the representatives of Justice are only just outvoted, and are ultimately reconciled and welcomed to dwell among men; lest any should think himself pious and good without godly and reverent fear. This trilogy is described in much greater detail than any other poem, and we have lingered over it as a piece of true criticism, which is of permanent value for the real appreciation of the plays. Probably no such sympathetic reading of the character of Cassandra is to be found elsewhere. The other Greek tragedians are treated slightly. But scant justice is done to Sophocles. His strongest claim to be regarded as a primary poet is based upon his love of home and the places associated with early life ; but this is not expressed often enough to put a permanent stamp upon his poetry. There is, apart from this, no one dominant feeling ; he does not draw direct from Nature ; his wonderful descriptions of pain are rather those of the bystander than of the sufferer ; the comic element of life is absent ; his minor charac ters are featureless : whole situations recur in different plays ; he is too even-tempered (evrcoAos) to sympathize 40 JOHN KEBLE. with strong feeling. His very excellences, the finished style, the over-elaborate plots, the scenic effects, make against his claim ; so he is ranked among the secondary poets, though first among them. About Euripides, on the other hand, Keble's opinion had changed with the deeper study required for these lectures. He ranks him now as a primary poet. His faults are, no doubt, obvious — the rhetorical and frigid sententiousness ; the too frequent political allusions ; the separation of his choral songs from the subject of the plot; yet he has a dominant passion in the love of human life in its domestic and simple forms. As Socrates brought philosophy into daily life, so Euripides brought poetry ; slaves are treated with dignity ; the feelings of his heroines are common to women of all classes ; he is no misogynist at heart, as the portraits of Antigone and Polyxena show ; he has no unbelieving hatred of the Gods, for nowhere are to be found more religious portraits than those of Hippolytus the chaste, of Ion, the dedicated servant of the Delphic temple, of the Bacchaa, the stewards of divine mysteries. Pindar meets with an even fuller and more enthusi astic treatment. He is undoubtedly a primary poet, for through all his elaborate metres, through his many digressions, through the variety of his themes, there is seen a genuine love for the old heroic age and for the great national games of Greece. This may seem a trivial point ; but as Scott's poetry had sprung from his love of hunting and of country life, so to a Greek the national 'games were a training-field for warfare, a rallying-centre for all his fellow-countrymen ; they were that which in Pindar's days most nearly reproduced the heroic age. So he lavishes his praise on everything THE PROFESSOR OF POETRY. 41 connected with them, the prizes, the banquets, the processions, the beauty of the victors, the liberality and virtues of the kings. He is a thorough aristocrat, but his own belief in an after-world, and the sanctity then allowed to poets, make him bold to rebuke and to advise both aristocrats and tyrants ; he combines the courage and self-confidence of youth with the cheerfulness of old age : he is true to his childish thought throughout his life ; fond of children, fond of flowers, fond of his country and its scenery. He is like the lark, that lyric bird with its free, joyous, unceasing song ; which starts from some simple nest in the barest field, and soars up with joy and song into the highest heavens, with no care to be uniform, but changing its note with each new thought in wondrous harmony. Pastoral poetry is discussed next, the poetry of the quieter spirits. This has always developed later than the poetry of action ; there was none in Greece proper in spite of the Greek love of Nature ; it began in Sicily and was developed at Rome : and this is partly because Nature is the natural solace of those who are wearied, wearied either with the life"of action, like Virgil, or with the life of thought, like Lucretius. Theocritus is the real inventor of such poetry, and he is inspired by a genuine love of the country; but yet he is not to be ranked as more than a secondary poet. The love of the country disappears in his later poems ; it was not a lifelong, overmastering feeling ; his style is diffuse and luxuriant; he is coarse and wants reserve. On the other hand, Lucretius and Virgil are both primary poets. The dominant feeling in Lucretius is his sense of the sadness of human life and the infinite mystery of Nature. He is always in earnest about his theme ; he 42 JOHN KEBLE. dwells mainly on the infinity of the universe, the swiftness of its movements, the strength of its hidden forces, the brightness of tbe heaven, the quick changes of the clouds, the density of the forests. It is true that he denies the existence of the Gods ; yet we may pardon one who lived before the fuller revelation had come, and whose mind was touched with madness; and his very love of the infinite is a witness to a striving after God. " It may even happen that while the main theme of a poem is the. open denial of the existence of the Gods, yet its tenor and tone is on the side of believers." J So it was with Lucretius ; this love of the infinite, his unwilling acknowledgment of a Providence that guides the world ; his sense of the evils of human life, of the emptiness of earthly pleasure ; his praise of quiet thought and philosophy; his reverence for the dead; the very roughness of his style, preferring truth to eloquence, and oppressed by the inadequacy of his native language to express the truth, are signs alike of a poetic and religious spirit. Virgil again is a primary poet — but not as the poet of action, not as the writer of the JEneid. His heart is not in the battle fray ; he neither loves nor makes us love his hero ; neither ^Eneas nor the lesser heroes are real, living characters ; war is " terrible war," breaking up the operations of peace. Whereas in Homer Nature is always subordinate to the action, in Virgil, as in a painting of Claude Lorraine's, action is subordinate to the natural beauty. The ^Eneid was written only to please Augustus; if there were any feeling of his own in it, it was the feeling of gratitude to Augustus for having secured him the enjoyment of the country life he 1 Prasl. Acad., p. 685. THE PROFESSOR OF POETRY. 43 loved. There all his heart is ; he loves the country-folk; he reproduces their quaint phrases and tlieir homely proverbs; he loves their flocks and their bees, like the true peasant, who treats them not as mere means of gain, but as friends and companions, and is alive to all their wants, anxieties, and comforts. The very vines are half personified ; their training is like the education of the young; and the country itself appeals to him as strongly, though quite differently, as it did to Lucretius. Lucretius dwells on its infinite mysteries; Virgil on its tranquil beauty : Lucretius scarcely ever mentions any particular place, unless it is necessary for his argument ; Virgil is constantly introducing local allusions, whether to places known in his childhood, or visited in travel, or consecrated by some religious association : Lucretius never mentions his childhood at all ; Virgil dwells affectionately on his : Lucretius emphasizes the evils of life ; Virgil faces them as an optimist, and sees in them a stimulus for action and a ground of hope. His admiration for Lucretius did not make him an Epicurean ; rather his belief in the universal spirit, infused into all life and guiding all history, his frequent mention of Gods, Nymphs, and Manes ; his faith in omens ; his sense of the sympathy of Nature with man ; his reverence in speaking of the dead — mark him as a Platonist. Thus he — the last primary poet among the Latins (for Horace with all his charm has no one overmastering impulse) — in many ways prepared the way for Christian Truth, and becoming the text-book of education and the inspirer of Dante, has remained an influence to the present day. The examination of the classical poets ends with 44 JOHN KEBLE. Virgil, in the lectures on Poetry. In the course of* them there are several interesting illustrations from English poetry, and some of these are more fully worked out in the Reviews. Thus Shakspere "gave play to the real sympathy which he seems to have felt towards all natural and common affections, in a degree hardly conceivable by ordinary men." * Spenser is ranked higher than Milton as a sacred poet, because of the reserve which led him to throw his poem in the form of an allegory, and by that means and by his allusive style to veil the depth of his thought in the Faerie Queen, which is " a continual, deliberate endeavour to enlist the restless intellect and chivalrous feeling of an enquiring and romantic age on the side of goodness and faith, of purity and justice." 2 Milton was of a cast of mind originally austere and rigorous. He made a noble effort to rescue religion from the Puritan's degradation of it, by choosing a theme of universal and eternal importance; but he was too out-spoken, too much marred by intellectual and spiritual pride ; hence his undervaluing of woman's character, his half-attractive portraiture of Satan, his want of purity and spirituality in his conception of heaven, are serious blemishes, though they do not affect his claim to be considered "the very lodestar and pattern of that class of sacred poets in England." 3 The inspiration of Scott is drawn from the passionate love of Scotch chivalry which was associated with the scenes of his childhood. His lame ness, his profession, his domestic sorrows prevented any active indulgence of such love, and threw back his feelings upon themselves, until at last they found 1 Life of Sir W. Scott, p. 23. 2 Sacred Poetry, p. 98. 3 Ibid., pp. 102—104. THE PROFESSOR OF POETRY. 45 expression in his poetry. "His theme is 'a romantic idealization of Scottish aristocracy ' ; but his romance is not like Homer's, who rejoiced in describing the present, and investing it with a supernatural light ; it is not like Tasso's, told with solemnity and reverence, as though in fulfilment of a religious vow; nor like Spenser's, the form and garb in which the visions of an ideal world and longings for supernatural perfection are . clothed. It is more like that of Pindar, starting- from the present and working back into past ages ; yet the association with his childhood marks him off from all these poets, and gives his poetry a colouring of sim plicity short only of that which would have resulted from actual truth." 2 The theory of poetry here advanced rests mainly upon the Poetics of Aristotle. " Expression by metrical words " is Keble's translation of piprjo-Hs ; the refusal to test poetry merely by its form is common to both. The distinction of primary and secondary poets corresponds in some measure to that of the enthusiastic and versatile temperaments to which Aristotle traces poetry; the medical effect of poetry is akin to the "purgation" which Aristotle attributes to tragedy. But Aristotle writes as a critic, and is thinking of the effect upon the readers ; Keble, as a poet, dwells primarily on the effect upon the poet, and secondarily on that upon the readers. He is independent too of his master, and ventures to criticize him on several points, such as the importance which he assigns to the action in a tragedy. He draws from a much wider store of knowledge than Aristotle, and takes as his final guide the poems of the Old Testament, "that sacred volume which corrects so 1 Ufe of Sir W. Scolt, p. 50. 46 JOHN KEBLE. many of our erring anticipations." 1 " From their perfect parallelism they are the most artificial of all composi tions, yet none ever so apt to relieve the deepest and most overflowing minds ; exhibiting therefore by their very form, as compared with their matter, the perfection of that self-control which must itself be the perfection of a mixed creature like man ; thoughts that breathe and words that burn, exactly obeying a certain high law and shaped by it into perfect order." 2 To some such a theory may seem too much to deny the value of spontaneity, too much dominated by a religious mood, too relative to a dogmatic standard. But it must be remembered that Keble does not profess to explain every function or source of poetry ; he is only seeking for a standard that shall guide us to the best poets; he does admit of a different standard in judging heathen writers ; and he believes that the truest spon taneity is that which is controlled by the sense of dependence on a higher Power. " The worshippers of Baal may be rude and frantic in their cries and gestures, but the true prophet speaking to or of the true God is all dignity and calmness."3 The canon for which he contends is this, that the best poets are those who have felt throughout their life the deepest feelings about Nature, about man, and about God which were possible at their time. Such a theory at least adds the highest dignity to the function of the poet. Keble approaches the subject with something of religious awe. Although in his review of Copleston's lectures he had condemned the practice of lecturing in Latin, he defends and even 1 Sacred Poetry, p. 95. 2 Life of Sir W. Scott, p. 18. 3 Sacred Poetry, p. 91. THE PROFESSOR OF POETRY. 47 welcomes it for himself, as it enforces deeper thought and makes the lecturer consider what is true, not what is taking or eloquent. His task is " most serious, well- nigh sacred." Poetry is treated by him as akin to philosophy ; they both seek truth, though philosophy begins with Nature as apparently the more abstruse theme, and comes back to human life when the problems of existence become more difficult; poetry begins with human life, and takes refuge from its perplexities in Nature. More closely still is poetry akin to religion. Providence has watched over it, ordering even the developments of its various styles. As among the Jews the poetic writings of the prophets prepared the way for the Messiah, so among tho Gentiles the best literature, whether philosophical or poetical, played the same part. Hence it is that Christians can still read the Pagan poets with a religious interest ; they can afford to judge such a poet as Lucretius more tolerantly than Cicero could, as they view him re latively to bis times. But he fancies he hears the Puritan objection that the study of such Pagan literature is unnecessary now that we have a fuller Revelation. No, he answers, far from it. It is true that in the early Christian Church some writers de nounced Pagan literature, but even they used it, and were only anxious that it should not stand as a rival to the absolute Truth. It is true, too, that the early Christian Church had few poets of its own ; but they had as solace for their overburdened feelings the Hebrew poetry, the grandeur of the early Liturgies, and the whole Sacramental system.1 We who have so little hold on this may well be thankful to God for the poets 1 Pral. Acad., xxxi. 48 JOHN KEBLE. who soothe our feelings and stir our aspirations. Even if Pagan poets seem unnecessary, yet Nature is ever liberal of its gifts; it showers them on man with no utilitarian hand ; and poetry, such as that of Virgil or Lucretius, is one of its greatest gifts, with its constant witness that neither action nor thought are adequate to satisfy the human spirit. When Christian poets did arise, they prepared the way for improvements in Religion, just as Shakspere and Spenser led the way to the Caroline revival, or Scott revived the interest in the past in our own times. For in essence Poetry and Religion are at one, and they demand one and the same temper of mind. Each is an attempt to express man's strongest feelings and to lay hold of the highest truths. Poetry lends its wealth of symbol and simile to tbe service of Religion, and Religion returns them glorified. Poetry takes to itself " all subjects which can anyhow take entire hold of the imagination and cause it to seek relief by indirect expression."1 "The poet of the Church will find neither feeling nor condition in human life or in the works of God beyond his reach or without his province." 2 Yet Poetry, like Religion, hides its deepest truths and reveals them only to the pure in heart, to those who love them enough to press into their secrets. Thus Poetry rises almost to the dignity of a Sacrament, with its outward visible words and inward spiritual truth. As the poet himself needs, no less than the religious man, to choose his object of love worthily, to praise it sincerely, to commit himself heartily to it, to be courageously and con sistently loyal to it, so the reader has to approach the poem as a worshipper would a Sacrament, with 1 Life of Sir W. Scott, p. 15. 2 Ibid., p. 79. .< k THE PROFESSOR OF POETRY. 49 reverence and a determination to press inward to its heart. "A good deal is to be gained from the mere habit of looking at things with a view to something beyond their qualities merely sensible ; to their sacred and moral meaning and to the high associations they were intended to create in us. Neither the works nor the word of God, neither poetry nor theology, can be duly comprehended without constant mental exercise of this kind. Without something of this sort, poetry and all the other arts would be relaxing to the tone of the mind." 1 The instrument which the poet uses is the imagination ; all poetic pleasure is referred to the awakening ef some moral or religious feeling, not by direct instruction but by way of association ; hence there must be some elasticity in the reader's mind, else it will not vibrate to the touch of the artist. " Wherever, from the beauty of the thing imitated or from the skill of the imitator, the mind is excited to fill up the picture for itself, there is poetical pleasure, not however produced by the perception of likeness, but by the workings of the imagination." 2 This outline fails to do justice to a volume which Dean Church has called "the most original and memorable course ever delivered from the Chair of Poetry in Oxford ; " s and Bishop Moberley, in even stronger praise, " One of the most charming and valuable volumes of classical criticism that ever issued from the press." 4 But it may serve to draw the attention of a later generation to it and may suggest the advisability of an English translation. 1 Sacred Poetry, p. 100. s Review of Copleston, p. 156. 3 The Oxford Movement, p. 273. 4 Preface to J. K.'s Miscellaneous Poems, p. xxi. CHAPTER III. THE CHRISTIAN TEAR. " Tby book I love because thyself art there."— I. Williams. Ever since his undergraduate days poetic expression had been a relief to Keble in his deepest moods, and at least as early as 1819 he had begun the poems which now appear in the Christian Year, and by 1820 had formed the idea of a complete collection to illus trate the Sundays and Holy Days of the year. The conception was probably original with him, although of course it is in a line with much of Christian Poetry. The Peristephanon and Cathemerinon of Prudentius are exactly parallel, not being hymns for public worship, but poetic meditations on the Martyrs' festivals and the daily hours. There is, too, something akin to it in English poetry in The Hymns and Songs of the Church by G. Wither (1623), and an even closer analogy is to be found in Eaton's Holy Calendar of 1661.1 This is a , small and interesting volume, consisting of a treble series of epigrams written to illustrate all the chief 1 Tbe Holy Calendar, by N. Eaton, Doctor of Philosophy and Medicine, and Vicar of Bishop's Castle, Salop, 1661 ; reprinted by J. Tasker, Shrewsbury, 1888. THE CHRISTIAN YEAR. 51 festivals and saints' days of the Church of England. It is written by a strong Cavalier and Churchman. As is natural at such a moment, the epigrams are fulsome in their adulation of the King, and quaint and fanciful in conceit ; yet there is much of real beauty and true feeling in them, and they are a striking witness to the continuity of the doctrine of the Church of England ; there is as strong a reverence for the saints and especially for the Blessed Virgin, as clear a statement of the doctrine of the Real Presence of the Lord in His Sacrament, as would be found in any Tractarian writings. It will therefore be excused if I quote two specimens of this book. The first is a good instance of the writer's simple sweetness of thought. NEW YEAR'S DAY. (Epigr. 1.) " 'Tis custome, Lord, this day to send A gift to every vulgar freind, And shall I find no gift for Tbee, That art tbe best of freinds to me 1 There's nothing which my thoughts survey, My life, my soul, tbe light, the day ; But they are all Thy gifts to me, And shall I find no gift for Tbee 1 Yea, Lord, behold I bear conferr My life, my soul, and wbatsome're Thy liberal band hath given to me, Back as a new-year's gift on Tbee. Say'd I a gift ? Ab ! 'tis not so, Alas botb men and Angels know That all these things Thy Cbrist hath bought, And therefore I can give Tbee naught." The second will serve to illustrate the writer's interpretation of the doctrine of the Church of England — ASCENSION DAY. (Epigr. 2.) " Look in what sense the Son of Man was said To be in Heaven whilst yet on earth He stayd. 52 JOHN KEBLE. In the same sense we grant His body, though In Heaven, may still be say'd to be below. He is ascended all agree, that same Material flesh and blood of His that came From the pure Virgin's Womb, Heavens now retain, And until all things be restor'd again, Must still retain it ; yet it is contest, That when tbe holy Elements are blest By tbe Priest's powerful lipe, though nothing there To outward sense but Bread and Wine appear, Yet doth there under those dark formes reside The body of the Son of Man that dy'd : This, wbat bold tongue soever dotb deny, Gives in effect even Christ Himself tbe ly. Yet this wboe're too grossly doth maintain, Pulls bis ascended Lord from Heaven again. A middle course 'twixt these two rocks to steer, Is that becomes the Christian Mariner. So to beleeve the Ascension as to grant His Real Presence in tbe Sacrament ; Yet so His Real Presence there to own As not to make void His Ascension." There is no evidence that Keble knew this work, although his article on Sacred Poetry shows a wide acquaintance with previous religious poets. His favourite poets were Shakspere j1 Spenser, whose alle gorical form seemed to him to suit the true reserve which a poet ought to feel; George Blerbert, with his deep penitence and chastened fu^ for his Master ; Words worth, with his religious ^ihpathy with Nature ; Scott, with his enthusiasm for the days of chivalry and loyalty; and, though in a less and lessening degree, Southey. Ye^ his poems cannot be said to bear the trace of any direct influence upon their form. The interesting discussion in the Prmlectiones on the influence of Homer perhaps suggests that the writer himself was conscious of having been kindled by some 1 Froude (Remains, i., p. 209), in a letter to J. K., speaks of " Your favourite play, Measure for Measure." THE CHRISTIAN YEAR. 53 one great poet ; if so, was it Homer ? Certainly the language of Homer has inspired some of the best poems of the Christian Year.1 Or was it Scott, to whom he goes back so frequently in the Prmlectiones, and of wbom he speaks so lovingly in his review of Lockhart's life ? Certainly either Homer with his idealization of the heroic age, or Scott with that of the age of chivalry, would kindle his own love of the recollections of childhood or the glories of the early Church, though the very sense of such dependence would keep him on his guard against direct imitation of their form. In the earlier poems, indeed, Southey's influence of form and thought is perceptible, and in a less degree that of Scott and Wordsworth, but he had shaken himself free and has a style that is independ ent and entirely his own in the Christian Year. It is marred from time to time by want of smoothness of metre, by obscurity in the connection of the thought between verse and verse, but on the whole it is spon taneous, melodious, and clear. It was while he was Tutor at Oriel that the collection of poems began to grow, but it was the time of his curacies in Gloucestershire and Hampshire which was most prolific. This was a period when his feelings were deeply stirred, both by his mother's death in 1823, and by that of his favourite sister in 1826. In 1825 a long attachment on which he. had set his heart ended in a refusal, and some of the sweetest efforts after resignation in the poems date from this year; and it was, too, a period which supplied him with the tran quillity which transfuses emotion into poetry. He had 1 Cf. The Holy Innocents; Sixth Sunday after Epiphany; Monday before Easter. 54 JOHN KEBLE. no idea of publication; he would have preferred that the poems should appear after his death, but they were shown among his friends. Arnold wrote as early as 1823, "It is my firm opinion that nothing equal to them exists in our language ; the wonderful knowledge of Scripture, the purity of heart, and the richness of poetry, which they exhibit, I never saw paralleled." Froude was more critical, thinking that they were addressed too much to matter-of-fact good people, and that they did not do enough to sober down into practical piety those whose feelings were acute, and who were inclined to indulge in a dreamy, visionary existence. He was afraid that people would take the writer of them for a Methodist.1 Dyson pressed him to publish ; Davison suggested that he should add the poems for the Occasional Services; his own father was anxious to see the work published before his death, and this was a pressure which he could never resist. Accordingly many poems were retouched to meet the criticism of obscurity, the last poems were written in the spring of 1827, and on May 30th the Preface was composed. The draft of this, which is preserved in tbe Library of Keble College, is written, like so many of his poems, on the back of an old letter, and consists of two paragraphs. In the first copy the paragraph which now stands second came first, but on writing it out he seems to have thought it better to state first the true spirit of the Church of England, and then the way in which this book attempted to conform to it. The whole object of it was to promote a sober standard of feeling in matters of practical religion and to illustrate the soothing tendency of the Prayer-book. It may be interesting to notice 1 Remains, i., p. 184. THE CHRISTIAN YEAR. 55 two changes which were made at the last moment. In the MS. of the Morning Hymn there is found after the fourth stanza a fifth which has not been published — " Hence tbe poor sinner still has found Life but one dull unvarying round ; And mourned ere half bis course was run, That nought is new beneath tbe sun." This appears in the proof of the first edition, but it must have been struck out at the last moment, perhaps from a feeling that the sad side of life had already been sufficiently dwelt on in a morning hymn which was to open the volume. Again, in the poem for Christmas Day, after stanza v. was inserted — " The heart imbued with earth Is but a place of guests. Where foul- winged tboughts of lowly birth Successive make tbeir nests ; Each in bis twilight gloom with cheerless moan, Fluttering a little while, and then for ever gone." It will be seen that this gives fresh point to the contrast in stanza vi. of the pure thoughts which dwell where Christ is ; but again the writer has not cared to emphasize the dark side of the picture. The volume was a success at once : Newman writes on June 10th, " Keble's hymns seem quite exquisite." His sister says, " The commendation of them from all the choicest people is so great as to satisfy even our voracious appetite for praise." A second edition was called for within the year, and edition has succeeded edition with almost unparalleled quickness ever since. Nowhere in the Preface is there any reference to himself, and the book (in two volumes of small 8vo.) was published anonymously ; nor did he add his name in subsequent editions. In the third edition in 1828 56 JOHN KEBLE. the last six poems were added, including the poem on November 5th, which was entitled, An Address to Converts from Popery. Beyond this no further altera tions were made, save that on his deathbed he sanctioned the change in the thirteenth stanza of this poem. This had run — " 0 come to our Communion Feast ! There, present in the heart, Not in tbe bands, the eternal Priest Will his true self impart." Probably he would not himself have written this line in later life, for he stated in 1845 that when he wrote the Christian Year he did not fully understand the doctrine of the Holy Eucharist, but he frequently refused to alter it. Froude had criticized it as early' as 1835 (Remains, i. p. 403) ; Dr. Pusey had discussed it with him in 1855, and he had then half playfully said, "I suppose that the real correction would be to put 'As' instead of 'Not';" but it seemed to him valuable as a protection against a notion of a gross carnal Presence (Euch. Ador. Pref. p. xiii, note, 1859) ; and he argued that on the analogy of such passages as " I will have mercy and not sacrifice," it might be legitimately interpreted as meaning "not in the hands only."1 But on February 9th, 1866, Bishop Jeune had quoted the lines in Convocation as express ing Mr. Keble's opinion against a real objective Pre sence ; and this weighed upon his mind so much that he decided to make the alteration which he had pre viously suggested, and it was carried out after his death by his executor. 1 In one copy of the Original Poems be has written " There, treasured in the heart." It seems a pity that this was not preserved, THE CHRISTIAN YEAR. 57 He never liked to speak of the volume or hear it spoken of. Why was it that he shrunk from this ? The answer shall be given in the words of an old parish ioner of Hursley, whose husband had been in Keble's service, and who said twenty-four years after his death, while her honest face glowed with pleasure as she spoke of him — "Father and I do read the Christian Year every Sunday, and it do bring Mm out to us more than we knew even when he was alive." It laid bare all his deepest feelings of love and penitence ; it had been written purely for his own relief, and it seemed to be wanting in due reserve to publish it. He had fre quently treated poetry as well-nigh sacramental, as the outward and visible sign of an inward and spiritual truth ; and this seemed almost like exposing a Sacra ment to be gazed at. There was too the humbler feeling that he had such a slight hold upon that inward and spiritual truth ; that he might have misrepresented it ; that as far as he had truly represented it, it had only flashed from time to time upon his sight, and that if people could only come and gaze into his heart, they might find it so very different from the ideal which he had tried to portray. This will appear even more clearly if we judge him by his own test. He has said that every true poet has some one permanent overmastering emotion which breaks out again and again and clamours for utterance. Would it not be true to' say that with him it was " the love of innocence " ? There is deep down in his heart the belief that man can answer to the love of God ; that sin is an outside element which need not be with us ; that innocence is possible ; that if it has been forfeited, still the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ can restore it. It is the passion for purity 58 JOHN KEBLE. which made him so very gentle to children ; it is this which inspired the Lyra Innocentium ; it is "the innocent brightness of an infant's face " 1 which drew him to them, which made him bend over the children whom he baptized with such loving tenderness as they recalled the sense of what he might have been, and what Christ yet might make him ; it was " the bliss of childlike innocence" that seemed to him to give such insight to the old age of a true Christian ; it was this which made him love the fifty-first Psalm so much, because it told of that free spirit blest " Who to the contrite can dispense Tbe princely heart of innocence." 2 It was this which turned his thoughts so often to the type of purity, the Virgin Mother "so pure and sweet," and prompted that which seems to have been the earliest poem of the volume, " Bless'd are the pure in heart, For they shall see our God ; The secret of the Lord is theirs, Their soul is Christ's abode." But this was not simply a personal individual feeling. M. Renan has said of St. Paul that he felt for his churches the same affection which ordinarily people feel for the dearest objects of their love. That is true of Keble's feeling for the Church of England : he is jealous for her innocence, her good name, her purity, her freedom. As he had chosen for his favourite poets those whose overmastering emotion was for the glories of the past, so his own enthusiasm was kindled by the 1 The Holy Innocents, stanza iv. 2 Sixth Sunday after Trinity. THE CHRISTIAN YEAR. 59 glories of the early Church, and the bright spots in her subsequent history. In his own words, " the Christian Year always supposes the Church to be in a state of decay," and he cannot acquiesce in a Church so sluggish, so worldly, so utilitarian, because of the purity of his ideal. But he cannot despair : he recalls the student Jerome " cheering his sickening heart with his own native air," in the worst days of error; the mailed monarch St. Louis, through court and camp holding his heavenward course serene; the calm and sweet of Isaac Walton's life amidst the age of light, light without love ; ' and all these memories are meant to awaken the slumbering, to inspire fresh hope, to lead the Church to be true to its first eager life of purity and truth. The whole volume is a dirge over the lost glory of the Church; but it is much more than that ; it is a trumpet-call to Christians to be true to the life which is in them, even though they may have to face the martyr's death. Christian brothers imust draw closer together to bear witness to the value of each soul and to knit firmly the bond of brotherhood. It seemed to him that it was the true function of poetry to rise above the marks of sin and woe and to recreate the ideal before men, and he rouses poets to their task in these stirring words — " Ye whose hearts are beating bigb With the pulse of Poesy, Heirs of more tban royal race, Fram'd by Heaven's peculiar grace, God's own work to do on earth (If tbe word be not too bold), Giving virtue a new birth, And a life that ne'er grows old — 1 First Sunday in Advent. 60 JOHN KEBLE. Sovereign masters of all hearts ! Know ye wbo batb set your parts 1 He who gave you breath, to sing, By whose strength ye sweep the string ; He bath chosen yon, to lead His Hosannas here below ; — Mount, and claim your glorious meed ; Linger not with sin and woe." It was the thought of this ideal which saddened him so much that poets like Byron and Shelley — " Lips that might half heaven reveal " — should linger over passion and vice and be sealed in thankless silence towards God. Taking then this love of innocence as our keynote, we will examine the Christian Year rather more in detail. Some of its most beautiful poems are drawn forth by the love of Nature : there is little wealth of description; the voices of the mountain and of the sea are but little heard in it ; in the main he depicts the quiet woodland scenery of the neighbourhood of Fairford. In his own words about his poems — " tlieir cherished haunt batb been By streamlet, violet bank, and orchard green, Mid lowly views and scenes of common earth.'' The soft green willow that teaches him " content ment's power " grew on the road from Fairford to Coin St. Aldwyn. The spot where, near to each other, rise the Thames and a small tributary of the Severn, suggested the poem for the Monday in Easter week; a small island in the river Test that for the next day.1 Or again, he dwells on the features of the Holy Land as known to him from travellers' descriptions; but in both alike he touches with a delicate accuracy the 1 Miss Yonge, Musings on the Christian Year, pp. 47, 129, 131. THE CHRISTIAN YEAR. 61 characteristic feature and makes it live before our eyes. His poems have been compared to a woodland scene by Gainsborough for their freshness, their absence of exaggeration, their indescribable charm. Sometimes he describes Nature for the sake of her own beauty ; he is the poet of the fresh sunrise, of the rainbow pride of summer days, but — how characteristically — more of the sunset's beauty and the glory of decaying autumn. As he watches it, a life seems to pervade the universe ; nay, it seems to throb to the stirrings of love. " The clouds that wrap the setting sun When autumn's softest gleams are ending, Where all bright hues together run In sweet confusion blending : — Why, as we watch their floating wreatb Seem they tbe breath of life to breathe 1 To fancy's eye their motions prove They mantle round tbe sun for love. " When up some woodland dale we catcb Tbe many- twinkling smile of Ocean, Or with pleas'd ear bewildered watch His chime of restless motion ; Still as the surging waves retire They seem to gasp with strong desire ; Sucli signs of love old Ocean gives, We cannot choose but tbink be lives." But it is seldom that Nature is described for her own sake : his mind hurries on to catch her lesson for man, and to draw out her influence upon him, to interpret "The secret lore of rural things, The moral of each fleeting cloud and gale, Tbe whispers from above that haunt the twilight vale." The joyous praise of Nature, as she does her work, " all true, all faultless, all in tune," as she pays her " tribute to the genial heaven," as, 62 JOHN KEBLE. " True to her trust, tree, herb, or reed, Sbe renders for each scattered seed," is a type of true, innocent service ; as she passes away in quiet decay, losing her life though pure from sin and stain, yet all unmurmuring, she is a type of the gopd man sinking peacefully to his end. " How quiet shows the woodland scene ! Each flower and tree, its duty done, Reposing in decay serene, Like weary men when age is won, Sucb calm old age as conscience pure And self-commanding hearts ensure, Waiting tbeir summons to the sky, Content to live, but not afraid to die." More often a sad contrast is drawn; Nature is ever " reproving thankless man " ; her obedience stands over against his "rebel works and will " ; her gratitude against his "thankless joyless sight " ; her "trust entire and cease less praise " against his sadness, whether it be that man only forgets God and yields nought in return for his lavish gifts, or whether it be that the sinner is borne down by the sense of remorse and penitence, and cannot rise to the true joyousness of forgiveness, but idly ¦' dreams of blessings gone," " Or wakes tbe spectral forms of woe and crime, When Nature sings of joy and hope alone, Reading her cheerful lesson in her own sweet time." But Nature is no cruel censor of man ; her lesson is cheerful ; her nurslings are companions gay in child hood, soothing in the sorrows of older years ; she can even lend of her own stores of innocence to man, and will lend ungrudgingly. THE CHRISTIAN YEAR. 63 " Ye dwell beside our paths and homes, Our paths of sin, our homes of sorrow, And guilty man, where'er be roams, Your innocent mirth may borrow. The birds of air before us fleet, They cannot brook our sbame to meet — But we may taste your solace sweet, And come again to-morrow." * But there is a deeper truth still ; the whole of Nature is rich with symbolic meaning, and full of teaching about the things of God. " My book," said St. Antony, " is Nature, and it is always by me if I want to read the works of God." This is the very spirit of the three great poems on Nature in the Christian Year, those for Septuagesima Sunday, and for the Fourth Sunday after Trinity, and for the Fourth Sunday in Advent. It is brought out in logical argument in Tract No. 89, with which we shall deal later : here it is expressed in lyrical beauty. All Nature is the work of God's hand, laid out by him for man to read. It is, in a word, sacramental, it is an external, visible sign, through which we ought to read a spiritual truth; " The colouring may be of this earth, Tbe lustre comes of heavenly birth." Even Pagan seers and poets had a faint consciousness of this deep meaning of earthly things, but for Christians all is made clear. Now that the earth has been made the scene of the Incarnation, " Henceforth, to eyes of bigb desire, Tbe meanest things below, As witb a serapb's robe of fire Invested, burn and glow." 1 Fifteenth Sunday after Trinity. 64 JOHN KEBLE. Christ's death and resurrection have given earth a newer meaning — " And tbe base world, now Christ has died, Ennobled is and glorified." So the eyes of his high desire are keen to trace these analogies : his Love to offer of her best. The sky is like the Maker's Love ; the sun is like the Light of the World ; the moon like the Church which reflects its rays ; the stars are the saints above ; the trees the saints below ; the dew is the grace of heaven ; the fire and the wind tell of the Spirit; the oleanders on the shores of the Lake of Gennesaret are like hermits watching around the sacred hill where the Saviour had prayed ; the Paschal moon is like a saint left alone with Christ; the morning sun shining on each dew- brightened blade of grass, and giving it a new lustre, speaks of the value of each soul ; or again, as it scatters the darkness of the night and the mists of the morning and lights up the whole city with its glow, it is a symbol of the Gospel message reaching and kindling Mammon's gloomiest cells, and fills us with the certain hope that " No mist that man may raise shall hide the eye of Heaven." 1 Some of these illustrations may seem fanciful, but the analogy underlies all our Lord's teaching by parables, and if we do not take Nature as the adequate type of man with his free will, it must be true. But even in tracing these analogies the thought of sin breaks in; Ave may interpret these analogies wrongly ; we may be entirely deafened to their message ; we may only cast 1 In every summer night "Heaven i^s teaching earth to comfort man." Miscellaneous Poems, p. 24J2. THE CHRISTIAN YEAR. 65 wistful looks at the bright things in earth and sky ; but the fault lies with us, not with them, and not with Him who made them — " Two worlds are ours ; 'tis only sin Forbids us to descry Tbe mystic beaven and earth within, Plain as tbe sea and sky." The passion for innocence is equally marked in the treatment of human life. Each soul is of infinite value in Christ's sight: each Christian has received special privileges, and cannot ever be as the heathen, ever be as though he had not received them. Hence the true attitude even of sinless human life is that of grateful dependence upon God, and while true to that, each human virtue is strong and beautiful. The son's and mother's love is of all the most sacred, because that was Christ's own ; the love of brother for brother lasts unimpaired although they part in life; a comrade's song bids the lonely watcher to be bold and strong; married life seems to have a glory above that of this earth — " And there are souls which seem to dwell Above this earth — so rich a spell Floats round tbeir steps, where'er tbey move, From hopes fulfilled and mutual love." Nowhere could we have a more exact description of all that makes the Englishman's idea of a true home than in the lines — " Sweet is tbe smile of home ; tbe mutual look When hearts are of eacb other sure ; Sweet all tbe joys that crowd tbe household nook, Tbe baunt of all affections pure." And though none need leave the world for cloistered cell, yet in a sense the " hermits blest and holy maids '' 66 JOHN KEBLE. are the nearest heaven on earth ; for this earth has but shadows which we may not rest in; no help save Him who made it is meet for thej30ul, and all earthly love must be foregone at His dear call. Thus much would be true had man never sinned; but, in fact, he is " a sinner in a life of care " ; even joy has its dangers, " There is an awe in mortal's joy, A deep mysterious fear." Praise is a peril to him ; his tears of penitence may be self-deceiving; there must be discipline, self-denial, sobriety, reserve, " clean hands and a self-ruling mind." Each Christian has to learn " the lowly lesson of con tent " ; his voice must take " somewhat of Resignation's tone " ; he must be " Ready to give thanks and live On tbe least that Heaven may give," for " to be tranquil and be blest " is the path of safety, and the lesson of sweet peace is " rather to be resigned than blest." Those who live such lives, who spend with Christ their happy days, are sure to know Him by proof, and are able to tell of Him to their brethren, till they too see the. Saviour plain. And yet we may not have any sense of assurance such as will let us for one moment relinquish effort or lose the sense of depend ence. "The gray-haired saint may fail at last": nothing but death can bind us fast to the shore of love. This is a part of our probation, and the thought recurs again and again in the poems, as we shall find it later in the arguments about the Roman controversy. It is found in the most strong of all the outpourings of THE CHRISTIAN YEAR. 67 personal affection for the Saviour, in one of his earliest poems — " Then, fainting soul, arise and sing, Mount, but be sober on tbe wing ; Mount up, for heaven is won by prayer, Be sober, for thou art not there ; Till Death tbe weary spirit free, Tby God batb said, 'Tis good for thee To walk by faith and not by sigbt ; Take it on trust a little while ; Soon sbalt tbou read the mystery right In tbe full sunshine of His smile." It is found equally strong four years later — " There are who, darkling and alone, Would wish the weary night were gone, Though dawning morn should only shew The secret of their unknown woe : Wbo pray for sharpest throbs of pain To ease them of doubt's galling chain : ' Only disperse tbe cloud,' tbey cry, ' And if our fate be death, give light and let us die.' " Unwise I deem tbem, Lord, unmeet To profit by Tby chastenings sweet, For Tbou wouldst bave us linger still Upon the verge of good or ill, That on Thy guiding band unseen Our undivided, hearts may lean, And this our frail and foundering bark Glide in tbe narrow wake of Tby beloved ark." Sorrow and disappointment are treated as God's blessings in disguise, because they make us see that this is to be no world of rest for us. We may not wish them away, we can only pray for a thankful heart, and feel that we are never so safe as when " . . . . our will Yields undiscerned by all but God." But what of the sorrow of sin, of remorse, of the secret 68 JOHN KEBLE. memories of evil, which weigh us down ? That too is God smiling on us in wrath : but we may not give way to melancholy; we may not nurse even thoughts of remorse : we must confess our sins ; but then we must look away from self to Christ's atoning work — " .... by tbe judge within Absolved, in thankful sacrifice to part For ever with thy sullen heart, Nor on remorseful thoughts to brood, and stain Tbe glory of tbe Cross, forgiven and cbeer'd in vain." Here, where he is speaking of each worshipper taking part in the Commination Service, the language is only of the judge within : elsewhere he speaks of the com fort of human aid — " How sweet, in that dark bour, to fall On bosoms waiting to receive Our sighs, and gently whisper all 1 They love us— will not God forgive 1 " For through humanity man passes up to God. On the one hand he who fails in human love will be unable to respond to the Divine — "The heart that scorn'd a father's care, How can it rise in filial prayer 1 How an all-seeing Guardian bear 1 Or how shall envious brethren own A Brother on tb' eternal throne, Their Father's joy, their hope alone 1 How shall Thy Spirit's gracious wile The sullen brow of gloom beguile, That frowns on sweet Affection's smile ? " On the other hand, Christ's pastors have to teach " first filial love and then Divine " ; the love of human friends is an assurance that God, who loves us better than He knows, will forgive ; for His love will not THE CHRISTIAN YEAR. 69 fail, even if father and mother forsake ; Christ will ever perform a brother's part. Principal Shairp has singled it out as one of the special characteristics of Keble that, combined with devout reverence for the Person of our Lord, there is in him, first perhaps of his contemporaries, a closer, more personal love to Him as a living Friend. Again, Dean Church has said that one result of Tractarianism was the increased care for the Gospels and study of them as compared with other parts of the Bible.1 Is there any connection between these two facts, and is this another part of the debt which Tractarianism owes to Keble ? Certainly the Gospel scenes are dwelt on with loving details ; certainly the Lord is ever present as the abiding Friend, as the Saviour. The doctrine of the Atonement is indeed dear to the writer ; it is only when " sprinkled with His atoning blood " that Christians can stand before their God; but (to adapt Dean Church's words) the great Name stands no longer for an abstract symbol of doctrine, but for a living Master, who can teach as well as save. He is the Friend who can abide with us from morn till eve ; He is dearer than father or mother, than brother or husband; caring for each of His followers " as if beside nor man nor angel lived in heaven or earth." What language could tell of trustful personal love more directly than this ? " My Saviour, can it ever be That I should gain by losing Tbee ? Tbe watchful mother tarries nigh Though sleep have closed her infant's eye, For should be wake and find ber gone, She knows sbe could not bear bis moan. 1 Oxford Movement, p. 167. 70 JOHN KEBLE. But I am weaker than a child, And Thou art more than mother dear ; Without Tbee beaven were but a wild : How can I live without Tbee here ? " This personal love of God is ever round us; in Nature, in the Gospel, in the Church are His gifts and His appeals to man; and if man refuse to listen to this appeal, then the same love has " wrath that can relent no more." The voice that promised eternal bliss has also threatened eternal woe ; that warning may not be neglected; God's truth and justice may not be sacri ficed. If it were, " Where is then the stay of contrite hearts ? Of old they lean'd on Tby eternal word, But with tbe sinner's fear their hope departs, Fast link'd as Tby great Name to Thee, O Lord." As we shall see throughout his life, no false tender ness can keep back the stern fide of the Gospel ; and though it is perhaps an accident, it is not an insignifi cant accident that the last word of the completed volume is a word of fear — " And ob, wben worn and tired they sigh With that more fearful war within, Wben Passion's storms are loud and high, And brooding o'er remembered sin Tbe heart dies down — 0 mightiest then, Come ever true, come ever near, And wake their slumbering love again, Spirit of God's most boly Fear ! * Yet with all its sternness, the one really descriptive epithet of the book is "soothing." Its object was to illustrate " the soothing tendency of the Prayer-book." "I woo the soothing art" was the writer's professed aim ; it speaks of the " soothing " power of Nature ; of THE CHRISTIAN YEAR. 71 the " soothing charm " of the Holy Communion service ; of the awful " soothing " calm which alights on mourners. " It was the most soothing, tranquillizing, subduing work of the day ; if poems can be found to enliven in dejection, and to comfort in anxiety, to cool the over- sanguine, to refresh the weary, and to awe the worldly ; to instil resignation into the impatient and calmness into the fearful and agitated — they are these." 1 Its most permanent value lies in this power to soothe ; but perhaps at the time its power to stir was of even greater weight. In it will be found nearly all the truths and the tone which came to the front in Tractarianism. Dean Church has said that the Oxford Movement had two great sides, the one theological, the other resolutely practical. Theologically it forced an answer to the questions — " What is the Church ? Is it a reality, or a mode of speech ? On what grounds does it rest ? How may it be known ? Is it among us ? How is it to be discriminated from its rivals or counter feits ? What is its essential constitution ? What does it teach ? What are its shortcomings ? Does it need reform ? " On the other hand, its ethical tendency was shown in its increased care for the Gospels and study of them ; and in the increased sense of the necessity of self-discipline. " Seriousness, reverence, the fear of insincere words and unsound professions, were essential in the character which alone it would tolerate in those who made common cause with it." Both these sides are characteristic of the Christian Year, written before the movement and confessedly contributing to it. The detailed questions about the Church are indeed absent ; its notes, its relation to 1 J. H. Newman : Essays, ii., p. 441., 72 JOHN KEBLE. other bodies — these were forced to the front in later days ; but every reader must have been brought face to face with the question of its reality and of its claims upon his own life; he must have been drawn closer to the Gespels, and braced to self-discipline and the pursuit of holiness. The poems awe and stir and soothe alike, because they are so real; they have so vivid a sense of the spiritual world, with all its terrors as well as its beauty and grace. He is the prophet of the fear of God no less than the poet of His love. For the success of the Christian lyrist it is " essential that what he sets before us must be true in substance, and in manner marked by a noble simplicity and confidence in that truth, by a sincere attachment to it and entire^ familiarity with it." 2 That was his own ideal, and one who knew him well has said, " If there is one quality which more than any other may- be said to mark jhis writings, it is their intense and absolute veracity. Never for a moment is the very truth sacrificed to effect. I will venture to say with confidence that there is not a sentiment to be found elevated or amplified beyond what he really felt, nor, I would add, even an epithet that goes beyond his actual and true thought. What he was in life and character, that he was transparently in every line he wrote — entirely, always, reverentially true." 2 The result upon others is best summed up in the words of Hurrell Froude : " Your poems are the best helps to conceiving that we really are the people for whom such great and wonderful things have been done," 8 and the secret of this in the words of Dr. Pusey : 1 Occasional Papers and Reviews, p. 91. 2 Bp. Moberley : Preface to Miscellaneous Poems, p. xvii. 3 Remains, i., p. 210, THE CHRISTIAN YEAR. 73 " It taught, because his own soul was moved so deeply ; the stream burst forth, because the heart which poured it out was full; it was fresh, deep, tender, loving, because himself was such ; it disclosed to souls secrets which they knew not, but could not fail to own when knownj because he was so true and thought aloud ; and conscience everywhere responded to the voice of conscience." 1 1 Sermon at Keble College, 1876, p. 26. CHAPTER IV. the struggle. 1833 — 1841. " What if to tbe trumpet's sound- Voices few come answering round? Scarce a votary swell tbe burst Wben tbe anthem peals at first ? God batb sown and He will reap. Growth is slow wben roots are deep." J. K. : Lyra Apostoliaa, clxviii. We must turn back from poetry to the prose and struggle of life, or shall we say from Lyric Pastoral to Tragedy ? While Keble was thus working at his lectures, Fortune seemed to be turning mnre and more against the Church. The Reform Bill had flushed the demo cratic spirit ; everything was to be brought under the control of the people and tested by a narrow, utilitarian standard. The Church ceuld be no exception to this; and as Convocation had been virtually suppressed, she had no voice by which to speak, and the State pro ceeded to set her in order through a Parliament which was no longer essentially a Parliament of Churchmen. But " when the tale of bricks is doubled, Moses is at hand." The spirit of Churchmanship was rising in rebellion against this treatment in many quarters. In 1814, Bishop Jebb. of Limerick had foretold such a THE STRUGGLE. 75 crisis, and the way in which it would be met. " Perhaps we may live to see our Dodwells and Hickeses and Colliers divested of the old peculiarities, shorn of some excrescences, and enlarged by a philosophic appre hension of the Scripture. Perhaps, too, a little of persecution, or of somewhat resembling persecution, may be providentially permitted to train up men with an attachment to the Church as a hierarchy, as distinct from the State, and as dignified only by its intrinsic excellence, by its venerable antiquity, and by its apostolical institution." 1 In 1833, as the events drew nearer, an even more detailed prophecy is to be found in the striking words of one of the old-fashioned High Church leaders, Mr. Sikes, of Guilsborough. Noticing that the great want in the teaching of the time was that no account was taken of the Holy Catholic Church, he foretold that the neglect of so important an article of the Faith must have its reprisals. " When it is brought forward it will swallow up the rest. . . . Our present confusion is chiefly owing to the want of it, and there will be yet more confusion attending its revival. The effects of it I even dread to contemplate, especially if it comes suddenly, and woe betide those, whoever they are, who shall in the course of Providence have to bring it forward. . . . They will be endlessly misunderstood and misinterpreted. There will be one great outcry of Popery from one end of the country to the other. It will be thrust upon minds unprepared and upon an uncatechized Church. Some will take it up as a beautiful theory unrealized ; others will be frightened and scandalized and reject it, and all will want a guidance which one hardly knows where they 1 Quoted in Perry: Student's English.Chv,rchHistoi-y)m.,'p. 180. 76 JOHN KEBLE. shall find. . . . How the doctrine may be first thrown forward we know not, but the powers of the world may any day turn their backs upon us, and this probably will lead to those effects I have described." 1 This is exactly what was happening ; the powers of the world were turning their backs upon the Church; but its champions were being prepared. In London an active body of Churchmen, with Joshua Watson as their centre, had done and were doing much to carry Church principles into active work. The National Society had been founded in 1811; the Christian Knowledge Society had been reorganized ; King's College had been founded in 1829 ; the bishoprics of Calcutta (1814), Jamaica, and Barbadoes (1824) had been founded and endowed by the State. At Cambridge, Hugh James Rose, " the most accomplished divine and teacher in the English Church,"2 was, as Christian Advocate in the University pulpit, and, after 1832, as editor of the British Magazine, bidding " us, when hearts were failing, stir up the gift that was in us, and betake ourselves to our own true mother.'' 3 But it is with Oxford that we are primarily con cerned. There Oriel had become the centre of Church manship. Newman had entirely emancipated himself from Whateley's influence, and had accepted Keble's principles. This had been Froude's doing, and he boasts of it as the one good work of his life, that he had brought Keble and Newman to understand each other; and 1 From a conversation with Rev. W. J. Copeland, preserved in Mr. Copeland's handwriting in bis copy of Sikes' Parochial Com munion, and printed in J. H. Newman's Letters and Correspond ence, ii., Appendix, p. 483. 8 R. W. Church, The Oxford Movement, p. 86. 3 J. H. N. : Dedication to Parochial Sermons, vol. iv. THE STRUGGLE. 77 Keble was the link between Newman and his Fairford and Bisley friends. In 1831 he had invited Newman to Fairford with the words, " I want some of your criticism, for somehow I can't get it out of my head that you are a real honest man" ; in 1832 he wrote : " My brother wants to see you, and I want you to see him." Isaac Williams, who had been curate to T. Keble at Bisley, was now curate to Newman at St. Mary's, and formed another link with the older Church man. Dr. Pusey also was drawing closer to Newman and his friends, though he had not yet definitely com mitted himself to them. In this group Newman was coming clearly to the front as leader in Oxford ; for since 1830 he had ceased to be tutor, and only held the Vicarage of St. Mary's, a post which gave him leisure for study, and made him known as a preacher ; one writer has even traced the start of the movement to his sermon on " Personal Influence the means of Pro pagating Truth," preached in 1832.1 Finally, his Mediterranean holiday with Froude in the winter of the same year enabled them both to stand by for a while, to look at the conditions of the struggle on which they were entering from the outside, to take its measure, and to prepare their weapons, while the recovery from his serious illness in Sicily seemed to Newman a Divine sanction to the inner conviction that he had a work to do for the Church. But Newman, as well as the others, still looked to Keble as " the true and primary author " of the move ment;2 he writes of himself that while lying on his sick-bed at Syracuse, " I began to think of all my 1 The Times : Obituary Notice, August 12, 1890. 2 Apologia, p. 75. 78 JOHN KEBLE. professed principles, and felt that they were -mere in tellectual deductions from, one or two admitted truths. I compared myself with Keble, and felt that I was merely developing his, not my, convictions." x While on the journey he had written : " We are in good spirits about the prospects of the Church. We find Keble is at length roused, and (if once up) he will prove a second Ambrose." 2 As a matter of fact, the signal for concerted action did come from Keble. In spring of 1833, the difficulty of collecting tithes in Ireland induced the Government to propose a bill abolishing the Church cess, one of the most obnoxious forms of payment, and in order to raise money to meet the deficiency so produced it was proposed to suppress ten Irish bishoprics and appropriate their revenues for the purpose. Bishop Blomfield supported the bill, but Archbishop Howley opposed it, and to the mass of bishops and clergy if seemed an act of spoliation. The grievance was that " bishopricks may be suppressed to any extent by the sovereign at the request of a body of laymen, any number of whom may be heretics, con trary to the express protest of the Episcopal body." 3 The time had come when it seemed to Keble that "scoundrels must be called scoundrels." The spirit which stirred him found vent once more in poetry — in the poems of the Lyra Apostolica — how different from those of the Christian Year ! Rugged, austere, wanting the old melody, yet with a ring of the battle trumpet through them, they breathe defiance " . . . . against the ruffian band, Come to reform where ne'er tbey came to pray." 1 Letters, i., p. 416. 2 Ibid., p. 377. 3 J. K. : The State in its Relations to the CJiurch, p. 42. THE STRUGGLE. 79 Jeremiah is the model; Nadab and Abihu, Korah, Dathan, and Abiram, the messengers of Ahaziah, the fall of Tyre, the fall of Babylon, these are the themes. When the Irish Church Bill was brought in he wrote — " . . . . then welcome whirlwind, anger, woe, Welcome the flash that wakes tbe slumbering fold Tb' Almighty Pastor's arm and eye to know, And turn their dreamy talk to holy Fear's stern glow." While the bill was still under discussion, an opportunity for speaking out presented itself, he being nominated to preach the Assize Sermon before the University on July 14th. Taking for his text the words of Samuel, when the people rejected him and demanded a king : " As for me, God forbid that I should sin against the Lord in ceasing to pray for you : but I will teach you the good and the right way " (1 Sam. xii. 23), he cautiously yet clearly applied the scene to modern times. It was possible that a Christian state might in the same way repudiate its duty to God ; it might wish " to be as the heathen," like the nations around it ; perhaps external danger or grievances in the government of the Church might be the pretext, but the real reason would be decay of faith. Much was pointing to such a danger : the tendency to a shallow indifferentism, as though one form of opinion was as good as another ; the unwillingness to submit to religious restraints ; the disrespect towards the successors of the Apostles — all tended one way, and might issue in apostasy. What then would be the duty of Churchmen at such a moment ? It would be to imitate Samuel, whose combination of sweetness with firmness, of consideration with energy, constituted the temper of a perfect public man. Their 80 JOHN KEBLE. first duty would be intercession, which would secure candour, respectfulness, guarded language in their deal ing with their opponents, and also hopefulness in their cause. Then there must be remonstrance, calm, distinct, persevering ; also loyal patriotic submission to the State within its own sphere ; and above all, each Churchman would need to be careful of his own spiritual life, of the daily duties pf piety, purity, charity, justice, lest his behaviour should disparage the name of his Church, or lest public concerns should prove ruinous to himself, by occupying all his care and thoughts to the under valuing of ordinary duties, more especially those of a devotional kind. With such precautions, however, it was impossible to devote oneself too entirely to the cause of the Apostolical Church, and that with a certainty of success in the end. "I have ever considered and kept this day as the start of the religious movement of 1833," wrote Newman thirty-one years afterwards.1 Within the following week the bill was passed, whereupon Keble published the sermon under the title National Apostasy, with a preface dated July 22nd, calling on Churchmen to consider what was their duty in the face of this usurpation by the State ; for if they were to submit to such profane intrusion, they must at least record their full conviction that it was intrusion. The result was immediate com bination and action. Froude, who had returned to Oxford before Newman, had secured the co-operation of Isaac Williams and William Palmer, Fellow of Worcester College, a learned Irishman, whose work on Origines Liturgicce, and whose papers on Dissent in the British Magazine had shown his Church sympathies. 1 Apologia, p. 100. THE STRUGGLE. 81 Even before the sermon was preached Rose had sum moned a few friends to meet at his parsonage at Had- leigh, and the meeting took place from July 25th to 29th. Palmer, Froude, and the Hon. A. P. Perceval — he, too, a pupil of Keble in former times — were present ; but Keble was prevented by home ties from coming, and Newman also was absent. The meeting did not produce any immediate results, but the friends were practically agreed in their prin ciples. Feeling that it was necessary to make Church men realize the essential bonds of Churchmanship, as opposed to the artificial and temporary dependence upon the State, they aimed at asserting the reality of the Church as a spiritual body perpetuated by the Apostolical Succession, and conveying life through its Sacraments — this as against the individualism of the Evangelicals and the Erastianism of politicians ; the authoritative dogmatic character of its formula? — this as against the liberalism of Whateley and Arnold and Hampden : and more subordinate^ its independence of Rome. But in all this there was no thpught of innnvation; the one conception was that they were reviving neglected truth and '' principles of action which had been in the minds of our predecessors of the seven teenth century." " Stir up the gift of God that is in you," was their motto. Long lists of previous writers were soon added to the Tracts as more or less upholding or elucidating the doctrines found in them. Of Keble himself it has been said that the highest praise which he seemed able to give to any theological statement was, " It seems to me just what my father taught me." l The conferences were continued in Oxford, and 1 His pseudonym in tbe British Magazine was pioovtoXoyos. G 82 JOHN KEBLE. had two main results. Palmer and Perceval formed a more conservative group. They aimed first at form ing a great association of Churchmen, and an appeal on which such might be ' based was put forth, but this proposal came to nothing. Instead of it an address to the Archbishop, thanking him for the firmness and discretion which he had shown, and assuring him of their devoted adherence to the Apostolical Doctrine and Polity of the Church,, was signed by more than 7000 clergy, and presented in February, 1834. A similar lay address was promoted by Joshua Watson in London, and received the signatures of 230,000 heads of families, and was presented to the Archbishop in May. The more uncompromising Oriel group led by Keble, Froude, and Newman were quite in sympathy with these addresses, Keble characteristically pleading that poor people might be allowed to sign or put their mark, and he formed one of the deputation to Lambeth. But this group were not content with mere addresses ; they were rather afraid of associations; they were anxious for writing, and anxious that each writer should be unchecked by any committee. The following basis of action was ultimately agreed upon : considering that the only way of salvation is the partaking of the Body and Blood of our sacrificed Redeemer, that the means of this is the holy Sacrament of His Supper, and the security for the due application of this is the Apostolical commission, and that there is peculiar danger of this ' being slighted and disavowed, " we pledge ourselves one to another, reserving our canonical obedience, to be on our watch for all opportunities of inculcating a due sense of this inestimable privilege; to provide and THE STRUGGLE. 83 circulate books and tracts to familiarize the imagin ations of men with the idea ; to attempt to revive among Churchmen the practice of daily common prayer, and more frequent participation of the Lord's Supper; to resist any attempt to alter the Liturgy on any in sufficient authority, and to explain any points in discip line or worship which might be liable to be misunder stood." The form of this agreement was due to Keble, and the result was the publication of the Tracts. These were short papers — price Id. or 2d. — dealing with points of spiritual life or doctrine, attempts to force the world to realize what the Church meant. No less than forty- six were issued in the course of 1833-34, in addition to eighteen short extracts from Patristic writers. Rose took no part in them at all ; Palmer partly contributed to one; Froude was out of England nearly the whole year. They were all published anonymously, except that Dr. Pusey insisted on attaching his initials to his tract on Fasting — a fact from which perhaps the name of Puseyite grew to be attached to the party. Perceval, J. Keble, T. Keble, J. W. Bowden also contributed, but nearly a third of the first volume was from New man himself. To the second volume, which appeared in November 1835, Keble contributed four tracts (Nos. 52, 54, 57, 60), and as these are closely connected in thought with those in the first volume, and quite different from his only other contribution (No. 89), it will be well to deal with all his earlier tracts at once. The keynote of these is given in the title of No. 4, " Adherence to the Apostolical Succession the safest Course." The clergy are urged to take a higher view of their privilege as Christ's ordained ministers, whose duty it is to convey the blessings of the Holy Feast. 84 JOHN KEBLE. v What if the doctrine is not absolutely certain ? it is at least probable ; there are sufficient indications in the New Testament that it was Christ's will, and that is sufficient for loyal followers who are content to be guided by the " Lord's eye," without definite command. No. 13 stands apart by itself: it is a plea against any change in the lectionary, based upon a subtle but rather over-strained attempt to trace the principle which originally guided the selection of Lessons. It is in teresting as showing his great knowledge of the underlying principles of the Old Testament; and is one of the earliest expressions of his favourite principle that God's dealing with Israel as a nation was a type of His dealing with Christians as individuals ; but the changes in the lectionary have deprived it of present interest for us. No. 40 is a bright, interesting dialogue on the importance of Holy Baptism, and the duty of Churchmen in avoiding marriage with Dis senters. In No. 52 he returns to the importance of the Apostolic Ministry as conveying the reality of the Eucharist ; in No. 54 the Ministry is shown in a clear historical statement to have been the guarantee of Apostolical Doctrine in the second and third centuries ; while No. 57 is an historical argument to prove the converse of the last, that those Churches which have surrendered the Apostolic Ministry — whether in ancient or in modern times — have also failed to hold Apostolic doctrine; even the Roman Church, which has minimized the doctine of Apostolical succession in order to exalt the Papacy, having suffered in this way. No. 62 is a more general argument, illustrated by historical instances, that mere personal devotion is inadequate for the Christian life, apart from true THE STRUGGLE. 85 doctrine : the only safe way is to take God's will exactly as we find it declared to us in His Word, as interpreted by His Church. All these tracts are written freshly and vigorously, with happy and sometimes humorous illustrations. They show a great knowledge of the Bible, and love of its mystical interpretation. The writer has a deep sense of the corruption of human nature ; for instance, the very repugnance which people feel to the warnings of the Athanasian Creed or of certain chapters of the Bible is to him only a proof of how much they are needed. For the same reason he dwells upon the need of caution and reserve in communicating religious truth, and upon the importance of considering truth from many sides ; because the intellect alone can not attain to it ; the feeling and temper of mind must be right ; and we must be humble enough to be content with probability. Perhaps the characteristic note of these Tracts is " safety " ; it is the safest course to adhere to the Apostolical Succession; it is a word that will recur again and again in his writings, notably in his argument about the Roman Church ; and it is a word which jars upon us at first, for it seems to speak of a cold calculating prudence. But this would do Keble a great injustice, for by a safe course he means that which is most likely to satisfy all sides of our nature, and to make surest response to the obligations • which we owe to others. Safety is that which secures piety and reverence. It had been the safest course for him to withdraw from the contest for the Pro vostship of Oriel and to stay at home with his father and sister, and if now he urges a belief in the Apostolical Succession as the safest course, he means 86 JOHN KEBLE. the course which is most likely to make the most demands upon men's faith and life. The year 1835 was the most eventful in Keble's private life. On January 24th his father died in his ninetieth year, and the home at Fairford was broken up, his sister retiring to Bisley, and he himself coming to Oxford for a while to work at his edition of Hooker. But in the summer the vicarage of Hursley again became vacant, and it was offered to him at once by Sir W. Heathcote, and gladly accepted by him. This added much to his work, as it was a large scattered parish, being conjoined with Otterbourne and Ampfield ; but while he was there much was done to relieve the vicar. Mainly at his own expense a new church and parsonage-house were erected at Otterbourne ; the same was done for Ampfield by Sir W. Heathcote, and both these became separate parishes. But if Hursley added to his work, it also gave him all the peace and rest of a fixed home ; for before moving into it he married a lady — the younger sister of Mrs. Thomas Keble — who was often indeed an invalid, but through her sweetness and cultured intellect a strength to him, thoroughly able to enter into all his hopes for the Church, and to help him in his work. She was sweet-looking, with beautiful brown eyes and hair, a very delicate complexion like porcelain, and an air of extreme refinement. " My conscience, my memory, and my common sense " is his own description of her, after nearly thirty years of married life. Her very delicacy was in some ways a blessing to him, as it rendered necessary changes of air and scenery, and led to visits to Wales, Scotland, Ireland, the Isle of Man, and Switzerland. Whateley is said to have remarked that Keble was now " a caged eagle " ; it THE STRUGGLE. 87 was no true prophecy, but it is a striking tribute to one side of his character that has often escaped notice, the eager, impetuous, soaring keenness which his strong will was ever holding in check. Other friends, including Newman, with whom celibacy was gaining a religious halo, felt a touch of disappointment ; but to Keble it was rest, soothing, and safety. Hursley also gave him the friendship of Dr. Moberley, who was appointed head-master of Winchester in the same year, and for thirty years he proved Keble's dearest and most trusted friend in the neighbourhood. His Oxford friends soon found that the eagle was not yet caged. Before the end of the year Newman, who saw the need that the Tracts should deal with the Roman claims, pressed Keble to under take the editorship; but his hands were too full of work, and he did not feel himself competent to deal with the subject. In the beginning of 1836, another attempt was made to bring him to Oxford. Dr. Burton, the Regius Professor of Divinity, died; and Keble's name, with those of Newman, Pusey, and others, was submitted to the Prime Minister. Newman wrote at once to press Keble to accept the professor ship, if it should be offered him; and he wrote to Froude to induce him to use his influence for the same end, urging that "Keble is a fight too spiritual and subtle to be seen unless put upon a candlestick." 1 The Archbishop is said to have pressed Keble's appointment, but it was one which could not have been expected from a Liberal Government. But neither was the appointment that was made expected. Lord Melbourne nominated Dr. Hampden; a nomin- 1 Letters, ii., p. 163. 88 JOHN KEBLE. ation which stirred up vehement opposition among Churchmen at Oxford, spreading far beyond the group of Tract writers. Dr. Hampden had preached in 1832 a set of Bampton Lectures embodying the indi vidualistic principles, against which the whole move- ment was directed, and practically undermining Church authority; in 1834 he had published a pamphlet advocating the abolition of subscription to the Thirty-nine Articles, which was required from all who entered the university, his object being to throw it open to Dissenters. A proposal, founded on this, to abolish the subscription had been submitted to Con vocation by the Heads of Houses in May, 1835, and rejected by a majority of five to one. This majority therefore naturally resented the appointment within a few months of the champion of this cause to the chief post of religious teaching in their midst. An attempt to induce the Prime Minister to withdraw the nomination failed, but a proposal to deprive the new Regius Pro fessor of his vote in the nomination of Select Preachers was carried by an enormous majority (474 to 94). Throughout this controversy, though the whole mass of Churchmen were in sympathy, the active workers, who wrote the pamphlets and conducted the campaign, were Newman and Pusey. Keble was in thorough sympathy, but he was too busy to render much active co-operation. During this year, however, he supplied two considerable contributions to the work of the movement, the edition of Hooker and the sermon on Primitive Tradition. The former was published in the spring ; it had been a labour of love, and we may well fancy how Hooker's " resolution to make the best of things as they were, and to censure as rarely and as tenderly as possible what he found THE STRUGGLE. 89 established by authority," had come home to him and deepened the tendencies of his own character. It is a thorough piece of work, and gives proof of the editor's critical insight. The text was collated with the MSS. at Corpus Christi and at Dublin ; it was split up into paragraphs, and accompanied by a running paraphrase ; the allusions to Holy Scripture and the Fathers were verified : the references to Cartwright and other contem porary Puritan writers supplied, and some interesting MS. notes by Hooker himself in answer to early Puritan criticisms on the book were reprinted from the Corpus Christi MS. It is in dealing with the last three books that his critical acumen found scope. Here he dis covered that the sixth book, though by Hooker himself, is not a proper part of the original work, but had been substituted, whether intentionally or by accident, for a discussion of Lay-Eldership, which is now lost. The genuineness of the seventh book was established, though it was shown to be imperfect. From the eighth book one whole section was excluded, as being an extraneous sermon inserted by mistake, and two sermons on St. Jude were rejected, as being far removed from "the sedate majesty which reigns in all Hooker's known compositions." But further, though it always went to his heart to criticize the great and good man,1 the Preface prefixed to the edition shows a masterly power of rising above Hooker's position, and seeing at once its strength and its limitations. The two points which he examines fully are Hooker's conceptions of Church authority and of the relation of the Church to the State. At the time of the Reformation there were three rival views : 1 Spiritual Letters, cxxi. 90 JOHN KEBLE. the Papal, centring all authority in the Pope, and making the civil government the instrument to exe cute his decrees ; the Erastian, held by the prerogative lawyers in France and Henry VIII. in England in their desire to strengthen the local governments, and putting Church laws and constitution at the mercy of the civil Government ; and the Presbyterian, a strong ecclesi astical view, placing the authority in the elders of the Church, receiving their commission by positive enact ment of Holy Scripture: this was the view of Calvin and Beza. The Church of England had clearly broken with the first view; Cranmer had inclined to the second, but in the reign of Elizabeth many causes — the reaction against Queen Mary, the sympathy with the Protestants abroad and in Scotland, the patriotic resentment against the bull of Pope Pius— all were tending to strengthen the Presbyterian view. In order to meet it, Jewel, Whitgift, and others held that the authority centred in the Church, which had for practical convenience centred it in the Bishops; they only pleaded that Episcopacy was ancient and allowable ; but as the fear of Rome grew less strong and the Church felt its own ground firmer" under it, Bancroft, Saravia, Sutcliffe, the author of the Querimonia Ecclesioe, and Bishop Bilson had taken up the wiser and bolder position, that Episcopal authority rested on Divine appointment. Hooker, although the bias of his education had been Presbyterian, practically joined this side, using the strongest language to assert that " the first institution of bishops was from heaven, was even of God " ; yet the exigencies of his time compelled him to make qualifications which were seen to be impossible after the fuller vindication of the Ignatian THE STRUGGLE. 91 epistles by Archbishop Ussher, and which would not have been admitted by Laud ; for he allowed of non- Episcopal ordination in cases of a supernatural call, or in the absence of "a bishop. So again he identified Church and State too absolutely, giving the monarch the power of dominion over the bishops, with power to overrule them in matters of jurisdiction and legis lation as well as in nomination to offices. This could be only tolerable when the monarch was a Christian, exerting his sovereignty through a Christian Parlia ment ; yet, even so, the theory had proved inadequate, and made the Church a slave to the civil power. With a Parliament not Christian the theory was impossible. The true theory is that of a co-ordinate authority of Church and State, somewhat on the analogy of the co-ordinate authority of the Sovereign and the Houses of Parliament. "If their veto on acts of civil legis lation did not impeach the King's temporal sovereignty, why should the Church's veto impeach the same sovereignty in case a way should be found to giving her a power over any proposed act of ecclesiastical legislation ? " 1 (p. lxxx). He wrote to Froude — " I am more and more satisfied that Richard was in most things a middle term between Laud and Cranmer, but 1 Tbe fullest statement of Keble's views on Cburcb and State is in bis review (Britwh Critic, Oct. 1839) of Mr. Gladstone's treatise, The State in relation to the Church. He insists on tbe essential distinctiveness and superiority of the Church ; on the duty of the State to guard ber interests as " a nursing father " ; but at tbe same time to impose no terms which will imply sacrifice of principle by the Church. There is danger that the Reformation settlement, as worked by a Parliament not confined to Churchmen, may impose such terms, and therefore it is essential that tbe Church should be allowed free exercise of moral discipline over ber members, a voice in tbe appointment of bishops, and a legislative power in ber own internal concerns. 92 JOHN KEBLE. nearer the former ; and also that he was in a transition state when he was taken from us, and there is no saying how much nearer he might have got to Laud, if he had lived twenty years longer." Yet with all these limitations, Hooker — with his reverent treatment of the deepest doctrines, his faith in the reality of Sacramental grace, his sense of the quasi-sacramental value of all Church usages, his treatment of fast and festival and of Church property as all being expressions of man's sacrifice to God — seemed to him God's chief instrument for saving the Church from Rationalism in the sixteenth century ; and " bold must he be who should affirm that, great as was then her need of a defender, it at all exceeded her peril from the same quarter at the present moment. Should these volumes prove at all instrumental in awakening any of her children to a sense of that danger, and in directing their attention to the primitive Apostolical Church as the ark of refuge divinely appointed for the faithful, such an effect will amply repay the editor " l (p. cviii). The suggestion of this part of the Preface was due to Newman, and we find Bowden writing to the latter on June 30, 1836 — " Keble's Preface is most glorious." In the autumn of the same year, Keble was nominated to preach the sermon at the Archdeacon's Visitation in Winchester Cathedral, and took the occasion to deliver his " masterly exposition of the meaning of Tradition." 2 He begins with a statement of the perplexity of the time : this, it is interesting to note, he regards as spread over the last seven years, i. e. he dates it from the Roman Catholic Emancipation 1 J. H. N., Letters, ii., p. 198. 2 K. W. Church, The Oxford Movement, p. 246. THE STRUGGLE. 93 Act of 1829 ; during that time the foundations of the Church have been laid bare ; the defenders of the Church have been obliged to consider the limits of the civil power in ecclesiastical matters, the vindication of the Anglican Church against the exorbitant claims of Rome, and the reconciliation of voluntary combination of Churchmen with due loyalty to episcopal prerogative. It is impossible to stand aside and avoid responsibility any longer. Now one guide in this perplexity is Tradition, not as overriding the sole and paramount claim of Holy Scripture as a rule of Faith, but as supplementing it. Such Tradition has its analogy in unwritten civil law ; its existence is recognized in Scripture, itself, and was constantly appealed to in the early centuries ; it served even as a test for Apostolical writings until the Canon was formed, which in its turn served as a check upon Tradition. To it we owe the systematic arrangement of the Articles of the Faith in the Creed, the preservation of the typical method of the interpretation of Scripture, and many practical points of Church discipline, such as the observance of Sunday, the method of consecrating the Eucharist, &c. The security that we still possess the Tradition is guaranteed by the Apostolical Succession. We cannot afford as loyal churchmen to neglect this aid. Of the two tests, Tradition and Holy Scripture, either suffers if the other is neglected ; and in our present day we need to be guarded against the desire for novelty, against the danger of an empty Nominalism, which resolves the mysteries of the faith into mere externals and methods of speech with no real counterpart in the nature of things ; and against Erastianism, > which would surrender ecclesiastical government to the State. 94 JOHN KEBLE. The sermon met with a good deal of criticism, to which Keble replied in an elaborate postscript, showing the hearty recognition of Tradition in Anglican writers, and elaborating at great detail the part which Tradition had borne in the formulation of the Nicene Creed. During the same year Pusey, Newman, and Keble as joint editors started the Library of the Fathers; the proposal was welcomed by the Archbishop, who pressed the advisability of translating whole treatises instead of mere selections, and the series was dedicated to him. To this Keble contributed a translation of St. Irenaeus, a work on which he was engaged from this time onwards, though it was not published till after his death ; he also did much work as editor, revising the translations of some of the volumes of St. Augustine and St. Chrysostom. In the spring of 1837, Pusey writes, asking — " What are you doing, our father in the faith, perhaps New man's elder brother only now ? " The answer is that he was working at his translation, and was with Newman preparing Froude's Remains for publication. Froude had died in 1836, and it had been like the loss of a younger brother to Keble. Both he and Newman were conscious how much they had owed to Froude, and when they came to examine his journal, and understood, as never before, the strength and severity of his self-discipline, as well as the logical boldness with which he faced the results of the movement, they determined that the world should know what he had been, and decided to publish extracts from his journal and correspondence as well as his fragmentary writings. It was a bold step, for Froude was fearlessly out-spoken in his attacks on Rationalism and on the Reformers, THE STRUGGLE. 95 and the book was sure to swell the cry of Popery against the Tractarians. They determined, however, to face the cry, and the first two volumes appeared in 1838, with a joint preface, in which Keble justified the publication of matter so private, and Newman showed that Froude could not be legitimately charged with Romanism, in the sense of preferring the actual system of the Church of Rome to the English Church, because he had been equally outspoken in denunciation of that Church. At the same time they boldly claim that ministers of the Established Church owe no sort of allegiance to any enactments by which the State has fettered her freedom of action, but at the outside only such a literal acquiescence as the law requires. "Their loyalty is already engaged to the Church Catholic, and they cannot enter into the drift and intentions of her oppressors without betraying her. For example, they cannot do more than submit to the statute of Prae munire ; they cannot defend or concur in the present suspension, in every form, of the Church's synodal powers and her power of excommunication; nor can they sympathize in the provision which hinders their celebrating five out of the daily services which are their patrimony equally with Romanists." 1 The outcry raised against the book was bitter and loud ; to Dr. Arnold the predominant character of the volume seemed to be extraordinary impudence in its language about the Reformers. But the editors were not daunted. Two further volumes were published in 1839, with a preface almost entirely due to Keble, and quite unflinching in statement. He recalls the tone of Church feeling a few years before; he 1 Preface, p. xv. 96 JOHN KEBLE. shows how Froude's sagacity had anticipated all the improvements which had occurred since then; only in some such startling way was it possible to make a protest heard. All that Froude had done was to carry out uncompromisingly, in points both of doctrine and feeling, the appeal to antiquity ; that appeal was the only ground on which the English Church could maintain its existence against Rome, and therefore he was quite justified in denouncing all that was inconsist ent with it in the dominant tone of theelogical thought. Further, the same principle justified him in denouncing any rationalistic or irreverent or Erastian temper in the Reformers ; no douVAnatural piety and gratitude for our debt to the Reforj|Btion would make us wish not to find fault with thenf \ but this was impossible ; they were not as a party to be trusted on ecclesiastical and theological questions.! The true plan was to emphasize the fact that the Chprch was not to be identified with the Reformers, and tlo claim the right and duty of taking her formulas an we/find them, and interpreting them as, God be thankef^they may be always interpreted in all essentials, .yrformably to the doctrine and ritual of the Church Universal. Providence has wonderfully over-ruled the Reformation from expressly contradicting antiquity, so that, " as a mark of decay and deserved anger, our Church seems to have been left an inade quate image of antiquity ; as a token to encourage hope and penitence and labour, it was not, however, an untrue image." Thus, whatever they may think of the Reformers, people need not be driven to Rome ; there is the ancient Church waiting to receive them, and the Prayer-book and Anglican Divines of the seventeenth century ready to cover their retreat. This condemna- THE STRUGGLE. 97 tion of the Reformers was clinched by a catena of quotations from the works of Bishop Jewel, to show the low doctrine which he held on points such as the Apostolical Succession and Sacramental Grace. Such language naturally did little to allay any feeling of bitterness; but before we dwell on the effect pro duced, it may be well to mention two other works on which Keble was engaged. In May 1839, he published anonymously his translation of tlie Psalter. He himself confesses that it was really impossible to represent the Hebrew rhythm by metres, but as metrical versions of the Psalms were in use, and as he was impressed with the want of reverence of Tate and Brady's version, he made an attempt to represent them as faithfully as possible, each Hebrew clause being represented by one line, and the metre varied, even within the same Psalm. No attempt was made to express a -Christian meaning, that he might be true to the working of God's Holy Spirit, accustomed "to keep himself to the generality under a veil of reserve, through which the eyes of men might see just so much and so clearly as they were purged by Faith and Purity and Obedience." The whole work was revised by Dr. Pusey, and consequently it is valuable as a commentary upon the original. Dr. Cheyne, in the Preface to his own translation of the Book of Psalms, speaks of Keble's too little known metrical version as the production of a poetical student, and acknowledges his indebtedness to it now and again for a felicitous phrase. Keble had hoped that the Bishops of Winchester and Oxford would formally license it for use ; but though the latter accepted the dedication of the book, neither was willing to do this ; and, in truth, it is little fitted for congre- H 98 JOHN KEBLE. gational worship, the attempt to be literal having hampered his freedom too much. At the same time he had been interested in tracing out the Patristic method of the mystical interpretation of Holy Scripture. On his visits to Oxford as Professor, he had read more than one paper on it at the gather ings for theological study, which Dr. Pusey had insti tuted at his own house. These were thrown together in a completed form, and appeared in 1841 as Tract No. 89. It extends to nearly two hundred pages — so completely had Dr. Pusey's influence altered the character of the tracts and converted them into treatises — and even so is unfinished. He proposes at the outset to deal with four points, with regard to which the vague and ambiguous charge of mysticism was urged to discredit the Fathers, viz. their figurative interpretation of Holy Scripture, their fanciful application of Nature to spiritual realities, their readiness to see1 providential interferences in the events of history, and their counsels of perfection in favour of a monastic and contemplative life ; but it is only with the first two of these that the Tract deals. After a large catena of illustrations of this mystical interpretation it is urged that this method has the sanction of the New Testament, that it cannot be exactly formulated or regulated, but is the result of a happy sagacity inwrought into the thoughts and language of the Church, and independent of critical questions. Yet it was never put forward as the ex clusive meaning ; it was never allowed to evacuate the literal truth, nor did it interfere with moral judgments upon acts of doubtful character. In dealing with such points the Fathers, while they always upheld the doctrine of a permanent standard of morality, yet were THE STRUGGLE. 99 doubtless far more lenient in judgment than modern writers, and far less willing to condemn any of the saints of the Old Testament. They were content to point to a Divine command without justifying it, or simply to see the typical value in the action ; suggest ing excuses and shrinking from censure if possible. Such leniency of judgment was due to two principles ; on the one hand it sprang from a deep sense of the communion of saints ; they felt a real bond of union with the Old Testament saints, their fathers in faith, in a sense their brethren in grace ; and a natural piety made them shrink from criticizing : they would rather pass no judgment than a verdict of guilty upon mem bers of their own family. On the other hand, they had also a deep and reverential sense of God's peculiar presence in Jewish history. The whole Jewish king dom was to them " a great prophet, because he is great who was the subject of their prophecy," 1 and so they had a trembling consciousness that they were near the invisible line which separates God's agency from that of His rational creatures, and such a thought will make a religious man slow to censure, lest he may be found blaming his Maker's work unawares. The similar mystical treatment of the New Testa ment is shown to rest upon a belief in the Divinity of the Lord ; " the words ' and doings of our Blessed Saviour, being, as they are, the words and doings of God, it cannot be but they must mean far more than meets the ear or the eye, they cannot but be full charged with heavenly and mysterious meaning." Finally, in dealing with Nature, it is shown that the 1 S. Aug. c. Faustum xx. 24 ; totum illud regnum gentis Hebrseorum magnum quemdain, quia et magni cujusdam, fuisse prophetam. 100 JOHN KEBLE. Fathers discourage the mere scientific study of it; they are always piercing through to a mystical sense. This is analogous to the poet's use of illustrations from Nature ; but it runs deeper than this, and it is so common that it cannot be traced to any one Father's influence. It is the poetry of the Lord Himself, " a set of holy and divine associations and meanings wherewith it is His will to invest material things " ; the works of God are so many visible words, tokens from the Almighty to assure us of some spiritual fact or other, which it concerns us to know; in St. Augustine's words, "All beauty in Thy creatures is but so many beckonings of Thine." 1 Sun, moon, stars, plants, animals, all are treated as symbols of spiritual realities ; the body of a man is a symbol of his soul, and his soul a type even of God Himself. All are reflections, types, embodiments of Him who is the Reality, the True Light, the True Vine, the True Bread. If our own words seem often full of a deeper meaning than we intended, if the same words produce upon us quite a different effect at different times, it is natural that we should be constantly able to find new meanings in Divine language, and that it should speak a different language to those whose hearts are prepared to receive it. Such is the general argument, which is worked out with great wealth of illustration. But it was an " inopportune Tract." 2 Why was this ? It was a treatise which at any time would have provoked opposition and would have required a nature of delicate insight and ready sympathy to appreciate its merits. There is no compromise in his attack on the tendencies of modern theology ; he is ready to throw it entirely overboard in 1 De Libera Arbitrio, ii., p. 43 : " Nutus tni sunt omne crealu- rarum decus. 2 R. W. Church, Oxford Movement, pp. 229, 230. THE STRUGGLE. 101 contrast to ancient methods ; while he urges that the taste of modern writers may be imperfect, he forgets that that may be equally true of the ancient. He makes no attempt to screen fanciful uses of the method, but selects the examples most likely to startle and scandalize the modern reader : he goes near to shocking the moral sense by his unwillingness to condemn immoral actions in the Bible ; and throughout the whole there is too great an effort to formulate too exactly a method which is essentially poetical and imaginative. Yet, wben all these deductions have been made, it is a beautiful specimen of the true reverence with which the Bible should be handled, and all who care for poetry or spiritual life will value it highly. For it is a poet's protest against a prosaic age, pleading for the beauty and fullness of life. Material things are treated as not only material, but as able to express the spiritual; words, especially Divine words, are seen to represent realities greater than they are adequate to express : they are not to be narrowed down to a dead level of utilitarian literalism ; they are legitimately capable of the meanings we can find in them, and therefore Origen, with his threefold interpretation, was so far superior to the mere literalist that he had three Bibles to the other's one. It is the protest again of the religious man against excluding God from His world. He is there in material things which are a revelation of Himself. He has been present at every moment of history, so that there are " as many different manifestations of the Word, as many Christs as there are believers." Therefore what He did then has a lasting value for us, and we are one with the saints of old and must look to find God in every detail of our lives. " People little know what they do, when 102 JOHN KEBLE. they deal contemptuously with anything, be it in Scripture or in common life, under the notion that it is too slight, too insignificant for the ordering of the Most High" (p. 22). Lastly, it is a protest of the heart against the intellect, a plea that the pure in heart shall see God, that the love of Him will open our eyes to see deeper meanings in His words. As the lover sees likenesses of his mistress in many a face, and loves them for her sake, so the lover of Christ's Cross will find symbols and anticipations of it in trifling details of the Old Testament, which get a new value for its sake. Such suggestions cannot be tied down to exact details, nor the mystical method restrained by certain limits, but this was part of the charm of it to Keble. To him it seemed " one of the tokens of true theology to acknow ledge doubtfulness and perplexity, more or less, in every subject, for the doubtfulness of many things has this advantage, that it lessens the apparent difference between the scenes of Scripture and common life ; lessens the temptation to forget how near God is with us ; helps us to feel our true condition as full of supernatural Wonders, could we but realize them, as ever was that of the Jews and Patriarchs of old." It would have been difficult for these views to win ready acceptance at any time, most of all in Oxford in the beginning of 1841. A nightingale might as soon have expected to be listened to on a field of battle. Keble might be willing to remain in doubt and per plexity ; others were not : neither friend nor foe were in that frame of mind. For a change had come over the movement in Oxford, to understand which we must go back over the last few years. CHAPTER V. the STRUGGLE (continued). 1841 — 1845. " The second Temple could not reach the first ; And tbe late Reformation never durst Compare witb ancient times and purer years ; But in the Jews and us deservetb tears." — G. Herbert. " aitrjxaviH fpovriSoe