of York. His son-in-law, the Rev. J. Kenrick, M.A., F.S.A. (who died May, 1877, in his ninetieth year), was tutor in classics, history, belles lettres, and German. He had studied at Göttingen and Berlin, as well as at Glasgow, and as a scholar was second to none in the country. All that he wrote was distinguished by "thoroughness of knowledge, with the highest finish of execution." He conferred great benefit on scholars by his translation of Zumpt's Latin Grammar, and by his editions of Matthiæ's Greek Grammar. Among his works may be mentioned "Ancient Egypt under the Pharaohs" (two volumes), "Phoenicia," and a memoir of the Rev. C. Wellbeloved. We were very proud of such a tutor, and those whom he taught felt his moral and intellectual influence. Unfortunately, he was suffering from a complaint in the eyes most of the time that Philip was at York, and his lectures were read to the students by others—in this year by Dr. W. C. Perry, a recent student, who had just returned from Göttingen. With the resident tutor, the Rev. W. Hincks, F.L.S., who lectured on mathematics and philosophy, Philip found a bond of sympathy in his ardent love of natural history; his son, the Rev. T. Hincks, B.A., F.R.S., was one of the senior students when Philip entered, and was his predecessor at Warrington. His successor there, the Rev. J. N. Porter, was also then at York; and so were the Rev. W. Mountford, M.A. (who, in 1850, went to Boston, U.S., where he had obtained a high reputation by his "Martyria," "Euthanasy," etc.), and the Rev. Dr. Vance Smith (one of the committee for revising the translation of the New Testament). There were then sixteen divinity students. Mr. Kenrick wrote to Dr. L. Carpenter, July 14, 1838: "The actual decline and extinction of many of our congregations, the threatened wholesale loss of chapels and endowments by Calvinistic usurpation, make the prospects of students for the ministry more unpromising, and their lot more unattractive than ever. And beside these causes, which make parents destine their sons to other professions, there seems a tendency in Unitarians at present to refine away everything that is tangible and influential in the creed of Unitarians of the old school; so that a young man who hears their statements may well ask himself what sort of a gospel it is of which he is to be the minister, and be at some loss to discern in what some of our preachers differ from German anti-supernaturalists. These are things which we cannot check." : The senior students, with Mr. Hincks, met to hear Dr. Perry translate, from the German, Strauss's celebrated "Life of Christ"; and no doubt many felt at this period of their lives a great uncertainty as to much which they had once taken for granted. Mr. Wellbeloved was imbued with the opinions of his learned predecessor, Rev. N. Cappe he applied many of the prophecies supposed to relate to the last judgment, etc., in the New Testament, simply to the destruction of Jerusalem, and laid more stress on the natural arguments for a future life than the Priestley school. In his abhorrence of dogmatism, he was much addicted to the words "probably " and "perhaps :" he refused in any important matter to bias us by announcing his own opinion; though we used to give special heed when he spoke of any view as "little known and less regarded!" There was no manifestation of earnest religious life, either in the college or in the congregation. The chapel in St. Saviourgate was attended by many who considered that the large endowments relieved them of its support; whilst, except the Sunday services, they did not expect much from their minister. The Sunday school was in a very languid condition, and the students took little interest in it. In after days, Philip deeply regretted the "deadening influences" of his life at York; and yet we shall see that it had its advantages, especially to one who had so much of the quickening spirit. In his first session, Philip was hindered in his studies by inflammation of the eyes, a complaint to which he was then liable. He attended most of the lectures, without being able to work for them. What he wrote to his sister Mary, of the Evidence course, is characteristic: "I am glad to have Natural Religion done with, as it is to me very unsatisfactory in many things. However . . . the methodized references he gives us are very useful: though I cannot read many of them now. C Revealed Religion, which we are now doing, I find more interesting." Some of his fellow-students were ready to read to him; he taught what we called a "gamut club," to practise the scales-for a time he treated himself to a piano; and backgammon often shortened the evenings. The great treat of the year was his Christmas vacation at Leeds. Part of the time he spent with the family of his fellow-student, Mr. Arthur Lupton, junior, whose excellent mother was an enthusiastic teetotaler; and part with the Buckton family, who were very musical, and to one of whom, Mr. George Buckton, who was younger than himself, he felt specially drawn. They retained. their affectionate friendship to the last. He wrote to him on his return: Everything I play, I try to think whether you would like it or not; and every glee the students sing recalls to my mind days-now, alas! past-of sweet singings and flutes and pianos: and (last but not least) people. Excuse sentimentality... I am very happy, very; but of course I could not expect to be so happy as I was in your house, and with my other Leeds friends." 66 The chapel organ was undergoing repairs, and Philip soon made acquaintance with the organ-builder, who invited him to see the Minster organ, which he was "voicing." Of this he sent a full description to his brother William. To Mary he wrote (March, 1838): "My own situation is curiously different from what it was last year. . . . Then I was in the midst of a very large world, with beautiful and romantic scenery, and everything suited to keep me in a state of gentle excitement. Now my ideas are exceedingly confined; there is nothing (leaving the Minster out of the question) to call me out: my acquaintance exceedingly limited, the scenery in general the very acme of straight-road, flat-country stupidity. I feel extremely uninterested about most things: science is buried in oblivion; mollusca * are hardly recovered from their winter torpidity ; Greek, Latin, and Hebrew engage little attention, and altogether I am extremely placid. But the Minster is enough to * When he found how flat the country was, he had comforted himself on learning that it was a particularly favourable place for fresh-water shells. make up for any deficiencies: there the mind can expand as much as it likes, and I would not change it for Edinburgh with its society, university, and scenery. I am too, for the first time, in a set whose views are like my own-a very remarkable situation. . . . The dulness of the country leads us to see beauty and admire, where, in a place like Bristol, we should pass by without anything to notice." He longed "to see a decent Sunday school," and to refresh his spirit in the vacation: this he did, and returned with good heart, though there was much to depress in the condition of the college. Eight senior students (including the writer) had finished their course, and only three juniors entered. It was voted "a very stupid session ;" but he wrote, "I am happy, having so many extraneous things to interest me." He was trying to stir up the congregation to build a room for the Sunday school, and was teaching the children singing; "and there is York's redeeming place' still!" As, in later life, he became an attendant on the Church of England, it is interesting to note how susceptible he was from his youth to its attractions, and how strong must have been the convictions which kept him from its communion. : The following extract from a letter to his father (October 22, 1838) shows not only his feeling for Cathedral music, but his pleasure that others could share it :-"I do not know what made me so stupid yesterday. I think it was going to the Minster, where I was more excited by the music than ever I was before. It was the 'Creation :' the second time of my hearing it. As I was now prepared for everything, I entered into it more fully and yet, though I was prepared, when it came to the burst at 'Let there be light,' I was completely carried away, and a very little more would have made me fall down for I felt exactly as I did after I was bled. However, I made a vigorous effort, and after a time recovered myself. I cannot imagine anything more perfectly sublime than this. Persons talk of a full orchestra, but give me the Minster organ with its pedals. The Chaos was most grand, terrible, and powerful, and here and there most sweet and delightful. Then after the recitative, the beautiful way in which the brooding of the spirit is represented by the sweet subdued tones of the choristers: then the tremendous burst: and afterwards 'The heavens are telling' and to think that all this music is open to all, and that most must be deriving influences of good from it—it is most delightful! Luckily I was by myself: I could not have borne to speak. I cooled myself down, walking about the Minster till all had gone out and every Sunday now brings new effects of light and shadows. The dusky dimness had a very solemn effect, and harmonized well with the anthem; and just as the last note of the voluntary was dying away, the sweet clear tones of the clock slowly thrilled through the aisles: altogether it was too beautiful." Mr. Wellbeloved had mentioned his love of music to the Rev. W. Taylor, the able, humorous, and genial secretary of the Blind School, who had a similar taste: he called on him and invited him to dinner. As at that time the sectarian lines were strictly drawn in Bristol, Philip was much surprised at the sociable way in which he was received by his host and his clerical guests. Among his other friends at York were the late Professor Phillips and his sister. Mr. Phillips, the eminent geologist, and secretary of the British Association, was then curator of the York Museum. 66 One of the great drawbacks at York was the dearth of society. Outside the college, we had scarcely any companions of our own age; but within its walls we were remarkably social. We took an early tea in our own rooms, and often visited each other, our parties breaking up in an hour or so, as evening was our time for study; but when it was a club," we remained till prayers, at nine. These clubs, as we called them, were for debating, Shakespeare-reading, gleesinging, and the College Repository (or "Poz.”). Repository was an old institution, and the early volumes contain a record of college adventures and jokes. In 1832, however, a new series was commenced; the papers were more carefully written, and each member was required to insert a paper, or a shilling, in the censor's box every month, and to The |
