by Protestantism. I desiderate something in the same key

with

""Shall work a wonder there

Earth's charmers never knew,"

and

"When the life-giving stream," etc.1

So much for quarrelling. I have attacked N[ewman] for some of the Tract Protestantism. . . . However, the wiseacres are all agog about our being Papists. P. called us the Papal Protestant Church, in which he proved a double ignorance: as we are Catholics without the Popery, and Church-ofEngland men without the Protestantism. . . . It seems to me that even if the laity were as munificent as our Catholic ancestors, they could do nothing for the Church, as things are, except in their lifetime. Any Churches they might build, any endowment they might make, would be as likely as not to become in another generation propagandas of liberalism. Certainly we cannot trust the Bishops for patrons. don't feel with you on the question of tithes. They cannot be a legal debt and a religious offering at the same time. When the payment began to be enforced by civil authority the desecration took place. . . . The Wesleyan system is voluntary... they are the strongest, and most independent of their congregations, of any existing society in the United States, and, I believe, in England. . . .'

To the Rev. J. H. NEWMAN, March 4, 1835.

...

I

My dearest [Newman], I suppose by this time you will have learned to think as little of my inconsistent reports as I do when making them! I see [that] on one and the same day I must have sent my father a cheerful account, and you a dismal one. I am forced to say something, but have no data to judge by, and so talk at random. Certain indeed I am that my pulse is still progressively calming,

lines in Convocation as against the Real Objective Presence, the poet, then near his end, eagerly effected the change. The ordinary reader may wonder whether a more astounding variant be known to doctrinal statement.

1 Both quotations are from one of the loveliest and tenderest numbers of The Christian Year: that entitled 'Holy Baptism,' stanzas v. and iii.

and that now it is scarcely more irritable than it ought to be; but in nothing else can I be sure that I change at all. . . . Favus distillans labia tua, as someone said to John of Salisbury.1 What can have put it into your head that your style is dull? The letter you sent me in the box was among I have now made up my

the most amusing I ever received. mind to come back [in] the packet after the next, so as to be in England the middle of May, and am not wholly without hope that the voyage may do something for me. The notion of going to Rome with Isaac is very gratifying. I must learn French for it, though; for I have no notion of trusting "Providence," as I did last time. The sun has already got almost to his full strength, though the earth is of course [only] beginning to collect its stock of caloric, and the experience of last year assures me that the less I have of it the better. . . . I am most sincerely sorry to hear of Mr. K[eble's] death.2 I suppose if there ever was anyone to whom death was like going to bed, it would be Mr. K[eble]. I have written lots of stuff since I have been out here, some of which I must inflict on you on my return; but none of it will do to publish. When I look over anything long after I write it, I see such jumps and discontinuities as make me despair of ever being intelligible. How I wish to see you all again!'

Shortly after this letter was sent to post, Hurrell left Barbados for good. No personal records of him exist there, and all memories of him have faded away. His face was set at last towards another island where his few remaining days could be crammed full of intelligent toil, and played at their full value. From Bristol, on May 17, he was able to announce: Fratres desideratissimi! here I am, benedictum sit nomen Dei, and as well as could be expected. I will not boast, and indeed, have nothing to boast of, as my pulse is still far from satisfactory. .

3

1 'Someone' was of course quoting from the Vulgate, the Song of Solomon, iv., II.

2 The Rev. John Keble, Sr., died on Jan. 24, 1835, aged 89.

3 Thus in the Newman Correspondence, ii., 94. In the Remains the reading is

'little to boast of.'

'When we asked our pilot "Who was Speaker?" he did not know; but after much cross-examining he recollected that he had heard it cried about the street that the old one was turned out; who "the other gentleman" was, he could not tell. Our next informant was the Custom House officer, who boarded over night, when we anchored, to see that nothing was taken out of the ship. All he knew was that "there had been a jabbering" about a change of Ministers.1 The day is as dull and gloomy as possible; but after the torrid zone, any English May day is "a sight for sair e'en." . . . I hope to get a sight of you soon. And now goodbye both! also I[saac] and R[ogers], and all that are within reach.'

This is Newman's narrative note, drawn, thirty years after, from his own retentive memory:

'R. H. F. made his appearance in Oxford on Tuesday, May 18. On the morrow occurred the Convocation in the Theatre, when the proposed innovation of a Declaration of Conformity to the Church of England, instead of Subscription to the Articles, was rejected by 459 to 57. It was the last vote he gave. . . . He left Oxford, never to return, on June 4. During this time Bowden was in Oxford; and for the first and last time saw R. H. F.'

Miss Anne Mozley, too, remembered in old age her only sight of Hurrell Froude.

'It happened to [me], passing the coach office, in company with Mrs. Newman, to see Froude as he alighted from the coach which brought him to Oxford, and was being greeted by his friends. He was terribly thin, his countenance dark and wasted, but with a brilliancy of expression and grace of outline which justified all that his friends had said of him. He was in the Theatre next day, entering into all the enthusiasm of the scene, and shouting Non placet with all his friends about him. While he lived at all, he must live his life.'

Frederic Rogers was of the company at Convocation who

1 Froude would not have heard of the famous contest for the Speakership on Feb. 19, 1835, as he left the West Indies in March, or early April. James Abercromby, Esq., of Edinburgh, obtained on that day a majority of ten over Sir Charles Manners Sutton, who thereupon retired in chagrin from public life, and was created Viscount Canterbury.