Church would be a strong argument against the adoption of wild and organic changes in the Church of England, then apparently imminent.

The colleagues with whom I was acting concurred in this view, and I was permitted to draw up an Address to the Primate, to be proposed for signature to the clergy of England. It was a bold undertaking. There had been no instance of a similar movement. The clergy had only acted in their respective dioceses, as petitioners to Parliament, and under the direction of their bishops. We were assuming to elicit from all dioceses an expression of united opinion. Our action was not authorized by the precedents of preceding centuries. There was but one excuse for it-necessity.

We had no means of approaching the bishops. The hierarchy were too far above us to be within the range of our proceedings. Their responsibilities were so great, their official dignity so high, that we could not appeal to them for support. We could only call upon the clergy to bear witness to their faith, and their steadfast adherence to their Church; and we could address them as equals.

In the Address to the Primate of the English Church now put in circulation, after the expression of personal respect and confidence, we noticed the growth of latitudinarianism, and ignorance of the spiritual claims of the Church, as the ground of our voluntary declaration of attachment to the apostolical polity of the Church, and her venerable Liturgy, embodying the primitive and orthodox faith; our depreciation of rash innovations in spiritual matters, but our willingness to co-operate in measures for improvement, on the principle of reviving the ancient discipline, strengthening the unity and promoting the purity and efficiency of the Church. Our object was in fact to support the essential doctrines and principles of the Church, without shutting the door against well and maturely considered improvement.

It became immediately our effort to circulate the Address to the Primate in every part of England, and to procure signatures by the clergy. The Declaration explaining the objects of the association had prepared the way for the hearty acceptance of the Address which was its first result. My colleagues cordially co-operated in the work; and in London and several parts of England their friends, I think, undertook to carry out the plan. Such was the state of the public mind at that time, that we did not attempt to advertise our Address. The work had to be done by private correspondence and individual applications, and explanations had to be given at every town, with replies to hypercritical remarks on particular expressions. I may say, in this part of our movement I took the labouring oar. I received a hundred letters in a day on this business; and I was invited by bodies of clergy to visit them at Coventry, Winchester, and in London, to expound the principles of our movement. Hook at Coventry received

me with his characteristic warmth. The clergy there, and wherever else I had an opportunity of meeting them, were as one man in their hearty approval of our objects and their earnest desire to promote them. My colleagues were in Oxford, and engaged in the same objects, but I was chiefly absent from Oxford, engaged in carrying out the details of the movement, especially from London as a centre.

Great opposition was encountered in some quarters, and jealousy was felt by some of the bishops, as if the Address to the Primate had been intended to imply some distrust in them. But upon explanations being given, those unfavourable impressions were removed, and the clergy in every part of England united to an unparalleled extent in the signature of the general Address to the Primate. Even those prelates who had been at first opposed to the Address were satisfied of the integrity of our purposes, and honoured us by their encouragement. At the beginning of 1834 the Address (to which fresh signatures were coming in by hundreds daily) had been signed by 8,000 clergy-the greatest combination hitherto known in the Church of England-and was presented to the Primate by a deputation, consisting of deans, archdeacons, professors of divinity, proctors in Convocation, heads of houses, and university officials (amongst whom was our colleague, Mr. Keble, then Professor of Poetry at Oxford).

During the circulation of the Declaration of the Association and the Address to the Archbishop, the laity in many parts had expressed a strong desire to take part in the movement on behalf of objects in which they were as deeply interested as the clergy. It was impossible to resist this touching appeal. I was in London commissioned to arrange this part of the movement, and in conference with Joshua Watson and other heads of the churchmen of London, it was agreed to appoint a committee of laymen to promote the circulation and signature of a lay declaration and address echoing the sentiments of the clerical address. These documents were chiefly drawn up by Joshua Watson, and I was enabled to put the committee in communication with energetic churchmen in almost all important towns in England.

The circulation of these documents amongst the lay churchmen of England imparted a new character to the events of the day. Meetings were summoned in every town in England; but such was the alarm and the state of disturbance, that admission was only in general given by tickets. The effect was remarkable. From every part of England, and every town and city, there arose a united, a strong, an emphatic declaration of warm, and zealous, and devoted loyalty to the Church of England. The national feeling, long pent up, depressed, despondent, had at length obtained freedom to pour forth; and the effect was amazing. The Church suddenly came to life. The

journals daily were filled with reports of meetings, in which sentiments long unknown to the columns of newspapers were expressed— sentiments such as in former days had animated the British people when men wept and knelt in prayer, blessing the Seven Bishops. The Church, to its astonishment, found itself the object of warm popular affection and universal devotion. Its enemies were silenced.

Presently, the courage and the hope of churchmen, which had been so greatly revived by these outpourings of national affection and feeling, were to receive a fresh impulse. The prelates of England, according to custom, presented an address to the King on occasion of his royal birthday, in May, 1834. In his reply, the King employed language long unheard on similar occasions. He solemnly declared, in the presence of that God before whom he must shortly stand, attachment to the Church "from the deepest conviction," and a "fixed purpose, determination, and resolution to maintain the religion of the country and the Church of England and Ireland." His Majesty declared that he had spoken more strongly than usual, "because the threats of those who are enemies of the Church make it the more necessary for those who feel their duty to that Church to speak out." The King was observed to be deeply affected in delivering this speech to the bishops.

In describing the first movements to which our conferences gave rise, and which here terminated, I have left comparatively little space for speaking of results of another description, and of the deepest importance, which immediately ensued. I allude to the distinct movement inaugurated by Newman, and from which what has been termed "Tractarianism," or by some "Puseyism," took its rise. Newman had returned from the Continent in July, as he informs us in the "Apologia," with an impression that he was predestined to accomplish some great and remarkable work for God. Those who -conversed with him were not aware of this; nor did they know that while in Italy he had sought, in company with Froude, to ascertain the terms on which they might be admitted to communion with Rome, and had been surprised on learning that an acceptance of the Decrees of the Council of Trent was a necessary preliminary. I been aware of these circumstances, I do not know whether I should have been able to co-operate so cordially as I did with this great man.

Had

But Newman was one of those who, with a remarkable degree of firmness in opinions once formed, was eminently tolerant of differences of opinions in others, and willing to sympathize with them to an unusual extent. His own opinion or line of action was one that could not be affected by any difference of opinion on the part of others. If others were not prepared to adopt his views, or were inclined to dispute them, he simply ignored them, and followed his

own views (as he has informed us), in amicable and charitable indifference to the apprehensions of others. Undoubtedly, if any man ever was entitled by natural abilities and acquired knowledge to feel this calm self-confidence, it was Newman. His gifts were rare, probably unrivalled, and he has left the marks of his genius deeply impressed on the history of his times. Nor were his intellectual qualities superior to his social and moral. No one ever surpassed him in kindness and geniality, in courtesy and natural refinement; in sympathy for others; in all those charms which establish an influence over the souls and hearts of men. He was a born leader of men; qualified to exercise the deepest influence upon the age in which he lived. There are many men to be found at all times (and at this time their number at Oxford was great) who, with excellent abilities and considerable attainments, require to have their opinions guided by some leader of superior power, and who, in fact, as regards the exercise of independent thought or judgment, are in a state of pupilage. They can adopt with ardour the opinions of others. They can carry them out brilliantly to all their consequences, legitimate or illegitimate; but they are made to be disciples.

To a large class of men like this, including some of high distinction, a teacher of Newman's capacity was precisely the desideratum which their nature demanded. He accordingly became the centre of a society which was united to him by ties of admiration, affection, implicit obedience, utter devotion, such as has been seldom witnessed, except in the case of founders of religions.

Newman's commanding genius and firm self-reliance excepted him from all ordinary rules, and qualified him to be a leader, not to be a co-operator with others. When our movement in the autumn of 1833 was occupied in getting up declarations and addresses, and while Newman and Froude were alone in Oxford, Newman resolved to promote the common cause in his own way, by the publication of tracts upon Church principles, which were undoubtedly greatly needed.

The publication of such tracts had very much occupied our attention, but we had not as yet determined the conditions of their publication, when Newman, without any previous consultation with others, and mero motu, suddenly compiled and put in circulation in all parts of the country, a body of tracts upon Church principles generally. He was of course entitled to do so if he pleased. Those tracts were in many respects excellent. They were simple, ingenious, argumentative, original, bold in tone and in principle. They met to a considerable extent existing wants. They were directed against prevalent errors; but they showed a want of practical knowledge of the systems advocated by Rome and by Nonconformists. With all their varied attainments, Newman and Froude were not at home in

these branches of theology, and were not aware of the necessity of caution in their choice of arguments and use of language. The consequence was, that Newman, and others who were similarly circumstanced, made use of incautious language in the tracts, which gave wide offence in the Church, and created unmerited suspicions.

I became aware of this unfavourable impression, and this rising hostility, in the course of extended intercourse with the clergy, who complained of the language made use of in the tracts-language for which they supposed that the entire movement was responsible. It was impossible to convince them that these publications, while confessedly issued from Oxford, and from the same source which had produced our Declaration and Address, were, what they were in fact, the mere expressions of the opinions of individuals, unauthorized by any association or society, and published entirely upon the responsibility of their writers. Their anonymous and serial form combined with other circumstances to invest them with a formal and official character.

Finding the great dissatisfaction expressed by many sound churchmen at the expressions and notions occasionally occurring in the tracts, and being myself satisfied that a moderate degree of caution and some slight supervision would be sufficient to obviate such inconveniences, I repeatedly pressed upon Newman the desirableness of some system of revision before publication. As it happened, Newman had adopted, as a fundamental principle, that the tracts ought to be issued by individuals on their own responsibility, without any revision or correction whatever by others; that each individual willing to co-operate was to be invited to advocate whatever theories or views might commend themselves to his private judgment. Such, too, appeared to be the opinion of Froude and Keble. It was held that in the event of any check upon the boldest and freest handling of all subjects connected with the Church, all spirit and vigour would evaporate; writers would be disgusted; zeal would disdain to be bound by any rules; and the whole attempt would degenerate into an exhibition of stiff and formal orthodoxy. To such reasoning I was ill prepared to answer. The die was cast: Newman had adopted the principle of unfettered freedom in the publication of tracts; there was to be no check whatever on the liberty of speculation, theorizing, or expression. Whatever I could allege to the contrary was unavailing.

Newman at once became the sole leader of the movement; and, as I have said, no one could dispute the palm of qualifications which marked him out as the natural head of a great religious party. He did not in any degree seek to hold dominion over others. His position fell to him by default, as a matter of course. There was no one to dispute its possession with him.