THE LIBRARY 
 
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 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 RIVERSIDE
 
 
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 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE 
 
 VOL. L
 
 
 
 
 
 I
 
 MEMORIALS OF 
 A QJJIET LIFE 
 
 / 
 
 BY AUGUSTUS J." C HARE 
 
 > \ 
 
 AUTHOR OF " WALKS IN ROME," ETC. 
 
 IN TWO VOLS. I. 
 
 FIFTH EDITION. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 ANSON D. F. RANDOLPH & COMPANY, 
 
 770 BROADWAY, COR. 9'm STREET.
 
 37/ 
 
 I? 7
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 ONG ago, in the first months of her widowhood, these 
 Memorials were begun by my dearest mother, as a 
 Memoir of her husband, and of their common life at Alton. 
 Many old friends of the family then gladly lent their assist- 
 ance, and came forward with letters and journals which they 
 offered for her use. But in her weak health she was unable 
 to bear the strain of a work so full of conflicting excite- 
 ments of pleasure and pain, and, after a long effort, she was 
 reluctantly compelled to lay it aside. 
 
 Many years after, when, upon the death of her sister-in- 
 law, Mrs. Julius Hare, the last link was broken with another 
 portion of her sacred past, and when the remembrance of 
 all that Hurstmonceaux Rectory had been, seemed likely to 
 perish with the loving circle of those who had shared its 
 joys and sorrows, my mother again took up the pen she had 
 so long laid aside, and wished to continue her work as a 
 Memorial of the Two Brothers, Augustus and Julius Hare, 
 who were the authors of the " Guesses at Truth." But age
 
 VI PREFACE. 
 
 and infirmity were already pressing upon her, and she soon 
 became unable to do more than arrange the materials in 
 her hands, and add notes for my guidance as to the form 
 and manner in which she wished them to be applied. 
 
 In the last two years of her life she yielded to my earnest 
 wish, that in carrying on her work if I survived her I 
 might make her who had been the sunshine of my own life 
 the central figure in the picture. And she then consented 
 to employ the short interval through which she was still 
 spared to bless us, in writing down or dictating many frag- 
 ments concerning those with whom her earlier life was 
 passed, and who had long since joined the unseen " cloud 
 of witnesses." 
 
 My mother had always tried to make the simple ex- 
 perience of her own quiet life as useful to others as it 
 might be, and many who came to visit her had found in 
 her gentle counsel that help and comfort which many books 
 and much learning had failed to inspire. Her own heart 
 was always so filled with thankfulness for the many mercies 
 and blessings of her long life, so grateful to the Power which 
 had upheld, guided, and comforted her, that she was ever 
 filled with an earnest yearning to lead others to establish 
 themselves on the same Rock ; and whenever she felt that 
 the story of God's dealings in her own life could lead others 
 to a simpler faith and more entire trust in Him, she never 
 allowed any self-seeking reticence to interfere with this 
 instrumentality. " If I might only be a bridge upon which
 
 PREFACE. Vll 
 
 any Christian might pass over the chasm of doubt and 
 become altogether believing," was her constant feeling, and 
 " Oh, that my past life, which has been so wonderfully blest 
 by God, might be made useful for His service and lead 
 others to more entire trust in Him." And in this feeling, 
 when she was passing away from me, she permitted me, if I 
 thought it could be made useful for others, to uplift the veil 
 of her home life, and allow others to look in upon her 
 private thoughts and meditations, and so endeavour to 
 make them in some degree sharers in the blessing her dear 
 life has been to me. 
 
 My mother's existence was so bound up with that of the 
 immediate circle of her beloved ones, especially with that of 
 her husband, her sister, her brother-in-law Julius, and her 
 two sisters-in-law, Lucy and Esther Hare, that the story of 
 her life becomes of necessity that of their lives also, and 
 this I have tried to tell in no words of my own, but in such 
 selections from their common letters and journals as may 
 give the truest picture of what they were. 
 
 It has been rightly observed that no real interest can be 
 derived from a memoir which tells less than " the truth, 
 the whole truth, and nothing but the truth ;" and thus while 
 in collecting the fragments which remain from the lives of 
 my loved and lost ones, I am chiefly urged by the desire 
 of making others feel the influence of the sunshine of love 
 which has lighted up my past life I have striven to make 
 my story no mere eulogy of those of whom I have written,
 
 Vlll PREFACE. 
 
 but to give such traits of their living, acting reality as shall 
 present a true portrait to the reader's mind. 
 
 " They are all gone into the world of light ! 
 
 And I alone sit lingering here ; 
 Their very memory is fair and bright, 
 And my sad thoughts doth clear. 
 
 " I see them walking in an air of glory, 
 
 Whose light doth trample on my days ; 
 My days which are at best but dull and hoary, 
 Mere glimmerings and decays. 
 
 " O holy hope, and high humility, 
 
 High as the heavens above ! 
 
 These are your walks, and you have show'd them me 
 To kindle my cold love." 
 
 HOLMHURST. August. 187*.
 
 CONTENTS OF VOL. I. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 I. CHILDHOOD . ..... I 
 
 |ll. STOKE, ALDERLEY, AND HODNET l8 
 
 III. THE HARES OF HURSTMONCEAUX 6 
 
 IV. AUGUSTUS AND JULIUS HARE 159 
 
 V. CHANGES 2O7 
 
 VI. WEST WOODHAY 245 
 
 VII. HOME PORTRAITURE 284 
 
 VIII. TAKING ROOT AT ALTON 315 
 
 IX. JOURNALS "THE GREEN BOOK" 344 
 
 X. WILTSHIRE RIOTS AND VILLAGE DUTIES . . . 352 
 
 XI. SUNSHINE 383 
 
 XII. THE SHADOW OF THE CLOUD 445
 
 I. 
 
 CHILDHOOD. 
 
 " I begin 
 
 My story early not misled, I trust, 
 By an infirmity of love for days 
 Disowned by memory ere the breath of spring, 
 Planting my snowdrops among winter snows." 
 
 WORDSWORTH, The Prelude. 
 
 A BOUT a mile from the small town of Knutsford in 
 Cheshire, an avenue of elm-trees leads to the pleasant 
 old-fashioned house of Toft. No family but one have ever 
 lived in that house. The family of De Toft claimed direct 
 descent from Gunnora, Duchess of Normandy, grandmother 
 of William tht Conqueror, and the first De Toft who 
 settled in England came over to this country with his royal 
 cousin. In 1300, the property passed into the hands of the 
 Leycesters, when its heiress, in the reign of Richard II., 
 married Rafe Leycester, of Tabley, a younger brother of 
 the family who then, as now, occupied the adjoining estate. 
 Until late years the alliances of Cheshire gentry were 
 almost always sought within the limits of " the good old 
 county," and thus, in the time of Charles II., the owner of 
 Toft again married into the family of his neighbour at 
 Tabley, in the person of Eleanor, daughter of Sir Peter 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 Leycester, the historian, from whom therefore the families 
 of Tabley and Toft are equally descended. 
 
 The " Hall " of Toft was built about 1600, on the site of 
 an earlier manor-house, for the chapel of which the Pope 
 had granted an indulgence in 1412. It consists of a 
 central tower with a long, low wing on either side, once of 
 red brick, but long since covered with stucco ; and it looks, 
 on one side across the richly wooded Cheshire plain to the 
 rock which is crowned by Beeston Castle, and on the other 
 upon a low-lying park, studded with fine trees, and upon a 
 large pool into which the family threw their wine at the 
 time of the rising of the Stuarts,* and whence it was fished 
 up, not much improved, a hundred years after. 
 
 Rafe Leycester of Toft, whose widow was still living in 
 the old family house at the time this story opens, had been 
 the father of thirteen children of very different ages ; several 
 of these had died in childhood, others were dispersed by 
 marriage or other causes; but the youngest, Oswald, at 
 that time Vicar of Knutsford, was established at Toft with 
 his mother and his eldest brother George, who was un- 
 married ; and then, and long after, Toft was the centre and 
 rallying-point of the whole family, and beloved and looked 
 upon as one of the dearest and pleasantest of homes to the 
 circle of relations and friends to whom it was ever open. 
 Its very name as well as look cheered the heart and spoke 
 of love and unity. An aged member of the family used to 
 say that she always thought of this family home in reading 
 that verse in Acts iv., " Neither said any of them that 
 
 * The family plate and the maids' hoops were at the same time 
 buried under the mangers.
 
 CHILDHOOD. 
 
 aught of the things which he possessed was his own, but 
 they had all things common." It was such a spirit as this 
 which was long manifested in the domestic circle at Toft 
 what was for the good and enjoyment of one, was also for the 
 others ; for all, meum and tuum was tuum and meum also. 
 
 Oswald Leycester had married Miss Mary Johnson, of 
 Timperley; and at Toft, in the family home of many 
 generations, his four children were bom : Catherine, 
 April 15, 1791 ; Edward, Sept. 16, 1794; Charles, March 
 10, 1796; and Maria, Nov. 22, 1798. 
 
 Among the notes which my mother has left concerning 
 her childhood are the following : 
 
 " When I (Maria Leycester) was born, my grandmother 
 Leycester was still living, and the earliest record of my 
 existence was a quaint Cheshire saying of hers on first 
 seeing the new-born babe ' Well, she is hearty fow (very 
 ugly), to be sure.' She died in the following February, at 
 the age of ninety. 
 
 " My uncle George, with whom we lived, loved to play 
 with me, and used to put me on the chimney-piece, and 
 then laughed at my terror. When my nurse Sally was 
 ordered to take me away, because I cried at the sight of 
 visitors, he would say, ' Let them see her cry, for they have 
 seen her laugh often enough ;' and his question of ' why are 
 your eyes so dirty, Maria ? ' was one which I fully believed to 
 be founded on fact, and not on the brown colour of my eyes. 
 
 "The earliest recollections of my childhood centre 
 around my mother and my nurse Sally. ' The days of ray 
 years are now threescore and ten,' but I remember them 
 both perfectly. I have been told that in her earlier days 
 my mother was very pretty, with a very delicate colour in
 
 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 her checks. My recollection of her is as ve.y pale, with 
 light blue eyes, rather a long upper lip, and brown curls in 
 ' a front ' as her own hair was shorn close, and she wore a 
 turban of white muslin, and a clear white muslin handker- 
 chief in folds under her gown. She taught me in all my 
 lessons except French, but her weak health and bad head- 
 aches often prevented her hearing me, and many a time I 
 had to stand outside her door waiting till I could be heard, 
 which fretted me a good deal. When the lessons went 
 ill, I was sentenced to sit on the staircase till I was good, 
 and the task perfect. I imagine that though my mother 
 was most gentle, she was firm in her management of me. 
 In after years, her successor, Mrs. Oswald Leycester, used 
 to say that when she had suggested my doing something 
 because it would be pleasant, my mother appealed to me, 
 ' I think my little girl has a better motive for it ; what is it, 
 Mia ? ' and, ' Because it is right] was my reply. 
 
 " My nurse was as passionately fond of me as I was of 
 her. Many years after, when she had married, and had a 
 little boy of her own, she said, ' Oh, Miss Maria, I think I 
 am beginning to love him almost as much as I did you.' 
 She had been very well trained, for she had lived as a girl 
 with my aunt J. at Wilmslow, who was so strict with her 
 servants that she kept a pincushion on which she stuck a pin 
 for every fault they committed, as a reminder. With this, 
 my loving nurse, how well I remember the delight of our 
 walks, on spring evenings, into the Toft fields, to see the 
 young lambs and to pick spring flowers. We had also our 
 gardens in the wood, and my brother Edward had a project 
 of digging through the earth to the other side of the world, 
 which gave us unfailing occupation. He and Charles went 
 to school at Warrington before they went to Eton and 
 Rugby. Their holidays were a joyful time to me, and 
 Edward used to amuse me by taking me on his knee and
 
 CHILDHOOD. 
 
 telling me stories of Sinbad and Ali Baba. The family 
 habit was to dine at three, and to have a hot supper at 
 nine ; and on a Sunday evening, when my brothers were at 
 home, we were allowed to sit up to this supper, having first 
 been made to repeat the Church Catechism. When Edward 
 repeated the explanation he had learnt at school, and ended 
 that of the Lord's Prayer by calling its close the ' Dox- 
 ology,' we looked upon him as a model of wisdom and 
 knowledge. On these Sunday evenings also, when my 
 sister Kitty was at home, she played a sonata of Haydn or 
 Mozart for uncle George's amusement. This she did with 
 great spirit and execution, and she taught me, though I shed 
 many tears over her lessons. 
 
 " My stock of childish literature was limited to a very 
 few books. ' Juvenile Travellers,' ' The Robins ' (by 
 Mrs. Trimmer), ' Evenings at Home,' ' Perambulations of 
 a Mouse,' ' Dick the Little Pony,' ' Jemima Placid,' and 
 Mrs. Trimmer's Old and New Testament abridgments, 
 with her Roman and Grecian histories, were our whole 
 library, till, by the recommendation of some one, my 
 mother procured me ' Goldsmith's Geography,' ' Scripture 
 Biography,' ' Sacred Dialogues,' and the ' Parent's Assistant/ 
 which last I esteemed a perfect treasure, and read and re-read. 
 
 " My great delight was to go to Alderley Park and play 
 with the ' Miss Stanleys ' ; and it was a joy when, standing 
 by the breakfast-table, I heard it settled that the carriage 
 was to be ordered to 'go to Alderley, and that I was to be 
 of the party. In these visits to Alderley, one great source 
 of pleasure was in the children's books which were lent me, 
 of which ' Tales of the Genii,' and such like, were the most 
 attractive. When my little friends returned my visits, we 
 had tea under the trees opposite the book-room, and hide- 
 and-seek followed. 
 
 " Another happiness of my childhood was derived from
 
 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 the visits of the Ralph Leycesters, who came to Toft every 
 alternate year. Charlotte Leycester and I were inseparable, 
 and for the day before they went away our grief was un- 
 controllable. I remember vividly the misery of the dreary 
 winter's morning, when little Charlotte came in before day- 
 light to give me a last kiss and say good-bye, before another 
 two years' separation, and the sad day that followed. We 
 slept in the same room, and many talks we had after we had 
 lain down, ending sometimes with the request, ' When you 
 are asleep, tell me.' 
 
 " I had another young companion in the orphan child of 
 my mother's sister, Mrs. Bower, who, on the death of her 
 father, came to live with my mother ; but she was less con- 
 genial to me, and I was not sorry when she was sent to live 
 under Mrs. Butler's care, by the seaside, where she died 
 before she was grown up. 
 
 " One of my father's sisters having married a brother of 
 Lord Stamford, a great intimacy was carried on between 
 the two families, so that we were very intimate with Lord 
 Stamford's daughters the Ladies Charlotte, Maria, and 
 Jane Grey, of whom the two elder were about my age. 
 One of our amusements was to change our designations. 
 The Ladies Grey thought it as charming to be called 
 ' Miss,' as we did to be styled * Lady,' and we thus always 
 transferred our titles in our plays. 
 
 " The dress of those days was very different to that 
 which children have now. My white frocks were of lawn 
 or Irish cloth, without any work or ornament ; and, when I 
 went out, I used to wear a little green-baize coat. My food 
 also was of the simplest kind, consisting principally of 
 buttermilk and potatoes. 
 
 " The church at Knutsford which we attended, and of 
 which my father was vicar, was very large and very ugly. 
 The most striking remembrance that I retain of that church
 
 CHILDHOOD. 
 
 is of the Sunday after the news of Nelson's death, when 
 every one appeared in the appointed mourning, with scarlet 
 and black ribbons. 
 
 " Great events in the annals of our Toft life were the 
 periodical visits of my father's cousin, Lady Penrhyn, who 
 was prepared for as if she had been the queen ; and she 
 arrived with six horses, and always drove to church with 
 this state. Having no children herself, she had no love for 
 them, and in her visits we were always kept out of the 
 way ; but I amused myself by imitating her pomposity, and 
 strutting about saying, ' Now I am milady Penrhyn.' 
 
 "When my sister returned from school, in 1806, she 
 began to educate herself, and a little dressing-room out of 
 our bedroom was furnished with a bookcase and bureau, 
 where she read and wrote ; and, in imitation of her, I also 
 set up a little table with my books and writing things, where 
 I prepared my lessons, which she taught me from that time. 
 
 "In 1809 my sister accompanied Mrs. Stanley (aftenvards 
 Lady Maria) to London, and I was then sent to a small 
 school kept by Mrs. Butler, a widow lady, who had been 
 governess to the Alderley children. She lived at Leighton 
 Cottage, a pretty picturesque house, near Parkgate, and 
 situated in a lane leading up from the sea-beach to some 
 fields and a barn, which was the scene of our plays. Along 
 the side of this lane flowed a clear brook, and there I 
 first learnt my love of wild flowers, cranesbill, speedwell, 
 and forget-me-nots. Two of the Stanleys were my companions 
 here, and many other girls. We were all devoted to Mrs. 
 Butler, who wished us all to be like her own children, and 
 we thought it the highest privilege when our turn came for 
 a walk with her, or to have a private talk in her room. 
 
 "In 1806 my father's old college friend, Sir Corbet Corbet, 
 had presented him to the living of Stoke-upon-Terne, but we 
 only passed the summer months there for the first two years,
 
 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 when my uncle George always accompanied us. This dear 
 uncle of my childhood used to say that he did not see why 
 we should pray against ' sudden death,' he thought it so 
 desirable to avoid a long illness, and in 1809 he was found 
 dead in his bed at Cheltenham, whither he had gone for his 
 health. Upon this, my father resigned the living of Knuts- 
 ford, and we went to live altogether at Stoke, and my uncle 
 Ralph Leycester, with his children and grandchildren, came 
 to reside at Toft. 
 
 "On the 8th of May, 1810, my sister was married in 
 Stoke Church to Edward Stanley, Rector of Alderley. 
 Upon her marriage I left Leighton Cottage, and until my 
 mother's death I remained at home. My father gave me 
 lessons in it must be confessed bad French and Italian, 
 but it was my sister who still directed my studies by letter, 
 constantly sending me questions on the books which I read, 
 and expecting me to write her the answers. In this way I 
 in a certain sense conducted my own education, and much 
 did I enjoy these studies. Sometimes they were carried on 
 in a little bathing-house on an island in the river Terne, 
 which had been given to me as a possession to plant as I 
 liked with primroses, violets, and snowdrops, and which 
 was a great delight. 
 
 " Edward Stanley was to me the kindest of brothers, and 
 great was the amusement he gave by the playful verses he 
 wrote to please me, especially those on the death of one of 
 my black bantams. These bantams were given to me by 
 Lady Corbet, and were fed after breakfast from the dining- 
 room windows : it was the time when Bonaparte's name 
 was held up in terror to every one, so that when two of the 
 cocks fought the hens, they were named Bonaparte and the 
 King of Rome. 
 
 " A rival with Edward Stanley in my affections, as well 
 as in his fun and humour, was my dear uncle, Hugh
 
 CHILDHOOD. 
 
 Leycester. He was, both with his brothers and nieces, the 
 great favourite of the family his knowledge and kindness, 
 his generosity and affection, his wit and anecdotes, alike 
 conducing to render him beloved. The only fault which 
 people could find in him was his violent political zeal and 
 Tory partisanship, which made him intolerant of any oppo- 
 sition on these subjects. He had been an intimate personal 
 friend both of Pitt and Perceval, and the sudden death of the 
 latter was a great grief to him. In the later years of his 
 life he was quite deaf, and we could only communicate 
 with him by writing on a slate ; but he continued his lively 
 interest in us all, and after they were too infirm to meet, he 
 kept up a witty daily correspondence with his old friend, 
 Mr. Jekyll, who was his next neighbour in New Street, 
 Spring Gardens. 
 
 " Another constant visitor at Stoke was our dear cousin, 
 Eliza White, who often passed many months with us at a 
 time, and who always made herself most pleasant to us all. 
 Often did I sit on a little stool at her feet, pouring out all 
 my childish joys and sorrows, and receiving her counsel. 
 
 "As I had no companion, I always accompanied my 
 parents in their visits. Those to Sir Corbet Corbet, at 
 Adderley, were always a great pleasure. Lady Corbet was 
 most amusing. Every morning after breakfast she put on 
 a gardening dress, and with a bunch of keys, knife, &c., at 
 her side, sallied forth to make the round of her stable yard, 
 poultry yard, pigstyes, and gardens, and I thought it a great 
 treat to go with her. Then in the evening she would read 
 to us out of her Italian journals, and my first longings to 
 see Rome came from this source. The house was filled with 
 pictures by old masters, and over the drawing-room chimney- 
 piece was a very beautiful bas-relief of the Nine Muses. The 
 only drawback to the pleasure of Adderley lay in the early 
 dinners at three o'clock, and Sir Corbet's impatience of any
 
 10 
 
 unpunctuality ; when he was fidgety, Lady Corbet used to 
 call him ' Sir Crab.' 
 
 " The autumn of 1811, which was one of several we spent 
 at Penrhyn Castle, was most delightful, as Edward and I 
 enjoyed it together, riding on Welsh ponies to the different 
 mountains and waterfalls, How enchanting were the morn- 
 ing walks to the bathing-house ; how pleasant the picnic 
 expeditions to Ogwen Bank, with its waterfalls and garden 
 seats shaped like mushrooms ! Then also there were visits 
 to the slate quarries, and the sight of all the different kinds 
 of slate, called ' Duchesses, Countesses,' &c. In the after- 
 noons, after dinner, we used to walk to Pennysinnant, an 
 ornamented farmhouse, to see the poultry yard, on which 
 occasions I gave great offence to Lady Penrhyn, by admiring 
 the sight of the mountains more than her poultry, and she 
 used to complain of it to my mother. She was very formal 
 and stately, and we were greatly afraid of her, and many a 
 hard gallop home did Edward and I have upon our ponies, 
 to be in time for the early dinner, for fear of the scolding 
 which should await us. Lady Penrhyn had three pugs, very 
 ugly, and always dressed in little scarlet bonnets and cloaks. 
 When she was in London, in her house in Grosvenor 
 Square, they used to be taken out thus attired to walk in the 
 square, with a footman to attend them. She left them each 
 an annuity when she died, and they lived an immense time. 
 Once, in Lord Penrhyn's time, when she and Lord P. were 
 driving in their coach and six, through the streets of North- 
 wich, the pugs were looking out of the windows, and the by- 
 standers, mistaking their species, exclaimed, ' Eh ! milord and 
 milady are mighty fine, but their children are hearty fo\v.' 
 
 " On our way to and from Penrhyn Castle, we used to 
 visit the Ladies of Llangollen. They were dressed in men's 
 hats and cloth habits, with powdered hair. Lady Eleanor 
 Butler was short and fat, but Miss Ponsonby was tall and
 
 CHILDHOOD. 
 
 thin, and used often to be supposed to be a man in disguise. 
 They had a romantic attachment for each other, and had 
 forsaken their own family to be more entirely together, but 
 though professing to lead a recluse life, few people could 
 see more of the world, and their correspondence was with 
 royalties and nobility of all nations. Their cottage was 
 filled with oggetti of every kind, chiefly presents they had 
 received, and it had coloured glass windows and carved oak 
 furniture. It was they who first told Lady Penrhyn that my 
 handsome brother Edward was like her, and it is said they thus 
 gave her the first idea of making him her heir ; but I believe 
 that which really made her do so was her amusement when 
 her young cousin in riding home had not enough money left 
 to pay a turnpike gate, and was obliged to leave his hand- 
 kerchief in pawn with the toll-collector. 
 
 " In July, 1812, my dear mother had a paralytic stroke. 
 Though the immediate danger was averted, she was unable 
 to do anything, or to speak clearly from that time. Every 
 night I used to read to her, and kneel by her bedside to 
 pray before going to bed. She had gradually been regain- 
 ing her lost powers, could read a few lines, and had begun 
 to knit some socks for her little grandchild, Owen Stanley, 
 when, on October 12, we were waked in the night by her 
 having another seizure, and on the following afternoon her 
 spirit passed away. It was my first affliction, and a very 
 great one. On the day of her burial, I saw the procession 
 from my bedroom window, and realised the lines which I 
 had long been familiar with in Cowper's Poem on his 
 mother's picture : 
 
 ' I heard the bell tolled on thy burial day, 
 I saw the hearse that bore thee slow away,' &c. 
 
 My brothers were my chief comforters, and we all tried to 
 soothe our father's grief.
 
 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 " I do not remember ever hearing the slightest cross or 
 angry word pass my mother's lips. She preferred every- 
 body's opinion before her own, and thought no good office 
 too trivial for her performance. She seemed only able to 
 see the good in others, and was ever willing to make allow- 
 ance for their faults. To the poor she was most kind and 
 charitable, working for them herself with the greatest dili- 
 gence, and assisting them in every way. To those who 
 had displeased her she was always forgiving, and she never 
 would show any impatience against them, but would reprove 
 them mildly and gently, and during her illness she was 
 always satisfied and grateful for all that was done for her. 
 My brother Edward wrote some lines after her death, 
 which I will insert here : 
 
 ' If filial love could animate the clay, 
 Or bid the flitting soul resume its sway, 
 Say, could I wish reversed the mournful dojm 
 Which kid my mother in the silent tomb ? 
 No ; while with moistened cheek and downcast eye 
 I heave in selfish grief the bitter sigh, 
 Still let me own that lenient was the blow 
 Which put the period to a mother's woe, 
 Which bid disease and pain for ever cease, 
 And whispered, e'en in death, eternal peace.'" 
 
 Her mother's death was perhaps the first event which led 
 Maria Leycester, young as she was, to seek the highest 
 source of comfort, and to endeavour to make her life useful 
 and helpful to others. An old yellow fragment of paper 
 still exists on which she poured forth her soul in prayer in 
 the first burst of sorrow. 
 
 " Oct. 14, 1812. Oh ! most holy and merciful God, now 
 in this time of affliction I call unto thee. Oh ! forsake
 
 CHILDHOOD. 
 
 me not give me strength and fortitude to bear this great 
 trial with resignation to thy divine will. Oh ! comfort and 
 support my afflicted parent and his motherless children ; 
 make us sensible of the justice and wisdom of all thy 
 decrees ; and in thinking of and admiring her virtues, may 
 we endeavour to imitate them, and become, as we hope 
 and trust she is, partakers of thy everlasting kingdom. Oh ! 
 enable me to be a support and blessing to my dear father, 
 may I make it the business of my life to console and com- 
 fort him, and may I never give myself up to my own selfish 
 pleasures, but consider him in all my actions. I am de- 
 prived of the dear and excellent mother who has been the 
 guide and protector of my youth. Oh ! may I always act 
 as she would wish me to do if she were present, and may I 
 look for that motherly protection (of which I am bereft here 
 on earth) to my heavenly Father. Direct and guide my 
 steps in the paths of wisdom and virtue, make me sensible 
 of the uncertainty of human life, and grant that I may be 
 prepared for death whenever it shall arrive. 'The Lord 
 gave and the Lord hath taken away, blessed be the name 
 of the Lord' 'Thy will be done on earth as it is in 
 heaven.' Amen." 
 
 From the many letters which were written by Mrs. 
 Stanley for the instruction of her young sister, the insertion 
 of the following may not be deemed superfluous : 
 
 C. S. to M. L. 
 
 " July 28, 1809. The first and great object of your read- 
 ing should be to improve your own knowledge, and thereby 
 enlarge your mind and give you a guide in the most im- 
 portant duties of life, by furnishing you with the opinions 
 and examples of others, and by enabling you to form 
 opinions for yourself. When you sit down to your book,
 
 14 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 then, consider that you are not taking it up to amuse and 
 pass away the present hour, but to give you some informa- 
 tion you have not had before, to acquire some new ideas, 
 or perhaps to see some of your own ideas put in a better 
 form than you would have been able to put them yourself. 
 ' There are many who read with constancy and diligence, 
 and yet make no true advancement in knowledge. They 
 are deluded with the notions and things they read of as 
 they would be with stories that are told, but they make no 
 observations upon them, learn nothing from them, their 
 eyes glide over the pages or the words over their ears, like 
 the shadows of a cloud flying over a green field in a sum- 
 mer's day.' If, when you have shut your book, you have 
 also shut your mind ; if you never call yourself to account 
 for what you have been reading and learning, if you skim 
 over the pages and read only those parts which can amuse 
 or divert your mind at the time, without bestowing one 
 thought upon it afterwards, though you read every day and 
 all day, you will have made no improvement in any way, 
 and would have been doing almost as much in counting the 
 grains of sand upon the sea-shore could that have been any 
 amusement to you, though you would probably be shocked 
 at the idea of so wasting your time. Books of amusement 
 mere amusement are naturally pleasing and alluring at 
 your age, and indeed at any age, and, with a disposition 
 and desire to improve as well as amuse yourself, there is 
 no book of mere amusement, unless it be very silly indeed, 
 from which you may not gain something ; and, even in a 
 silly book, you may exercise your judgment by finding out 
 what is foolish, and how it would have been better other- 
 wise. What I mean to impress upon your mind is that you 
 are not to fancy yourself fond of improving yourself merely 
 because you are fond of reading, for reading, without obser- 
 vation while you are reading, and reflection afterwards upon
 
 CHILDHOOD. 15 
 
 what you have read, is, as I have said before, little better 
 than loss of time. 
 
 " I wish you to write down your observations and re- 
 marks upon every book you read, of whatever kind it is, in 
 your MS. book. Put down in it the pages which have 
 particularly pleased or interested you, or those which have 
 given you any new ideas, if you think the subject sufficiently 
 important to be remembered and fully understood, which 
 a little consideration will soon enable you to judge of; 
 give a short account of the contents of the book, or the 
 contents of any part of it which you have especially liked. 
 Any book that is worth your reading is worth these pains, 
 for your own experience will tell you that you have but a 
 faint recollection of the books you read a year, or even half 
 a year ago, at least, if you were called upon to give an 
 opinion about them, and point out any parts you liked or 
 disliked, though you might have a general idea of whether 
 the book on the whole pleased you, and of the general 
 nature of its contents, its details will completely have faded 
 from your remembrance, and you would be unable to give 
 any opinion concerning it, or to recall any observations 
 which occurred to you while reading it. What I have been 
 recommending to you will obviate this entirely; you will 
 have your opinions of books in their first clearness and 
 freshness to refer to, besides having them more deeply im- 
 printed on your memory by the very act of writing them 
 down and thinking about them more than you would other- 
 wise have done. 
 
 " You are now in a progressive state of improvement ; 
 every year makes a more sensible and perceptible difference 
 in your powers of mind now than perhaps it will do some 
 few years hence; if you would look back even into the 
 last year of your life, into all your feelings and thoughts for 
 one day, you would probably be surprised to find them so
 
 16 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 different from what they are now, and you would wonder 
 what pleasure you could take in things which then appeared 
 to you the height of happiness, and how you could be so 
 stupid as to find no pleasure in things you now delight in. 
 And in future years, when you look back upon your present 
 enjoyments, you will be able more accurately to estimate 
 your advance in knowledge, &c., by having a few of the 
 remarks and ideas of different periods of life to refer to, than 
 by any other means I can think of. Do not let your obser- 
 vations be confined to the things you particularly like; mark 
 also those passages you do not understand, either to have 
 them explained by some abler head than your own, or that 
 you may explain them yourself to yourself at some more 
 advanced period of knowledge. A few books read in this 
 way, I need hardly tell you, will be of more service than a 
 whole library swallowed as children usually swallow books 
 whole, without either chewing or digesting them, so as to 
 render them serviceable to the general welfare of the mind. 
 You are not too young to begin this, because the moment 
 you can know and feel that you have a mind capable of 
 improvement, it becomes your duty to improve it to the 
 utmost extent of that capability." .... 
 
 In the spring following her mother's death, Maria 
 Leycester paid her first visit, with her cousins, the Ralph 
 Leycesters, to London, where she had the benefit of masters. 
 After the summer holidays, she returned for a time to the 
 care of Mrs. Butler, but came to live at home again upon 
 her father's second marriage, in June, 1814, to Eliza White, 
 the beloved cousin of his first wife. The news of his en- 
 gagement was a source of unmixed joy to his daughter 
 Maria, to whom the friend of her childhood became thus a 
 constant companion ; and her warm reception of her step-
 
 CHILDHOOD. 17 
 
 mother was never forgotten by Mrs. Oswald Leycester, who, 
 while fulfilling to the utmost a mother's duties towards all 
 her husband's children, reserved the principal warmth of her 
 affection for his youngest daughter. 
 
 Miss WHITE to M. L. 
 
 " May 27, 1814. You have gratified every feeling of my 
 heart, my dear Maria, by your reception of the news of our 
 future relationship, and I would not even have dispensed 
 with your tears on the occasion. They were a just and 
 feeling tribute of affection to the memory of her who so 
 well deserved our love, and whose example will, I trust, 
 through life, have an influence over both your character 
 and mine. With my best ability I will strive to be what she 
 was both to your father and her children most particularly 
 to you and Charles, as the only two about whom she was 
 wont to express anxiety. 
 
 " On the 1 4th of next month the gig will be sent to 
 fetch you to Stoke, where I hope you will be in readiness 
 to receive me on the 27th. I have been so accustomed to 
 see there so many dear faces brighten up on my arrival, so 
 many kind hands extended to welcome me, that I confess 
 I sickened at the thought of taking possession only of empty 
 apartments. My dear Maria will in that moment seem all 
 the world to me, for she will appear to me as the dear 
 representative of her most dear mother. . . I wish you to 
 be to me only what you have been ever since you could 
 distinguish right from wrong. -The terms 'authority' and 
 'obedience' must not be known or felt among us ; we must 
 live together as persons united for life in the bonds of mutual 
 affection and social interest, each seeking to live for the 
 happiness of the other, and striving to banish every selfish 
 consideration . . . God bless you, my own little Maria." 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 II. 
 
 STOKE, ALDERLEY, AND HODNET. 
 
 ' La jeunesse devait etre une caisse d'epargne." 
 
 MADAME SWETCHINE. 
 
 " This life which seems so fair, 
 
 Is like a bubble blown up in the air, 
 
 By sporting children's breath, 
 
 Who chase it everywhere, 
 And strive who can most motion it bequeath." 
 
 WILLIAM DRUMMOND, 1585 1649. 
 
 HPHE great interest and pleasure of my mother's early 
 home life came from Hodnet, two miles from her 
 father's rectory, where Reginald Heber held the living. 
 Her first acquaintance with the Hebers began through her 
 constantly walking across the heath from Stoke to the after- 
 noon Sunday service, to hear him preach. From frequently 
 seeing her at church, the Reginald Hebers began to invite 
 her to pass Sunday with them ; and the intimacy thus engen- 
 dered increased till scarcely a day passed, part of which 
 was not spent at Hodnet Maria Leycester joining the 
 Hebers in their afternoon rides through the delightful 
 glades of Hawkestone, and remaining to dinner ; while, in 
 the evenings, Mr. Heber would read aloud, poetry, or 
 Walter Scott's newly published novels, " Waverley," " Guy
 
 STOKE, ALDERLEY, AND HODNET. 19 
 
 Mannering," and " Ivanhoe," which, for several years, while 
 their authorship remained a mystery, were generally attri- 
 buted to Richard Heber, the rector's elder brother. In 
 1817, Miss Leycester spent her mornings also at Hodnet, 
 where, when she wished to learn German in preparation for 
 a foreign tour, Mr. Heber offered to become her instructor. 
 At the same time, he frequently wrote songs to suit her 
 music, as he greatly delighted in her playing and singing. 
 His little poem, " I see them on their Winding Way," was 
 written thus in October, 1820. 
 
 Nor was it only by lessons in literature that Reginald 
 Heber instructed his pupil. No one could live constantly 
 within the influence of his cheerful active life, devoted, 
 either at home or amongst his parishioners, to the good of 
 others, yet with the most entire unostentation, without 
 praying that his mantle might fall upon them. " In no 
 scene of his life, perhaps," wrote Mr. Blunt, "did his 
 character appear in greater beauty than while he was living 
 here, ' seeing God's blessings spring out of his mother earth, 
 and eating his own bread in peace and privacy.' His 
 talents might have made him proud, but he was humble- 
 minded as a child eager to call forth the intellectual stores 
 of others, rather than to display his own, arguing without 
 dogmatism, and convincing without triumph, equally willing 
 to reason with the wise, or to take a share in the innocent 
 gaieties of a winter's fireside ; for it was no part of his creed 
 that all innocent mirth ought to be banished from the pur- 
 lieus of a good man's dwelling ; or that he is called upon to 
 abstract himself from the refinements and civilities of life, as 
 if sitting to Teniers for a picture of the Temptations of St.
 
 20 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 Anthony. The attentions he received might have made 
 him selfish, but his own inclination was ever the last he con- 
 sulted ; indeed, of all the features in his character, this was, 
 perhaps, the most prominent that in him self did not seem 
 to be denied, to be mortified, but to be forgotten. His love 
 of letters might have made him an inactive parish priest, but 
 he was daily amongst his parishioners, advising them in 
 difficulties, comforting them in distress, kneeling, often to 
 the hazard of his own life, by their sick-beds; exhorting, 
 encouraging, reproving as he saw need ; when there was 
 strife, the peacemaker; when there was want, the cheerful 
 giver. Yet, in all this, there was no parade, no effort, 
 apparently not the smallest consciousness that his conduct 
 differed from that of other men his duty seemed to be his 
 delight, his piety an instinct. Many a good deed done by 
 him in secret only came to light when he had been removed 
 far away, and but for that removal would have been for 
 ever hid ; many an instance of benevolent interference 
 when it was least suspected, and of delicate attention to- 
 wards those whose humble rank in life is too often thought 
 to exempt their superiors from all need of mingling courtesy 
 with kindness. That he was sometimes deceived in his 
 favourable estimate of mankind, it would be vain to deny ; 
 such a guileless, confiding, unsuspicious singleness of heart 
 as his, cannot always be proof against cunning. But if he 
 had not this worldly knowledge, he wanted it perhaps in 
 common with most men of genius and virtue ; the ' wisdom 
 of the serpent ' was almost the only wisdom in which he did 
 not abound."* 
 
 * Quarterly Review, 1827.
 
 STOKE, ALDERLEY, AND HODNET. 21 
 
 The following extracts from letters give some glimpses into 
 Maria Leycester's home-life during these years of her youth : 
 
 M. L. to Miss HIBBERT. 
 
 " Oct. 1 8, 1816. I want sadly to know all you have been 
 doing and seeing since the luckless day that bore me away 
 from happy, happy Alderley. I only permit myself as a 
 relaxation, as an amusement, to think of the six happy weeks 
 at Alderley, when I have been very industrious . . in short, 
 you do not know the pleasure I have in it. 
 
 " Part of last week we spent at Adderley, Sir Corbet 
 Corbet's the most comfortable, enjoyable house imaginable, 
 and Lady Corbet the most agreeable woman, with a con- 
 stant fund of anecdote and entertainment, and never-failing 
 good spirits, which are surprising at her age, for I think she 
 is above seventy." 
 
 "Nov. 22, 1816. Did you ever read Foster's 'Essays.' 
 E. Stanley gave them to me three years ago, and Kitty re- 
 commended me to delay reading them for some time. I 
 scrupulously followed her advice, and looked at them with 
 an envious eye every day till the present moment arrived, 
 when I thought, that as a recompense for being eighteen, I 
 might allow myself to open the tantalizing book. Oh that 
 you were here, that I might show you passage after passage 
 as it delights me ; the thoughts are sometimes so exceedingly 
 ingenious, the sentiments so exactly what one has thought 
 oneself a hundred times, without being able to clothe them 
 in the same language." 
 
 "May 24, 1817. I have just spent two delightful days 
 at Hodnet rectory. Oh, the charms of a rectory inhabited 
 by a Reginald Heber, or an Edward Stanley ! To be sure, 
 splendour and luxury sink into the ground before such real 
 
 happiness I do not think I ever before enjoyed the 
 
 beauties of nature as much as I have done this spring, and
 
 22 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 you cannot imagine how interesting my solitary rides are 
 made by the varieties of light and shade the lightness and 
 elegance of the newly come-out trees, backed by magnifi- 
 cent black or purple clouds, and the various pretty bits that 
 strike my fancy. I attribute one cause of my increased 
 pleasure to the having learnt to colour. A hundred beautifully 
 tinted cottages, or trees, or mossy rocks which I never 
 remarked before, now give me much pleasure, just as I felt 
 before that the knowledge of drawing itself made me find 
 out many picturesque things which my natural taste would 
 not have discovered." 
 
 "June 2, 1817. We have had the Stanleys here for ten 
 delightful days, for two of which we all adjourned to Hodnet. 
 and were extremely happy there. The evenings were per- 
 fectly delightful. We drank tea out of doors, and after 
 tea, Edward Penrhyn* and I generally walked about till 
 eleven o'clock. You have sometimes, I believe, heard me 
 talk of his perfections, and yet, vain as you may have thought 
 me then, I believe now, that I never knew him perfectly 
 till this time." 
 
 " June 7, 1817. I have spent a very agreeable week 
 but you will not be very much surprised when you learn 
 that two of the days we had the Reginald Hebers here, and 
 the rest I spent at Alderley. I never saw, or rather heard 
 Mr. Reginald Heber so agreeable, though, indeed, I always 
 say this of the last time of seeing him ; but really, his stories 
 are quite inexhaustible the more he tells, the more he 
 seems to have to tell. His brother, Mr. Heber, was here 
 likewise one day, and was very agreeable too ; but not so 
 loveable as Reginald. How happy I am to be able to say 
 I love him ! I may thank Mrs. R. H. for that. I dine with 
 
 * Edward Leycester took the name of Penrhyn with the fortune of 
 his father's cousin, Lady Penrhyn, upon her death.
 
 STOKE, ALDERLEY, AND HODNET. 23 
 
 them on Saturday, that I may ride with them in the evening, 
 and in short, I see them continually." 
 
 " June 12. Do you wish to have the overflowings of my 
 happiness? Well, then, you shall be satisfied. After 
 waiting in anxious expectation from five o'clock hearing 
 six strike then seven just meaning to go to dress just 
 trying to persuade my sanguine hopes that they would not 
 come the rattling wheels of a hack-chaise were heard, and 
 the two dear faces of my two dear brothers presented them- 
 selves You may imagine how I enjoy such com- 
 panions after my solitude." 
 
 " June 14. A most delightful evening with the Hebers 
 Reginald reading and reciting verses, and telling various 
 entertaining stories. Among others, he mentioned that a 
 letter had lately been received at the post-office directed 
 ' To my son,' and great was the difficulty as to whom the 
 letter should be delivered, till a sailor solved it by asking if 
 there was a letter ' from my mother,' when it was given up 
 to him at once. Late in the evening he recited a poem of 
 Coleridge's ' The Ancient Mariner.' " 
 
 A letter from Mrs. Stanley at this time presents an idea of 
 the happy relationship which existed between the sisters : 
 
 "Alderley, Dec. 4, 1817. Your letter was just what I 
 meant to draw forth by a little sentence in my last, and I 
 know you so well that I was pretty sure such would be the 
 effect, and that is one great charm of perfect acquaintance 
 and confidence in character the certainty that everything 
 will tell, and that there will be a certain rebound, and that 
 there are no hidden irregularities or unsoundnesses to make 
 that rebound a false one, or, to speak more plainly, that 
 there is the certainty that one mind will feel in reading 
 exactly what the other felt in writing; and perhaps it is
 
 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 necessary to have more experience than can or ought to be 
 had at nineteen of the inconceivable bizarreries of human 
 character, which so often interfere with this kind of confi- 
 dence, to make this certainty sufficiently valued. I have 
 often thought with you that we have not made use enough 
 of this mutual advantage. I believe it is on the principle 
 that very different people often make the best companions 
 and friends that there is a certain difference of conforma- 
 tion necessary to give variety and piquancy to conversation, 
 and that the interchange of thought is more interesting 
 when things are seen under different aspects and that we 
 should not do to live together literally because we are too 
 much alike, so that it would be like talking to oneself, 
 and our faults would meet with no counterbalance to check 
 them. 
 
 " However, we have friends enough, and different enough, 
 to secure us from all dangers of this sort, and I think we 
 may find advantages enough in our similarity to do away all 
 apprehension of not being the greatest mutual pleasure and 
 comfort to each other all through life. I think I was two 
 years older than you at nineteen, that is to say, the thoughts 
 which are passing through your mind now probably went 
 through mine at seventeen the different circumstances 
 which called me so much sooner from my state of childhood 
 to take my part in life being probably the cause of this 
 earlier development, which I apprehend that all minds 
 which are minds feel sooner or later. I do not think 
 there is any advantage in this ; rather the contrary ; we are 
 sure to grow older, mind and body, sooner than we wish, 
 and so the longer we can keep to the earlier stages the 
 better. Then I used to read Miss Hamilton and Akenside 
 as you do, and I delighted in the latter ; but now I look 
 back to my old marks, and find many blemishes to take 
 away some of the delight, and I find that the taste becomes
 
 STOKE, ALDERLEY, AND HODNET. 25 
 
 more nice and refined, and that many things which ap- 
 peared insipid then, as a very beautiful Claude Lorraine 
 picture would to an ignorant eye, strike me now from their 
 harmony, just proportion, delicate touches, &c., which are 
 overlooked when the mind is seeking for vivid impressions, 
 strong feelings, &c. You are not much given to romance 
 or imagination, therefore there is no necessity to guard 
 against any excesses of this kind, and I would rather talk 
 with you of what I was then than what I may be now, not 
 to forestall those observations and improvements and 
 changes which are good for nothing, unless they are worked 
 out in a regular course of operation by the mind itself. I 
 would always rather that you expressed the feeling and 
 opinion first, and left me to say that I had thought and felt 
 so before you, than that I should tell you what had been 
 my case, and then that you should find out yourself in it, 
 for there is always a danger of spoiling the originality of 
 thought and character in any degree of following after 
 another ; and so I would have you rather encourage than 
 check any thought which may happen to rise different from 
 mine. Trust implicitly to your own heart to inform you 
 whether I shall ever be tired of reading all you can write 
 about yourself. I should be more interested in it than any 
 other subject, even if you were not my sister, but being as 
 it is ! " 
 
 In May, 1818, the Edward Stanleys decided on accom- 
 panying the family from Stoke in a long continental tour, 
 but their departure was considerably delayed by an accident 
 which befell old Mr. Hugh Leycester, who broke his arm 
 by falling down-stairs, on coming out of the opera-house. 
 While he was being nursed in London, his niece Maria 
 remained at Privy Gardens with her friends the Stanleys,
 
 26 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 and much enjoyed seeing many people of whom hitherto 
 she had only heard, but especially making the personal 
 acquaintance of Lady Maria Stanley's niece, Miss Clinton, 
 with whom she was ever afterward* united in the closest 
 bonds of affection. 
 
 The family tour lasted more than five months, in which 
 they visited a great part of France, the north of Italy, 
 Switzerland, and the Rhine, Mr. Penrhyn joining the 
 party in Switzerland. 
 
 M. L. to L. A. S. (Lucy ANNE STANLEY). 
 
 "Paris, June 14, 1818. We left Calais with four horses, 
 which in England would be considered as far below the 
 rank of cart-horses, harnessed together with ropes, which, 
 being extremely loose, gave them the opportunity of going 
 one to one side of the road, the other to the other, ad 
 libitum, whilst the sole office of the postillions seemed to be 
 to crack their whips over their own heads, making a noise I 
 never heard equalled by anything before. But this, amusing 
 as it was, was nothing compared with the excessive drollery 
 of the postillions themselves their powdered heads and 
 long pigtails, and their jack-boots. Of these last no 
 description can give an adequate idea; one little fellow, 
 who with some difficulty had got into them, no sooner 
 attempted to walk than over he went, jack-boots and all, 
 and had a fine roll Here all is new, all is amus- 
 ing: one hears and reads of all the things, but it is 
 astonishing how little impression it makes on one. I have 
 felt surprised with many things, and only remembered 
 afterwards that I have known them before. I expected to 
 have a fine view of Paris, or at least some intimation of it 
 before arriving ; but no, we went on through avenues and 
 corn-fields, close to Montmartre, up one hill and down
 
 STOKE, ALDERLEY, AND HODNET. 27 
 
 another, expecting each to give us a view of the town, but 
 no sign of a great capital appeared till we got close to the 
 first gate, and entered in a moment upon high houses and 
 long streets, in which the lamps suspended across, and the 
 large gutters down the middle, give the first different 
 appearance from London. We arrived at a place looking 
 like a prison, with one large door, heavy and massy, and 
 windows barred doubly and trebly with iron. The outside 
 of a hotel is not inviting, but inside is a grand court, and 
 
 our rooms are handsome This morning, Sunday, we 
 
 have been to the Chapelle Royale; the squeezing almost 
 intolerable, first lifted up, then pushed down, sideways, 
 forwards, threatened with broken arms and legs ; and after 
 all, by peeping over and under some dozens of heads, and 
 standing on tiptoes leaning against a pillar, contrived to see 
 the fat but not unpleasing Louis XVIII., the Due and 
 Duchesse de Berri and the Comte d'Artois, with all their old 
 courtiers, in their bag wigs and swords and lace ruffles. . . . 
 We have also been to Malmaison. Little remains of the 
 interesting Josephine but the saloon where she lived, a most 
 delightful room, filled with pictures still, though all the 
 statues are gone, and with her tiny chapel at one end, 
 deprived of all its ornaments, nothing remaining but her 
 little altar. But though the <house has suffered from those 
 who have succeeded her in the possession of it, the grounds 
 are all most wild and beautiful : in the middle of them 
 is a little temple dedicated to Cupid, than the situation 
 of which you can imagine nothing more delicious, close to 
 a pretty rivulet, the banks of which are covered with the 
 most flourishing rhododendrons and azaleas, and quantities 
 
 of beautiful flowers, which seem to grow quite wild 
 
 French people in general seem much more ready to talk of 
 the Emperor and Empress than of Louis XVI. and Marie 
 Antoinette. It is a curious specimen of French character
 
 28 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 that during the bloody days of the Revolution, when 
 numbers were every day guillotined, a mock guillotine was 
 placed at the corner of most of the streets, and as fast as 
 real heads were chopped off in one part of the town, Punch 
 was guillotined in ridicule in another. 
 
 "June 8. One cannot much wonder that the French 
 should regret Bonaparte. There is hardly a part of the 
 town, which is very handsome, of which we are not told 
 ' 1'Empereur 1'a fait,' and the only parts which want anything 
 are those which are despoiled of what he placed there. . . . 
 St. Cloud is enchanting, and one cannot imagine how 
 Louis XVIII. can prefer the gloomy Tuileries to this de- 
 lightful spot, where his rooms open on fine lawns and 
 groves of trees down to the banks of the Seine ; yet it is with 
 the greatest difficulty that he can be persuaded to leave 
 Paris whilst his chimneys are swept. 
 
 " Milan, July 17. Here we are really in Italy, hearing the 
 sweet sounds of the Italian tongue, and having been intro- 
 duced to Italian roofs and to lovely Italian vineyards, 
 hung in festoons like the wreaths of a grand festival. . . . 
 The sun had set when we reached the Lake of Como, but 
 its rays still illumined all the mountains, which rise abruptly 
 from the water. There was a gentle swell ; the splashing of 
 the oars and the rippling of the waves was the only sound 
 heard. Some of the mountains gradually assumed the dark 
 shades of twilight, whilst others were still tinged with the 
 last rays of the sun. In this delightful scene imagine a 
 moon more clear, more beautiful than any you ever saw, 
 rising in a sky of the most lovely blue, and reflecting its 
 silver light far upon the lake. You would be quite en 
 chanted with the moons of Italy ; the sky and atmosphere 
 are so excessively clear, the deep blue makes the moon still 
 more beautiful, and in the lake one side is most brilliantly 
 illuminated, whilst the other remains in darkness."
 
 STOKE, ALDERLEY, AND HODNET. 29 
 
 M. L. to MlSS HlBBERT. 
 
 "Stoke, Oct. 20, 1818. After an absence of nearly six 
 months, a return to one's home is not at all disagreeable. 
 For the first day I could hardly fancy where I was, and now 
 that I find out that I am really at Stoke, I begin to fancy 
 all that I have seen a delightful dream too delightful to 
 have been true. When I left Stoke I left it full of hopes 
 and expectations which have been more than fulfilled and 
 surpassed; not a cloud has obscured the bright sunshine 
 of a tour the most delightful that could be taken, and to me 
 infinitely endeared by being enjoyed with the two people I 
 love best my sister and Edward Penrhyn. In short, I 
 cannot imagine it possible for any one to enjoy more perfect 
 happiness than I have done for the last six months 'les 
 plus beaux de ma vie.' It is well that you are away from me, 
 or your ears would be perfectly stunned with the never- 
 ceasing Ranz des Vaches or Tyrolean airs echoed through 
 the house, and your eyes would be quite wearied in always 
 seeing Switzerland, Italy, or the Rhine on my table in the 
 form of sketches and journals. 
 
 " Nov. ] 2. I am still wild about the Ranz des Vaches. 
 Every day sees me at the top of the field making the air 
 resound with the calling of my cows, but they answer not to 
 my call ; no little bell tinkles as they feed on their green 
 pastures, and it is a most extended stretch of my imagina- 
 tion to transform the flooded meadows into a beautiful lake, 
 the wooden barns into Alpine chalets, and the pointed 
 clouds into snowy Alps ; but still the remembrance is there, 
 and how dear, how delightful it is to me ! 
 
 " Dec. 14, 1818. My brothers and I have had such a 
 pleasant visit at Hodnet ! There were only Mr. and Mrs. 
 R. Heber, Mr. Heber, and Mr. Augustus Hare there. The 
 latter is the oddest and most agreeable person I have seen 
 for a very long time very clever and enthusiastic, but quite
 
 30 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 unlike other people, which is a relief sometimes, for every- 
 day people are so common in this world. I was very happy 
 in reading some of my German with the dear Reginald, and 
 found myself infinitely advanced since the last time I read 
 with him." 
 
 " March 25, 1819. There is something in the feel and 
 appearance of a bright sunny spring day which makes one 
 feel pleased with everybody and everything in spite of one- 
 self. It gives an elastic spring to one's feelings, which is 
 very delightful, and the sun seems to light upon the bright 
 side of every prospect and recollection, and to leave in 
 oblivion every less pleasing part. I have been spending 
 two whole days with the Reginald Hebers ; he was very, 
 very delightful, and our evenings were most snug and com- 
 fortable. Reginald Heber made songs for us as fast as we 
 could sing them." 
 
 11 Alder ley Rectory, May 10, 1819. We live here in 
 such perfect retirement and tranquillity that it is more like 
 Stoke than Alderley, and I enjoy excessively the exemption 
 from all interruption to the happiness of my life here. I 
 believe you will not have any difficulty in imagining how 
 great that happiness is, in the society of two people that one 
 loves excessively, with children that are as interesting to one 
 as if they were one's own, and with all the luxury of deli- 
 cious spring weather in beech woods and green fields. I 
 would defy you to tantalize me with the greatest temptations 
 London could offer ; as far as happiness, real true happi- 
 ness is concerned, nothing in London could present to me 
 half as much as one perfectly retired uninterrupted day at 
 Alderley." 
 
 The autumn of 1819 was spent by Maria Leycester in 
 travelling through Scotland with her brother Edward in a 
 gig considered a most adventurous enterprise for a young
 
 STOKE, ALDERLEY, AND HODNET. 31 
 
 lady in those days seeing Arran, Staffa, and a great part 
 of the Highlands, and paying visits at Blair Athol and Tay- 
 mouth, at both of which places they fell in with Prince 
 Leopold, for whose recent bereavement great interest was 
 then excited. 
 
 M. L. to C. S. 
 
 " KenmorC) Sept. 13, 1819. It was by the most curious 
 piece of good fortune that we arrived at Blair the very day 
 that Prince Leopold came there. Thomas was sent on 
 before us with my father's letter and a card to the Duke of 
 Athol, and in great curiosity to know the result, we arrived 
 at the inn, and found our answer awaiting us. They should 
 be very happy to see us at dinner at seven o'clock, and were 
 very sorry not to have it in their power to offer us beds. I 
 was obliged to summon up all my courage at the idea of 
 being ushered into an immense party of utter strangers with 
 no other chaperon than Edward, and wished the day over 
 many times, especially as I had little power, with the 
 contents of our small gig-box, of making myself sufficiently 
 dressed for such a party. However, there was nothing now 
 to be done ; the chaise came to the door, and we were soon 
 rattled down to the castle. At the entrance, we were received 
 by the piper, dressed in a very handsome complete High- 
 land costume. He showed us into the hall, where we were 
 met by a very fine gentleman, who, in the most awful 
 silence, preceded us through many long passages, and up 
 a flight of stairs to the drawing-room. At the door, we 
 were met by the Duke, who, after inquiring a little about 
 the difference in our names, which had puzzled him much, 
 led us into the room. Fancy my unhappy situation, with a 
 most formidable circle of ladies before me at one end of the 
 room, and a crowd of gentlemen at the other. Fortunately 
 the Duchess was near the door, and I was quickly presented
 
 32 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 to her, and, I believe, to the Prince, who was seated by her ; 
 but I really have no recollection of what was before me at 
 that moment. The Duke then led me to a chair, by some 
 of the ladies, and I was very happy to find myself seated, 
 after being introduced to nine in succession. Dinner was 
 soon announced, and the Duke assigned me to the care of 
 Colonel Grant, whose grey hairs were rather comforting to 
 me. On my other hand, I found seated next me at dinner, 
 a pretty and very unaffected girl, who, in the course of 
 dinner, assisted me in discovering the names of all the 
 party. . . . First let me introduce you to his Royal 
 Highness Prince Leopold. He is very dark, very hand- 
 some, and when listening to conversation, he looks under 
 his eyes very much ; but there is something in his manner 
 particularly graceful and charming, and quite unaffected, 
 though with a great appearance of depression. His suite 
 consisted of Baron Hardenbroke, a complete German in 
 appearance, with a large nose, and of a circumference which 
 looked as if eating, drinking, and sleeping were his sole 
 occupation ; Sir Robert Gardiner, a courtier-like man ; and 
 Dr. Stockmar, the physician. Besides these, there was 
 Lord Huntley, a good-humoured, sprightly little man of 
 about fifty ; Sir John Oswald, a remarkably gentlemanlike 
 and pleasant military man; Lady Oswald, an extremely 
 pretty and sensible young woman, about your age, married 
 at the same time, and with the same number of children. 
 She and her two sisters were nieces of the Duke, one of the 
 latter being my pleasant lively neighbour, and the elder, 
 Miss Murray, excessively pretty. Then there was Lady 
 Emily Murray, wife of Lord James, and daughter of the 
 Duke of Northumberland, fashionable, and with plenty of 
 small-talk; and several other nieces of the Duke and 
 Duchess. Besides these, there was Dr. M'Culloch, a very 
 learned and scientific man, employed in drawing, and
 
 STOKE, ALDERL Y, AND gODXET. 33 
 
 seeming to understand it very thoroughly. I have not 
 yet mentioned the Duke an oldish man, very like Lord 
 Penrhyn in face and size ; or the Duchess, a fine-looking 
 woman, very duchess -like, speaking with a very pretty 
 Scotch accent, and excessively good-natured. These, I 
 think, were the principals of the party before me. Do not 
 you wonder how, out of my gig-seat, I could make myself 
 fit for such a party ? I assure you the Duchess complimented 
 me greatly on my good management. You can have no 
 idea of the excessive kindness of her manner towards us, 
 and she succeeded very soon in making me feel quite com- 
 fortable and at my ease. The evening passed away pleasantly 
 enough, the Prince playing at cards, the others talking in 
 different groups. On Friday morning Edward went off 
 early with all the gentlemen to the mountains to shoot 
 deer. They had little sport, but he says it was beautiful 
 scenery, and very interesting following them and trying to 
 catch them, and the train of Highlanders looked very fine 
 scattered about. The Prince is a great geologist, and 
 was much pleased with finding great curiosity in the rocks, 
 .Sic., and Dr. M'Culloch said he seemed to know a great 
 deal about it. I had some beautiful walks meanwhile with 
 the Miss Murrays. So passed Friday, though I should not 
 omit how much honoured I felt by being spoken to in the 
 evening by the Prince. On Saturday morning he went 
 away. Then they lent me a very nice pony, and sent two 
 servants on horseback to attend us, one to be the guide, the 
 other to hold our horses to see some waterfalls and a lake 
 at some distance from Blair ; and in the evening we had 
 Highland reels. Edward and I intended to go away on 
 Sunday, but the Duchess pressed us so much to- stay, that 
 we willingly gave up our intention, and stayed till to-day. 
 I enjoyed myself excessively the last day or two. We had 
 an addition to the party in two Italians, very handsome, 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 34 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 pleasing young men. The Conte de Velo was a Venetian, 
 well acquainted with Parolini, so we talked a great deal to 
 him ; the other, Marchese Capponi, was a Florentine. 
 There was very little formality, and everybody extremely 
 good-natured ; and I got quite accustomed to all the 
 different titles, and did not feel alarmed lest I should say, 
 ' My Lord ' where I ought to say ' Duke,' &c. ; and I learnt 
 to curtsey in the right place, and, in short, felt very much 
 at home. Lord Huntley made us a very pretty speech about 
 his sorrow that we were not going northwards, that he 
 might have the pleasure of receiving us. It is a very 
 different style of living from the English houses, everything 
 on a magnificent scale, but very little show or decoration, 
 the grounds not at all dressed or ornamented, as in English 
 parks, but very wild and beautiful. I forgot to say that 
 after dinner the first evening the Duchess told us that she 
 had not been able to offer us beds, because she had not 
 been sure how many persons the Prince would bring with 
 him ; but he had brought fewer than she expected, and she 
 was very glad to be able to find two beds for us in con- 
 sequence, so we stayed in the house all the time. It is an 
 immense house in length, and almost the ugliest I ever saw, 
 and without much furniture. 
 
 "As nothing but princes will do for us now, we came to- 
 day to Taymouth, sent up a note to Lady Breadalbane to 
 ask when we might wait upon them, and received for 
 answer that they hoped to see us at dinner, but had no 
 beds. No post-chaises are to be had here, and as it was im- 
 possible for me to go into such a party il/c. : cd for dinner in 
 a gig, I was obliged to give it up with great reluctance, and 
 send Edward alone, and he is now dining with the Prince, 
 Lord Lauderdale, and I don't know who else, and to-morrow, 
 perhaps, they may have beds for us. 
 
 " There has been a grand dinner for the tenants, and I
 
 STOKE, ALDERLEY, AND HODNET. 35 
 
 have been well amused all evening watching them as they 
 assembled in the village before going home, some hundreds 
 of Highlanders, whose dress exceeds in gaiety and variety 
 everything you can imagine : it looked just like a scene in a 
 play, seeing one after another pass out of a gate in the park, 
 dressed in bonnet and kilt, sporran and hose and plaid. 
 There was a very fine scene at Lord Huntley's to surprise 
 the Prince the other day, he was at the top of some high 
 hill, when all of a sudden up started five hundred Highlanders 
 just like Roderick Dhu's troop. 
 
 " It is quite comical how much society we have had. At 
 Fort-William we met with Mr. E. Lomax again, and at 
 Inverness with Mr. Augustus Hare, so we have not had 
 much time to get tired of each other. We get generally 
 envied for our independent and comfortable way of 
 travelling, and nothing can have more enjoyment than we 
 have when it is tolerable weather. 
 
 " Sept. 14. Edward had a very pleasant dinner. We 
 have refused their invitation for to-day, and have been 
 making the tour of Loch Tay instead. To-morrow we go 
 to stay at Taymouth, and shall see the interesting Prince 
 again, as he stays there till Thursday. 
 
 "Sept. 24. I left you last just as we were going to Tay- 
 mouth. That you may go on with us in idea through all 
 our proceedings, I must go back, I suppose, to that time. I 
 \vas exceedingly glad to be spared all the awful entrance 
 into the drawing-room full of strangers, which I had to 
 encounter at Blair, for by going in the morning I made ac- 
 quaintance with all the ladies, and felt much more at home 
 amongst them. The dinner presented nothing formidable 
 to me. Would you know our party? Prince Leopold and 
 suite to begin with, and I must tell you that when he came 
 into the room before dinner he came across to me, and said 
 in his sweet manner, ' How do you do, Miss Leycester ? I
 
 36 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 was not aware that you were here ;' and then he went to 
 Edward and inquired from him why I had not come with 
 him the first day to Taymouth, and whether he had been 
 back to Blair to fetch me. He has that happy faculty for a 
 prince of never forgetting anything. There was his great 
 friend Lord Lauderdale, an odd-looking little man, dressed 
 like a groom, yet quite the gentleman in his manner, and 
 with a very intelligent countenance and style of conversation, 
 Sir Peter and Lady Mary Murray, Sir Niel and Lady 
 Menzies, and Mr. Douglas Kinnaird. We had a very agree- 
 able dinner, not certainly from the ladies' agreeableness, but 
 from Lord Lauderdale, Mr. Kinnaird, and the Prince. I 
 was fortunate enough to sit opposite his Royal Highness, and 
 he talked a great deal, and told many anecdotes of Bona- 
 parte, &c. In the evening we had music, dancing, and 
 cards, and the Prince joined in singing 'Auld Lang Syne' 
 with Miss Murray : he has a very fine bass voice, and sang 
 with much taste and a thorough knowledge of music. I 
 was so sorry that there was none of Don Giovanni there for 
 him to sing, for he seemed so well acquainted with that, and 
 hummed it so well, that he would have sung more, I daresay, 
 but unfortunately Lady Elizabeth Campbell was from home, 
 and had taken all her music with her. 
 
 " Thursday morning was beautifully fine. We breakfasted 
 with the Prince at seven o'clock, and afterwards he embarked 
 with some of the party in a boat on Loch Tay. I went 
 with Lady Breadalbane in her carriage to meet them at the 
 other end of the Loch, fifteen miles off, at a very pretty cot- 
 tage of Lord Breadalbane's. We arrived before the boat. A 
 cold dinner was prepared, and when the Prince landed, a 
 troop of Highlanders, preceded by bagpipes playing and 
 colours flying, escorted him up to the cottage. At two 
 o'clock he left Auchmoor, the cottage, and proceeded on his 
 journey to Callendar, and it seemed really quite a blank
 
 STOKE, ALDERLEY, AND HODNET. 37 
 
 when he was gone, his manner is so very engaging and 
 pleasant. We had a capital specimen of a Highland 
 chieftain in the Laird of MacNab, who came to wait upon 
 the Prince in full chieftain dress, eagle plumes in his 
 bonnet, &c. He was a fine-looking man, and seemed to 
 consider himself by far the greatest person in the com- 
 pany. . . . 
 
 " On Friday we left Taymouth and proceeded to Dunkeld 
 and then to Loch Katrine. Every step of the way from 
 Callendar, as we traced the progress of Roderick's cross of 
 fire, was interesting, and I cannot tell you how every bush 
 and tree, every copse and mound, seemed animated, or 
 how exactly Scott has pictured the character and style of 
 scenery. I expected to be disappointed from having so 
 high an idea of Loch Katrine in my own mind, but never 
 were expectations of beauty more fully realised. I have 
 enjoyed no day so much on our tour as this one : we spent 
 many hours on the lake and in the Trosachs, scrambling up 
 Ellen's Isle, visiting the pebbly beach, the aged oak, &c., 
 and feeling every line in the ' Lady of the Lake ' echoed in 
 one's own sense of great delight. It is quite curious how 
 completely it is all considered as reality by the people of the 
 place, and you are shown with as much gravity where the 
 gallant grey was lost, and where Fitz James or Ellen stood, 
 as if they had been real persons and real events. 
 
 " We have since had another interesting day on Loch 
 Awe, the scenery in which ' Rob Roy' is laid. We had an 
 introduction to Dr. Grahame, who went with us, and as 
 he had been with Walter Scott there before 'Rob Roy' 
 was written, he knew all the spots he particularly noticed 
 then, and has since most accurately described. He showed 
 us the rock from which Morris was thrown, the tree by 
 which Baillie Jarvie hung, and the beautiful spot where 
 Helen Macgregor gave her breakfast, which Scott has
 
 38 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 described quite with minute accuracy. Here Dr. Grahame 
 said Walter Scott sat without speaking for twenty minutes, 
 looking at the waterfall and rocks. It is a wonderful power 
 of sketching in his own mind a scene as accurately as any 
 drawing could render it, and describing afterwards." 
 
 M. L. to MISS HlBBERT. 
 
 "Stoke Rectory, Oct. 24. I have not yet told you of the 
 pleasantest part of our tour, our visit to Walter Scott. He 
 lives about three miles from Melrose, and our first day's 
 journey from Edinburgh was to his house. We had a letter 
 to him from Reginald Heber, and Mr. Scott persuaded us 
 to stay three days with him, during which time we had full 
 opportunity of becoming acquainted with him. We were 
 the only strangers, and therefore had his conversation all to 
 ourselves, and most highly were we gratified. He is un- 
 affected and simple in his manner to the greatest degree, 
 and at first his countenance only bespeaks good humour ; 
 but mention any subject that interests him, and he lights up 
 in an instant into fire and animation. He is a kind of 
 person one could not feel afraid of for a moment. What- 
 ever subject you begin is the same to him ; he has something 
 entertaining to tell on every one, and the quickness with 
 which he catches up everything that is passing, even at the 
 other end of the room, is surprising. His family consists of 
 a very insignificant little wife, a French woman, quite in- 
 ferior to him, and his daughters, who are fine sensible, 
 clever girls, quite brought up by him. The eldest sang 
 Jacobite songs and border ballads to us with such spirit 
 and enthusiasm, that it was delightful, and their love for 
 Scotland makes them quite worthy of it. Their chief 
 delight is in the Border stories and traditions, in which they 
 are very rich. His house is built by himself, and is very 
 odd and picturesque. There is a little armoury with painted
 
 STOKE, ALDERLEY, AND HODNET. 39 
 
 glass windows, and the walls and chimneypiece covered with 
 antiquities Claverhouse's pistol, Rob Roy's gun and purse, 
 Highland arms, targets, and claymores, quaighs, thumb- 
 screws, trophies from Waterloo, ancient armour in short, 
 it is the most interesting and curious little room. 
 
 "Then at every step about the house. you come to some 
 curious thing. He has got the gate of the Old Tolbooth. 
 and the great keys which have locked up so many victims, 
 and the real tower, removed to his house. But I have no 
 room for more about Walter Scott now, except that we came 
 away quite enchanted with the poet, and still more with the 
 man." 1 
 
 "Jan. 17, 1820. All last week Charles and I passed at 
 Hodnet, and I need not say if we enjoyed it. Only Miss 
 Heber was there, and Mr. Stow, a friend of Reginald's who 
 is at present living at Hodnet as his curate. Of this latter 
 person I must say a little more, for I never met with any 
 one so like Edward Stanley as he is, no less in his jet black 
 eyes, eyebrows, and hair, than in the energy and enthusiasm 
 of his character, the extent of his information on every sub- 
 ject, and the excessive quickness and activity of his mind 
 and body. After this description I need not say whether 
 he was an addition to the party. We had every kind of 
 amusement in the evenings in dancing, singing, and acting. 
 Reginald Heber and Mr. Stow are both excellent actors, 
 and we acted a French proverbe one night, and the ' Chil- 
 dren in the Wood ' another, forming in ourselves both the 
 performers and the audience, and very amusing it was. It 
 tvas all extempore, and our dresses we got up in a few 
 minutes at the time, so there was no trouble attending it, 
 no spectators to alarm us, and perfect unanimity and good- 
 humour to make it enjoyable. In the mornings one of the 
 party read Scott's new novel, ' Ivanhoe,' aloud to the 
 others . . ."
 
 4 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 Maria Leycester's religious impressions became much 
 strengthened about this time by the opening of a corre- 
 spondence on spiritual subjects with her friend Lucy Stanley 
 an intercourse which was continued through their whole 
 lives. On January 6, 1820, she had first written : 
 
 M. L. to L. A. S. 
 
 " I cannot tell how much pleasure it gives me to 
 think that you have become interested in that subject, 
 which to those who think seriously about it must be the 
 most interesting that can be found the comfort, the assist- 
 ance, the support it affords, are so far beyond that which 
 anything else can give, that, having once found it, I am not 
 afraid you should forsake it. For my own sake, too, I am 
 glad, for I always feel a great reluctance to express to another 
 person feelings which I am not sure that they will perfectly 
 understand ; and I feel, and I daresay you have felt this 
 far more with regard to religion than to anything else. 
 There is a sacredness about it which prevents one entering 
 upon it except where it will be entirely entered into where 
 there can be no mistake about the nature of one's feelings. It 
 is not a feeling which can be explained ; it must be felt, as 
 that which leads one to aspire to an ambition higher far 
 than we can find here, as that which affords a noble and 
 exalted motive for every exertion . . ." 
 
 In March, 1820, a great sorrow came to the family at 
 Stoke, in the sudden death of Charles Leycester, from 
 what was not then known as diphtheria. To his sister this 
 grief was aggravated by her not being permitted to see him 
 for fear of infection, but he was most devotedly nursed by 
 Mrs. Oswald Leycester.
 
 STOKE, ALDERLEY, AND HODNET. 4! 
 
 M. L. to Miss L. H. and L. A. S. 
 
 "Stoke, March 29, 1820. It was so sudden, so unex- 
 pected, that I was almost stunned, and hardly knew what I 
 felt for a time. We had been so peculiarly happy together 
 that I could not believe in the danger to the very last. 
 Every recollection from my earliest years, every interest, 
 every prospect, every pleasure, was united with him. For 
 the last three months we have never been separated, and 
 there is not a room or a thing in the house which does not 
 recall him to my memory, and make me feel in its utmost 
 bitterness the dreadful vacancy. But I feel it is the hand 
 of God, a means for leading us more to Him who has given 
 us all ; and his mind was so pure, his thoughts so serious, 
 and he was so convinced that he should not live long, that 
 I feel confident he was prepared. I saw him after his spirit 
 had fled, and his countenance was so heavenly and beauti- 
 ful, that it was the greatest comfort to me; and when I 
 think of it now I feel how selfish is all my sorrow. I have 
 yet one brother left, and many, many blessings but Charles, 
 dear Charles ! 
 
 "April 14. I can feel quite composed now in writing or 
 thinking of him I have lost ; but when they talk of other 
 things I feel a sinking a weight that I cannot overcome ; 
 and if my thoughts can be diverted from the subject 
 which is almost ever present to it, it is a bitter return to 
 it. We have been so uninterruptedly blest that I feel it 
 is good for us to be afflicted, to lead our hearts to Him 
 who hath given us all. I was too confident, too pre- 
 sumptuous in the expectation of a continuance of such 
 happiness, and now to Him who gave and hath taken away 
 I have turned for consolation and support and oh ! if that 
 feeling of nothingness of resignation into the hands of an 
 Almighty Will could last which we feel in the hour of afflic- 
 tion how different we should be ! No one who has felt the
 
 42 MEMORIALS OF A QUIEI LIFE. 
 
 purifying, elevating effect of such feelings could wish to put 
 them away or return to the same round of worldly occupa- 
 tions or pursuits, without one thought beyond the present 
 hour or day. 
 
 " There is no bitterness, no harshness, in our grief. It is 
 so softened down by every recollection, so chastened, so 
 subdued, that I cannot bear to put it away or try to forget 
 it, and those who wish to divert and turn one's attention to 
 other things, know little of the feeling of real affliction, 
 which is of so elevating a nature that it cannot be wrong to 
 indulge in it. There is something so sacred and hallowed 
 in one's affection for one who is called to another world, it 
 seems to unite one's heart with eternity to refine it from 
 any exclusive attachment to earth. I feel fears mingled 
 with my love for those who are left, and shudder at the 
 thought of their being taken too, but I can think of him 
 without fear or dread, and feel that the affection which was 
 begun and cherished here will be perfected hereafter. 
 
 " I cannot bear to think of the time when the impression 
 of Charles will be less strong than it is now. It is such a 
 pleasure to fancy I see him by me to remember, till recol- 
 lection almost becomes reality, everything he said, the tone 
 of his voice, the expression of his eye, to imagine he is not 
 dead but parted for a time, even though the illusion is very 
 short." 
 
 The summer of 1821 was spent by Miss Leycester with 
 the Stanleys in Anglesea. 
 
 M. L. to MRS. REGINALD HEBER. 
 
 " Penrhos, August 13, 1821. The last has been a most 
 interesting week. It was just before dinner on Monday 
 that the report was spread through the house that the blue 
 flag was hoisted on the signal station on Holyhead moun-
 
 STOKE, ALDERLEY, AND HODNET. 43 
 
 tain. This we knew to signify that a number of ships were 
 in sight. In an instant the balcony was filled and every 
 telescope in requisition, and having ascertained the fact to 
 be so, we went to dinner. We had not half finished dinner 
 when a gun was heard, announcing the red flags being sub- 
 stituted for the blue ones. The dinner-table and house 
 were speedily deserted, and we hurried to Holyhead, and 
 took our station at the top of the lighthouse which is at the 
 end of the pier. There we waited for some hours, watching 
 a tremendous thunderstorm, and seeing all the vessels in 
 harbour sail out to meet the King. It grew darker and 
 darker, and at last we were obliged to return home in 
 despair. About 2 A.M. Sir John was waked by a letter 
 from Lord Anglesea, saying that the King was anchored in 
 the bay, but had not yet decided on landing. At six we all 
 sallied forth to see the beautiful squadron, consisting of two 
 fine frigates, four large yachts, and sloops of war and in- 
 numerable cutters. The morning was spent in hearing 
 divers reports of what the King intended to do, sending him 
 presents of fruit and flowers, which were, I believe, very ac- 
 ceptable, and watching him while he was walking on deck, 
 and visiting the Active and Liffy. Whilst on board the 
 Liffy, intelligence came that the King designed to land. We 
 hurried back to the lighthouse, from the balcony of which 
 we had the most extensive and uninterrupted view imagin- 
 able. The scene which followed was really magnificent. It 
 was a most beautiful day, a bright sun shining upon all the 
 vessels, and the sea a deep dark green colour. At four 
 o'clock the guns of Holyhead and Penrhos batteries fired 
 the royal salute a sign that the King had got into his barge ; 
 in an instant every yard was manned, every vessel covered 
 with flags of every colour and form, and every gun was 
 fired from each vessel, giving one in some degree an idea of 
 what an engagement must be, as the clouds of smoke and
 
 4-1 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 fire issued from each and echoed through the bay. The 
 sun shining on the flags, and little regiments of men on 
 every yard, and beautiful cutters sailing about in all direc- 
 tions, really exceeded all one could imagine in beauty. By 
 degrees the royal barge approached, attended by the boats 
 belonging to each ship, the crew dressed in black, scarlet, 
 and gold, the oars tipped with gold, and the royal standard 
 at one end. It reached the shore, and as the King placed his 
 foot on the first step, the guns fired, the band (which at- 
 tended in one of the boats, struck up ' God save the King,' 
 every hat and handkerchief was waved, and loud hurrahs 
 and cheers came from the crowds of people assembled on 
 the pier. It was a moment never to forget, for every recol- 
 lection of individual folly and unworthiness was banished 
 from one's mind in the overpowering feeling and enthusiasm 
 of the moment, and the deep silence which followed the 
 burst of applause when he landed on the pier was very 
 striking. There, in the midst of the two rows of people, Sir 
 John knelt to receive him. The King made a speech ex- 
 pressive of his gratitude for the attention shown to him, and 
 his pleasure at seeing the country of which he had so long 
 borne the name. Sir John then read the Address, again 
 knelt and kissed hands, and the King then proceeded to his 
 carriage, attended by Lord Anglesea, followed by several 
 carriages, and the crowd cheering all the way as he drove 
 slowly through a triumphal arch erected at the end of the 
 pier. 
 
 " On Wednesday the King returned from Plas Newydd, 
 and the greater part of the scene was again repeated. On 
 Thursday morning a King's messenger arrived with the news 
 of the Queen's death. We saw the despatch was carried 
 down to him in his cabin. Of what might be his feelings 
 we of course knew nothing ; every outward mark of decency 
 has been shown, all the flags being, by his order, put half
 
 STOKE, ALDERLEY, AND HODNET. 45 
 
 mast high, and he not appearing on deck at all, and dining 
 alone in his cabin. One could not help a feeling of melan- 
 choly at the idea that while he was receiving the homage 
 of his people, surrounded by all that could be of grandeur 
 and magnificence, his poor Queen was lying on her death- 
 bed, deserted by all who had any natural ties to lament or 
 regret her loss." 
 
 In December, 1822, the Bishopric of Calcutta was 
 offered to Reginald Heber, with but little hope that he 
 would be willing to sacrifice the comforts and interests of 
 his Shropshire living for a mitre on the banks of the Ganges. 
 He was, however, led to its acceptance by the consciousness 
 of how wide a sphere of usefulness he would reject in its 
 refusal, and almost immediately began to prepare for his 
 departure from Hodnet. Greatly as his approaching loss 
 was felt by many in the neighbourhood, the blow was in- 
 comparably most severe to Maria Leycester, who for many 
 years had been like a sister to him, and who had derived 
 her chief home-pleasures from his society, and that of Mrs. 
 Heber. 
 
 M. L.'s JOURNAL. 
 
 "Feb. 8, 1823. The extreme suffering I felt on first 
 hearing of the intended departure of the Hebers for India, 
 has now passed. Those vividly painful feelings seldom con- 
 tinue long in the same form, when the necessity for exertion, 
 variety of society, and change of place, call upon the mind 
 for fresh thoughts. But though the immediate shock is 
 over, and my mind is by time habituated to the idea, so that 
 I can now think and write of it calmly, it is no less a 
 source of the deepest sorrow to me. Nor is it merely in
 
 46 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 the pain of parting with such friends that I shall feel it. It 
 will be in the daily loss I shall experience of kind and 
 affectionate neighbours, of an interest always kept up, of 
 the greatest part of my home enjoyments. 
 
 " I had so little foreseen, at any time, the possibility of 
 this event, that I was totally unprepared for it, and although 
 now it appears quite natural that Reginald, who is so pecu- 
 liarly fitted for the situation, should wish for it, I could 
 hardly at first believe it to be possible. . . . The remem- 
 brance of the last two years rises up before me so much the 
 more endeared from the thought that those happy days will 
 never again return. There is nothing out of my own family 
 which could have made so great a blank in my existence as 
 this will do. For so many years have they been to me as 
 brother and sister, giving to me so much pleasure, so much 
 improvement. It will be the breaking up of my thoughts 
 and habits and affections for years, and scarcely can I bear 
 to think that in a few months those whom I have loved so 
 dearly will be removed from me far into another world 
 for such does India appear at this distance." 
 
 " April 3. So much has one feeling occupied every 
 thought for the last two months, that it seems but a day 
 since I wrote the last few lines with this only difference, 
 that the reality is so much more bitter than the anticipation, 
 and that the certainty of my loss is now brought back to me 
 by the knowledge that I shall never see them again, here or 
 at Hodnet. The chord is snapped asunder, and I feel in 
 its full force the effect it must have on my future happiness. 
 I look around in vain for a bright spot to which to turn. 
 All that I valued most, out of my own family, will be at 
 once taken from me, and it will leave a blank that cannot 
 be filled. To find a friend like Reginald, with a heart so 
 kind, so tender, and a character so heavenly, must be utterly 
 impossible, and the remembrance of all the interest he has
 
 STOKE, ALDERLEY, AND HODNET. 47 
 
 shown in me, and all his kindness, makes the feeling of his 
 loss very difficult to bear. . . ." 
 
 August i, 1823. This evening I have, for the first 
 time, ventured to go by Hodnet It must be done, and 
 it was better alone than with others. So, having dined early, 
 I took a long ride one of our old rides which I have so 
 often taken with him. There stood the poor deserted Rec- 
 tory, with its flowers and its fields the green gate, which I 
 have so seldom passed before unopened, all looking exactly 
 the same as in days of happiness, and now how changed 
 from their former merriment to solitude and silence ! Those 
 beautiful park-fields where I have so often walked, and 
 where I shall never walk again, lay shining in the evening 
 sun, looking most tranquil and peaceful, as if in a world so 
 beautiful unhappiness could not be found. Scarcely could 
 I believe, as I looked around me, that all were gone with 
 whom I had enjoyed so many happy days there, and that 
 those same trees and fields were alone remaining to speak 
 to me of the past, every step recalling to me some word or 
 look. As I rode along, recollections crowded on me so fast 
 that I felt hardly conscious of the present and its gloom, in 
 living over again a period of such happiness. . . ." 
 
 But the feelings of grief with which Maria Leycester 
 watched the departure of the Hebers for India, did not 
 solely arise from the pain of losing their society. In losing 
 them she lost al?o the only means of communication with 
 another, who hail become, in the last few years, even more 
 ly endeared to her, and w:th whom her acquaintance 
 had began and ripened under their roof, and been fostered 
 by their sympathy and protection. It was in the autumn of 
 1819, upon her return from Scotland, that she first met with 
 Mr. Martin Stow, a person -.vho v.as to have much in-
 
 4 8 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 fluence over her future life. Though regarding him as " a 
 mere country curate," she was at once interested in him by 
 the likeness which many perceived between him and her 
 beloved brother-in-law, Edward Stanley. Early in January, 
 1820, she spent a week at Hodnet Rectory, during which 
 they were constantly together, sharing in the many amuse- 
 ments of that happy home, in all of which Mr. Stow was a 
 most willing and able assistant, and in which his high spirits 
 seemed to communicate themselves to every member of the 
 party, and to spread a spirit of life and vivacity around 
 him. In the following summer, the acting of Mr. Heber's 
 little play of Blue Beard again assembled the party at 
 Hodnet, where there was always the most enjoyable kind of 
 society, no form or dulness, but conversation of every kind, 
 sometimes playful and sometimes serious ; a bright colouring 
 seemed to invest everything, and those who were admitted 
 into the little circle of intimates of which Reginald Heber 
 was the centre, found a charm in every occupation and 
 pursuit which they had never felt before. It was not to be 
 wondered at, that, meeting on such terms, two persons 
 whose pursuits and tastes were similar, should become in- 
 timate. 
 
 It was in the midst of this happiness (March, i8.".o) that 
 Charles Leycester's death occurred after a single week's 
 illness. His sister at the time was almost crushed by 
 the blow, and the first person to whom she turned with 
 interest, when she began to recover from the stunning force 
 of sorrow, was Mr. Stow, who had been the intimate friend 
 of the brother she had lost ; and in the following summer 
 in her rides with her brother Edward, he constantly joined
 
 STOKE, ALDERLEY, AXD HODNET. 49 
 
 them, and the three rambled together over the woods at 
 Hawkestone, discovering new paths, and enjoying their 
 beauties. 
 
 In the following summer of 1821 Maria Leycester was 
 constantly urged by the Hebers to form one of their party, 
 and her visits to Hodnet Rectory were of almost daily 
 occurrence. Mr. Stow was generally there ; the walks with 
 him and Reginald Heber had an indescribable charm, and 
 the affection which had gradually and unconsciously been 
 drawing their hearts together, could not but daily gain 
 strength. 
 
 In June, Maria Leycester was again staying at Hodnet, 
 at the time of the christening of the little Emily Heber, at 
 which she and Mr. Stow knelt side by side as proxy god- 
 father and godmother. During this visit he begged per- 
 mission to make known to her family the feeling with which 
 he regarded her, but his advances were coldly received by 
 them, and both his daughter and Mr. Stow became aware 
 how impossible it would be ever to obtain Mr. Leycester's 
 consent to their union. Without this she would not marry. 
 In that autumn Mr. Stow accepted the British chaplaincy at 
 Genoa, whence he maintained a constant correspondence 
 with the Hebers, through whom a certain degree of com- 
 munication was preserved. 
 
 In February, 1822, Mr. Stow was recalled to England by 
 his father's death, and came again to Hodnet, bringing his 
 sister with him, and he and Miss Leycester met with that 
 calmness of intercourse which arose from no change in the 
 degree of their attachment, but from the confirmed steadi- 
 ness with which it had now become part of themseJves, and 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 50 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 which it had acquired in the experience of many months 
 separation, and when he returned to Genoa it was with a 
 mutual though unspoken assurance of unchangeable affec- 
 tion on either side. 
 
 The following summer was passed by Maria Leycester in 
 a happy state of tranquillity, not unenlivened by hope. 
 The summer was a very hot one, and she passed whole 
 days in the open air, living under the lime-trees, which 
 crown the steep mossy bank at Stoke Rectory, with her 
 table and books, reading " Spenser's Fairy Queen " for the 
 first time, listening to the Hodnet bells, and existing in a 
 world of her own, where all was peace and happiness. The 
 Hebers were at this time in London, Reginald Heber 
 having been appointed preacher at Lincoln's Inn ; but every 
 evening, when it became cool enough, Maria Leycester 
 would mount her horse Psyche and ride over to Hodnet 
 Rectory to visit their little Emily, who rewarded her with 
 her many smiles. 
 
 It was in January, 1822, that Maria Leycester was first 
 told that Reginald Heber had accepted the bishopric of 
 Calcutta. A thunderclap could not have stunned her more. 
 To his preferment in England she had long and anxiously 
 looked forward as involving her own prospects also, but 
 for this she was wholly unprepared. It was cutting off 
 at once not only all present connection with Mr. Stow, but 
 all hopes of future preferment ; it was taking away the only 
 society in which she felt any interest, and the only friends 
 who had ever been her support and consolation in her 
 separation from him, both in their sympathy, and the means 
 of communication they afforded. Whichever way she looked,
 
 STOKE, ALDERLEY, AND HODNET. 51 
 
 her loss appeared heavier. On their return to Hodnet 
 every visit became more and more melancholy, as every- 
 thing around reminded her of their approaching departure. 
 The whole of Passion Week was spent by them at Stoke 
 Rectory, and they were then accompanied by Mrs. Heber's 
 favourite cousin, Augustus Hare, with whom Maria Leycester 
 had become intimately acquainted during his many visits at 
 Hodnet, and who was also the dearest friend of Mr. Stow. 
 It was a party that in happier times would have been 
 delightful, but it was now filled with too bitter recollections 
 and anticipations. The spirits, however, in which Reginald 
 Heber spoke and thought of this new sphere opened to him 
 did much to turn their thoughts towards the interests and 
 occupations of his future life. Each day was employed in 
 walks to Hodnet Rectory, which looked more and more 
 deserted as it was gradually emptied of all its contents, and 
 little left but the bare walls of the rooms which had been 
 the scene of so much enjoyment. On Easter Sunday the 
 whole party went to Hodnet Church, where Reginald Heber 
 preached a beautiful and deeply affecting farewell sermon, 
 in which he expressed his anxiety to partake with his friends 
 for the last time of the Holy Sacrament, which he after- 
 wards administered to them, " as strengthening that feeling 
 in which alone they would in future be united, till the 
 East and West should alike be gathered as one fold under 
 one Shepherd." On the following day the Hebers left 
 Stoke. Maria Leycester walked up with then to Hodnet 
 for the last time, and through life remembered the kindness 
 of Reginald Heber during that walk the affectionate man- 
 ner in which he tried to soothe her grief at parting with
 
 52 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 them, and to talk of future happy times the assurances he 
 gave her that amidst the new interests of India he should 
 often turn to former friends and think of the days they had 
 passed together and that they should still ever be united 
 in prayer. The whole warmth of his heart was shown in 
 those last moments, till they parted, when he and Mrs. 
 Heber turned in at the gates of Hodnet Hall. 
 
 As Maria Leycester returned to Stoke across Hodnet 
 Heath, Augustus Hare walked with her, and his brother-like 
 sympathy and affection gave her great comfort, and inspired 
 her with the utmost confidence, especially as he alone, 
 except the Hebers, was acquainted with all the circum- 
 stances of her relation to Mr. Stow. He spent the rest of 
 that day at Stoke, while waiting for the coach which was to 
 pass in the evening. 
 
 Meantime, Bishop Heber had made the offer of his 
 Indian chaplaincy to Mr. Stow, who gladly accepted it, in 
 the hope that Miss Leycester might consent to accompany 
 him, and that her family, in the knowledge that she would 
 in this case remain with the Hebers and form part of their 
 family circle, might be induced to assent to their marriage. 
 But these hopes proved entirely fruitless : and when Maria 
 Leycester accompanied the Stanleys to London to see the 
 last of the Hebers, she had an interview with Mr. Stow at 
 Lincoln's Inn, which she quite believed to be a final one. 
 
 The following letters belonging to this period are not 
 without interest to the story : 
 
 * 
 
 REGINALD HEBER to AUGUSTUS W. HARE. 
 
 " Hodnet, March 3, 1823. I take abundant shame to 
 myself, my dear Augustus, for not having sooner answered
 
 STOKE, ALDERLEY, AND HODNET. 53 
 
 one of the most gratifying letters which I have received for 
 many months ; but you will, I am sure, impute my silence 
 to any cause but indifference either to the intelligence which 
 you communicated or to the friendship of the kind com- 
 municator. It was, indeed, a very great and most unex- 
 pected honour which the University conferred on me ; and, 
 perhaps, the distinction of all others which, if it had been 
 named to me, I should have most desired. Yet I will fairly 
 say that I derived more pleasure still from the kind and 
 cordial manner in which you congratulated me, and the 
 renewed conviction which I felt of your regard and favour- 
 able opinion. I heartily wish I may through life retain, 
 and continue to deserve them both. Your cousin and I are 
 here in the midst of packings and leave-takings, both un- 
 pleasant operations, and the latter a very painful one. I do 
 not, indeed, feel so much parental emotion as many people, 
 profess under similar circumstances, and as I myself partly 
 expected I should, in bidding adieu to the stones and trees 
 which I have built and planted. But, besides my mother 
 and sister, and besides the other kind friends with whom I 
 have passed so many hours here, there are among my 
 parishioners many old persons whom I can never expect to 
 meet again, and many, both old and young, who evidently 
 lose me with regret, and testify their concern in a very 
 natural and touching manner. My comfort is that Emily, 
 who is as much regretted as I can be, and who has, if 
 possible, more ties than I have to bind her to England 
 now that the first struggle is over is not only resigned, but 
 cheerful and courageous, and as resolute as I am to look 
 only on the bright side of the prospect." 
 
 MARTIN STOW to AUGUSTUS W. HARE. 
 
 " Feb., 1823. The dream is at an end. In losing the 
 Hebers I have lost Maria Leycester. Not a hope, nor a
 
 54 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 shadow of a hope, can remain. It is not only that Reginald 
 was the only quarter from which I had the least chance of 
 preferment or recommendation, but they were the only links 
 between the Leycesters and myself; they are taken away, 
 and their departure, as far as I am concerned, is utter and 
 absolute ruin. . . . Do not think that I suppose Reginald 
 wrong in going ; far from it. I look upon it as a high and 
 noble self-devotion to the cause of God and the good of 
 mankind ; nor do I know any man whom I would so wil- 
 lingly see at Calcutta. The difficulties to be encountered 
 in India are precisely those with which he is especially 
 qualified to cope obstinacy and prejudice on the one side, 
 and notorious evil living on the other. He is in his own 
 person the confusion of both." 
 
 MARTIN STOW to REGINALD HEBER. 
 
 " Rome. April 10, 1823. The last post brought me your 
 kind letter, and I lose no time in returning you my sincerest 
 thanks for the considerate kindness and attention to my 
 interest which has led you to make me so noble an offer of 
 preferment. ... I do not know whether Maria Leycester 
 may have been aware of your intention, or whether she 
 would regard it as favourable or otherwise to our hopes ; but 
 as I can hardly suppose that you did not mention it to her, 
 or that she was averse to the place, I have ventured to en- 
 close a letter to her father, stating the nature of the prefer- 
 ment in my power, and requesting his permission to declare 
 my affection to Maria. . . ." 
 
 MARTIN STOW to MRS. R. HEBER. 
 
 " Rome, April 14, 1823. Do you think there is any 
 chance of my being able to carry my dearest Maria to India ? 
 I think this would give you pleasure ; we should then have 
 so much to remind us, even on the banks of the Ganges, of
 
 STOKE, ALDERLEY, AND HODNET. 55 
 
 former days of happiness. Her great love for you both 
 would, I think, outweigh any personal objection of her own, 
 but I fear that I have scarcely a hope of her father's consent. 
 . . . The little note you have transmitted from Maria is so 
 mournful, yet so resigned, so evidently without hope, that 
 it almost breaks my heart. . . . Addio, and may God bless 
 you for all you have done, and intend to do, for me." 
 
 AUGUSTUS W. HARE to MRS. R. HEBER. 
 
 "May, 1823. So Stow has accepted! He has written 
 to me to implore me to set before Maria Leycester, not his 
 misery, but the certainty of their love being destroyed, if he 
 goes to India without her ; and to prove to her how happy 
 she would be, making one of that circle in India, which has 
 been so very dear to her in England. He wishes me to see 
 her before his arrival, and as he wishes it, I wish it too. 
 Surely, you can contrive this for me. Excellent as she is, I 
 am sure he deserves her, and I am sure he loves her enough 
 to make ten ordinary husbands. Would it not be a great 
 point to familiarise her mind to the possibility of going to 
 India? So many excellent things are never done, because 
 the parties concerned vote them impossible ' Cela ne se 
 fait pas ' is the only argument to which I can never find an 
 answer. It is out of my power to say how anxious I feel 
 that this matter should be brought to a good issue. Object- 
 less for myself, and loving no one (in the technical sense of 
 the word, for in its more enlarged meaning God knows I 
 love many people, among others, you and Reginald much), 
 all my wishes tend to furthering the love of a friend from 
 whom, during the last twelve years, I have received so 
 many marks of confidence and affection, and some real 
 services that no other, perhaps, could or would have 
 rendered me scoldings, by the way, not a few, among the 
 number."
 
 56 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 The meeting at Lincoln's Inn was not the last. When 
 Mr. Stow was about to leave England, he could not resist 
 the desire of seeing Miss Leycester once more, and followed 
 her to Cheshire. Their last meeting was in the beech-wood 
 at Alderley. Augustus Hare then accompanied his friend 
 into Cheshire, and remained with him till the ist of 
 October, when he sailed for India in the Ganges* with his 
 sister. 
 
 In the following winter, during visits in the neighbourhood 
 of London, Augustus Hare was the only person Miss 
 Leycester had any pleasure in seeing, and she gratefully 
 received his kindness and sympathy. Though he was 
 more reserved and cautious in speaking of the future 
 than he had hitherto been, he talked much of past 
 days, and but to hear and talk of them was sufficient 
 happiness for her. From him she learnt of the safe 
 arrival of the Ganges in India, and of the welfare and 
 well-being of his friend. 
 
 Meantime (in 1823, 1824), Maria Leycester's home life 
 was diversified, and her attention to a certain degree diverted 
 from sorrowful thoughts, by many visits to Knowsley, and by 
 the happy marriage of her brother Edward (Dec. 16, 1823) 
 to Charlotte, eldest daughter of Lord Stanley, and grand- 
 daughter of the twelfth Earl of Derby. 
 
 On the ist of February, 1825, Maria Leycester went to 
 Shavington to visit her friend, Lady Frances Needham, 
 from whom she had long been separated, and to her, whose 
 sympathy she had always received, she spoke much of her 
 prospects and hopes, regardless of the sad tone in which she 
 was answered, and the turn which Lady Frances judiciously
 
 STOKE, ALDERLEY, AND HODNET. 57 
 
 gave to the conversation. The visit was to have lasted 
 some days, but, on the second day, there came a note from 
 Stoke, begging that Miss Leycester would return home 
 immediately. It excited her surprise, but nothing more, 
 till the sudden recollection that Lady Frances had disap- 
 peared from the room on receipt of a similar note, awakened 
 alarm. But in vain did Maria Leycester seek to discover 
 its contents from her friend, and in all the wretchedness of 
 suspense she rode home, feeling an inward conviction that 
 the blow, in some form or other, must come from Alderley, 
 as there was no other quarter from which, in her absence, 
 she imagined her family would have heard. She turned to 
 every possible and impossible shape she thought it could 
 assume, but of the right one never did a moment's suspicion 
 cross her mind. She reached Stoke, and in a few minutes 
 the truth was before her Martin Stow had died of fever at 
 Dacca, on the i;th of July, 1824 ! 
 
 REGINALD HEBER to AUGUSTUS W. HARE. 
 
 " Dela serry River, near Dacca, July 22, 1824. My dear 
 Augustus, Little did I anticipate when we parted, with 
 how heavy a heart I should commence what (I am almost 
 ashamed to say) is my first letter to you. We have lost 
 poor Stow ! He set out with me five weeks since on my 
 visitation, leaving his sister with Emily and her children, 
 who were dissuaded by our medical advisers from accom- 
 panying me on the formidable journey ; but whom we 
 hoped to meet in February next at Bombay, whither they 
 were to proceed by sea, while we found our way across the 
 continent, through Rajpoohana and Malwa. Stow had 
 been seriously ill in Calcutta, of something like a dysentery ; 
 but it was anticipated by everybody that a sail of three
 
 58 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 months on the Ganges, and a subsequent journey to a 
 cooler climate would be of the utmost service to him, and 
 he was not only permitted, but strongly advised by Dr. 
 Abel to accompany me. These favourable expectations 
 seemed verified by the experience of our first fortnight ; the 
 cool breeze of the river seemed to revive him most essen- 
 tially, and his spirits and appetite increased perceptibly, 
 while he took an increasing interest in the wild and seques- 
 tered, but beautiful and luxuriant scenes through which we 
 passed, while threading the great Delta of the Ganges in our 
 way to Dacca. Unhappily, as his strength returned, he 
 became less cautious ; he one evening particularly exposed 
 himself to the sun while yet high, and to the worst miasma 
 which this land of death affords, by running into a marsh 
 after some wild ducks. From that time his disorder re- 
 turned, and he reached Dacca on the 5th of this month 
 so weak and exhausted, as to be carried from the boat to 
 the bedroom prepared for him. The means of cure usually 
 employed were tried without success. He struggled, how- 
 ever, against the complaint with a strength which surprised 
 both his medical attendants and myself, and which long 
 flattered us, alas, with a delusive hope of his recovery. 
 During the three last days of his life, he was fully sensible 
 of his approaching end, and I trust I shall never forget 
 the earnestness of his prayers, the severity and deep con- 
 trition with which he scrutinized all the course of his 
 (surely) innocent and useful life ; the humility and self-abase- 
 ment with which he cast himself on God's mercy through 
 Christ, or the blessed and still brightening hope which 
 after his first mental struggle was over it pleased his 
 gracious Master to send him. He sent his love to you 
 with a request that all his papers might be sent to you ' to 
 do what you thought best with them.' He observed that 
 the annive/sary was just passed of the day in which he
 
 STOKE, ALDERLEY, AND HODNET. 59 
 
 parted with M. L. in the woods of Alderley. ' Dear, dear 
 Maria ! ' he said, ' I hope God is not offended with me for 
 thinking of her in this hour.' He often named his ' poor 
 sister,' recommending her to Emily's care and mine. But 
 all the rest of his time was occupied in praying, with me, 
 or mentally, and in listening to different texts of Scripture, 
 which he took great delight in my reading to him. ' God,' 
 he said on Friday evening ' God and his dear Son are 
 mercifully making this passage more and more easy to me.' 
 He slept very little, being interrupted by constant spasms. 
 At length, in the course of Saturday, a slight wandering 
 came on, though he never ceased to know me, or to express 
 uneasiness if, by any alteration of position, or any other 
 cause, he, for a moment, lost sight of me. His end was 
 visibly fast approaching, and his face had assumed that 
 unequivocal character which belongs to the dying, when he 
 called me closer to him and said in a half whisper, ' Do 
 you think I shall see my poor, poor sister to-night?' I 
 could not help answering, ' It was by no means impossible.' 
 I know not in what sense he meant the question; but, 
 indeed, I cannot think it even unlikely that the spirit of a 
 just man may be permitted for a time to hover over those 
 objects it has loved most tenderly. Some violent but short 
 spasms succeeded, after which he sank into a calm slumber, 
 and a few minutes after twelve, literally breathed his last, 
 without a struggle or groan. I myself closed his eyes, and, 
 with the help of a surgeon (whom, in the forlorn hope of 
 some favourable turn taking place, I had got to remain in 
 the house the last three nights), composed his limbs. It 
 was necessary that we should do this, since the superstition 
 of the wretched people round us had put them to flight. 
 
 " He was buried in the evening of the next day (Sunday, 
 the 1 8th), in the cemetery of the station, which, that day 
 week, I had consecrated. A wild and dismal place it is, as
 
 60 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 ever Christian laid his bones in, at about a mile's distance 
 from the inhabited part of Dacca, but surrounded by ruins 
 and jungle, and containing several tall, ruinous tombs of 
 former residents in the days when the commerce of this 
 province was the most important in India. Some of these 
 have been very handsome, but all are now dilapidated, and 
 overgrown with ivy and the wild fig-tree. There is, however, 
 a high wall, with an old Moorish gateway, which protects the 
 graves effectually from the jackals, and I have given direc- 
 tions for a plain monument to be erected over my poor 
 friend. His illness, his youth, his amiable manners with 
 the few in Dacca who saw him, and his general character, 
 excited a great sensation in the place. Inquiries came 
 every day, with presents of fruit, or often of books, which 
 might elucidate his distemper or amuse him, and similar 
 marks of attention and interest, not only from the English 
 residents, but from the Nawab, from the principal Zemindar 
 of the neighbourhood, and from the Armenian Bishops of 
 Ecmiazin and Jerusalem, whom I met here, engaged in a 
 still larger visitation than my own, of the different churches 
 of their communion in Persia and India. All the English 
 residents, and the officers from the military lines, with a 
 detachment of artillerymen, came, unsolicited, to his 
 funeral. We were the guests of Mr. Masters, the principal 
 judge, whose nephew you may have known at Baliol; 
 and from him more particularly, and from Mr. Mitford, 
 the junior judge, brother to my friend Mitford of Oriel, 
 we received daily and unwearied kindness. Mrs. Mitford, 
 on finding that poor Miss Stow thought of setting off 
 for Dacca to nurse her brother, not only wrote to ask 
 her to their house, but offered to accelerate a journey which 
 Mr. M. and she were meditating to Calcutta, in order to 
 take care of her in the dismal homeward voyage. I trust, 
 however, that my letters would arrive in time to stop her,
 
 STOKE, ALDERLEY, AND HODNET. 6l 
 
 and lest they should not have done so, I am now diverging 
 from the great stream which is my direct course towards 
 Patna, in order to ascertain whether she has really set out, 
 and, if so, to meet and take her at least the greater part of 
 me way back again. 
 
 " Emily had entreated, on hearing the first alarm, that, in 
 the event of poor Stow's death or inability to proceed, I 
 would not refuse her permission to join me at the Rajamehal 
 Hills, and to go with me, at whatever risk, through the rest 
 of the journey ; and I know her so well that, though there 
 will certainly be some circumstances trying to her strength, 
 I am disposed to believe she would suffer more by not being 
 allowed to follow me ; so that, in about a month's time, I 
 may hope to see her and my children. Whether Miss Stow 
 will accompany them, or immediately return to England, 
 I know not; her brother seemed to think she would 
 prefer the former, and I have written to invite her to do 
 so. Yet, alas ! what motive has she now for lingering in 
 India ? 
 
 " This is the second old and valued friend (poor Sir C. 
 Puller was the first, though my intimacy with Stow was far 
 greater) which this cruel climate has within a few months 
 robbed me of. In the meantime, I have great reason for 
 thankfulness that, in all essential points, my own health has 
 remained firm ; that my dear wife, though she has been an 
 invalid, has been so from causes unconnected with the 
 climate ; and that my children are pictures of health and 
 cheerfulness. How long this is to continue, God knows, and 
 I thank Him that my confidence in his mercy and protec- 
 tion has not yet been shaken. Meantime, I am far from 
 repenting my coming out to India, where I am sure I am 
 not idle, and hope I am not useless though I have, alas ! 
 fallen far short of my own good intentions, and have failed, 
 to a greater extent than I expected, in conciliating the
 
 62 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 respective bigots of the High and Low Church parties. 
 But I cannot help feeling most painfully the loss of my most 
 sincerely attached and intelligent friend, to whom, under 
 any difficulty, I could open myself without reserve whose 
 cheerful conversation was delightful to me in health, and to 
 whose affectionate solicitude and prayers I looked forward 
 as a sure resource in sorrow or in sickness. 
 
 " I write this letter from my boat. I am writing also to 
 Mrs. Stanley, to beg her to break the sad tidings to Maria. 
 But I have been so long in my letter to you, that mine to 
 her must be a short one. If you think these details likely 
 to interest them, you may send this letter. God bless you, 
 dear Augustus. 
 
 " Ever yours affectionately, 
 
 " R. CALCUTTA." 
 
 MRS. STANLEY to AUGUSTUS W. HARE. 
 
 " Alderley, Feb. 5, 1825. .... I feel for you truly. I 
 know what you have lost, and how you valued him you have 
 proved too well. I fear there is no hope now, the news 
 coming from two other distinct quarters is only too strong 
 confirmation. I shall be thankful if Maria can be kept in 
 ignorance till not a shadow of doubt remains, for in her 
 present state I should dread anxiety more even than grief 
 
 for her It will be a relief to you to know that Mrs. 
 
 Leycester had the presence of mind to let her mount her 
 horse and ride to Shavington, while she was actually 
 engaged in the act of reading your first letter, taking the 
 precaution of writing to Lady Fanny Needham to say 
 that unpleasant reports were afloat from India, and 
 begging her to take care that Maria did not see a paper 
 unguardedly. 
 
 " However melancholy the source of our acquaintance will 
 now be to us both, let me trust it will still be continued, and
 
 STOKE, ALDERLEY, AND HODNET. 63 
 
 that no opportunity of improving it will be neglected. I 
 shall ever feel the warmest interest in you, and a high value 
 for your friendship. I shall write to you again without 
 scruple, if there is anything to say about my sister that you 
 will like to know, and I do know you will be anxious about 
 her. 
 
 Feb. 6. I have heard again from Mrs. Leycester, who 
 dreaded Maria's hearing at Shavington, and made an 
 excuse to send for her home ; and, after that preparation, 
 broke the news. 
 
 " Feb. 28. I have been to Stoke, and after being with 
 Maria for a few days, she improved more than *I dared to 
 hope at first. Constant talking on the subject with the 
 greatest freedom relieved her, and when I left her about ten 
 days ago she could do this with calmness. I left my two 
 little children with her, and she was able to play with and 
 talk to them when she could do nothing else." 
 
 AUGUSTUS W. HARE to (HIS AUNT) LADY JONES. 
 
 " Feb. 3. Truly Stow was, after yourself and my 
 
 brothers, the person I most had loved in the world 
 
 He was the only person with whom Reginald would lay 
 aside the bishop, an indescribable happiness to a man of 
 his simple turn of mind. With him, and with him alone, 
 Reginald could be and could feel as he formerly did by his 
 rectory fireside. Now that is over. I need not say how 
 much he would have gained himself by what he would have 
 seen and done, for he is now gaining and learning infinitely 
 more. As he was to be taken from me, thank God it was 
 in God's service. It was in doing what the Apostles, had 
 they been alive now, would have been doing too, and be- 
 cause he was doing it, that he died. This fact is like a rock 
 of comfort to me. There is no moving or shaking the con-
 
 64 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 viction that those who die for God shall also live with Him. 
 He is quite safe." 
 
 M. L. to AUGUSTUS W. HARE. 
 
 " I must write a few lines, although I feel it almost need- 
 less to do so, for Augustus Hare knows all my feelings too 
 well to doubt what they must be now. I have received every 
 comfort that the tenderest, the most affectionate kindness 
 could give ; but it is to you I turn as the sharer, the fellow- 
 sufferer, in my grief. You only know what the loss is. I 
 cannot help at times feeling that if I had been there this 
 might not have happened, but I believe it is presumption to 
 think so. The God who has willed to take him away had 
 the power to have preserved him had He seen fit to do so, 
 and ought we not to rejoice that his spirit is removed from a 
 world of sighing and sorrow to one where it will be perfected 
 in happiness and joy ? I have not felt the resignation I 
 ought to have done, but sorrow is very, very selfish. I am 
 sensible that I have much to be grateful for, that few women 
 have had the happiness of being loved with affection so 
 strong and so disinterested few can have had the means 
 of loving such excellence and noble-mindedness ; but to 
 feel that this is gone for ever, and that we can live only in 
 the past, is very hard to bear ; and yet when I think of that 
 sister to whom he was friend, protector, everything I feel 
 it almost wrong to grieve for myself. I know that if you 
 can you will come here. When we have once met it will 
 be a comfort to mourn together. I look to one only source 
 of comfort, and you too, my dear friend, must, in a Hope 
 which can never fail, seek for that consolation which nothing 
 earthly can afford,"
 
 STOKE, ALDERLEY, AND HODNET. . 65 
 
 Here our narration must pause. Augustus Hare and his 
 family have henceforward so large a share in it, that it 
 seems necessary to go back into their lives, and connect 
 their story with this. 
 
 VOL. L
 
 III. 
 
 THE HARES OF HURSTMONCEAUX. 
 
 " The true Past departs not, nothing that was worthy in tle 
 Past departs ; no Truth or Goodness realised by man ever 
 dies, or can die ; but all is still here, and, recognised or not, 
 lives and works through endless changes." CARLYLK'S 
 Essays. 
 
 T ESS than four miles from the Sussex coast, at the 
 point where the huge remains of the Roman Anderida 
 break the otherwise monotonous sea-line, but divided from 
 the sea by the flat marsh meadow-lands known as Pevensey 
 Level, stand the ruins of Hurstmonceaux Castle. Once, 
 before the Level was reclaimed, the sea itself must have 
 rolled in almost as far as the ancient manor-house which 
 preceded the castle upon the same site ; and the plain is 
 still wholly uninhabited, except by one or two farmers, 
 who watch over the immense herds of cattle which pasture 
 there, and who live in small houses amid solitary tufts of 
 trees, on slight rising-grounds, which were once islands, 
 and whose names still show their origin, in the ancient 
 termination of ey, or island, as in Pevensey, Horsey, 
 Langney. From the churchyard above the castle, the view 
 is very strange, looking down upon the green, pathless
 
 THE HARES OF HURSTMONCEAUX. 67 
 
 flat, into the confines of which no one ever wanders except 
 the cowherds, or those who cross to Pevensey by the 
 distant highroad. The church and castle are literally the 
 last buildings on the edge of a desert. 
 
 The castle is still most grand and stately in its premature 
 decay; nothing can be more picturesque than its huge 
 front of red brick, grown grey here and there with lichens 
 and weather-stains, than its arched gateway and boldly 
 projecting machicolations, or the flowing folds of ivy with 
 which it is overhung. Though only built in the reign of 
 Henry VI., it is said to have been the earliest large brick 
 building in England, after the time of Richard II., when De 
 la Pole's house was built of brick at Kingston-on-Hull ; and 
 it is considered a most valuable specimen of the transition 
 of domestic building from a fortress to a manor-house. The 
 front is pierced with loop-holes for crossbows, and oeillets 
 for the discharge of matchlock guns, which are relics of the 
 former intention, while the large windows of the dwelling- 
 rooms, and more especially the noble oriel known as " the 
 Ladies' Bower," are witnesses to the latter. Bishop Littleton,* 
 writing in 1757, states his opinion that Hurstmonceaux was 
 at that time the largest inhabited house in England be- 
 longing to any subject, its rival, Audley End, having been 
 then partially destroyed. 
 
 Unfortunately the castle is built in a damp hollow, and, 
 as Horace Walpole observes,f " for convenience of water to 
 the moat, it sees nothing at all." All the present sur- 
 roundings of the building are in melancholy harmony with 
 
 * Archaeologia, vol. ii. p. 147. 
 
 f Walpole's Letters, edit. 1837, vol. i. p. 176.
 
 68 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 its condition. Dim mists, which float upwards from the 
 great dykes of the marsh, shroud the whole hollow towards 
 evening, and seem prophetic of rheumatism and ague. The 
 moat, which even in Elizabeth's time was converted into a 
 garden for the sake of salubrity, is now an undraine^ 1 
 wilderness of dank grass and rushes ; beside it, a line of tall 
 Spanish chestnuts fling up their antler-like boughs against 
 the sky, and are nearly the only relic of the many stately 
 avenues which once crossed the park in every direction. 
 Almost all the other trees near it are cut down, or blown 
 down by the salt-winds, which blow savagely over the un- 
 guarded hill-side, and only a few mutilated beeches, a few 
 plantations of the last century, and some thickets of furze, 
 which afford shelter for innumerable rabbits, remain to 
 show where rich vegetation has once existed, and to con- 
 trast with the brown turf, which scantily covers the poor 
 unproductive soil. Ivy alone flourishes, clinging and 
 clustering about the walls with a destroying vigour, which 
 makes one regret the day when old Marchant, the gar- 
 dener, who died only a few years ago, used to tell us that 
 he " turned the first plant out of a penny flower-pot." But 
 that which contributes most to the sadness of the place, 
 is the shortness of the time since it fell into decay, for 
 less than a hundred years ago the castle was perfect and 
 inhabited, the antler-hung hall was filled with guests, 
 Horace Walpole was coming down from London to hunt up 
 the antiquities, and Addison was writing a play about the 
 castle ghost-story.* Now, not a single room remains 
 perfect, but the empty mullions of the windows frame broad 
 * See " The Haunted House," Addison's Works, vol ii.
 
 THE HARES OF HURSTMONCEAUX. 69 
 
 strips of blue Sussex sky, and in the interior the turf is 
 everywhere strewn with masses of red and yellow brickwork, 
 which lovers of Rome have compared to the huge fragments 
 which litter the Baths of Caracalla. 
 
 The name Hurstmonceaux is a combination of the Saxon 
 word " hurst," meaning a wood, and " Monceaux," the title 
 of one of its lords, who came over with the Conqueror.* 
 The family of Monceaux built the early manor-house, which 
 existed long before the castle, and was coeval with the 
 foundation of the church on the adjoining hill. In the 
 time of Waleran de Monceaux (1264), Henry IH.t visited 
 and slept in this building, and one of his nobles, Roger de 
 Tournay, was accidentally killed by an arrow as he was 
 hunting in the park. In the reign of Edward II., Maude 
 de Monceaux brought the castle by marriage to Sir John 
 Fienes. The head of this family bore the title of Lord 
 Dacre of the South. In 1405, died William Fienes, whose 
 magnificent brass remains in front of the altar of the church. 
 In 1440, the old manor-house where William Fienes died 
 was pulled down by Sir Roger Fienes, Treasurer of the 
 Household to Henry V., by whom the present castle was 
 built, at a cost of ^3,8oo.J 
 
 In 1534, died Thomas, second Lord Dacre, whose grand 
 altar-tomb in Hurstmonceaux Church bears his effigy, with 
 that of his son Thomas, who died before him. It was the 
 grandson of this Lord Dacre, and not himself, as Horace 
 Walpole affirms, who was beheaded in his twenty-fourth 
 
 * Sussex Archseol., vol iv. p. 128. t Id., p. 134. 
 
 J Pat. Roll., 19 Hen. VI., "licentia kemellandi."
 
 70 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 year on Tower Hill * for accidentally killing a gamekeeper 
 in Laughton Park,t " chiefly," says Camden, " because of 
 his great estate, which needy courtiers gasped after, and 
 which caused them to hasten his destruction." J In 1593, 
 his daughter Margaret, Baroness Dacre, brought the pro- 
 perty by marriage (for the strictness of the entail saved the 
 estates from forfeiture) to Sampson Lennard, described by 
 Camden as " of great worth and politeness," with whom she 
 lived in the castle. This couple built the great staircase, 
 and adorned the chimney-pieces with carving in stone, and 
 they are buried at Chevening under a splendid monument. 
 Their grandson Richard, Lord Dacre (the builder of 
 Chevening), died at Hurstmonceaux, and was buried there, 
 August 1 8, 1650. The last Lord Dacre (Thomas) who 
 possessed Hurstmonceaux married Lady Anne Fitzroy, a 
 natural daughter of Charles II. by the Duchess of Cleveland, 
 and they adorned the castle with fine carvings by Gibbons. 
 In 1708, Thomas, Lord Dacre, sold Hurstmonceaux to 
 George Naylor, of Lincoln's Inn, who was a very handsome 
 man, of stately presence and large fortune. His wife, who 
 was a picturesque little woman with curls, sparkling eyes, 
 and a snub-nose, was Lady Grace Holies, sister of Thomas 
 Pelham, first Duke of Newcastle. 
 
 George Naylor and Lady Grace were married in 1705, 
 and kept a most bountiful house at Hurstmonceaux, where 
 
 * This is the subject of a tragedy by Mrs. Gore, 
 f Hollinshed says the catastrophe occurred at " Pikehaie " in 
 Hellingly, a parish joining Hurstmonceaux on the west. 
 J Camden's Britannia. 
 See their portraits by Sir P. Lely.
 
 THE HARES OF HURSTMGNCEAUX. 71 
 
 all guests were hospitably received, according to their 
 degree, while butts of beer were left standing at the park 
 gates for the refreshment of chance passers-by. If the 
 exterior of the castle was damp and gloomy, it was amply 
 atoned for within the walls. The visitor, upon crossing the 
 bridge, was received in a vaulted portico, on one side of 
 which the porter had his lodge. Hence he entered the 
 great courtyard, generally known as "the Green Court," 
 surrounded by slender pillars of brick, and shaded in part 
 by the great holly which stood i^\ the centre of the quad- 
 rangle, and of which a fragment still remains in the ruins. 
 Above the cloisters, a line of w idows on every side lighted 
 the galleries into which the r incipal apartments opened 
 upon the upper floor. That in the left was called the 
 Bethlehem Gallery, and was hung from end to end with gilt 
 stamped leather, a fragment of which, Dame Burchett, an 
 old woman in a red cloak, who showed the castle till a few 
 years ago, used to wear in her bosom as a kind of talisman, 
 till the day of her death. This, and the other courtyards, 
 were always kept bright and free from weeds by twenty old 
 crones, who were constantly employed about the place 
 under the title of " the castle weeding women." Immediately 
 beyond the Green Court was the great hall, paved with 
 square glazed tiles, and covered by an open timber roof, 
 whose massive beams were supported on corbels adorned 
 with the alant or wolf-dog the badge of the Dacres, and 
 which ended in a music-gallery. Beyond the hall was the 
 Pantry Court, whose picturesque gable lighted the great 
 staircase built by Margaret, Baroness Dacre, which led to 
 the upper galleries, of which the Green Gallery, hung with
 
 72 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 green cloth, was filled with pictures, and the Bethlehem 
 Gallery derived its name from the guest-rooms which 
 opened into it, and which were always reserved for the 
 entertainment of strangers. Beyond the Pantry Court a 
 paved passage led to a gateway and bridge, opening upon 
 the garden. On the right of the main artery of the castle, 
 occupying the east front, were the principal dwelling 
 apartments, including the great drawing-room, adorned by 
 the Earl of Sussex, where a vine, the masterpiece of Grinling 
 Gibbons, was represented as springing out of the ground 
 near the fireplace, and spreading its branches and tendrils 
 over the ceiling, whose pendants were formed by the 
 hanging bunches of grapes ; the chapel, whose tall windows 
 contained " the seven long lean saints ill done," described 
 by Horace Walpole ; and on the upper floor, " the Ladies' 
 Bower," whose peculiar oriel window is so conspicuous a 
 feature. On the west side of the castle were the kitchen 
 and bakehouse (in the great oven of which, guide books 
 declare that a coach and six could turn with facility), and a 
 small court, known as the Pump Court. The chambers on 
 the upper floor are described by Grose as "sufficient to 
 lodge a garrison." " One was bewildered," he says, " by 
 the galleries that led to them, while on every window was 
 painted on the glass the alant, or wolf-dog, the ancient 
 supporters of the family of Fiennes. 
 
 In the time of Lady Grace Naylor, these vast suites of 
 guest-chambers were constantly filled with visitors, who 
 frequently included the lady's own two brothers, both im- 
 portant persons of their time. That Thomas Holies, Duke 
 of Newcastle, did not forget the poor friends he made while
 
 THE HARES OF HURSTMONCEAUX. 73 
 
 staving with his sister, is testified by a weather-beaten 
 tombstone still standing beneath the vestry window of 
 Hurstmonceaux Church, and inscribed to the memory of 
 " Richard Morris, who died the 2ist day of July, 1749, 
 aged sixty-three, who himself desired that it might be 
 remembered that he owed his bread to his grace the Duke 
 of Newcastle, his great benefactor." * 
 
 An aunt of George Naylor had married Richard Hare, 
 the descendant of a family which had been settled at Leigh, 
 in Essex, for many generations, and had died, leaving an 
 only son, Francis, who was a Fellow of King's College, 
 Cambridge, where he had formed an intimate friendship with 
 Sir Robert Walpole, and where he had the care of John, 
 Marquis of Blandford, only son of the great Duke of 
 Marlborough, who died in his college of small-pox, in 1702, 
 and is buried there in the chapel, under a monument, which 
 bears a long Latin epitaph, composed by his tutor, t 
 
 In 1704, Francis Hare was appointed Chaplain-General 
 to the army in Flanders, under John, Duke of Marlborough, 
 and was present at the battles of Blenheim and Ramilies. 
 He described the campaign in a valuable series of letters 
 to his cousin at Hurstmonceaux, and in a journal, pre- 
 
 * This Duke of Newcastle married Henrietta, daughter of the Duke 
 of Marlborough, in 1717. The younger brother of Lady Grace was 
 the famous Henry Pelham, Chancellor of the Exchequer. Her sisters 
 were Frances, Viscountess Castlecombe ; Garthwright, Mrs. Polhill ; 
 Margaret, Lady Shelley ; and Lucy, who married Henry, seventh Earl 
 of Lincoln, Gentleman of the Bedchamber to Prince George of Den- 
 mark, Paymaster-General in George I.'s time, and Knight of the 
 Garter. 
 
 t In the novel of " Esmond," "Dr. Hare " is portrayed as being 
 called in t? whip the Duke of Marlborough 's children.
 
 74 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 served among Archdeacon Coxe's papers in the British 
 Museum. 
 
 In the autumn of 1709, he returned to England, and was 
 married to his first cousin, Bethaia, sister of George Naylor, 
 who thereupon removed with her mother to " Amen Corner," 
 where Francis Hare appears to have possessed some descrip- 
 tion of home, and where members of his family were previously 
 residing. But, in the following April (1710), he was again 
 obliged to join the camp near Douay, when he left his wife 
 with her family at Hurstmonceaux, which ever after continued 
 her principal home; for Lady Grace died in 1711, after an 
 illness of two years, her husband only survived her loss 
 a few months, and the Duke of Newcastle dying at the 
 same time, little Grace, the heiress of Hurstmonceaux, was 
 left to the guardianship of Francis and Bethaia Hare. 
 
 The story of Grace Naylor is a very sad one. Left an 
 orphan at five years old, she grew up in her home, the 
 idol of her father's tenants, equally endeared to them by her 
 beauty of person and natural sweetness of character. In 
 her twenty-first year (1727), she died mysteriously in 
 Hurstmonceaux Castle. Her aunt was already dead,* and it 
 is said that the desolate girl was starved to death by the 
 malice of a jealous governess, in whose care she was left ; 
 the fact probably being, that, in order to give her one of the 
 slim waists, which were a lady's greatest ambition in those 
 days, she was so reduced by her governess, that her consti- 
 tution, always delicate, was unable to rally. She has no 
 monument at Hurstmonceaux, and the beloved name of 
 
 Bishop Hare married his second wife, Miss Alston, in the year 
 succeeding Grace Naylor's death.
 
 THE HARES OF HURSTMONCEAUX. 75 
 
 Grace Naylor is only commemorated upon that of her 
 nurse, Margaret Beckett, who died December 27, 1750, 
 aged seventy-eight, and who is mentioned as having "all 
 her lifetime daily and hourly lamented " the decease of her 
 young mistress. There is a beautiful portrait of her extant. 
 Very little is really known of her life, but tradition and 
 truth have woven themselves together in many stories, which 
 are still told in her old home, where the bower-window, in 
 which " the last of the Naylors was starved to death," is the 
 object of chief attraction to those who visit the ruins of 
 Hurstmonceaux Castle. 
 
 Of the life of Francis Hare, whose son Francis (born May 
 14, 1713) succeeded to the Hurstmonceaux estates on the 
 death of his cousin, we are less ignorant. His sermons and 
 pamphlets had long been keeping the ecclesiastical world 
 alive, and were constantly arousing the abusive energies of 
 the press ; but at the same time, bringing his great talents 
 before the public, which, aided by the protection of the 
 Duke of Marlborough, and the friendship of Sir Robert 
 Walpole, led him rapidly up the ladder of preferment. 
 
 In 1709, he enjoyed, in addition to the chaplaincy of the 
 Duke of Marlborough, and the office of Chaplain-General of 
 the Forces, a royal chaplaincy, given by Queen Anne, a 
 Fellowship at Eton, a Canonry at St. Paul's, and the Rectory 
 of Barnes, in Surrey. Thus, when he married Bethaia, he 
 was already well provided for. In 1715, he received, in 
 \ddition, the Deanery of Worcester. In 1722, he was 
 appointed Usher of the Exchequer, which brought him 
 another thousand a year, by Henry Pelham, the younger 
 brother of Lady Grace. In October, 1726, upon the
 
 76 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 resignation of Dr. Godolphin, he exchanged Worcester for 
 the richer deanery of St. Paul's ; and, in the same year, was 
 advanced to the episcopal mitre (without resigning St. 
 Paul's, which he held till his death), being on the xyth 
 December, 1727, consecrated Bishop of St. Asaph, where 
 he sate for barely four years. This double elevation was the 
 more remarkable, because, during the latter part of the 
 reign of George I., he had fallen into disgrace on the 
 strength of party prejudice; and, in 1718, had been dis- 
 missed from his royal chaplaincy, together with Dr. Sherlock 
 and Dr. Moss. But on the accession of George II., he was 
 restored to the court favour, and Queen Caroline had already 
 intended to have nominated him to the see of Bath and 
 Wells, but yielded to the remonstrances of the ministry, who 
 alleged that it would disoblige the whole bench of bishops 
 to have the newly consecrated ones let into the best prefer- 
 ments at once.* 
 
 That Bishop Hare was considered one of the famous 
 preachers of his time, we learn from the verses of Pope : 
 
 " Still break the benches, Henley, with thy strain, 
 While Kennet, Hare, and Gibson preach in vain."f 
 
 When the estates of Hurstmonceaux came to his son, who 
 forthwith took the name of Naylor, Bishop Hare consented 
 to pass as much time at the castle as his various offices 
 allowed him ; but he brought up the young Francis there in 
 the most severe manner, " obliging him to speak Greek as 
 his ordinary language in the family." J The property was 
 already much impoverished. Not only were the repairs of 
 
 Nichols's Literary Anecdotes. + Dunciad, bk. iii. s. 199. 
 
 Cole MS
 
 THE HARES OF HURSTMONCEAUX. 77 
 
 the great fabric itself a continual drain upon the income, 
 but custom had imposed a burden of hospitalities, and a dis- 
 play of liveries and retainers, which the Bishop found great 
 difficulty in abolishing. His letters complain bitterly of 
 the expenses of the unremunerative deer-park, from which 
 " half the county expected to be supplied with venison," of 
 the weeding women, the public beer-butts, and the number 
 of useless hangers-on who by custom were attached to the 
 estate, and whose number may be estimated by the fact, 
 that there were four persons whose only duty was that of 
 clock-winders. 
 
 After his son came of age, Bishop Hare never returned to 
 Hurstmonceaux. While visiting his paternal estate of Skul- 
 thorpe, near Fakenham,* he had become acquainted with the 
 family of Mr. Joseph Alston, of Edwardstone, whose wife 
 was Laurentia Trumbull, niece of Sir William Trumbul!, 
 the Secretary of State, t Joseph Alston's eldest daughter, 
 Margaret, was married to Bishop Hare in April, 1728, and 
 brought him a large fortune in the estate of Newhouse, in 
 Suffolk, and the Vatche, near Chalfont St. Giles, in Bucking- 
 hamshire, where they always resided in the later years of his 
 life. This property had descended to Margaret Alston 
 through the Claytons ; who, in their turn, derived it from 
 the Fleetwoods, through whom the Bishop's second wife 
 was related to Oliver Cromwell, of whom she possessed 
 a valuable portrait. The Vatche took its name from the 
 
 * Sold by his son Robert in 1 780. 
 
 t Minister Plenipotentiary in Turkey in the reign of William III., 
 and the great friend and patron of Pope, who wrote his epitaph iu 
 Easthamostead Church, Berks.
 
 7 8 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 Vache, a dairy-farm of King John. The estate was a rich 
 one, and the house, in the Bishop's time, was a fine old resi- 
 dence, standing on high ground, surrounded by noble trees. 
 It was approached by a. long lime avenue from the pic- 
 turesque village of Chalfont, well-known to lovers of great 
 men, as having once been the residence of Milton, who took 
 refuge there from the plague in 1665, and wrote his " Paradise 
 Lost " in a gable-ended cottage, built by one of the Fleet- 
 woods, which still exists. 
 
 The comparative economy of the Vatche, and its near- 
 ness to London, made it a far more popular residence with 
 the Bishop than Hurstmonceaux. He fitted up a desecrated 
 chapel in the grounds for divine service, which was per- 
 formed by one of his chaplains, and hung a gallery, a hun- 
 dred and fifty feet in length, with the portraits of his 
 ancestors.* At the Vatche, the seven children of his 
 second marriage were born.t 
 
 Meanwhile, his eldest son, Francis, gave the Bishop con- 
 siderable uneasiness, by avenging himself for his strictly 
 guarded youth, in extravagance and dissipation of every 
 description, and by eventually joining the Medmenham 
 brotherhood, or " Hell Fire Club," a society of wits and 
 humorists, who called themselves Franciscans, from their 
 founder, Sir Francis Dashwood, afterwards Lord Le De- 
 spencer. They met in the deserted abbey of Medmenham, 
 on the banks of the Thames, where they spent six weeks every 
 
 * Sheahan's Hist of Bucks, pp. 822, 823. 
 
 t Four of these lived to grow up, Robert the eldest son ; Laurentia 
 who died 1760, aged thirty-one; Anne who died 1816, aged eighty- 
 one ; and Francis, wh(7 died in the East Indies, 1771.
 
 THE HARES OF HURSTMONCEAUX 79 
 
 summer in the wildest orgies, during which, a cordon was 
 drawn round the abbey, to prevent the approach of the un- 
 initiated. " Fay ce que voudras " (the inscription in 
 Rabelais' abbey Thelme) * was their motto, which they 
 engraved over their porch at Medmenham, where, time- 
 stained and ivy-mantled, it may still be seen ; and whatever 
 they chose that they did, though they sometimes chose to 
 do things which the present century would never allow, and 
 the last century was greatly scandalized at.f When he con- 
 sented to leave the brotherhood, the first step which Francis 
 Naylor made towards reform, was one most displeasing to 
 his father, by engaging himself to his stepmother's younger 
 sister, Carlotta Alston, who was penniless, though beautiful. 
 The Bishop prevented their marriage in his lifetime, but it 
 took place after his death, when they went to live per- 
 manently at Little Thurlow, in Suffolk, with the third Miss 
 Alston, who was married to a Mr. Stephen Soane, leaving 
 Hurstmonceaux to the rats and mice. Had Francis Naylor 
 married during his father's lifetime, "the Bishop and his 
 son had been brother-in-law," says Cole, " and by that 
 means would have added yet another scandal." I That the 
 Bishop's own second marriage had created some scandal at 
 the time, we learn from Whiston, who writes, " And I will 
 venture to say that Bishop Hoadley and Bishop Hare seem 
 to have been among the first, pretending to be Christian 
 Bishops, that having children already, and being in years, 
 
 * See Cole MS. under the head of Soane. 
 
 t For details concerning the Medmenham brotherhood, see 
 " Chrysal, or the Adventures of a Guinea," vol. iii. c. 1J. 
 J Cole MS xvi. 107.
 
 80 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 have married twice, and ventured to officiate as Christian 
 Bishops afterwards." * But Bishop Hare did not regret 
 the course he had taken, and his second married life 
 was a very happy one, saddened only by the deaths of 
 little Mar)', Charlotte, and Frances, taken away in their 
 childhood. 
 
 His leisure time at the Vatche was constantly devoted to 
 literary pursuits. In 1724 he had published in London a 
 new quarto edition of Terence, according to that of Faernius, 
 with notes and a dissertation upon comic metre. This publi- 
 cation led to a dispute between Bishop Hare and Dr. Ben- 
 tley, heretofore his intimate friend, which lasted many years.! 
 In this dispute Bishop Hare is generally considered to have 
 had the worst of it, but Dr. Parr, who thought him one of 
 the best Latin scholars of his or of any age, gave it as his 
 opinion that " he proved himself quite a match for his anta- 
 gonist in his knowledge of the genius and spirit of the lan- 
 guage." Bishop Warburton had also the highest opinion of 
 his critical skill, saying, " Good sense is the foundation of 
 criticism ; this it is which has made Dr. Bentley and Dr. Hare 
 the two greatest critics that ever were in the world."} 
 
 Bishop Hare had a considerable knowledge of Hebrew ; 
 and in 1736 he published an edition of the Psalms in that 
 language. Concerning this, as about all the works of the 
 Bishop, opinions differed widely. Dr. Richard Grey, in the 
 preface to his Hebrew Grammar, highly extols it, as recover- 
 
 * Whiston's " Memoirs of Himself," vol. i. p. 540. 
 t See a letter from Dr. Salter of the Charterhouse to Dr. Nichols, 
 Gent. Mag. for 1779, pp. 547, 54 8 - 
 I Nichols's Lit. Anec., ii. 96
 
 THE HARES OF HURSTMONCEAUX. 8 1 
 
 ing what for ages had been lost, the knowledge of Hebrew 
 poetry, and in several places restoring the text to its original 
 beauty and accuracy, as also teaching the method of learning 
 the Hebrew language without points; but Bishop Hare's 
 arrangement of the Psalms was ably confuted by Lowth 
 in 1766. 
 
 Meanwhile the Bishop's sermons continued to excite in- 
 creasing attention, and to be the signal for a warfare of 
 attacking and defending pamphlets. For the defence of a 
 single sermon on King Charles's martyrdom (preached 1731) 
 no less than six pamphlets were issued by different persons.* 
 
 In 1731 Bishop Hare was translated from the see of 
 St. Asaph to that of Chichester. In 1736 he narrowly 
 escaped elevation to the primacy. The case is thus de- 
 scribed in Lord Hervey's Memoirs : " During Archbishop 
 Wake's illness, in 1736, there was a question who should 
 succeed him. Lord Hervey proposed Potter, but Sir Robert 
 seemed much more inclined to take Hare, provided he could 
 get the Queen to accept of him. Hare having been his tutor 
 at the university, gave Sir Robert some prejudices for him ; 
 and the good correspondence in which he had lived with 
 him ever since made his vanity, I believe, more inclined to 
 Hare than Potter, as t he promotion in that case would have 
 been more marked out to have been made solely by his 
 influence. Lord Hervey told him, 'You will certainly 
 repent of it, if you take Hare. He is a haughty, hard- 
 natured, imperious, hot-headed, injudicious fellow, who, I 
 firmly believe, would give you more trouble at Lambeth 
 than even Sherlock himself; and besides that, is so tho- 
 
 * Cole MS. vol. xvi. 
 VOL. I. G
 
 82 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 roughly disliked in private and feared in public life, that I 
 do not think you could lodge power in more unpopular 
 hands.' This did not weaken Sir Robert's bias towards him, 
 but Lord Hervey's constantly talking to the Queen in this 
 strain strengthened the natural bias she had against him ; 
 and his lordship never lost any opportunity of doing Potter 
 as many good offices as he did ill ones to Hare, and as all 
 he said on these two subjects had the ground-work of her 
 own inclination, it made an impression which, without that 
 aid, would have sunk less deep, and been much easier 
 effaced."* 
 
 That Bishop Hare's character was not such as to con- 
 ciliate court favour or form new friendships may be seen 
 from much contemporary evidence. Cole says, " That the 
 Bishop was of a sharp and piercing wit, of great judgment 
 and understanding in worldly matters, and of no less saga- 
 city and penetration in matters of learning, and especially 
 of criticism, is sufficiently clear from the works he has left 
 behind him, but that he was of a sour and crabbed disposi- 
 tion and behaviour is equally manifest.''! The few friends 
 who remained faithful to the Bishop in his later life, were 
 chiefly those he had made in his early youth, the Pelhams 
 and Walpoles, and other friends of the old Naylor con- 
 nection. Another firm ally was Dr. Warburton, who was 
 first introduced to the notice of the court by his influence. J 
 
 Bishop Hare died at the Vatche on the 26th of April, 
 
 * Lord Hervey's Memoirs, ii. no. 
 
 t See also on this subject the author of the Critical Review for 
 Feb., 1763, p. 82. 
 
 J See the Life of Bishop Warburton affixed to his Works, vol. i. 
 p. 17.
 
 THE HARES OF HURSTMONCEAUX. 83 
 
 1740, and was buried in a mausoleum which he had built 
 for his family adjoining the church of Chalfont St. Giles. 
 Great was the lamentation for him both in private and 
 public. Bishop Warburton wrote, " In the death of Dr. 
 Francis Hare the world has lost one of the best patrons and 
 supporters of letters and religion. How steadily and suc- 
 cessfully he employed his talents of reason and literature, in 
 opposing the violence of each religious party in their turn, 
 when court favour was betraying them into hurtful extremes, 
 the unjust reproaches of libertines and bigots will never 
 suffer us to forget How generously he encouraged and 
 rewarded letters, let them tell who have largely shared in 
 his beneficence, for his character may be trusted with his 
 enemies or even with his most obliged friends. In him the 
 author of the ' Divine Legation of Moses ' has lost the most 
 candid of his readers and ablest of his critics ; what he can 
 never lose is, the honour of his esteem and friendship." 
 
 Many other persons have awarded a favourable verdict to 
 Bishop Hare, and since Bentley was dead, he left no avowed 
 enemies behind him ; but the belief in his orthodoxy as a 
 Churchman was by no means universal. Spencer's Anec- 
 dotes mention him as " engaging to prove very clearly that 
 the Book of Job was written a little before Ezekiel's time.' 
 Dr. Conybeare quotes him as saying, " The Book of Job is, 
 perhaps, the finest dramatic piece that ever was written. It 
 is evidently a tragedy, and the design of it is to show, ' cur 
 malis bone, et bonis male.' Taken with that single pre- 
 caution, it is very easily understood all through, and the per- 
 formance is very well for a young man." 
 
 Upon the death of Francis Naylor, in 1775, the Hurst-
 
 84 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 monceaux property devolved^ upon his half-brother Robert, 
 son of the Bishop by Margaret Alston. He received his 
 name from his godfather Sir Robert Walpole, who gave him 
 as a christening present the sinecure office of sweepership of 
 Gravesend, worth 400 a year, but divided for some time 
 between him and a Mr. Gee. This he held till his death. 
 Its only duty was to go down to Gravesend once a year, 
 and to give ten guineas to the watermen there. Bishop 
 Hare had decided from their cradles that his sons must 
 follow his example in marrying heiresses. " The estate is 
 charged to raise .3,000 apiece for the younger children, 
 and one would hope that Master Hare's wife's fortune would 
 clear that encumbrance," wrote the Bishop's widow, imme- 
 diately after his death. The wife and her fortune were very 
 easy to fix upon. Only two miles from the Vatche was the 
 beautiful estate of Chalfont St. Peters, belonging to a Mr. 
 Lister Selman, who had no son, but two lovely daughters. 
 Of these, one, Helena, married John Lefevre, of Heckfield, 
 and was the grandmother of the present Lord Eversley; the 
 other, Sarah, married Robert Hare in 1752, and died in 1763 
 of a chill brought on by eating too many ices when over- 
 heated by dancing at Sir John Shaw's, at Eltham, leaving to 
 the Hares a diamond necklace, valued at .30,000, and 
 three children, Francis, Robert, and Anna Maria. 
 
 In 1768, Robert Hare married another heiress, Miss 
 Henrietta Henckell, a woman as extravagant as she was 
 ambitious. She preferred Hurstmonceaux to the Vatche as 
 the grander residence of the two, and after the death of the 
 Bishop's widow in December, 1784, she persuaded her 
 husband to sell the latter, together with his property at the
 
 THE HARES OF HURSTMONCEAUX. 85 
 
 White House and Burfield in Hampshire, and at New 
 House in Suffolk, and to settle the proceeds upon her 
 children, who were seven in number, though only two 
 daughters Caroline and Marianne lived long enough to 
 bear any conspicuous part in the family history. But far 
 more distressing to her stepsons was the idea of Mrs. Hen- 
 rietta Hare, that if she could pull down the castle, which 
 was necessarily entailed upon the eldest son of her pre- 
 decessor, she could build with its materials a handsome 
 house on a higher site in the park, which could be settled 
 upon herself. With this view she called Wyatt to her 
 assistance, who declared that the castle was in a hopeless 
 state of dilapidation, though another authority had just 
 affirmed that in all material points its condition was as good 
 as on the day on which it was built. 
 
 In 1777 the castle was unroofed. Those who began to 
 pull it to pieces found how strongly built it was, and the 
 materials were so injured in the taking down that they were 
 quite unfit to use again. A great sale was held in the park, 
 whither the London brokers came in troops, and lived in an 
 encampment of tents during the six weeks through which 
 the sale lasted. Almost everything of value or interest was 
 then dispersed. The great vine of Gibbons's carving is said 
 to have been bought for Petworth. Even the portrait of 
 Grace Naylor herself was sold to a farmer at Hellingly. 
 Mrs. Henrietta Hare and her husband afterwards resided at 
 Hurstmonceaux Place, the new house which Wyatt was 
 commissioned to build, and lived there with such extrava- 
 gance that they always spent a thousand a year more than 
 their income, large as it was, and annually sold a farm from
 
 86 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 the property to make up the deficiency. It was a proverb 
 in the neighbourhood at that time that " people might hunt 
 either Hares or Foxes." 
 
 Robert Hare was a clergyman. In the later years of his 
 life he had a canonry at Winchester, and there he died. 
 It was upon one of the rare visits of his eldest son, Francis 
 Hare Naylor, to Winchester (for he was upon the most 
 unhappy terms with his stepmother) that he made an 
 acquaintance which was of the utmost consequence to his 
 future life. 
 
 About two miles from Winchester is the picturesque 
 village of Twyford, having an old church with a magnificent 
 yew-tree in its grave-yard, and close beside it a handsome, 
 substantial red-brick house of the last century, standing 
 rather too near the high-road. Beyond the road is, how- 
 ever, a fine avenue of chestnuts called " The Grove." The 
 house itself is apparently only two stories high, for the third 
 is concealed by a parapet, with round holes opposite the 
 windows, after the fashion of the time. Below the house 
 and the churchyard a green bank studded with elm-trees 
 slopes down to the river Itchen, which is here crossed by a 
 wooden bridge. Altogether Twyford is a far pleasanter 
 residence than any other place in that generally bleak but 
 healthy neighbourhood. 
 
 In the earlier part of the last century Twyford House 
 was inhabited by a family called Davies, whose heiress 
 married Jonathan Shipley, a London merchant. Their only 
 son, Jonathan, rose high in ecclesiastical honours. In 
 1749, being then a doctor in divinity, he was made Canon 
 of Christ Church, and in 1760 Dean of Winchester. He
 
 THE HARES OF HURSTMONCEAUX. 87 
 
 was next advanced to the bishopric of Llandaff, whence he 
 was translated to St. Asaph in 1769. The sermons of 
 Bishop Shipley obtained great praise, though no collection 
 of them was published till after his death in 1792. He 
 was celebrated by the poets of his day. 
 
 " Who views St. Asaph, e'en with envious eye, 
 That dares his learning, wisdom, worth, deny ?" 
 
 The following letter to the newly-appointed prime minis- 
 ter, Lord Shelburne, seems worth insertion as showing the 
 boldness with which Bishop Shipley asserted his principles, 
 regardless of self-interest. 
 
 " Chimbolton, November 21, 1782. My dear Lord, 
 Permit an old friend, who has told you many an honest 
 truth, and has never in any instance imposed upon you, to 
 return a very serious answer to an official letter. I need 
 not remind your lordship that it was my constant endeavour 
 and warmest wish to bring about a cordial reconciliation 
 between yourself and Lord Rockingham. I always con- 
 sidered you as the respectable heads of the same party, and 
 I considered your difference as arising from mutual jealousies 
 and little personal offences, and far unworthy to be the 
 ground of a serious division among the friends of their 
 country. Your lordship need not be reminded of the warm, 
 the frequent, and perhaps impertinent remonstrances I have 
 made on this subject, and I have a right to be credited 
 when I assure you that I never omitted any opportunity of 
 expressing the same wishes to Lord Rockingham, as far as 
 a very inferior degree of intimacy would allow of. Almost 
 the last words I ever spoke to him were these : ' My lord, 
 you see the arts and intrigues that are used to disunite you
 
 88 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 and Lord Shelburne : that very circumstance ought to con- 
 vince you both that it is your interest most cordially to 
 agree.' I flattered myself, indeed, that my wishes were 
 accomplished when you so nobly concurred with Lord 
 Rockingham in forming the late Cabinet. Two or three 
 more such acts would have made you what I always hoped 
 to see you, a great, independent, popular statesman, head- 
 ing a most respectable band of honest men, the friend of 
 your country, and the most powerful man in it. Your 
 memory will justify what I say, if you recollect the tendency 
 of all the political conversations with which your lordship 
 has formerly honoured me ; and though my endeavours 
 have perhaps been too officious, and certainly fruitless, and 
 even though they have made me lose your lordship's friend- 
 ship and confidence, yet I shall have the spirit to consider 
 the part I took as the most virtuous act of my life. I con- 
 gratulated your lordship with the warmest approbation and 
 love on your short-lived reconciliation with Lord Rocking- 
 ham, and I own I could not congratulate you on a promo- 
 tion that occasioned the desertion of so many worthy men. 
 That great and solid combination ought at all events to have 
 been kept entire. Before the death of that valuable man I 
 left town, and have been resident either at my diocese or on 
 my living in an utter ignorance of all State transactions since 
 that period. I pay no regard to papers or common reports, 
 and my correspondents have been either silent or mysterious. 
 God forbid that I should suspect your lordship has aban- 
 doned your good principles and your generous views for 
 the public service ; pursue them with firmness, and you will 
 have my weak support, and much better than mine ; but it 
 you find yourself entangled and embarrassed, like Lord 
 Chatham, in Court artifices, break through the mercenary 
 chains at once, and assert your liberty and honour. 
 
 " If from different views of things I should at any time
 
 THE HARES OF HURSTMONCEAUX. 89 
 
 find myself obliged to differ from you, it will give me some 
 comfort to show that my long attachment to your lordship 
 was not of an interested kind. I am, my Lord, your most 
 obedient, faithful, humble servant, 
 
 " J. ST. ASAPH." 
 
 Bishop Shipley married Anna Maria, daughter of the 
 Honourable George Mordaunt, and niece of the famous Earl 
 of Peterborough, who, in her youth, was celebrated as " the 
 beautiful Miss Mordaunt," and was Maid of Honour to 
 Queen Caroline. They had one son and five daughters. 
 The son, William Davies, took orders ; and, while still a 
 young man, was appointed to the Deanery of his father's 
 Cathedral of St. Asaph, where, by residing on the spot, he 
 was enabled to perform many duties which would otherwise 
 have devolved upon his father, and to allow of his passing a 
 great part of the year on his own estates at Twyford, and at 
 Chimbolton, near Andover. Dean Shipley married a Miss 
 Yonge, coheiress with her sister (who never married, and 
 lived with the Dean), of Bodryddan, a fine old house, em- 
 bosomed in woods, and backed by rocky purple hills, about 
 three miles from St Asaph. There he lived, full of enjoy- 
 ment in hunting and shooting, rollicking, popular, and 
 good-natured, though not very ecclesiastical. 
 
 The daughters of the Bishop, unlike their decanal brother, 
 were entirely devoted to literature. The eldest, Anna 
 Maria, was of a stern character, which caused her to be re- 
 garded with considerable awe by her sisters, and lived 
 principally with her cousin, Lady Spencer, at Althorpe, 
 where she attracted the attentions of the handsome young 
 tutor, afterwards the celebrated Sir William Jones. In spite
 
 90 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 of the disparity of position, Bishop Shipley entertained so 
 great an admiration for the genius of young Jones, that he 
 would probably not have refused his consent to their union, 
 especially as he had himself been permitted to make his own 
 happy marriage with Miss Mordaunt, while he was a tutor 
 in the family of her uncle, Lord Peterborough. But William 
 Jones determined not to seek the hand of Miss Shipley till 
 his own efforts placed him in a position which he considered 
 worthy of her, and he was thus stimulated to greater exer- 
 tions. " It was a fixed principle with him, never to be 
 deterred by any difficulties that were surmountable, from 
 prosecuting to a successful termination, what he had once 
 deliberately undertaken." In the course of his short life, 
 he acquired : 
 
 Eight languages studied critically : 
 
 English, Latin, French, Italian, Greek, Arabic, Persian, 
 Sanscrit. 
 
 Eight studied less perfectly, but all intelligible with a 
 dictionary : 
 
 Spanish, Portuguese, German, Runick, Hebrew, Bengali, 
 Hindi, Turkish. 
 
 Twelve studied least perfectly, but all attainable : 
 
 Tibetian, Pali, Phalari, Deri, Russian, Syriac, Ethiopic, 
 Coptic, Welsh, Swedish, Dutch, Chinese (twenty-eight 
 languages). 
 
 It was not, however, till April, 1783, when his services to 
 Oriental literature had won the honours of knighthood, and 
 the appointment of Judge at Fortwilliam, in Bengal, that he 
 claimed the hand of Miss Shipley, who almost immediately 
 after accompanied him to India. The marriage gave great
 
 THE HARES OF HURSTMONCEAUX. 91 
 
 pleasure to all the friends of the family ; most of all to the 
 venerable Benjamin Franklin (there is a beautiful letter of 
 his written upon the occasion), who was Bishop Shipley's 
 most intimate friend, and with whom he used to walk for 
 hours up and down " the Grove" in eager conversation, 
 during the summers he spent at Twyford. The loss of Lady 
 Jones was bitterly felt by her family ; her sisters never passed 
 a day without writing to her in a long journal letter every 
 most trifling event of their lives ; and her father confided to 
 her his every care, and watched for her return with the most 
 unwearied affection. Thus, after hearing that a serious ill- 
 ness was likely to send her home, he wrote : 
 
 BISHOP SHIPLEY to LADY JONES. 
 
 " May 31, 1787. I admire Sir William's sense and good- 
 ness in a hundred instances, but in none more than that, 
 though he knows your value so well, he will for that very 
 reason consent to part with you. The great difficulty I foresee, 
 will be to gain your consent to leave him in India alone. I 
 conceive how deeply so long a separation must affect your 
 sensible and worthy minds, but your own reasonable 
 thoughts will suggest that you only part to preserve your 
 life, and increase your happiness. I fear I may appear 
 selfish in saying that you will meet with love, and friend- 
 ship, and kindness at home, that may atone for everything 
 but the loss of Sir William ; but all the rest will be slight 
 and superficial in comparison of the joy you will bring to 
 your own family, and chief to the bosom of your anxious 
 parents. Shall I once more see and embrace my dearest 
 Anna ? Shall I hear from her own mouth her dangers, her 
 adventures, her observations? That thought revives me; 
 it lessens the infirmities of age, and shows me there is still
 
 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 something worth living for. I cannot help anticipating the 
 pleasure in thought of receiving my dearest daughter once 
 more into my aged arms : it makes me wish to live a few 
 years longer. Give my blessing and ever affectionate re- 
 spects to Sir William, and think often of your wishing and 
 doating father, 
 
 "J. ST. ASAPH." 
 
 A great contrast to Lady Jones, both in appearance and 
 character, was her sister Georgiana, the fourth and most in- 
 teresting of Bishop Shipley's daughters. As she passed 
 from a happy childhood, spent in the sisterly circle, into 
 her brilliant girlhood, she displayed a degree of beauty 
 which caused her to rival her cousin, a more celebrated 
 Georgiana, " the beautiful Duchess of Devonshire," to whom 
 she bore a striking resemblance. From her earliest years, 
 she delighted her father by displaying the most ardent love 
 for learning of every kind. Not only was she thoroughly 
 versed in all the modern European languages, but she was 
 also deeply read in Greek and Latin authors, which she 
 studied with him. Her extraordinary artistic talents were 
 cultivated under the eye of Sir Joshua Reynolds, who, when 
 they were in London, was almost a daily visitor at her 
 father's house ; and, in the remarkable literary circle which 
 frequented her home, the enthusiasm with which she entered 
 into all the political questions of the time, and the originality 
 of her conversational powers, made her a general favourite. 
 
 To Georgiana, the marriage of Lady Jones made an 
 especial blank in the home circle ; for Mrs. Shipley had 
 always brought up her daughters "to go in pairs," and, 
 sympathizing most in _ all their pursuits, Anna Maria and
 
 THE HARES OF HURSTMONCEAUX. 93 
 
 Georgiana had always "gone together." The separation, 
 too, took place at a time when she most especially needed 
 the support and advice of her elder sister. During her 
 father's residence at Twyford, while wearied with the dull 
 society of the country squires of the neighbourhood, she had 
 found a congenial spirit in Francis Hare Naylor, the son of 
 the Canon of Winchester. His good looks, and his hopeful 
 disposition amid much poverty and constant unkindness 
 from his father, not only interested her in his behalf, but the 
 Duchess of Devonshire also, who looked upon him as the 
 hero of a living romance, and who, when Georgiana Shipley 
 came to London, never omitted an opportunity of throwing 
 them together. Bishop Shipley, who had more ambitious 
 views for his beautiful daughter, tried in vain to break off 
 their intimacy, for meetings were contrived almost daily at 
 Devonshire House; and, as Georgiana Shipley wrote to 
 Lady Jones, " each day was a blank " on which they did not 
 take place. At length, seeing the hopeless state of his 
 daughter's affections, the Bishop was induced to invite 
 Francis Hare Naylor to Twyford. The following day he was 
 arrested for debt, while driving in the episcopal coach with 
 Georgiana and her parents. He was then forbidden the 
 house; but, on his release, he contrived to communicate 
 with his beloved by dressing up as a beggar, and appearing 
 at her carriage window, as it ploughed its way through the 
 muddy lanes between Winchester and Twyford. She recog- 
 nised him, and kissed her hand in the presence of her 
 family. The scene of indignation and reproach which fol- 
 lowed brought matters to a crisis. Robert Hare refused to 
 do anything for his son, but the Duchess of Devonshire gave
 
 94 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 them an annuity of ^200, with the promise of a place in 
 Ireland, and on this they married. The place in Ireland 
 never came ; and, soon after the marriage, they retired to 
 Carlsruhe, and afterwards to the north of Italy, where their 
 pittance was comparative riches. Here their eldest son was 
 born, at Vicenza, on January 6, 1786, and was baptized by 
 the names of Francis George in the following June, when 
 the Duchess of Devonshire, passing through Italy at the 
 time, officiated as his godmother. In 1792, the Hare- 
 Naylors proceeded to Rome, where Mrs. H. Naylor gave 
 birth (November 17) to her second son, called Augustus 
 William, after his royal godfather, Prince Augustus Frederick, 
 and Sir William Jones. 
 
 The first years she spent in Italy were devoted by Mrs. 
 Hare-Naylor to painting, and she has left many fine copies of 
 the pictures in different celebrated galleries. Her perfect 
 mastery of languages and immense knowledge enabled her to 
 enter fully into all the intellectual interests around her. 
 Rome afforded her the most entire enjoyment. The fol- 
 lowing verses, written during her stay there, remain among 
 her papers : 
 
 " What art thou, Rome ? An empire's cemet'ry ? 
 
 The skeleton of greatness still thou hast : 
 
 Thy shattered Coliseum stern and vast, 
 Thy long, long aqueducts from water free ! 
 Thy mould'ring fanes without a deity ! 
 
 Grey columns too, whose very names are pass'd, 
 
 Yet, still erect, their length'ning shadows cast, 
 As though they mark'd the hours of destiny. 
 
 " What art thou, Rome ? I look again around, 
 
 There meets mine eye the grave procession's gloom, 
 And in mine ear the swelling anthems sound,
 
 THE HARES OF HURSTMONCEAUX. 95 
 
 And nearer still the clouds of incense loom, 
 And lofty cupolas my mind astound : 
 
 What art thou, Rome ? a temple, or a tomb ? " 
 
 In 1795, wearied of wandering, the Hare-Naylors formed 
 a fixed residence at Bologna, where they could live more 
 economically than in the south. Bologna, which still main- 
 tains an intellectual supremacy over all the other cities of 
 Italy, was at that time the resort of many especially emi- 
 nent and learned persons who were attracted thither by the 
 university, and who formed a society at once literary and 
 agreeable. Chief among its eminent citizens was the 
 famous Mezzofanti, with whom the Hare-Naylors became 
 very intimate ; and it used to be one of the delights of 
 their little Francis, in his childhood, to swing the censer 
 upon the steps of the altar, when the future cardinal was 
 celebrating mass.* " At this time, also, the chief instruc- 
 tors in the Scuole Pie of Bologna were members of the 
 recently suppressed Society of Jesuits. In Spain the order 
 had been exiled long before it was suppressed, and its mem- 
 bers, taking refuge in Italy, were warmly welcomed in the 
 Papal States, and were led to establish themselves at Bologna 
 by finding in its schools a field of labour almost identical 
 with that of their own institution. One of the most 
 remarkable of these refugees was Father Emmanuele 
 Aponte, a native of Spain, who had been for many years 
 a member of the mission to the Philippine Islands. An 
 enthusiast in the study of Greek, Aponte possessed a solid 
 and critical knowledge of the language, of which he wrote 
 an excellent and practical grammar for the schools of the 
 
 Francis Hare's Reminiscences.
 
 96 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 university, frequently republished since his time; and it 
 was probably to this habit of close and critical examination, 
 which he acquired under Aponte's instruction, that his 
 pupil Mezzofanti owed the exact knowledge of the niceties 
 of the language, and the power of discriminating between 
 all the varieties of the Greek style, for which he became so 
 eminently distinguished." * Living with Aponte, as his 
 adopted daughter, was a lady whose acquirements were 
 even more remarkable than his own. This was Clotilda 
 Tambroni, whose bust and picture now decorate the walls of 
 the university, where, in spite of her sex (though not the 
 first lady so distinguished), she was appointed to the chair 
 of the professor of Greek, and where her lectures were 
 eagerly attended. In appearance and dress, if we may 
 judge by her portrait, she resembled the Sibyl of Domeni- 
 chino.t 
 
 With the utmost devotion Mrs. Hare-Naylor now gave 
 herself up to the education of her eldest son, whose wel- 
 fare, spiritual or temporal, was never absent from her 
 thoughts. To teach him, she again applied herself to the 
 classical studies, which had been the delight of her un- 
 married life, and with the assistance of Clotilda Tambroni, 
 for whom she formed a passionate friendship, acquired a 
 knowledge of .Greek and Roman literature almost un- 
 equalled in a woman. From the best Italian, Spanish, 
 French, and English authors she collected all passages 
 which she thought might prove useful for her son's edu- 
 
 * See Russell's Life of Mezzofanti. 
 
 t She lived till 1840, and is buried in the cemetery of Bologna, 
 where her tomb has a marble medallion and a long inscription.
 
 THE HARES OF HURSTMONCEAUX. 97 
 
 cation or guidance. She compiled a book of " Maxims " 
 for his constant reference, writing on the first page " As 
 for the diligent, their minds are at ease ; their time is 
 employed as they know it ought ; what they gain they enjoy 
 with a good conscience, and it wears well, nor do only the 
 fruits of their labours delight them, but even labour itself 
 becomes pleasant ; " * and " Nam csetera neque temporum 
 sunt, neque aetatum omnium neque locorum; haec studia 
 adolescentiam alunt, senectutem oblectant, secundas res 
 ornant, adversis perfugium ac solatium praebent ; delectant 
 domi, non impediunt foris, pernoctant nobiscum, peri- 
 grinantur, rusticantur." t Above all, Mrs. Hare-Naylor 
 sought to interest her son in religion, but on that subject 
 alone not to bewilder himself with useless inquiries. With 
 this view she also introduced in the beginning of her 
 maxim-book the following words of Seeker : " It is our duty 
 to believe with humility and simplicity what the Holy 
 Scripture hath taught us ; and to be contentedly ignorant of 
 what it doth not teach us, without indulging speculations or 
 conjectures, which will only perplex the subject." She 
 taught her little Francis early to compose prayers and medi- 
 tations of his own, and commit them to paper. Of these, 
 the following remains to us in his large round child's hand of 
 1795. "I beseech thee, O my God, to be indulgent to 
 what I have been : to assist me to amend what I am ; and, 
 of thy goodness, to direct what I shall be ; so that the love 
 of virtue and the love of thee may always be first in my 
 heart, Amen." 
 
 Before he was four years old Francis Hare had begun 
 * From Seeker. t Cicero pro Archia poeta. 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 98 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 to display the talents which afterwards distinguished him, 
 speaking (said his mother in writing to Lady Jones) Eng- 
 lish, French, and Italian with equal facility. Before he 
 was ten, he could read easily with his mother in all the 
 easier Greek and Latin classics, and he was familiar with 
 many of the best authors in French and Italian. The only 
 recreation he cared for was the work of a carpenter. He 
 had no young companions except during his fifth year, 
 which he passed in England with his parents, when a 
 childish friendship was begun with " Harry Temple " (after- 
 wards Lord Palmerston), which was never laid aside. At 
 Bologna his mother was his constant companion, and with 
 her, and her dog Smut, and her favourite bird in its cage, 
 he used to pass long days in the woods and olive gardens 
 near the town. The family group was painted thus by 
 Flaxman, whose friendship was one of Mrs. Hare-Naylor's 
 greatest pleasures, and whose advice and assistance added 
 much to the perfection of her paintings. It was for her 
 that he made his drawings of the Iliad and Odyssey. 
 
 To the little Francis, on his birthday of Jan. 6, 1795, his 
 mother addressed the lines : 
 
 " Beneath yon mountain's venerable brow, 
 
 The youthful oak adorns its native wood, 
 
 And guarded by that Power who bade it grow, 
 
 Defies the whirlwind and the raging flood. 
 
 Its trunk enlarges and its roots extend 
 
 As health and strength each vital part pervade : 
 
 In foliage rich the tufted boughs ascend, 
 
 And the gay sunbeams gild its verdant shade. 
 
 Thus, O my darling, comes the tenth glad year, 
 Which from thy birth receives its joyous date,
 
 THE HARES OF HURSTMONCEAUX. 99 
 
 While the loved object of thy parent's care, 
 Thy life has passed in childhood's happy state. 
 
 Thy ductile heart is fashion'd to revere 
 
 That Power benign on whom we all depend, 
 
 And thy young bosom glows with love sincere 
 
 Tow'rds God, thy Maker, Father, Judge, and Friend. 
 
 Blithe health is thine, and gaiety of heart, 
 With spirits light, as breath of fragrant morn, 
 
 And all the genius Nature can impart, 
 
 And all the charms, which playful youth adorn. 
 
 No tale of woe has pain'd thy tender ear, 
 
 No thought impure has stain'd thy spotless mind ; 
 
 Unleara'd in flattery and untaught to fear, 
 Yet mild to all, as loving all mankind. 
 
 Instructed virtue, more than fame to prize 
 To help the helpless, to relieve the opprest, 
 
 The use of wisdom, to make others wise, 
 The use of riches, to make others blest. 
 
 Yet, much I fear the ardour of thy soul, 
 
 Which prudence vain would check, and reason still, 
 
 Once left to lawless passion's fierce control, 
 May change the fervent love of good, to ill ; 
 
 Convert thy parent's imaged dream of joy 
 
 To deep regret and unavailing tears ; 
 Shade ev'ry virtue, ev'ry grace destroy, 
 
 And blast the promised harvest of thy years. 
 
 The vivid light'ning bursting o'er the plain 
 Resistless as wild passion's boundless tide, 
 
 Consumes the oak, of strength, of beauty vain, 
 And levels with the ground the forest's pride." 
 
 In the summer of 1795, Mrs. Hare-Naylor retired from 
 the heat of the plains to the valley of Valdagno near Vicenza, 
 and there she gave birth (September 13) to her third son, 
 Julius Charles.
 
 100 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 MRS. HARE-NAYLOR to LADY JONES. 
 
 "Valdagno, Oct. 10, 1795. My third boy is at present 
 the beauty of the whole family fine dark eyes and a lovely 
 skin. On Monday we are to have the christening, and a 
 great dinner afterwards. The Duchess of Brissac holds the 
 child, and is to be the only sponsor, for they will not admit 
 of Protestants standing even by proxy, and she is the only 
 Catholic I ever saw whom I could wish to answer for a 
 child of mine. She gives him the name of Julius a name 
 dear to her, as being her father's, and that of her only son, 
 whom she lost young. When we return to England I 
 shall have many drawings to show you, and any you like 
 will be yours, as much as myself and all which belongs to 
 ine, for my gratitude is only exceeded by your kindness. . . 
 We live so happy in each other, so happy in our children, 
 so unmolested by any extraneous tracasseries, that I often 
 doubt whether any change in our situation be desirable, 
 could I but be gratified in my earnest wish of once more 
 seeing you, my best friend and dearest sister. This place 
 much resembles the most beautiful and romantic parts of 
 North Wales. Hare and I ramble all day long, cross 
 torrents, and climb rocks, and converse with the peasants, 
 who are here a simple, intelligent, natural set of beings, 
 with better understandings and more goodness of heart 
 than any Venetian noble ; you cannot imagine the pleasure 
 it is to be able to comprehend their patois, which I now 
 speak to perfection." 
 
 On the Qth of November in the following year, a fourth 
 son, Marcus Theodore, was born at Bologna, and received 
 his name of Marcus from his godfather, the Marchese 
 Marescotti, a cittadino of Bologna, who had married Lady 
 Sophia Butler, a friend of his mother's.
 
 THE HARES OF HURSTMONCEAUX. 
 
 In 1797, Robert Hare died, and it was then discovered 
 that his intention of leaving everything he had to his 
 second wife was frustrated by the fact that she had un- 
 wittingly built Hurstmonceaux Place upon entailed land. 
 Upon the receipt of this news, the Hare-Naylors deter- 
 mined at once to set off for England, though it was a time 
 of war, and travelling difficult. They settled only to take 
 their little Augustus with them, for whose education Lady 
 Jones had undertaken to provide. 
 
 MRS. HARE-NAYLOR to LADY JONES. 
 
 Bologna, August, 1797. A very, very happy week have I 
 spent with my beloved friend, Madame de Brissac, who 
 came from Valdagno on purpose to visit us before her 
 return into France. We talked over many plans and built 
 many castles, and I was gratified, after a long absence, in 
 again enjoying all that social pleasure can bestow, in a 
 union of sentiment and principles. Hours passed in her 
 conversation seem to give one a foretaste of the happiness 
 
 to be enjoyed hereafter I have not mentioned your 
 
 kind offer with regard to my boy to any one in England, 
 and perhaps you had better not mention it either, because 
 if he is not so fortunate as to gain your affections when you 
 know him, I have still two remaining for you to choose from, 
 for the contributing to your happiness is as much my object 
 as the real good of my child. The account you give, my 
 beloved sister, of your own health and spirits renders me 
 doubly anxious to come to you, and I shall be most 
 thankful to God if my presence shall give you either com- 
 fort or pleasure, and I think it will both, because you will 
 see in me your own G., the child of your earliest affec- 
 tions unchanged from what I was when we parted, and
 
 102 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 preserving a grateful memory of the long series of kind- 
 nesses and favours you have unremittingly shown me." 
 
 Julius and Marcus were left with Betta, a trustworthy 
 Bolognese servant, under the eye of the Marescottis, and 
 Francis was placed in the house of Dom Emmanuele 
 Aponte, as a joint pupil to him and Clotilda Tambroni. 
 Nothing will give a better idea of the atmosphere in which 
 Mrs. Hare-Naylor brought up her children than a few 
 extracts from the letters of the little (half-Italian) Francis 
 to his parents. 
 
 FRANCIS HARE (aged eleven) to HIS MOTHER. 
 
 "Bologna, Sept. 16, 1797. Dear mama, I wish that you 
 and Pappa and Agustus are all arrived perfectly well in 
 England, and have finished the journey without any acci- 
 dent or quarrel. On Monday I went with Don Tineo and 
 the Rector to Ranizzi, which is really a very pretty place, 
 and after dinner we had a dancing bear. On Tuesday 
 morning we began our studies. Thucydides and Herodotus 
 I read with Dom Emmanuel together with the Spanish and 
 its grammar, Callimachus and Xenophon with the Clotilde, 
 and Hesiod by myself, and in Latin Horace. In the 
 evening we went up to see Betta and the children, and at 
 
 night after tea we read Sallust I hope that you will 
 
 soon settle your affairs and see Housemonseux, and write 
 me word how my friend the castle stands, and what classics 
 you have I mean those that the unnatural (for this is the 
 only epithet she merits) Mrs. Hare left you." 
 
 "Sept. 23, 1797. We go on very well in our studies, 
 which last every day at least seven and a half hours I 
 read eveiy day for one hour in the morning one of those
 
 THE HARES OF HURSTMONCEAUX. 103 
 
 prayers that you left me, and thirteen chapters in the Bible, 
 and two psalms, and some of the ' Grandeur de Dieu.' 
 Then from nine to two we continually study, in which time 
 we read Thucydides and Callimachus, which is a very fine 
 poet (but tell Pappa he will not understand it, and that I 
 hope, when he comes back, I will give him the choice of 
 any Greek authors, even one that I have not, and I will 
 certainly beat him ; but by that time Dom Emmanuel hopes 
 I may be a perfect Grecian) ; then we read Xenophon's 
 ' Cyropaidia,' which is sometimes obscure, and in Latin 
 Horace, which I agree with you is a very fine poet. 
 After dinner I read a little Hesiod by myself, and after 
 tea, if the Rector comes, we read Sallust ; if not, 
 Herodotus, which is the prettiest and most interesting 
 history I ever read, and written very beautifully." 
 
 " Oct. 21. Monday morning we went to see the casino 
 of the college with the Rector, Don Tineo, and Colorceo 
 (from whom I have learned to play at chess and at dama), 
 Marescalchi and Carlino, Padre Scandellari and Don Puero, 
 and the chaplain of the church of Castenazzo, where we 
 had a very good rural dinner. My brothers, both Jule and 
 Marcus, have come into the town, and I have seen the 
 house, which I did not much like, but the room where 
 Betta sleeps is not a bad one. 
 
 " Oct. 24. Dp ay tell me how Agustus goes on in learn- 
 ing and in goodness. Pray give me some news of the poor 
 old castle and of the gardens, and if you can find a room 
 for me to work in. Pray send me word how you like Eng- 
 land, and if it is disposed to change, for if it is I hope to 
 go over and serve my country. 
 
 " Jule loves especially Dom Emmanuel, and Marcus the 
 Clotilde. Jule is very fond of me. Pray give one kiss to 
 Agustus from us three. Jule shows great wish to lea miner, 
 for yesterday, when we went to the library of the college,
 
 104 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 he did nothing else but want to carry away some of the 
 books." 
 
 The next letter is signed " F. G. Hare. I attest and 
 subscribe myself a true English citizen and a perpetual 
 defender of its liberties, and never to be persuaded by the 
 tempting power of monarchy. Justice -fraternite ! An 
 English citizen who swears himself an enemy to all that 
 dare to touch the rights of the people. A preserver of the 
 English liberty and an eternal opposer to the encroaching 
 tyranny of the king and ministry, and of the detestable 
 parliament which now exists, which, except a few, are the 
 greatest raskels and slaves that ever existed, who for a little 
 money given them by ministry, will sell the sacred rights of 
 the people to tyrannism ; and if Pitt have any virtues, one 
 may say of him, as Cato says of Caesar, in Addison's famous 
 play, 
 
 ' Curs'd are his virtues, for they have undone his country.' " 
 
 (This, and all the other letters of young Francis, bear the 
 dates and months of the French Republic.) 
 
 "Nov. 17, 1797. I hope you are all very well, so are 
 Julius and Marcus. Jule knows very well all the letters. 
 
 " Every evening we go to see the Rector, who is not 
 well, upon which account Don Tineo shows all his goodness 
 in assisting the Rector. Don Tineo is certainly a man in 
 whom, without knowing him intimately, one does not find 
 out all the virtues a man of great talent, and indefatigable 
 towards study, and of great goodness. Together with a 
 good deal of learning, he is very humble. At first knowing 
 him he seems rather serious, but that is his temper ; but 
 knowing him, he is the mildest person you can imagine, and 
 his virtues are most shining in comparison with Don Puero, 
 who does not understand anything but about operas, and I
 
 THE HARES OF HURSTMONCEAUX. 105 
 
 may rightly think him one of the best friends I have. Pray 
 always remember me as I remember you." 
 
 " Dec. 1 6. Smut and the bird do very well, but the cat is 
 lost that Betta took to Bologna, to which you passed three 
 pauls a month. The other is up in the Casino getting very 
 beautiful and tame. I like my mathematick master much ; 
 he is one of the most famous in Italy, and the most famous 
 in Bologna for II Calcolo Differentiale and Integrale and 
 Algebra. We now study algebra problems, and he says 
 before the month of May he will make me, if I study, a 
 profound Algebrist, and then study geometry and consecu- 
 tively all the other parts of mathematicks. He wants punc- 
 tually done all he sets, and if not he redoubles the portion, 
 and makes me do it another time." 
 
 "Jan. 27, 1798. For Monday I have made a new divi- 
 sion of time. From seven to nine I do my penso ; from nine 
 to two, Greek and mathematicks; from three to seven, 
 French and Greek, or Latin and mathematicks, and read the 
 Bible ; then from seven to nine read, and at twelve go to 
 bed that I may be worthy when you come back of the 
 things I have asked you to bring me." 
 
 DOM EMMANUELS APONTE to MRS. HARE-NAYLOR 
 (from the Italian.) 
 
 "Sept. 16, 1797. Francis is well and happy, and most 
 diligent in his studies. Yesterday after dinner we all three 
 went to visit the two children, and found them most flourish- 
 ing. Julius constantly repeated, ' Mama is away, papa is 
 away, but Nono is at home,* Clotilde is at home, Betta is 
 at home.' As soon as he catches sight of me he runs to- 
 wards me quite breathless with joy. Marcus laughs, and 
 holds out his hands to snatch my cap from my head, and then 
 gives it back to me with gracefulness itself, to begin the 
 
 * Grandpapa Dom Emmanuele.
 
 106 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 same play over again. I cannot describe to you how well 
 Francis goes on, and his daily diligence is such that he will 
 have gone through all the best Greek authors with us in a 
 very short time. He is good, and obtains the love equally 
 of all the inmates of my house and of all who visit it." 
 
 CLOTILDA TAMBRONI to MRS. HARE-NAYI.OR. 
 
 " Oct. 28, 1797. At this moment my two dear children 
 have left the house Julius and Marcus, whom Betta brings 
 daily to see me. I love them more than ever, indeed I can- 
 not say how much I love them. They daily become more 
 beautiful, more graceful and full of life, and as they increase 
 in health so they grow in understanding. The Nono is 
 entirely devoted to Julius, who caresses him even more than 
 he does me ; but, on the other hand, Marcus never sees me 
 without being in a frenzy to jump into my arms, and to show 
 me his intense affection. He has acquired an incredible 
 strength and health, and I cannot restrain myself from 
 giving him all the kisses which his mother would give him 
 now, and indeed I do the same to my beautiful little Julius. 
 Betta takes great care of them, and they could not be in 
 better hands. Oh ! what a satisfaction it would be to you 
 if you could see them now, but since this is impossible, rest 
 peaceful and satisfied that they are as happy as if they were 
 before your own eyes. If I were their real mother I could 
 not love them more, and the very sight of those two little 
 angels fills my heart with such an intensity of joy that I for- 
 get every trouble I have ever had. Francis is perfectly well 
 and entirely happy. All who know him think that he has 
 grown much since you left; he studies hard, eats with 
 appetite, and takes walks with us or with Pipetto. He is 
 not without amusements which are suited to his disposition 
 and his tastes ; ir ieed, he is the beloved, the Benjamin of 
 every one in my house, and of all my visitors. Don Tineo,
 
 THE HARES OF HURSTMONCEAUX. 1 07 
 
 the Rector, and Colomeo love him sincerely and tenderly, 
 and the two first show him a thousand kindnesses, which he 
 gladly receives. He is becoming a good chess-player, and 
 amuses himself in this way every evening after his Greek 
 and Latin studies. In short, he is thoroughly good, and we 
 are perfectly satisfied with him. Your dog is well, your bird 
 is chirping. I have written all these trifles, knowing that 
 they would not be disagreeable to you, and knowing also 
 
 that Francis would not have the patience Love me, 
 
 and believe in the fulness of love which I feel for you and 
 your children, of whom I rejoice to be called the mother, as 
 I really am in affection." 
 
 EMMANUELS AP.ONTE to MRS. HARE-NAYLOR. 
 
 " Francis is the object of my care, of my thoughts, and of 
 my prayers, and I believe that he will reward all my labours 
 and the hope of his parents. He is good, industrious, and 
 employs every hour of the day in the manner for which I 
 have assigned it. From four to half-past five after dinner he 
 takes exercise, and goes out walking when the weather allows ; 
 in the evening he reads either Greek or Latin for two hours, 
 and his progress is an astonishment to the Rector, to Don 
 Tineo, and to Colomeo. All these love him much, and he 
 deserves their favour by the judicious manner in which he 
 
 behaves to them I am filled with love for the other 
 
 two little angels, and Julius interests me most of all, because 
 of his especial devotion to me, for he never sees me without 
 shouting out, 'Nono, Nono,' and he looks at his father's 
 picture, and kisses his tiny hand, calling out, ' Papa, papa.' 
 Then he asks for his letters, and picking out the M, says 
 mamma ; the P, papa ; the N, Nono ; the B, Betta ; the C, 
 Tilda. Oh ! what a beautiful lovable little being he is ! 
 
 "Jan. 6, 1798. This is the happy day on which our 
 Francis fulfils his twelfth year. May it please the Most
 
 I08 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 High to hear the fervent prayers which I offered this morn- 
 ing at his altar, that He would ever prolong in happiness 
 the days of this youth, that He would never leave him with- 
 out the guidance of his omnipotent hand, and that He would 
 so protect him with his favour, watch over and enlighten 
 him, that never losing a holy fear of his Maker, he may to- 
 day, and always, and every day, grow more and more con- 
 formed to the divine will, obedient to the sacred precepts, 
 and in the exercise of every virtue which belongs to that 
 citizen who would render himself pleasing to his parents, 
 beloved by his equals, and truly useful to his country. 
 Such, I am persuaded, and even more fervent than these, 
 are your prayers for him. 
 
 "You may truly rejoice in having one like the Clotilde 
 near your dear children. Francis is certainly deeply attached 
 to her, and I can say with sincerity, that I believe the Cas- 
 sandra* and Don Tineo are the two persons he most 
 thoroughly esteems and appreciates. Francis reads with 
 the Clotilde the hymns of Callimachus, the Cyropedia of 
 Xenophon, and some odes of Horace, taking real delight in 
 it himself, and thus without interval he employs all the 
 morning. He never goes to bed before ten, and sometimes 
 it is almost eleven ; but I have no need to call him in the 
 morning, on the contrary, he is up before me, at six A.M. at 
 the latest. Then, whilst I am at church, he says his prayers, 
 reads the Bible, washes, and on my return has his breakfast 
 of a bowl of milk, to which a little chocolate is added, with 
 bread and butter ; and then without loss of time we all three 
 read Thucydides till half-past ten o'clock, when my young 
 Spanish pupil comes. Then he goes into the next room with 
 Cassandra for the lessons already spoken of, until the young 
 man is gone, when we immediately return to our united 
 
 * Mrs. Hare-Naylor's playful name for Clotilda Tambroni.
 
 THE HARES OF HURSTMONCEAUX. log 
 
 studies till two o'clock strikes, when we dine on soup, a boiled 
 and a roast dish, and fruit. After this he amuses himself a 
 little with chess, or if the weather allows, we all three go out 
 to walk together ; when we return home we have tea, and 
 
 our lessons recommence I cannot express the 
 
 love which fills me for all these your children. Julius is 
 most passionately devoted to him, whom he always honours 
 by the sweet name of Nonoro. Marcus now also knows me 
 quite well, and when asked ' Where is the Nono ? ' turns 
 round and points his finger at me with a most sweet smile. 
 .... I cannot conclude without repeating a thousand 
 times, that I am more than satisfied with the care which 
 Betta bestows upon my dear little 'nipotini.' She is indeed 
 a treasure." 
 
 From CLOTILDA TAMBRONI. 
 
 "fan 13, 1798. The dear Marcus is becoming so fat and 
 strong that he seems much older than he is. He tries to 
 speak, and is always laughing, and the friend of everybody, 
 and in their little struggles, he can conquer Julius, being the 
 stronger of the two. This last preserves his angelic beauty, 
 expressing his feelings in words, of which he gains more 
 daily, and it is impossible to imagine a more heavenly little 
 creature." 
 
 It is singular that in the numerous letters of little Francis 
 to his mother, in which he is most lavish in his praises of all 
 his other friends at Bologna, there is no word of Mezzofanti, 
 whom he continued to see constantly, and from whom he 
 occasionally had lessons. Russell tells how Francis Hare 
 spoke of the great linguist in after life. He said that " with 
 the keys of the knowledge of every nation in his hand, he 
 never unlocked any real treasures " that in all the count-
 
 110 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 less languages he spoke, " he never said anything, that he 
 left no work or none of any value behind him ; that he was 
 utterly ignorant of philology ; that his theology was mere 
 scholasticism; that he had no idea of Biblical criticism; and 
 that even as a critical Greek scholar, he was very deficient." 
 The only published composition of Mezzofanti was a pane- 
 gyric on Dom Emmanuele Aponte. 
 
 Owing to the war and to the revolutionary sentiments with 
 which little Francis insisted upon heading his correspondence, 
 many of the letters from England were intercepted at this time. 
 It was now two years since Bonaparte had taken possession 
 of Bologna. At first the Bolognese were flattered by a re- 
 vival of their old municipal institutions ; but before the end 
 of 1796, the name of Bologna was merged in the "Republica 
 Cisalpina," of which in 1797 it became the " Dipartimento 
 del Reno." The new rulers exacted from all employe's an 
 oath of fidelity to the Republic ; this was especially enforced 
 with ecclesiastics, and deprivation was the consequence of a 
 refusal. Mezzofanti was so far exempted that any seeming 
 act of adhesion to the new state of things would in his case 
 have been accepted instead of an oath, in order to retain 
 his services in the University, but he declined it and was 
 deprived of his offices about this time.* His friends Clotilda 
 Tambroni and Emmanuele Aponte displayed equal firmness, 
 and were both deprived of their professorial chairs. Their 
 chief means of subsistence was thus swept away, and the 
 
 * On leaving Bologna, Mezzofanti went to Paris, where he became 
 librarian to the family of Count Marescalchi, one of whose sons 
 Carlino had been his pupil. He was made cardinal 1838, died March 
 15, 1848, and is buried in St. Onofrio at Rome.
 
 THE HARES OF HURSTMONCEAUX. Ill 
 
 little household fell into continual trouble, almost into abso- 
 lute privation, from want of money, the supplies sent out 
 from England failing to arrive. The faithful Clotilda Tam- 
 broni, however, continued to do her best to support the 
 family, and worked for the children of her friend, and 
 Father Aponte, though almost wanting necessaries for him- 
 self, and living in continued dread of the order to return to 
 Spain, which came a few months after, never relaxed his 
 care of young Francis, though sometimes sorely tried by the 
 insubordination which he now began to show. 
 
 EMMANUELE APONTE to MRS. HARE-NAYLOR. 
 
 "March 17, 1798. If Francis had been willing to obey 
 me, and not always write with republican phrases, our letters 
 would perhaps have arrived safely. To-day we receive your 
 favour of the i6th of February, and with it the note for ^25. 
 Truly, the Cassandra was in great need of it, not knowing 
 how we could live through the ensuing month, if this help 
 had not arrived ; but if I am not mistaken, this will suffice us 
 for some time, though it will not allow of our paying the 
 debts we have contracted. I am partly glad that our letters 
 are delayed, and I hope that this may be the first to come 
 to hand, because in them I spoke of faults in Francis, which 
 I now see corrected, especially in the point of religion, for 
 he never passes a day without saying his prayers in a morn- 
 ing, or, what is better, as soon as he rises, he goes into the 
 church and remains there half-an-hour and then returns home 
 very quietly and willingly. I now never hear any irreligious 
 sentiment from his lips, nor is it necessary for me to order 
 or suggest anything, but he does it of his own accord. This 
 change began after he went with me, with Don Giovanni 
 Tineo and Colomeo, to the convent of St. Catherine, 
 where the sisters promised me to pray to God for him,
 
 112 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 and I believe that they do so most fervently, and I know 
 that there are many devout spirits among them. Nothing 
 can be more agreeable to me than to hear how soon your 
 Excellencies think of returning to seek your dear children." 
 
 "March 24. Francis is good, good, good; and I am 
 now entirely satisfied with his conduct in everything. He 
 is respectful, obedient, quiet, has no follies in his head, and 
 gives me no anxiety, so that I almost repent of having 
 written of the faults which I now see amended. But not the 
 less would I thank his excellent parents for their last letters, 
 which produced the greatest effect upon him, so that I saw 
 him weeping bitterly, and was obliged to console him. 
 The few lines written by his mother pierced him to the 
 heart. . . . 
 
 " All the emigrants are driven out of this Republic, and 
 are also exiled from the Romagna. My chair is at an end, 
 for they will not employ foreign professors, by which my 
 income is greatly diminished, and I fear that I may perhaps 
 be obliged to return to my country, or to go somewhere 
 else. For these reasons I would urge your return to this 
 place as soon as possible. The Rector does a thousand 
 kindnesses to Francis, inviting him to dinner every Sunday, 
 and sometimes taking him to the theatre. Don Tineo is 
 setting out for Spain very soon : we shall lose in him a true 
 friend, and Francis one of those who love him most. 
 Marcus continues to be the delight of every one, and this 
 morning has been running about alone all over the house, 
 and galloping backwards and forwards between my room 
 and that of the Cassandra, calling out ' Tilda, Tilda.' I am 
 astonished at the way in which he understands everything 
 and explains himself after his own fashion. The goldfinch 
 sings and is well, but Smuth (Smut) ran away last week and 
 followed some strangers to Modena, whence he was brought 
 back to me this morning. . . ."
 
 THE HARES OF HURSTMOKCEAUX. 113 
 
 " May 12, 1798. I have found a very respectable place 
 where I can leave Francis, under eyes which will carefully 
 watch over his conduct, besides the surveillance which he 
 will receive from Count Fava and from Scandellari. I have 
 put off my departure to the utmost possible limit, but I can- 
 not defer it beyond the last day of May or the beginning of 
 June. Your Excellencies may well conceive what is my 
 greatest source of anguish at present, if they reflect a little 
 upon the changed circumstances of this country, and the in- 
 sufficiency of the sum of money which they have sent me. 
 We are absolutely penniless ! The Rector's fate is also 
 hanging by a thread, and there are circumstances which 
 prevent my venturing to trouble him. I have written two 
 letters to ask help from Marescotti, and he has now sent me 
 a well-weighed and deliberate negative. Fava also is not in 
 condition to lend me even the smallest sum. Thus no hope 
 remains tor me if it is not in one single resource, and that 
 is in imploring De Lucca (the banker) to have the kindness 
 to advance me a sum sufficient for the decent maintenance 
 of the children for two months, by which time I trust that 
 we may receive from you a less scanty remittance than the 
 last, or a determination to recall your children. If this 
 hope to which I cling fail us, we are absolutely lost, and I 
 know not where to turn to. I shall endeavour to obtain the 
 advance of 150 scudi if I can, that I may if possible have 
 some margin, and provide against any unusual expenses 
 which may occur. My health is still very feeble, and my 
 powers are so weakened by illness, that I am unable to give 
 Francis his lessons, and let the Cassandra take my place 
 and make him read at least two hundred verses of Homer 
 daily. Senni* is in despair from want of money. He at- 
 tempted to make a journey into Tuscany in the hope of re- 
 
 * The Hare-Naylor's Bolognese man-servant, who had married Mrs. 
 H. X.'s English maid. 
 
 VOL. 1. I
 
 114 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 covering part of that of which he was robbed at Radicofani, 
 but he has returned with empty hands, and with the expense 
 of his journey in addition. Soon they will publish a law 
 here which we have already seen in the Milanese news- 
 papers, which will impose a fresh duty upon letters, 
 especially on those which come and go beyond the limits 
 of the Cisalpina, and which will pay the triple of what they 
 cost at first; whence I must entreat you for the future only 
 to write on a quarter of a sheet to save expense. Francis is 
 good and obedient, but is becoming idle in his studies, and, 
 from what the Cassandra tells me, has gone back much in 
 the few weeks in which I have been ill in bed. In health 
 he is perfectly well, and so are the little Julius and Marcus, 
 who become daily more beautiful, more lovable, and more 
 winning. The Clotilda can scarcely bear to be separate*' 
 from her dear Marcus, she is so entirely devoted to him : 
 he asks for ' bread,' ' bonbon,' and things of the sort. . . . 
 I repeat once more that you must make up your minds what 
 to do, and must do something at once that these little angels 
 may not suffer, and that we who are so much interested in 
 their well-being, may be set free from our anxieties." 
 
 On receiving this last letter of Aponte the Hare-Naylors 
 hastened their return to Bologna, where the admirable Dom 
 Emmanuele gave up his charge of Francis to his parents in 
 person, before leaving with Clotilda Tambroni for Parma, 
 whence they proceeded in the following year to Valencia. 
 
 EMMANUELE APONTE to FRANCIS HARE. 
 
 "Parma, July 5, 1798. I received your most welcome 
 letter from Bologna of the 2nd, written in Spanish, but 
 which, ctpTycrerai TO aXrjdfQ, seems to me to have been 
 dictated by the polyglott citizen. Nevertheless it has given
 
 1HE HARES OF HURSTMONCEAUX. 115 
 
 me the greatest pleasure, because it shows a grateful re- 
 collection of me which I think I have deserved. Perhaps 
 in this, as in so many other things, that old proverb is true, 
 ' One knows one's good things when one loses them.' 
 But if you would do what would be most pleasing to me of 
 all, it would be, not so much to remember me, as to re- 
 collect those maxims of sound virtue which you have heard 
 from me so many times. Entire,, sincere, and hearty sub- 
 mission to your parents ; kindness and courtesy towards all ; 
 familiarity with and confidence in no one whom you do not 
 know to be honourable and virtuous ; continual restraint 
 over your little passions, and most of all over your tongue, 
 which you should never allow to run away with you into 
 evil speaking or discontented expressions, which should 
 abhor deceit and lying, always mindful of the precept, 
 TO croijua i^euSdyutvov /xicrei /cat cbroirreivfi *ri)v i/'i'X 7 ? v but, 
 above all, fear of the Most High God and perfect faith 
 in his words, especially in those which come to us inscribed 
 in the Gospel : this is what I would desire for you : this it 
 is which will make you a useful member of society, this it is 
 which will make you grow in favour with God and man. 
 Add to this the love of study: let no day pass without read- 
 ing with attention at least fifty lines of Homer, and some 
 passages in Isocrates or Demosthenes, and then I, though 
 absent from you in body, shall be near you in spirit, and 
 you may picture me and see me always by your side just as 
 you saw me, when we were together in the middle room of 
 the Casa Campeggi. 
 
 " I would beg your dear mother to receive my most 
 respectful salutations, and speak the name of Nono with 
 a hundred kisses to Julius, as well as to my sweetest 
 Marcus. I would not impress upon you, because I am sure 
 that it is needless, that you should never quarrel with your 
 brothers. Dear children ! how it goes to my heart not to
 
 Il6 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 see them ! Would that Heaven may hear my prayers, and 
 render them as prosperous and virtuous, as from my heart I 
 desire. They were tenderly loved by me, and their pictures 
 will ever be stamped in my memory. To the poor and 
 good Betta I would send a salutation, assuring her that 
 I can never forget her constant care of my dear 
 'nipotini.' Farewell, my dear Francis, be well and 
 happy, and think that in every time and place I am your 
 true friend, 
 
 " E. M. APONTE." 
 
 From Padua, Aponte returned to Spain, whence his next 
 letter. 
 
 " Valencia, March 5, 1799. My dear, my dearest 
 Francis, It is impossible to tell the comfort your last 
 letter has been to me. I can only say that your image, 
 with that of your excellent parents, is always engraven on 
 my heart ; that Francis, the little Julius, and Marcus are 
 continually before the eyes of my spirit, and that I cannot 
 often restrain my tears at the recollection of my four little 
 angels. I never thought to have loved anything so much, 
 at least with the tenderness which I feel. Everything that 
 concerns you is most interesting to me. I rejoice in hearing 
 of your advancement in learning mathematics especially I 
 am anxious that you should study thoroughly, but that you 
 should not the less continue your reading in Greek for my 
 sake ; read, indeed, Isocrates, because he appears to be the 
 favourite orator in Padua,* but I should be more anxious 
 that you should suck the sugar from Demosthenes, whose 
 Seivon/e will be most delightful to you; with the help of 
 the Greek professor endeavour to penetrate to the founda- 
 tions of his style, of his legal phrases, of his intellect ; and 
 
 Francis was removed to Padua when Aponte left Bologna.
 
 THE HARES OF HURSTMONCEAUX. 117 
 
 then without difficulty if you wish it (and you ought to wish 
 it) you may read Thucydides by yourself, without neglecting 
 the occasional reading of the poets, which will serve not 
 only as a relief and recreation amid your other studies, but 
 for practical use in life and its labours, if you learn like the 
 bee to collect from their flowers the juice which forms that 
 sweet, strengthening, and life-giving honey, sweeter than 
 sugar. But that which I have more at heart than anything 
 else, is none other, you well know, than your progress in 
 virtue. You are already beginning to enter upon young 
 manhood : your passions will daily become stronger : if you 
 do not make a courageous stand now, there will be danger 
 lest they should get the upperhand, and lest, when you wish 
 to restrain them, it may be too late. Read with attention 
 the ' Ercole al bivio,' which you will find amongst the 
 works of Xenophon. Or if you do not wish to read it, 
 listen to the advice of your mother, submit to the will of 
 your father, consider how much you are indebted to your 
 parents, and how both nature and the law of God call upon 
 you to honour and please them, persuaded that you cannot 
 show your love to them better than by proving your under- 
 standing, appreciation, and love of what is right ..... Our 
 affairs are still not in the state we hoped for, and will 
 take time to set in order; but the Clotilde hopes to 
 return to her country, and I do not lose the hope, so 
 I flatter myself (who knows) o-vv e<3 of being able once 
 more to give you a tender embrace before closing my 
 eyes nevertheless it should be the care of the younger 
 of us to give this consolation to the old man. Fare- 
 well, my dear one, Ippoxro, KCU fj.fitn/](ro TOU 0tAovrrds ere 
 
 The same sheet contains the following from Clotilda 
 Tambroni to Mrs. H. Naylor :
 
 Tl8 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 " My dearest lady cannot imagine with what overflowing 
 feelings of pleasure and tenderness 1 read her affectionate 
 lines, or how precious they are to me. If you desire to see 
 me again, I do indeed desire it perhaps with even greater 
 eagerness, and yet I cannot conceal from myself that I feel 
 it almost impossible, as well because of the difficulties of 
 the journey to England, as because filial love urges me to 
 return as soon as possible to my poor mother, and to assist 
 her, if not otherwise, at least with my personal care in her 
 old age. Certainly next to my mother, there is no one 
 nearer my heart than yourself, and every individual of your 
 dear family. I do indeed love you and your children, 
 whom I constantly remember, and never without a deep 
 sigh in the grief which I feel in not seeing them, and the 
 almost certain probability that I shall never embrace them 
 again. My love for your dear children must, I think, be 
 something like the love of a real mother, and even while I 
 write of them, my eyes are blinded with tears. But one 
 must resign oneself, and say, ' Sic erat in fatis.' You will 
 nevertheless bear me in your heart, and will rest assured 
 that I bear you in mine. I beg you to give a thousand 
 kisses for me to each of your, and my, children. Oh, my 
 most precious Marcus, who will already have forgotten us, 
 tell him that he is engraven upon my inmost heart, and 
 that I shall always be, even though far off, his second 
 mother; to my dear little Julius say that I love him with 
 my whole soul, and to my sweetest Francis that I shall feel 
 the tenderest affection for him to the last moment of my 
 life ; in one word, that I look upon them always as my own 
 property, and that their happiness is mine. What is my 
 dearest little Augustus doing? .... May you be the 
 happiest of all mothers in seeing these dear children 
 healthy, happy, and crowned with spiritual blessings, and 
 together with your husband, may you enjoy a long life of
 
 THE HARES OF HURSTMONCEAUX. 1 19 
 
 maternal love, for their happiness, and for my comfort 
 Never, I entreat you, let me be far from your remembrance, 
 and believe me your true friend and sister, 
 
 "'THE CASSANDRA.'" 
 
 A year later Aponte and Clotilda Tambroni had fulfilled 
 their wish of returning to Bologna. 
 
 EMMANUELE APONTE to FRANCIS G. HARE. 
 
 "Bologna, May 15, 1800. . . I am more than persuaded 
 that you could never even suspect me of forgetting you. . . . 
 You know me well enough, and the sincerity of my affec- 
 tion. I answered your former letter as soon as I received 
 it, with that tenderness and pleasure which true friends feel 
 who believe that they deserve, as I think I do from you, 
 the name of a second father. I congratulated you on your 
 love of study, and I urged a choice of the best teachers 
 upon you with the same zeal and anxiety for your advan- 
 tage which I felt while I had still the care of you. In 
 reading I would urge you, as a help to your memory, to set 
 aside a little extract book or two, for making copies of the 
 passages which strike or please you most, especially in re- 
 gard to morals, politics, and laws; because thus you will 
 form for yourself a little treasury, which will always be use- 
 ful, and you will show your diligence and application 
 without danger of losing the riches you have acquired, be- 
 sides the most important point of all that of setting apart 
 the best maxims for the guidance of all your actions, and 
 thus guarding yourself against the attacks of passion or of 
 vice. In short, it is only folly to struggle after light, if that 
 very light leaves us in our mire, and does not serve to guide 
 us through its dangers. Let us be wise ; but let us be wise 
 above all in that which may render us useful to the society 
 in which we live, and especially, which may make us useful
 
 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 to ourselves. God be thanked, I am tolerably well in 
 health, but rather troubled with deafness, and sometimes 
 with gout; I work constantly at my grammar, but do not 
 know when I can finish it, as the publishers are now so un- 
 willing to undertake works of that description. Mezzofanti 
 is perpetually learning fresh languages : he has learnt Polish,, 
 Hungarian, German, Russian, Armenian, and Egyptian, &c., 
 in addition to those he knew before. He teaches the son 
 of Count Ranizzi, and he and his pupil Pirino salute you, 
 with Don Angelo, the Rector, the Professors, and all the 
 students of Greek. . . . Never, when you can, omit to give 
 the news of yourself and your studies, and your advance 
 tfiTTpoa-Otv TOV eov KO.I roiv av@punr<av, ' Vale igitur, mi Fran- 
 cisce, et mei fac sis memor.' 
 
 Thus much is introduced here from the letters of Aponte 
 and Clotilda Tambroni because it was to their early training 
 that the brothers felt they owed so many of the principles 
 which guided their after life, and which Francis transmitted 
 to the others, who were too young to remember more than 
 the almost parental affection of the " Nono " and the 
 " Clotilde." 
 
 It was in 1794, while she was still residing at Bologna, 
 that Mrs. Hare-Naylor received the news of the death of 
 her brother-in-law, Sir William Jones. He had written to 
 Elizabeth Shipley, his wife's sister, that he talked " of 1 790 as 
 the happy limit of his residence in the unpropitious climate 
 of India;"* but this period was afterwards indefinitely 
 prolonged. In December, 1793, the health of Lady 
 Jones was so affected by the climate that a return to 
 England was pronounced to be the only means of preserving 
 * Letter to Mrs. E. Shipley, Sept. 7, 1786.
 
 THE HARES OF HURSTMONCEAUX. 121 
 
 her life. She embarked, therefore, for England, Sir William 
 being exceedingly anxious for her departure, though he had 
 previously declared that if they were compelled to separate, 
 he should " feel like a man with a dead palsy on one of his 
 sides."* He hoped to follow his wife in the course of the 
 next summer, but in the spring was attacked with inflamma- 
 tion of the liver, and died April 27, 1794. " He was found 
 lying on his bed in a posture of meditation ; and the only 
 symptom of remaining life was a small degree of motion in 
 the heart, which, after a few moments, ceased, and he ex- 
 pired without a pang or groan. His bodily suffering, from 
 the complacency of his features and the ease of his attitude, 
 could not have been severe ; and his mind must have de- 
 rived consolation from those sources where he had been in 
 the habit of seeking it, and where alone, in our last mo- 
 ments, it can ever be found. "f Sir W. Jones was only 
 forty-seven at the time of his death. He was buried at Cal- 
 cutta. A monument was erected to him in St. Paul's by 
 the Directors of the East India Company, and by his widow 
 in the ante-chapel of University College, at Oxford, where 
 there are two portraits of him, both of which have been 
 engraved. The following verses were written to his memory 
 by Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire, with whom he had 
 long kept up a correspondence : 
 
 " Unbounded learning, thoughts by genius framed, 
 
 To guide the bounteous labours of his pen, 
 
 Distinguish'd him, whom kindred sages named J 
 
 ' The most enlightened of the sons of men.' 
 
 Letter to Mrs. E. Shipley, Sept. 7, 1786. 
 
 t Lord Teignmouth's " Life of Sir W. Jones." J Dr. Johnson.
 
 122 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 " Upright through life, as in his death resign'd, 
 His actions spoke a pure and ardent breast ; 
 Faithful to God and friendly to mankind, 
 
 His friends rever'd him, and his country bless'd. 
 
 " Admired and valued in a distant land, 
 
 His gentle manners all affection won ; 
 The prostrate Hindu own'd his fostering hand, 
 And science mark'd him for her fav'rite son. 
 
 " Regret and praise the general voice bestows, 
 And public sorrows with domestic blend ; 
 But deeper yet must be the grief of those 
 Who, while the sage they honour'd, loved the friend." 
 
 The desolation which Lady Jones now experienced, and 
 the desire of benefiting her favourite sister by undertaking 
 the expenses of his education, induced her to make the 
 offer of adopting the little Augustus Hare, and to desire 
 that he should accompany his parents when they left Bologna 
 for England. From their detailed letters to the little Francis, 
 the following passages are taken : 
 
 " The Red Tower, Altorf, Sept. 22, 1797. We arrived at 
 Altorf before dark. I believe it would be, of all others, the 
 most economical spot to inhabit, since you find no food 
 either for vanity, taste, or learning, not an article of luxury 
 to be purchased, and not one bookseller's shop, even for 
 almanacks or magazines. Yesterday morning we embarked 
 on the lake, with an idea of going to Lucerne ; but the wind 
 being contrary, and threatening to blow hard, we were pru- 
 dent enough to change our plans, and disembark at Brunnen, 
 after three hours' navigation. We there found a cart to 
 convey our luggage, and walked to the town of Schweitz. 
 We stopped a moment at the chapel built in memory of 
 William Tell, and Augustus kissed the ground on which he 
 stood, when, escaping from tyranny and injustice, he had
 
 THE HARES OF HURSTMOXCEAUX. 123 
 
 the boldness to throw himself, with his child, into the stormy 
 lake, and brave the waves, less cruel than mankind." 
 
 " Zurich. We have been this morning to visit the cele- 
 brated M. Lavater, and I scarcely ever saw a man possessed 
 of more fire of genius, joined to a greater simplicity of 
 manners. He is the author of a celebrated work upon 
 physiognomy, and pretends to discover, in a very great 
 degree, the human character from the features of the face. 
 As we had no introduction, the regard with which he re- 
 ceived us was very flattering. You may believe I was 
 anxious to show him the heads of my four angels.* He 
 wrote two very pretty lines in German upon them, but said 
 that he had not sufficient time to examine them separately. 
 He only said that your head was a physiognomy to under- 
 stand Greek well, and that Marcus would give me the most 
 trouble of all four. Pray tell my dear Cassandra this pro- 
 phecy of her son. At parting he gave me a present of 
 several of his smaller works on religious subjects, and we 
 have settled a correspondence for the future." 
 
 " Carlsruhe, Oct. 2. Often, in the course of this journey, 
 have I thanked God for having inspired me with the reso- 
 lution to separate from my boys, and to prefer their good to 
 the fond indulgence of having them with me. You, my 
 dear Francis, would have lost some of the most precious 
 hours of your life, that part which is to fit you for what you 
 are to be hereafter and the fatigue for my two babies 
 would have been beyond their years to bear. My poor little 
 Augustus has suffered much from Basle hither. . . . One 
 night we were sent on from the station we had intended to 
 stop at, every room being taken ; and about eleven at night 
 we arrived, in a hard rain, at a village called Appenweyer ; 
 
 * A picture by the Bolognese artist Friuli, in which the Four 
 Brothers are thus represented, and which is still in possession of the 
 family.
 
 124 -MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 every soul was gone to rest, and, after repeated callings, we 
 were answered that not a bed could be had. We then de- 
 manded horses to proceed ; they said that was impossible. 
 as we could not pass the next village, and our only hope o 1 
 comfort was in my travelling-bed, for me and Augustus, 
 when, on opening it, we found the rain had penetrated in 
 every part. It was quite a moment of despair, when, for- 
 tunately, the noise I made disturbed the slumbers of a 
 French officer. He entered very good-naturedly into our 
 distress, abandoning to us his own room, with three beds, 
 and sleeping himself on the floor on his coat. A French 
 soldier was equally obliging in procuring us a light, and 
 unloading the carriage, yet we had to suffer much from 
 cold and hunger. To this night I owe a severe cold 
 and toothache, which confines me to my room, while 
 your papa is gone to dine with the Margrave of Baden. 
 You will often have heard us speak of Carlsruhe as the 
 place where we passed the summer before you were born. 
 It is built in a circular form, the palace forming the centre, 
 from which the streets proceed in rays. The plan is cer- 
 tainly beautiful, but the buildings are in general inelegant, 
 and the plan is too aristocratical to please me. However, 
 the Margrave is an excellent man, who lives economically, 
 and studies to promote the good of his subjects. He has a 
 son just your age, and I had promised myself much plea- 
 sure in seeing him, and comparing him with my Francis. 
 When we arrive in England, I shall hope to find a long and 
 interesting journal of all you do, and all you think ; it will 
 improve you in the facility of writing English, and it will 
 continue you in the habit of treating your parents with that 
 confidence which their indulgence and affection have a right 
 to claim. I expect to hear all your faults candidly told, 
 that my advice may assist you in mending and correcting 
 them ; if you tell me you are always good, I shall not be-
 
 THE HARES OF HURSTMONCEAUX. 125 
 
 lieve it, for it is neither for your age, nor for human frailty, 
 but I hope to hear that you are attentive to everything 
 which is said by your excellent friends, and that when your 
 spirits lead you to transgress or slight that advice, you are 
 repentant and concerned. This I have a right to hope from 
 your good sense and good heart, and if I hear otherwise 
 you will disappoint me." 
 
 "Oct. 5. Still at Carlsruhe, my dear Francis, and still 
 suffering much, yet to-morrow we have fixed to recommence 
 our journey, for as quiet and rest do not cure me, it is but 
 suffering a little more, and we get on, though God knows 
 which road we are now to take. I never saw your papa lose 
 his courage so totally, and I shall not be surprised any 
 morning to set out for Hamburgh, that he may go a road he 
 knows to be open, no matter how far round ; indeed, he will 
 have one proverb on his side, ' The farthest way about is 
 the nearest way home;' and as to me, I suffer so much, that 
 having now pain added to fatigue, I feel the indifference of 
 desperation, and care not where we go all I pray is that 
 at last we may arrive safe in England. There is every ap- 
 pearance of hostilities recurring, and, on the part of Austria, 
 with faint prospect of success, and no one doubts seeing 
 the tree of liberty planted at Vienna before Christmas. It 
 may be planted anywhere with my good wishes, except at 
 Carlsruhe, and here I should be sorry to see it ; indeed, 
 would every sovereign imitate the Margrave of Baden, and 
 seek like him to reign in the hearts of his subjects, he need 
 but little fear either French troops or French principles. 
 His son, who I told you was nearly your age, has the disad- 
 vantage of being an only son, and his parents' too fond in- 
 dulgence promises to ruin their best hopes caprice they 
 call genius, passion passes for spirit, and so on. How much, 
 my dear Francis, is such a boy to be pitied, and what grati- 
 tude do you owe to the good Dom Emmanuele, who loves
 
 126 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 you for your own good ! Tell me all and everything. Salute 
 affectionately il Nono and la madre dei miei figli, and be 
 assured your papa and I love you most tenderly." 
 
 " Saarlibre, Oct. 10. I never saw your papa better pleased 
 than when we quitted the Austrian lines, and entered the 
 French, and now everything goes well, and he is as happy 
 as possible, conversing with every soldier and every officer 
 he meets, and confessing with me, how much the liberty 
 of thinking improves the human mind, and how much 
 superior is the republican to the automedons we have 
 parted from." 
 
 " Morlatner, Oct. n. It is a pleasant sight to travel 
 through France, and to behold the comfort and opulence of 
 the farmers and peasants ; the ground is everywhere well 
 cultivated, and herds of cattle descend into the villages at 
 evening, and at every poor man's house stop his cows, his 
 sheep, his hogs, and his geese. Indeed, my dear Francis, 
 I am much surprised at the general appearance of comfort 
 which prevails among the peasantry, who were formerly poor 
 and oppressed, but now seem rich and comfortable. They are 
 perhaps the only class of society who have really profited by 
 the revolution, but their situation is surprisingly ameliorated. 
 .... At Metz a band of military music played at our 
 door, 'pour 1'honneur L'Angleterre.' . . . With honour, 
 courage, and generosity, those virtues of ancient chivalry, 
 may my four sons possess those solid virtues, which render 
 life happiest in a private station." 
 
 " Avesnes, Oct. 14. We continue advancing fast on our 
 journey without any difficulty or impediment; everyplace 
 as quiet as in perfect peace, the churches everywhere open, 
 and the fast observed on Fridays and Saturdays so strict, 
 even at the inns, as to make us fare very ill. Sunday too is 
 kept as a fete, but all shops are open, and a man works, 01 
 goes to church, or amuses himself as he likes, in short, I
 
 THE HARES OF HURSTMONCEAUX. 127 
 
 perceive scarce any alteration, except that people talk 
 politics and are discontented as in England. As for me, I 
 am heartily sick of travelling, and look forward to no com- 
 fort, until I can again give my blessing to my Francis and 
 his two dear brothers." 
 
 ''Lisle. My next letter will, if God pleases, be dated 
 from London. Augustus talks very often of you, and tells 
 every one he loves you best of all. He is very well again, 
 and much amused with the windmills. Adieu, my dearest 
 boy. I recommend you always in my prayers to the care of 
 God Almighty." 
 
 As soon as the Hare-Naylors arrived in England, they pro- 
 ceeded to Hurstmonceaux. It seems that they had never 
 before understood how completely the castle was a ruin, and 
 great was their anger at beholding it, and bitter their resent- 
 ment at the injustice of their stepmother, upon whom the 
 little Francis was encouraged to write Greek epigrams at 
 Bologna. Among other injuries, Mrs. Henrietta Hare, in a fit 
 of jealousy, had destroyed the oil portrait of her predecessor, 
 the beautiful Miss Selman, only preserving the figure of her 
 child (Francis H. Naylor) riding upon a stick. With the 
 " Place " itself they were much pleased. 
 
 MRS. HARE-NAYLOR to LADY JONES. 
 
 " Hurstmonceaux Place, Oct. 29, 1 797. I am most impatient 
 to see you, and yet Twyford will recall ten thousand melan- 
 choly ideas. Had you been in town, I would have persuaded 
 you to give your preference to Hurstmonceaux, where new 
 objects and new schemes offer themselves, and we want 
 your advice about a thousand things. The place is delight- 
 ful, and charms me froco not being so magnificent as I ex-
 
 128 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 pected, or leading to any uncommon expenses. The house 
 is vastly comfortable, but if we live in England it is not 
 larger than we should desire, and every piece of the ground 
 may be turned to profit. It possesses all the beauties of a 
 fine place, with the comforts and pleasures of a small one ; 
 the parish too is just what one could wish, not so large, of 
 so poor, but what we might be the means of giving much 
 happiness. I think Prudence will recommend us to live 
 here or live in Italy ; the first I hope, not again to be 
 separated from so beloved a sister. We were received with 
 such natural demonstrations of joy, and my Hare seems so 
 much to possess the hearts of his tenants, that I have spent 
 some delicious hours. As to our name, we prefer the name 
 of Hare to Naylor as plus noble, but we shall continue to sign 
 all letters, papers, deeds, &c., by the name of Hare-Naylor, 
 as we have hitherto done, and the generality I imagine will 
 give us both names, which makes least confusion, and is 
 what we would like best for many reasons." 
 
 " Bolton Street, Nov. i, 1797. I know not how to ex- 
 press my sense of all your kindnesses. We are here in 
 your house receiving every attention and enjoying every 
 comfort, as if we were served by our own servants and had 
 long been settled. My boy is in love with your maid Hick- 
 man, and calls her 'The Lady of the Bird.' ... As to 
 change of person, you will find it in me, and I have no 
 doubt I shall find it in you. Hickman thinks me like you, 
 but thinner. Sorrow brings with it change of health and 
 change of spirits, and whose sorrow was ever like yours ? yet 
 every action and every thought shows me my own kind and 
 beloved Anna she, whose affection for me was ever tn f e 
 affection interested in my conduct, and anxious that I 
 should be esteemed as she esteemed me. I fear I shall 
 not do half the right or proper things which you suggest 
 want of time and want of carriage are two good excuses.
 
 THE HARES OF HURSTMONCEAUX. 129 
 
 The Dowager Lady Spencer* has written to me that she 
 hopes to see me in town ; the young one t I will write to. 
 We think of arriving at Twyford the day your maid does, 
 and if we come to dinner it may hurry your spirits less than 
 in the evening ; with this idea we think of sleeping one night 
 either at Hampton or Heckfield. My feelings are full of 
 gratitude to God for allowing me to live to so blessed an 
 hour, mixed with regret for your loss, for our loss, for the 
 world's loss. I could not, without tears, visit your apart- 
 ment, to reflect that it wanted its chief ornament and 
 treasure. What is wealth without it ? But tried as you have 
 been, it is my prayer that to me and my children it may be 
 given to make you know all the comfort you yet can feel. 
 I have a very kind letter from my brother. I always loved 
 him, nor do I know, except from others, that he ever felt 
 displeased with me." 
 
 " Bolton Street, Nov. 4. All the quiet happy castles I had 
 built with you at Twyford seem tottering from their founda- 
 tion. It is true, I most anxiously wished for an interview 
 with my dearest brother, but the idea of spending a month 
 or six weeks at Bath does not suit my wish for quiet and 
 repose, and the pleasure of social converse over old times 
 with my beloved sister with which I had flattered myself. 
 Mrs. Ann Hare | found us in bed this morning, and is now 
 talking so fast I scarce know what I write. The Lefevres 
 arrive to-day, and express much pleasure at the idea of see- 
 ing us indeed, I find more friends than I expected, but I 
 find not my dearest sister, for whom alone I consented to 
 
 leave my three angels I have written to young Lady 
 
 Spencer, who has not as yet honoured me with an answer. 
 
 * Margaret Georgiana Poyntz, whose mother was first cousin of Mrs. 
 Shipley, the wife of John, first Earl Spencer. 
 
 t Lavinia, wife of George John, second Earl Spencer. 
 J Only surviving daughter of Bishop Hare. 
 VOL. I. K
 
 130 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 So much the better. I have no ambition, and independence 
 and comfort are in our power. If we regain Buckholt, 
 ; 1 7,000 we shall have, perhaps too much for that media 
 vita I wish for myself and my boys. 
 
 " P.S. I have this moment a most gracious visit from Lady 
 Spencer, only very angry I have a son named Marcus." * 
 
 The plan of joining Mrs. Shipley at Bath was carried out, 
 and thence Mrs. Hare-Naylor wrote to little Francis at 
 Bologna. 
 
 "Dec. n, 1797. Yesterday I finished a long letter to 
 my dear Cassandra, and to-day I once more take up my 
 journal to my dear Francis, which has been so interrupted. 
 .... Novels are the present fashionable study in England, 
 and everything is read, good or bad, which bears that title ; 
 even your papa is obliged to follow the current, as the con- 
 versation, in whatever society, falls upon this topic ; we have 
 had two which are the most talked of ' The Monk, 1 which 
 is an assemblage of crimes, horrors, and improbabilities, but 
 calculated to excite the passions, and therefore read ; and 
 ' Caleb Williams,' whose author is among the illuminated of 
 the present age, but as his hero, who is drawn a model of 
 honour and moral rectitude, is led by circumstances to com- 
 mit murder and other atrocious crimes, I think a reflecting 
 mind may fairly extract this conclusion, that religion alone 
 has sufficient power to preserve man from evil. 
 
 " Dec. 14. I should not, my dear Francis, have dwelt so 
 long on the present state of literature in England if I did 
 not consider that it is the truest test of the character of its 
 inhabitants. They are sunk into an indolence of mind 
 
 * Her not having seen any of her relations since their anger at her 
 marriage caused Mrs. Hare-Naylor's anxiety as to their reception of her.
 
 THE HARES OF HURSTMONCEAUX. 131 
 
 which requires to be fed by such productions as these, and 
 hence it is that, unless an author can excite their passions, 
 warm their imaginations, or awaken their curiosity, he has 
 little chance -of being praised, and still less of being read. 
 
 " Paoli dined with us to-day, and we talked over the 
 adventures of his interesting life, and I wished that the 
 Republic possessed two or three such patriots. He has been 
 ill-treated by all governments and all parties, being himself 
 a stranger to that egoism which pervades every scene of this 
 corrupted age. It is a vice so odious that I wish it may be 
 banished from the world before you enter upon your part, 
 and I think it will, for surely there must be a great change 
 in morals and conduct ere long. 
 
 " Since I came to Bath I have only bought a Pliny. All 
 my money goes away in caps and bawbles, while I regret 
 the sad necessity of conforming to fashion, and consider my 
 four boys, like Cornelia, above all jewels. Tell the Rettore 
 I see every day Lady Bolingbroke, and that we often talk of 
 him and his obliging attentions to the pretty women of our 
 nation. We are invited to return to the Palmerstons after 
 Christmas, and then I shall more particularly think of my 
 Francis, though the certainty of the permanent good you 
 will derive from the lessons of our respected Dom Emmanuel 
 stifles every regret as it rises, and I believe you happier 
 there than you would be with us, since an occupied life is 
 always happy, and we, on the contrary, exist in a kind of 
 noise and confusion, which annihilates every faculty. This 
 evening I may indeed call comfortable, since I am left alone 
 to write to my darling, or to pursue my next favourite employ- 
 ment of reading and reflection. Assure II Nono and La 
 Sorella mia amata that I am eternally attached to them, and 
 accept my warmest prayers and blessing." 
 
 "Dec. 27. On Monday I went to hear a celebrated 
 preacher, to receive the sacrament, and with a grateful heart
 
 132 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 to pray for blessings on my four boys. The preacher dis- 
 appointed me, not in his manner, but as to matter. He was 
 for dividing faith and reason, while I am for uniting them \ 
 true reason must ever support true faith, since they both 
 come from God, and the mental powers He has given us 
 were no doubt intended to fortify our faith, however man 
 may have perverted his own nature. Dr. Randolph, on the 
 contrary, would have us believe and not inquire. A Moham- 
 medan, or a Pagan, can be advised to do no other, but the 
 Christian surely has a nobler doctrine to teach. 
 
 " Your letter of Nov. 1 1 is written with a warmth of 
 patriotism which does honour to your feelings, but would 
 not suit the present times : when a government possesses so 
 great an influence over the minds and passions of the nation, 
 a wise man must only sigh in private. Pitt has gotten the 
 pride of Englishmen on his side, and pride has more particu- 
 larly ever been the strongest feature in the national charac- 
 ter of England. Before you are of an age to act your part 
 on this world's stage, this government will have undergone 
 a reform, in which case the true patriot in serving his country 
 will advance himself ; or otherwise, it will have settled into 
 so complete a despotism founded on corruption, that the 
 efforts of a single man will avail no more than in Athens 
 a Demosthenes opposing the gold of Philip. Yet even in 
 this worst state of things, the principles you now hold will 
 operate so far as to make you remember in every action of 
 your life that the poor and the rich are the same in the 
 eyes of God, and while prudence may teach you to mode- 
 rate your zeal in the cause of political freedom, you will 
 perceive that large is the power of doing good and being 
 useful to mankind, under whatever government you live." 
 
 The prudence which Mrs. Hare-Naylor inculcated in her 
 children with regard to their political conduct was in no-
 
 THE HARES OF HURSTMONCEAUX. 133 
 
 wise evinced by her husband, whose violent and democratic 
 principles made him many enemies. Even the friends who 
 at first sympathized with him were generally alienated 
 by the violence of his political conduct, so that " the Hare 
 with many friends" became a by-word. At one time he 
 received the offer of a baronetcy, which he rejected, and 
 professed to despise as one of the aristocratic distinctions 
 against which he was always inveighing. His public im- 
 prudence was a great disadvantage to his children. Lady 
 Jones alludes to this in a letter she wrote to them many 
 years afterwards : 
 
 " Your father will never get over the unfavourable impres- 
 sion of the violent democratic expressions he made use of 
 on his first return to England; they not only stick by him. 
 but have been of great disadvantage to his children ; you 
 will find it necessary through life to remember that the 
 prejudice of the world in that respect is against you." 
 
 It was in the spring of 1798 that the Hare-Naylors re- 
 turned to Bologna to seek their children. They reached 
 Italy in June in time to see " the Cassandra " and Aponte 
 before their departure from Bologna, and then removed 
 for a time to Padua, where the education of Francis was 
 continued under the Abbate Sinigaglia and other professors 
 of the University. During this, their last visit to Italy, they 
 formed the fine collection of pictures, which they afterwards 
 had at Hurstmonceaux. Of this time is the following : 
 
 MRS. HARE-NAYLOR to LADY JONES. 
 
 "Bologna, June 23, 1798. Here is an anecdote of 
 Francis which I think will please you, as it evinces a degree
 
 134 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 of presence of mind uncommon at his age. He was at 
 dinner at a gentleman's house in the country, when one of 
 the servants came in to say there was a man in the court, 
 with a dromedary and a bear. Francis immediately jumped 
 up from table, ran out alone to see the beasts, and as their 
 conductor assured him there was no danger, he began play- 
 ing with the bear ; the animal immediately seized him in his 
 paws, and the owner, instead of coming to his assistance, 
 cried out to him in a fright, ' Defend yourself, or you are 
 dead.' Upon this, Francis, who had observed that the bear 
 was blind in one eye, struck the beast with all his force in 
 the good eye; the bear instantly let go his hold, Francis 
 seized the moment, and getting loose from his grasp, fled as 
 fast as he could towards the house. The bear ran after him, 
 and tore his cheek with his paw, which was all the injury he 
 received. All this passed without anybody knowing the least 
 of the matter ; the boy returned to table, said the bear had 
 scratched his face, continued to play as usual during the 
 rest of the evening, nor was the story known till the follow- 
 ing day, when it was in everybody's mouth at Bologna." 
 
 The intense happiness which the Hare-Naylors looked for 
 in an English home may be seen from 
 
 MRS. HARE-NAYLOR to LADY JONES. 
 
 " Padua, March 16, 1799. My weak state confirms me 
 in an idea I have long taken up, that -we shall never arrive 
 at settling with our family at Hurstmonceaux, from a per- 
 suasion that our life would be then too happy for our mortal 
 state. It was the same thing with you, my beloved sister, 
 when happiness was almost within the grasp, that visionary 
 
 deity vanished from your sight In all my fatigues 
 
 I have thought of my sweet Augustus enjoying every comfort 
 and attention, happy and beloved by my dearest sister, for
 
 THE HARES OF HURSTMONCEAUX. 135 
 
 I feel assured the better you are acquainted with him, the 
 more dear he will become to you. He is endowed with one 
 of those happy soils, which need little culture and little care, 
 
 as weeds cannot take root in his sweet mind I 
 
 wish very much that Jules and Marcus may preserve their 
 present beauty, till you see them : Jules is a true Mordaunt 
 face, and Marcus is the very image of his father. Francis 
 too is remarkably well-looking, and so amiable and attractive 
 in his manners, so much knowledge, and so much vivacity, 
 I am sure you will be partial to him : indeed, I long for you 
 to see them all, though none will excel my dear Augustus in 
 sweetness of temper, and sensibility of disposition in- 
 deed they may well call them Us quatrefils dfAymon." 
 
 In the spring of 1799 the Hare-Naylors returned to 
 England with all the children, and before settling at their 
 own home, took them to visit Mrs. Shipley at Bath. 
 The following letter from Lady Jones to the Dowager Lady 
 Spencer was written then : 
 
 "July 17, 1799. I can, thank God, continue to make a 
 most comfortable report of my mother. She has been 
 bustling about in her dear little old ways, arranging things 
 for her Italian children, and the finding herself equal to 
 such little exertion has certainly mended her spirits. The 
 Hares arrived to tea yesterday, all vastly well. Jule and 
 Marcus are very lovely engaging babes, and Francis, whom 
 we were quite prepared to see an awkward, shy, plain boy, 
 is quite the reverse I really think a most remarkably 
 pleasing face, and his manners are totally unaffected and 
 unpresuming, lively and boyish, which I feared, with his 
 knowledge (which for his years is extraordinary), would not 
 have been the case. My poor little Augustus certainly
 
 136 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 appears to disadvantage by his b'others, but I believe his 
 mind is as amiable, and that he is likely to prove as great a 
 blessing to his parents as any of them. I hope we shall 
 manage not to let them be too much of a worry to my 
 mother, and then they will amuse and do her good. I 
 keep the rock-horse in my dining parlour, which is constant 
 lure for them to be there the greatest part of the day, and a 
 tintamarre-de-diable they have been making there these last 
 three hours, God bless their little throats." 
 
 During this summer's residence at Bath, Mrs. Hare- 
 Naylor formed the greatest friendship of her later life with 
 Miss Bowdler, whose literary and classical tastes formed a 
 bond between them. She accompanied the family to 
 Hurstmonceaux, where on October 9, 1799, Mrs. Hare- 
 Naylor gave birth to her youngest child, Anna-Maria 
 Clementina, 
 
 A long series of letters to her beloved sister Anna 
 describe the family life, which began most peacefully and 
 happily at Hurstmonceaux, where the Hare-Naylors settled 
 with the conviction that they should be able to live quietly 
 within their income, and filled with schemes for the assist- 
 ance and improvement of their poorer neighbours. Too 
 soon, however, they found that the expenses of an im- 
 poverished estate and a house greatly out of repair were 
 far beyond their receipts, and life became a constant 
 struggle, filled with anxieties as to the sale of some of the 
 pictures they had brought from Italy, or the production of 
 Mr. Naylor's plays of The Mirror, and The Age of Chivalry 
 at Drury Lane, to which they looked almost for the 
 absolute means of subsistence. Indeed, they could not
 
 THE HARES OF HURSTMONCEAUX. 137 
 
 have lived at all, but for the constant and unwearied assist- 
 ance of " the best of sisters." 
 
 MRS. HARE-NAYLOR to LADY JONES. 
 
 " Hurstmonceaux Place, Dec. 31, 1799. I am made very 
 anxious by your account of Augustus, and though that dear 
 boy has been longer absent from us than any of our other 
 children, yet a mother is always a mother, and in my heart 
 my affection for him is mixed with my affection for the rest : 
 five children, yourself, and Hare, fill it, as in one mass of 
 blessings. I am saddened by the thought of my dear 
 mother, and can guess what she must suffer from any 
 diminution of her powers of sight, because I have often 
 said, that the privation of light is the only misfortune 
 perhaps to which our nature is liable, which I believe I 
 should never bear with fortitude or patience ; here reason, I 
 fear, would lose her influence. 
 
 " Wilberforce writes to inquire when we shall be in town, 
 that he and his wife may renew our acquaintance and friend- 
 ship. He says he and my husband think so much alike on 
 politics, he will venture to say to him, he fears there can be 
 no safety while France is a republic with all the energy and 
 irritability which the reform possesses. You who condemn 
 my politics, I am persuaded, do not know what they are ; it 
 is to Mr. Wilberforce and Hannah More I will appeal, when 
 I want a good character. We have nearly concluded her 
 book, but although I go very far with her in her system of 
 education, I think she repeats so often the word Christian 
 she will surfeit numbers, just as honey, if the dose is too 
 strong, will pall the stomachs of children. We are by 
 nature such lovers of variety, that even goodness and 
 religion should be recommended under various forms in 
 order not to clog. As for me, my religion is as simple as 
 my politics, and as I think the best government that where
 
 138 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 people are most virtuous and most happy, so in religion, I 
 
 f think the simple study of the Scriptures with the moral 
 
 ( duties they teach and the rewards they promise, far more 
 
 calculated to inspire true piety and cheerful dependence on 
 
 God's providence, than an inquiry into all those obscure 
 
 ' systems of faith, grace, and original sin, on which saints 
 
 and theologians have written sine fine" 
 
 "Feb. i, 1800. The rejection of The Mirror was a dis- 
 appointment to me, because I see pieces in every way 
 inferior are continually produced ; but I suspect Sheridan 
 has an old private pique to gratify. Our pictures too, I 
 fear, are in no likely method of producing money, and I 
 feel that the dear Poussin must be sacrificed for half its 
 value if we can no otherwise raise sufficient money to pay 
 
 the bills we owe To be sure, coming into possession 
 
 of a place so out of repair and unfurnished as we found 
 this, while possessed ourselves of no ready money, gave us 
 from the first great difficulties to struggle with." 
 
 " Pray read the gth chapter of Revelation. It has struck 
 me vastly, particularly the following verse : ' And they had 
 a king over them, which is the angel of the bottomless pit, 
 whose name in the Hebrew is Abaddon, but in the Greek 
 tongue he hath his name Apollyon! Now the Christian 
 name of Bonaparte is Napollione, which is evidently a 
 Corsican corruption of the Greek the only change being 
 in the N, otherwise the word is merely Italianised. The 
 concluding denunciation of ruin is so terrific, that I think 
 our pious ministers might read and tremble." 
 
 " I cannot but write my list of family misfortunes. Our 
 best pigs are very ill and likely to die, after all the great 
 expense we have been in at fatting them. In short nothing 
 thrives without doors ; and within doors the library chimney 
 has taken to smoke so much, that I am obliged even of an 
 evening to sit with the window open. . . ."
 
 THE HARES OF HURSTMOXCEAUX. 139 
 
 "Feb. 27, 1800. I think of all our disappointments the 
 greatest has come from our History of Switzerland. As for 
 the other pictures, they must be put up at a public sale. I 
 think we are rather in want of a present sum of money for 
 furniture and stock, than any increase of income, as I am 
 convinced, if we were once set a-going, we should find our 
 income equal to our wants. I wish I could flatter myself 
 into a Belief that a view of those pictures you have chosen 
 would be a source of pleasure to you. I confess they were 
 so to me, and that the Poussin especially gave to my senti- 
 ments that tranquil character with which in it our Saviour 
 as an infant regards the future cross. I never felt it, except 
 in that and one other, a Guido which represents the cruci- 
 fixion, before which I have knelt and prayed with a more 
 entire giving up of the whole mind than happened to me 
 anywhere else." 
 
 "May ii, 1800. May is come, and yet you are waiting 
 in London, and lose all the charms of this season in this 
 beautiful place. Why do you go and look at villas near 
 London, and not come to your own villa at Hurstmonceaux ? 
 At least come and pass this month with us, and do not 
 think of going to live by yourself en misanthrope, while we 
 are here, whose domestic joys will be so enlarged by your 
 partaking them. No words can paint the charms of this 
 place, and Hare and I never walk arm in arm contem- 
 plating the scene and speaking of our mutual happi- 
 ness, without giving a sigh to the absence of our only 
 
 friend The Montpellier Terrace, as I call the 
 
 footpath to church, is always dry, and warm, and sheltered : 
 when our sun is too hot, the shrubbery is pleasant ; and 
 when you choose both sun and air there is the road to the 
 gate nearly completed. God bless you, my more than 
 sister, and reward you for your constant kind attachment 
 to your G."
 
 140 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 One of the first interests at Hurstmonceaux had been 
 found in the preparation of the sunniest and pleasantest 
 room in the house for the reception of Lady Jones during 
 her long annual visit a room which is called " Lady Jones's 
 Chamber " to this day. Thither she came for three or four 
 months every summer, bringing the little Augustus to his 
 brothers, when they used to play in the gardens of the 
 "Place," or ramble about in the castle ruins or that old 
 deer-park. Even as a child Augustus was of a much gentler 
 disposition than his brothers, and more unselfish. If any- 
 thing was given to him, his only pleasure in possession 
 seemed to be that he had it to give to some one else, and 
 " his conversation was not like a child's he would admire 
 the works of God in every tree and weed." "On one occa- 
 sion, when very little, he told his aunt a lie. It happened 
 on a day when Lord Spencer and Lord Teignmouth were 
 coming to dine with her ; she had intended that Augustus 
 should dine with them, and he was greatly delighted at the 
 prospect of it, but in consequence of what he had done, she 
 ordered him to stay in his room and have nothing but bread 
 and water. His nurse, who was greatly devoted to him, 
 was not able to go to him till night, when she took him 
 some strawberries, the first of the year, with which at first 
 he was much pleased, but then asked if his aunt had sent 
 them, and on being told ' no,' could not be prevailed on to 
 touch them, saying that she had thought him too wicked to 
 have anything that was good." "Once when he was playing 
 with a little boy, the son of the Duchess of Devonshire, and 
 they could not keep a little sledge, with tin soldiers in it, 
 steady, he went and fetched a silver crucifix and beads given
 
 THE HARES OF HURSTMONCEAUX, 141 
 
 to him by his Italian nurse, and put it into the sledge, say- 
 ing, ' Here is something that will manage this and every- 
 thing else in the world.' " "After a long illness, he expressed 
 his gratitude and thanks in such a manner to those who 
 had been kind to him, that he was more loved than 
 ever."* 
 
 Around Hurstmonceaux Place the country, which is so 
 bare near the castle, becomes luxuriantly rich and wooded. 
 The house is large, forming a massy square with projecting 
 semi-circular bows at the corners, the appearance of which 
 (due to Wyatt) certainly produces a very ugly effect outside, 
 but is exceedingly comfortable within. Mr. Wilberforce, 
 who rented it in 1810, thus describes it : 
 
 "I am in a corner of Sussex, in an excellent house, 
 and a place almost as pretty as the neighbourhood of the 
 sea ever is. There is a fine old castle here, built in 
 Henry VI.'s time, but in complete preservation till some 
 twenty years ago, and, though this is a very good private 
 gentleman's habitation, yet when one sets it against a 
 complete castle, one side of which was two hundred feet 
 long, and which was in the complete costume of the age in 
 which it was reared, it dwindles into as much insignificance 
 as one of the armed knights of the middle ages, fully ac- 
 coutred, who should be suddenly transported into the 
 curtailed dimensions of one of the box-lobby loungers of 
 the opera, or even one of the cropped and docked troopers 
 of one of our modern regiments. 
 
 "The castle is in the park; but, horrendum didu! it was 
 pulled down, and the bare walls and ivy-mantled towers 
 
 These anecdotes were told forty years after by Lady Jones's maid 
 Hickman, then Mrs. Parker.
 
 142 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 alone left standing ; the materials being applied to the con- 
 struction of a new house, which, on the whole, cost twice as 
 much, I understand, as it would have taken to make the 
 castle habitable, for it had fallen a little into arrears. I 
 don't know, however, that we who inhabit the new mansion 
 may not have made a good exchange, by gaining in comfort 
 what is lost in magnificence ; for the old building was of 
 such a prodigious extent, that it would have required the 
 contents of almost a whole colliery to keep it warm ; and I 
 think few things more wretched (of the kind, I mean) than 
 living in a house which it is beyond the powers of the 
 fortune to keep in order ; like a great body with a languid 
 circulation, all is cold and comfortless."* 
 
 Mrs. Hare-Naylor's life at Hurstmonceaux must have 
 astonished her rustic neighbours, and still more her neigh- 
 bours in her own rank of life, of whom there were few with 
 whom she cared to associate, except the ladies at Ashburn- 
 ham Place, where the fine library was a great delight to her. 
 Not only, when within the house, was she always occupied 
 in the deep study of Greek authors, but during her walks 
 in the park and shrubberies she was always seen dressed in 
 white, and she was always accompanied by a beautiful tame 
 white doe, which used to walk by her side, even when she 
 went to church. Her foreign life led her to regard Sunday 
 merely as a fete day, and she used frequently to scandalize 
 the church-going population by sitting at a window looking 
 out upon the road, working at her tambour-frame, when 
 they were going to church. Her impetuosity in liking and 
 
 * Letter to Lord Muncaster. See Wilberforce's "Life and Cor- 
 respondence," vol. iii. pp. 464, 466. Lond., 1838.
 
 THE HARES OF HURSTMONCEAUX. 143 
 
 disliking often led her to make friends with persons beneath 
 her, or to take them into her service when they were of a 
 cnaracter which rendered her notice exceedingly undesirable. 
 1'he two women she took most notice of in the parish were 
 the last persons who ever did public penance at Hurstmon- 
 ceaux, having both to stand in a white sheet in the church- 
 yard for their " various offspring," so that people said, " There 
 are Mrs. Hare-Naylor's friends doing penance." And it was 
 long remembered with amusement that when one of her 
 maids was afterwards found to have misbehaved herself, she 
 said, " Poor thing, she cannot help it ; I really believe it 
 must be something in the air /" 
 
 Yet in her heart she was of a most holy life ; ardent in all 
 her feelings and acts, her whole soul was constantly poured 
 out in prayer. As a Mr. Mitchell, one of whom she saw 
 much at this time, said afterwards to her son Julius, 
 " She did truly embrace Christ with her whole heart." Her 
 words were cherished through life by her children as those 
 of an angel, and to their latest days the recollection of the 
 Four Brothers lingered lovingly over every incident of the 
 early years spent with their " precious mother " in the family 
 home. " O that old age were truly second childhood ! It 
 is seldom more like it than the berry is to the rosebud," 
 wrote one of the four many years after ; and another (Julius) 
 who, living hard by, was wont to cherish every recollection 
 of his beloved mother in the scenes where she had lived, 
 wrote in recollection of these happy days, " What a type 
 of a happy family is the family of the sun ! With what 
 order, with what harmony, with what blessed peace do his 
 children the planets move around him, shining with the
 
 144 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 light which they drink in from their parent's face at once on 
 him and on one another."* 
 
 For the two first years of their residence at Hurstmon- 
 ceaux the family circle was enlarged by one who made up 
 in some degree for the literary and intellectual society they 
 had left at Bologna, and in her letters to her valued Aponte, 
 Mrs. Hare-Naylor constantly dwelt upon the fortunate 
 choice she had been enabled to make in appointing Dr. 
 Lehmann as tutor to her son Francis, and under whom he 
 was making such progress as to be an astonishment to all 
 who knew him and an intense delight to his mother. When 
 Lehmann returned to Germany in 1802, with the intention 
 of taking a professorship in the University of Gottingen, it 
 was intended that Francis should accompany him thither, 
 that he might continue to have the benefit of his teaching, 
 for he had been a most indefatigable tutor, in spite of a 
 devotion to his own studies of natural history, so that, as 
 Mrs. Hare-Naylor quaintly observes in one of her letters, he 
 would impart information to Francis even while he was 
 " dissecting the brains of a butterfly, or ascertaining the legs 
 of a louse." The German plan, however, was abandoned, 
 in order to send Francis to the tutorship of Dr. Brown, an 
 eminent professor in the Marischal College at Aberdeen, and 
 thither he proceeded in August, 1802, after a visit to Lord 
 Palmerston at Edinburgh. He remained at Aberdeen two 
 years without returning. Of the diligence with which his 
 days there were employed the following letter to his mother 
 will give an idea : 
 
 * " Guesses at Truth," 1856, p. 554.
 
 THE HARES OF HURSTMONCEAUX. 145 
 
 " April 14, 1804. To give an account of my day. Before 
 breakfast I read Cicero's and Demosthenes' orations alter- 
 nately by myself. From ten to eleven I read Tacitus, of 
 which I explain five chapters each lesson to Mr. Siev- 
 wright at night, and at the same time I write a translation 
 of a chapter of Livy. From eleven to twelve I read books 
 on politics and moral philosophy, from one to two Dr. 
 Brown as usual three times a week ; from two to four I study 
 the Law of Nature and Nations, as a preparation for my study 
 of the common law ; seven to eight, Mr. Sievwright ; eight 
 to nine, I read Homer and Virgil alternately by myself; 
 nine to ten, Smythe; ten to eleven I prepare Smythe's 
 lesson, and if there is any time to spare I employ it in read- 
 ing English poetry, as even that has great use. So much 
 till eleven o'clock, when I undress. I have given up going 
 to supper, when the college ended, for want of time. Foi 
 the time for which nothing else is allotted, and on Sundays, 
 there is miscellaneous and superficial English and French 
 reading. The time I have allotted for walking is from 
 twelve to one, but I seldom employ it for that purpose. 
 
 " I long to be present at the unpacking of the fine library 
 which has come from Bologna, and I envy you the pleasure 
 of seeing again our old friends the Scanderbeg and the 
 Judith. I shall be very glad to hear how you managed 
 to hang both the great Guido and the great Guercino in 
 the dining-room. Then what is to become of the Paul 
 Veronese, for certainly it deserves a place inter priores ?" 
 
 MRS. HARE-NAYLOR to FRANCIS HARE. 
 
 "Sept. 5, 1802. 'Nil mortalibus arduum est.' This, it 
 is reported, Bonaparte said, when he ascended the Alps to 
 conquer Italy. You have chosen it, my beloved Francis, 
 for your motto, and in the difficulties you have at present 
 to encounter, to will is to do. In speaking slow you have 
 
 VOL.. I. L
 
 146 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 only to conquer an ill habit of not pronouncing the finals 
 distinct You have not, like Demosthenes, any natural 
 impediment to surmount, nor, like Bonaparte, to conquer 
 countries without arms or ammunition; but still the prin- 
 ciple of industry and attention to amend in time a fault 
 which would become a real prejudice to your advancement 
 hereafter, is a great and material step towards still more 
 important objects. 
 
 " Dr. Brown must have heard, with the deepest regret, of 
 Mr. Brand's throwing away his money on a county election. 
 Perhaps this ill-judged measure at his first entry into life 
 may destroy many of those fair prospects which his early 
 virtues gave the promise of. To get rid of a good fortune 
 with little credit and no honour, there is no surer method 
 than a contested election, nor in this case was there ever a 
 prospect of success. You know with what prudence your 
 father behaved last year with regard to this county, nor has 
 his merit been less this year in withstanding the general 
 voice that called upon him to oppose our present member. 
 
 " Perhaps, as we have so very often experienced the 
 favour of Providence, and the wisest of us are so inadequate 
 to decide on our own real advantage, it may be among His 
 kindnesses our not having let our house this autumn ; for in 
 the general opinion war is but too likely to recommence, 
 and in that disastrous case, happy are those who are living 
 in their own land, and able to protect their own property. 
 You, my Francis, are probably born to live in a portentous 
 age. You inherit the principles of true and genuine liberty 
 from your ancestors. You have yourself seen the lament- 
 able effects of anarchy and licentiousness assuming the name 
 of the true goddess, and treading down her altars. And 
 now, under the care of the pious, wise, and learned Dr. 
 Brown, you are imbibing at their source the untainted senti- 
 ments of real patriotism and real freedom ; but, above all,
 
 THE HARES OF HURSTMONCEAUX. 147 
 
 my Francis, I exhort you to study the works of my favourite 
 Cicero. Demosthenes excels more in argument and decla- 
 mation, but none of the ancients have written with more 
 purity of mind and principle of the great question of public 
 good and the duties of the citizen. Your father did not 
 intend publishing the continuation of his history until our 
 arrival in France, when he intended to revise the first two 
 volumes and publish them anew, together with the two 
 succeeding ones, when he had the means of consulting 
 some new authorities ; but should we remain in England, I 
 imagine this plan must change. Adieu, my best-beloved 
 my darling son." 
 
 The History alluded to in this letter is that of the Hel- 
 vetic Republic, which Mr. Hare-Naylor had begun at 
 Bologna, and which he afterwards published, dedicated, 
 " To the immortal memory of Charles James Fox, the 
 enlightened champion of civil and religious liberty." 
 
 In March, 1803, good old Mrs. Shipley died a great 
 loss to her numerous children and grandchildren. " She 
 lived to a good old age, being in her eighty-seventh year," 
 wrote Lady Jones to Mrs. Parker, " and enjoyed all her 
 faculties to the last, and resigned her breath without any 
 suffering not a sigh or groan, but went off in a quiet 
 angelic sleep." 
 
 In 1803, Mrs. Hare-Naylor, who had never quite given 
 up the pursuit of painting, to which she had been so 
 devoted in Italy, and who never ceased lamenting the 
 destruction of Hurstmonceaux Castle, and the loss it occa- 
 sioned her children, formed the design of leaving them a 
 perfect series of large finished water-colour drawings, repre- 
 senting all the different parts of the castle, interior as well
 
 148 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 as exterior, before its destruction. This series of drawings 
 she completed, never relaxing her labour and care till the 
 whole were finished ; but the minute application for so long 
 a period seriously affected her health, and after she had 
 complained for some time of pain in her eyes, and an 
 eminent oculist had been consulted, it was found that 
 disease of the optic nerve had begun, which obliged her to 
 lay aside at once all her usual employments, and which 
 ended, two years later, when she was only in her forty- 
 eighth year, in total blindness, the calamity which five 
 years before she had spoken of to Lady Jones as the only 
 misfortune utterly unendurable. It was remembered at 
 Hurstmonceaux how exceedingly tall and thin she was at 
 this time, and that she used to knock her elbows together 
 behind her back till they clicked ! 
 
 In January, 1804, Julius and Marcus were sent together 
 to Tunbridge School, which was then under the care of Dr. 
 Vicesimus Knox ; but Julius soon fell ill there, and as his 
 symptoms were of a consumptive tendency, he was removed, 
 10 the great grief of his little brother, who exclaimed, " If 
 J ule go away, Marcus pisen hisself." It was decided that 
 Julius should accompany his parents to the Continent, for it 
 was now absolutely necessary that they should go abroad, 
 as Mrs. Hare-Naylor's health was failing so rapidly, that 
 foreign air was looked upon as a last resort. They left 
 England early in August, 1804, and travelled first to 
 Vienna, returning by slow stages to Weimar, where they 
 spent the following winter. Francis in the meantime was 
 sent to another private tutor's, Mr. Michells, at Buckland, 
 neai Cambridge, where he pursued his studies with the
 
 THE HARES OF HURSTMONCEAUX. 
 
 utmost ardour. Augustus remained under the care of Lady 
 Jones, who sent him at ten years old to Mr. Stretch's school 
 at Twyford. where he used to play with his little companions 
 at " the siege of Copenhagen," amongst the great tomb 
 stones in the churchyard. Hence he was removed to 
 Winchester in 1804. His father at this time writes to him, 
 " Your letters have given the greatest pleasure both to your 
 mother and me, and the affectionate manner in which you 
 speak of her illness has quite delighted her." 
 
 It is to this winter of 1804 5, spent at Weimar, that 
 Julius owed his first acquaintance with and interest in 
 German literature. There, the great names of Goethe, 
 Wieland, Herder, and Schiller became to him familiar 
 household words. The extraordinary gifts of his accom- 
 plished mother gathered around her, even in these days of 
 sickness, all that was most intellectual in that most intel- 
 lectual of German cities. And the good duchess who 
 honoured the great men of her city, as she was honoured 
 by them, was the kind friend whose presence daily cheered 
 the darkened chamber of the blind lady, and whose sweet 
 ministrations were constantly afforded in the long hours of 
 suffering from which she was now scarcely ever free. It 
 was as he left Weimar, in May, 1805, that Julius Hare first 
 saw the Wartburg, the scene of Luther's nominal imprison- 
 ment ; and there, as he used playfully to say in after years, 
 he " first learnt to throw inkstands at the devil." 
 
 During the year spent at Weimar, Mr. Hare-Naylor wrote 
 the novel the very dull novel of "Theodore, or the 
 Enthusiast," which was dedicated, " To Her Serene High- 
 ness the reigning Duchess of Saxe-Weinmr, in token of
 
 150 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 gratitude, admiration, and esteem." Flaxman, who, with 
 his sister (who was governess to little Anna), accompanied 
 the Hare-Naylors to Weimar, made a series of beautiful 
 little illustrations for this novel, which have never been 
 engraved. 
 
 MRS. HARE-NAYLOR to LADY JONES. 
 
 " Weimar, Nov. 12, 1804. The calamity I have so long 
 foreseen and dreaded, my dearest sister, is at length fallen 
 upon me : it is now two whole days since I have distinguished 
 any visible object. The tranquillity of despair, dreadful as it 
 is, is nothing compared with what I have suffered during the 
 last twenty months, in a fluctuation between hope and fear. 
 You, my beloved sister, who know my ideas and sensations 
 on every subject, will picture to yourself all I might say, 
 and I shall have not less of your compassion than your 
 love. It is towards you that I look for all I can hope of 
 comfort either for myself or my poor dear children. Indeed, 
 it is amongst my heaviest afflictions, the feeling myself 
 incapable of the duties of wife and mother : this admits of 
 but one consolation, that though David was not permitted 
 to build the temple of the Lord, yet it was accepted, for he 
 had it in his heart. 
 
 " Hare is very much at court, but always most kind and 
 attentive to me. It was only on the gth that the hereditary 
 prince brought home his bride, a Grand Duchess of Russia, 
 since which there have been nothing but dinners and 
 festivals, though Hare prefers the quiet society he met at 
 Prince Clary's, at Teplitz, to all the splendour and mag- 
 nificence displayed on this occasion. The grand duchess's 
 wardrobe arrived in eighty waggons, and her profusion of 
 jewels is such that she could change the set every day for a 
 twelvemonth. Julius has learned a great deal of German,
 
 THE HARES OF HURSTMONCEAUX. 151 
 
 but is too shy to speak May God in his mercy 
 
 preserve you to support and assist your poor blind 
 
 " G. H. N." 
 
 In the summer of 1805 Mrs. Hare-Naylor's longing 
 desire for the presence of her son Francis, caused him to be 
 summoned to her side, as her health was daily becoming 
 worse. She rallied, however, sufficiently to carry out her 
 strong wish of revisiting Switzerland the land of liberty 
 whence she had drawn such ardent aspirations in the days 
 of health and happiness, and when the Hurstmonceaux life, 
 now closed for ever, was just opening before her. They 
 moved first to Bruckenau, and afterwards to Lausanne. 
 Hence she sent to her cousin, the Dowager Lady Spencer, 
 her verses 
 
 ON BLINDNESS. 
 
 " He chastens whom He loves ! " 'Tis thus we read 
 In that blest book from whence all truths proceed. 
 While then his mercies humbly we implore, 
 'Tis ours to bow, submit, and still adore, 
 Content, in awe, to venerate his plan, 
 When laid too deep for mortal eyes to scan. 
 
 Our keenest sufferings to some purpose tend, 
 To calm our passions, or our hearts to mend ; 
 To lift our thoughts from earth to heaven above, 
 And teach frail man to trust his Maker's love. 
 
 In all our trials subject to his will, 
 God blends some good to counterpoise the ill ; 
 And when his wrath divine inflicts a woe, 
 His love paternal mitigates the blow : 
 E'en in the heaviest loss, the loss of sight, 
 That love can fill the mind with inward light, 
 Bestow on other organs ampler powers, 
 And bless our night, like nature's, with its flowen.
 
 152 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 No more that orb whose vivifying ray 
 Gives life and vigour to returning day, 
 Gladdens my eyes with its resplendent flats e, 
 Yet still its warmth revives my drooping frame. 
 No more, to me, the moon reflects her light, 
 Nor glittering planets meet the unconscious sight, 
 Yet o'er my senses steals the calm serene, 
 And all within is tranquil as the scene. 
 
 In vain would nature too her charms conceal, 
 Her treasures, though unseen, I see, I feel. 
 The torrent, dashing from the mountain near, 
 Breaks in rude cadence on the astonished ear ; 
 While the clear rivulet that gently flows 
 With lulling murmurs soothes me to repose. 
 Ofttimes I seek the grove or shady bower 
 When contemplation claims the sober hour ; 
 Oft the pure fragrance of the plants inhale, 
 And tread the flowery mead, or spicy vale, 
 The quickened scent delighting to explore 
 A thousand sweets, unmark'd, unknown before. 
 
 E'en though the landscape flies the clouded eye, 
 Imagination can her tints supply, 
 O'er the rude scenery cast a brighter hue, 
 And bring a new creation to my view. 
 The pine frowns darkly o'er the ivied cell, 
 The ruin proudly nods, the torrents swell ; 
 Above the wooded vale steep Alps arise, 
 And threat with snow-clad peaks their kindred skies. 
 Thus as rich fancy paints with varying grace 
 Bold nature's grand majestic forms we trace, 
 Ideal beauties decorate the scene, 
 No clouds obscure it, and no specks are seen. 
 
 Oft too shall Harmony's celestial strain 
 Soothe to a soft forgetfulness of pain, 
 Lull in seraphic dreams our mental powers, 
 
 And steal from adverse fate some blissful hours. 
 
 . 
 
 But chief the social pleasures are designed 
 To charm the ear, and fascinate the mind.
 
 THE HARES OF HURSTMONCEAUX. 153 
 
 Satire's keen edge, whose point e'en vice can awe, 
 Seductive wit restrain'd by moral law, 
 The patriot thought in manly language drest, 
 The tale well told, the laugh-creating jest, 
 The classic page (deep mine of treasured ore 
 By turns to criticize, by turns explore) 
 These, the pure sources of convivial mirth, 
 Expand our talents, and give genius birth, 
 The soul's appropriate energies reveal, 
 Nor need the eye, to make the bosom feel. 
 
 Still we enjoy those dear delightful ties, 
 On which the firmest prop of life relies. 
 When the fond husband or the child draws near 
 The well-known step sounds grateful to the ear : 
 A son's sweet voice can vibrate to the heart, 
 And love's soft touch the thrill of joy impart: 
 And memory now restores to mental sight 
 Their long-loved features lost in shades of night, 
 Now joys with thoughtful gratitude to blend 
 In one dear form the sister and the friend. 
 
 Friendship too opens wide her treasured store, 
 And as we grow the poorer, gives the more. 
 Her tender sympathy is ever nigh, 
 Nor lets a wish escape its watchful eye ; 
 While, as the sun revives with genial heat, 
 The drooping flowers on which the tempests beat, 
 How sweet compassion cheers our clouded days, 
 And loves in us the feelings that we raise. 
 
 Wisdom presides o'er God's omniscient plan 
 But Faith and Hope are given for guides to man. 
 While Hope consoles us in this vale of tears, 
 Faith here prepares us for the heavenly spheres, 
 And when our mortal part is wrapt in night, 
 Uplifts our spirits to the throne of light. 
 
 During the illness at Lausanne, Francis was of the 
 greatest possible assistance to his parents. He entirely 
 undertook for the time the education of his brother Julius,
 
 154 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 a task which he afterwards in some degree continued by 
 writing a series of essays on different literary subjects for 
 the benefit of his brother. "Francis Hare, who gave 
 Julius his first initiation into Greek, was also an excellent 
 German scholar, and no doubt used his knowledge of that, 
 as of other modern literature, to make his lessons more 
 lively." 
 
 As Mrs. Hare-Naylor felt her last moments approaching, 
 she solemnly and urgently in writing commended her five 
 children to her sister's care, but especially her little daughter 
 Anna. She lingered till the late spring. On Good Friday, 
 she said to Coleman, her faithful maid, " The day after to- 
 morrow will be that of our Saviour's resurrection, and will 
 possibly be the last of my life ; " adding, " If I meet your 
 mother in another world, I will tell her how kind and atten- 
 tive you have been to me." And so it was. Having taken 
 her husband's hand and kissed it, on the morning of Easter 
 Sunday, the 6th of April, 1806, she fell into a sweet sleep, 
 from which she never awakened, "giving up her soul to 
 Him, who, as on that day, overcame death."* 
 
 Just one week before her cousin, died in England, on 
 March 30, 1806, Georgiana, the beautiful Duchess of 
 Devonshire. 
 
 At the time of his wife's death, Mr. Hare-Naylor, being 
 then in his fifty-second year, was still very handsome, but 
 exceedingly reserved and cold in manner. He could not 
 bear to return to Hurstmonceaux, where, as he wrote to 
 
 * Epitaph at Hurstmonceaux.
 
 THE HARES OF HURSTMONCEAUX. 155 
 
 Lady Jones, every flower and every plant recalled the recol- 
 lection of happy moments " past with his lost Georgiana." 
 His debts were numerous and his children many, and in the 
 following year he sold the estate of his ancestors, a step 
 which all his descendants have never ceased to deplore. 
 
 Without failing in the respect due to their father, it was 
 to Lady Jones and to their Shipley relations that his chil- 
 dren henceforward always turned for advice, for comfort, 
 and affection, and in the house of this beloved aunt they 
 found the only home they knew from this time. " My 
 dearest Georgiana," wrote Lady Jones, on hearing of her 
 loss, " if she knows in the realms of bliss she assuredly 
 inhabits what passes in the world, shall ever see that I 
 will exert my feeble endeavours to supply her loss, as long 
 as life and health permit me to do so. My dear little Anna 
 especially I shall receive with open arms." And henceforth 
 little Anna always lived with her, recognised before the 
 world as her adopted daughter ; Augustus was educated at 
 her expense, and passed his holidays with her, and her care 
 and anxiety for his welfare proved that she considered him 
 little less her child than Anna ; Francis and Julius con- 
 sulted her and looked up to her on all points, finding in her 
 " a second mother, a monitress wise and loving, both in 
 encouragement and reproof." "To the reverence which 
 Julius entertained for Lady Jones," wrote one who knew 
 him well in later days, "may be ascribed much of the 
 nobleness and purity of character, the chivalrous respect for 
 womanhood which distinguished his whole life." 
 
 The country home of Lady Jones was at Worting, a place 
 which she had bought, near Basingstoke, a comfortable old-
 
 156 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 fashioned red brick house, with some fine trees near it, but 
 the surrounding country flat, open, and barren to the last 
 degree. For this very reason had Lady Jones chosen it 
 she had been so relaxed by her long residence in India, she 
 said, that she wished for the most bracing and exposed 
 situation it was possible to discover. 
 
 In March, 1813, Lady Jones fetched little Anna home 
 very unwell from her school at Chiswick, and though she 
 was nursed by her aunt with almost more than maternal 
 devotion, she sunk at the end of a week. Lady Jones 
 never could bear her to be mentioned afterwards. After 
 her own death a small parcel with a black edge was found 
 in her writing-case, marked "Memorandums, Helas!" con- 
 taining the medical account of her illness, the newspaper 
 notice of her death, and a little packet inscribed, " Triste 
 et Chere," enclosing the earliest primrose of that year's 
 spring, on which Lady Jones had written, " The sweet angel 
 brought me this little nosegay, Wednesday, i;th March. 
 On Wednesday, 24th, she herself had faded, drooped, and 
 ceased to breathe." In the same parcel is preserved this 
 fragment of a letter from old Lady Spencer : 
 
 "'We now' call it death to leave this world, but were we 
 once out of it, and enstated into the happiness of the next, 
 we should think it were dying indeed to come into it again.' 
 So says Sherlock, whom I was reading when you sent to me 
 Sunday evening. Had dear little Anna's life been prolonged, 
 it would have been a course of suffering to herself and 
 anxiety to you. Now you can feel no anxiety on her 
 account, for I think it was quite remarkable the little traits 
 of amiable feelings that appeared during her illness."
 
 THE HARES OF HURSTMOXCEAUX. 157 
 
 Augustus Hare wrote to Lady Jones : 
 
 " Amid abundant cause for sorrow, it must be some con- 
 solation to you to reflect that my sister is gone to that 
 mother who committed her to your care, and that she will 
 have nothing to recount but instances of your countless 
 goodness. You have exchanged for a form that prayed 
 for you on earth, a spirit that is praying for you in 
 heaven. All the improper habits that you have ever 
 checked in her, all the good principles you have ever in- 
 stilled into her, all the religious precepts you ever taught 
 her, are, and will be, day and night rehearsed in the ears of 
 our merciful Judge, and if they are blessed who give food 
 here, what shall be done to them who minister spiritual 
 sustenance, who have conducted the steps of others to the 
 well of everlasting life, who have exerted themselves to 
 redeem a soul from the bondage of sin and Satan ? Indeed, 
 when I think of these things, I feel I would not disbelieve 
 a future state for the universe. Then, indeed, would our 
 fate be wretched, and what comfort could we possibly derive 
 from the never-ending sleep of my dear sister, since we 
 never should see her again ? Even in this world the care 
 you have lavished upon her will not be in vain. The 
 recollection of it is lodged in the bosom of her surviving 
 brothers, and will, I trust, produce a harvest of affectionate 
 and grateful exertion." 
 
 In 1807 Mr. Hare-Naylor had contracted a second 
 marriage with a connection of his first wife, the widow oi 
 Colonel Mealey, by whom he had become the father of 
 three children, Georgiana, born Nov. IT, 1809; Gustavus, 
 born Sept. 15, 1811; and Reginald, born Dec. 29, 1812. 
 In 1814 he went abroad with his second family, and died
 
 158 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 at Tours on the i6th of April, 1815, after a lingering illness, 
 in which his son Augustus shared the fatigues and anxieties 
 of his stepmother. His remains were removed to Hurst- 
 monceaux, where he is buried beneath the altar of the 
 parish church.
 
 IV. 
 
 AUGUSTUS AND JULIUS HARE. 
 
 " The great secret of spiritual perfection is expressed in the 
 words of St. Ignatius Loyola, ' Hoc vult Deus.' God wishes 
 me to stand in this post, to fulfil this duty, to suffer this disease, 
 to be afflicted with this calamity, this contempt, this vexation. 
 God wishes this, whatever the world and self-love may dictate. 
 hoc vult Deus. His will is my law." Broadstone of Honour* 
 
 " "DIOGRAPHIES are wholesome and nourishing reading 
 in proportion as they approach the character of auto- 
 biography, when they are written by those who loved or were 
 familiar with their subjects who had an eye for the tokens of 
 individual character, and could pick up the words as they 
 dropped from loving lips." Thus, in middle life, wrote 
 Julius Hare, the younger of the two authors of the " Guesses 
 at Truth," and thus, in following the footprints of his life 
 and that of his brother Augustus, the truest picture is that 
 which can be drawn from their own letters or thoughts, 
 from the recollection of their surviving relations and friends, 
 or from the reminiscences of the poor who loved them in 
 solitary Little Alton amid the Wiltshire Downs, or among 
 the leafy lanes of Hurstmonceaux. 
 
 The chief influence in the youth of both brothers was 
 that of their aunt, Lady Jones, whose house was their home,
 
 160 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE, 
 
 and who generously made herself responsible for their 
 education. Unlike their own mother, of whose gentle 
 loving-kindness her four sons retained an equal recollection, 
 Lady Jones chiefly showed her affection for her nephews by 
 the severity with which she corrected their faults, while for 
 herself she exacted respect rather than love, and had no 
 sympathy with any demonstration of affection. Her nephews, 
 though devoted to her from motives of gratitude, never 
 ventured to be familiar with her, and Augustus especially 
 suffered in after life from the want of mutual confidence 
 which was thus engendered. In society Lady Jones could 
 be exceedingly pleasant and agreeable. Miss Berry, who 
 knew her well, always spoke of her as " that most perfect 
 gentlewoman." She was very quick in her movements, old- 
 fashioned and peculiar in dress, short in person, and she 
 had sharp, piercing eyes. 
 
 Lady Jones sent Augustus Hare to Winchester as a 
 Commoner at the beginning of the short half-year, after the 
 summer holidays of 1804: he was placed at once in the 
 middle division of the Fifth Form. Archdeacon Randall, 
 who followed him to Winchester in October of the same 
 year, thus describes his personal appearance at that time : 
 " Hare was then, as aftenvards, tall, thin, and delicate- 
 looking, and his dress peculiar, varying from that of other 
 boys much such as might have been supposed to have had 
 its cut and colour selected by a lady who, though not an 
 old maid, was a widow, and not much conversant with the 
 habiliments and habits of boys in general. He was, how- 
 ever, even then an object of general interest in the school. 
 There was a near race between Hare and Boscawen
 
 AUGUSTUS AND JULIUS HARE. i6t 
 
 (younger son of the then Lord Falmouth), for one of 
 the highest p'aces in the Part, and as the half-year drew 
 to its close, the marks that they daily obtained in the 
 Classicus Paper were eagerly watched by their respective 
 friends. Of course, the public wishes were divided, but 
 I think if the precedence had been settled by votes, 
 Hare would have had it, perhaps for the very reason that 
 he was in person such as I have described him, young, and 
 looking too slight for a struggle of hard work. This carried 
 him through a great deal, for though he had peculiarities of 
 voice and manner that were often laughed at, I do not think 
 he ever underwent any unkind treatment, but was always 
 regarded as a tender plant that ought to be gently handled. 
 He was successful in this contest, which was a happy thing 
 for him, as it insured his being put up into the senior part 
 of the Fifth before the great struggle of the half-year, and 
 ' the standing-up week ' at the end of it, the preparation for 
 which would probably have tried his strength rather too 
 severely." 
 
 Augustus went into college at Election, 1806, which was 
 a fortunate time; for he had got up so high in the school as 
 a Commoner, that he came into college as a Prefect, and, 
 consequently, had no fagging to undergo, and the life of a 
 college Prsefect was as comfortable as it is possible for a 
 school-boy life to be. Randall became a Prefect at Elec- 
 tion, 1807, and from that time began an intimacy with 
 Augustus. " We were both of us thoughtful and imagina- 
 tive," writes Archdeacon Randall, "great politicians, and 
 full of speculative plans for the improvement of the republic 
 in which we lived, and the constitution of which in the main 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 1 62 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 we much approved and admired, though we were sensible 
 of blemishes which we longed to remove. We both thought, 
 as I believe almost every public school-man that has seriously 
 considered the subject does think, that the authority of the 
 Prefects and their responsibility for the order and character 
 of the school, and as a correlative and compensation for 
 this, their power over their inferiors, and right to command 
 their services, ought to be maintained ; but we also per- 
 ceived the many occasional abuses of this power. The 
 problem was, how to repress these without obliging the 
 oppressed junior to bring his complaint before the masters, 
 which was always an invidious proceeding, and one in 
 which the masters could rarely get to the bottom of a case, 
 so as to do real justice between the parties. The public 
 opinion of the school, and especially the public opinion of 
 the general body of the Praefects, was always against a 
 tyrannical Praefect ; but an ill-conditioned Prasfect, much 
 like an ill-conditioned great-landlord, or manufacturer, or 
 ship captain, or other man possessed of power, did not care 
 about public opinion ; and the question was, how to bring it 
 to bear upon him in some way so that he should feel the 
 weight of it. For this purpose we devised a parliament, 
 and I am sure no constitution-mongers in the world ever 
 set about their work with more earnestness and affection 
 than we did. We knew it could never be brought into 
 practical operation, at any rate in our day, but it was such a 
 pleasure to contemplate it as a thing possible. What 
 delightful talks we had about it ! How we returned to the 
 subject again and again ! How we discussed details ! 
 How we canvassed and obviated objections ! How we
 
 AUGUSTUS AND JULIUS HARE. 163 
 
 settled the place of meeting and all the form and order of 
 proceedings ! It must be confessed that our undertaking 
 was not an easy one. The republic with which we had to 
 deal contained in it eighteen separate authorities, each of 
 them absolute over all the subjects, who were in number only 
 fifty-two, and each of the fifty-two subject to each of the 
 eighteen, and bound to serve that one of the eighteen that 
 first required his service. This was the constitution, upon 
 which we did not presume to think of infringing. I daresay 
 you will think it odd that at the distance of more than half 
 a century I should go back to this subject as the point of 
 interest that I specially remember of my intercourse with 
 Hare. But though it looks like playing with straws, it 
 shows the bias of the mind. To be in Parliament was, all 
 through his young days, the thing for which he longed." 
 
 Weak health and a naturally indolent disposition pre- 
 vented the school career of Augustus Hare from being as 
 brilliant as that of his brother Julius, and his frequently 
 missing the prizes he tried for, brought down angry letters 
 from his relations, whom he more seriously offended in the 
 autumn of 1808 by taking part in a rebellion raised by the 
 Winchester Praefects against Dr. Goddard for his making a 
 Saint's Day into a School Day, without their consent. His 
 account of this scrape to Lady Jones is so candid and open 
 as to seem deserving of insertion. 
 
 "Nov. 21, 1808. I suspect, my dear aunt, from your 
 long silence, that you are very angry with me ; indeed you 
 have, I am grieved to say, more reason for this than you 
 perhaps imagine. However, before I begin my narrative, 
 permit me to assure vou that with a new vear I intend if
 
 164 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 possible, to turn over a new leaf. I say if possible, because 
 after the many assurances I have given you that I intended 
 to throw off idleness, from the time I was eight years old, I 
 am almost afraid to make another resolution. I have not, 
 during this half-year, been content with doing no good, but 
 I have done harm : I consented, fool that I was, to join in 
 an act of resistance to the authority of the masters, and when 
 the names of the insurgents were given up, mine was at the 
 top. The circumstances of the case were these. It has 
 always been customary to ask the Praefects whether they had 
 any objection to have a Saint's Day a School Day. Hence 
 arose a supposition that we had by the statutes a right to a 
 holiday on a Saint's Day. Goddard infringed that supposed 
 right ; we remonstrated, he persisted, and it was proposed 
 that the Praefects should exert their authority over the in- 
 feriors, and keep them out of school. I was angry with 
 Goddard, and ashamed, stupidly ashamed, of differing from 
 my schoolfellows. I asked if the other Praefects consented 
 to this step, I was answered ' Yes.' ' Then so do I,' was my 
 answer. I afterwards found that all the Praefects were so 
 far from agreeing in the step, that there were but eight 
 besides myself who consented out of seventeen, and they 
 were chiefly junior Praefects. I immediately hurried down 
 into our playground where the insurgents were, and deter- 
 mined, as all the Praefects were not unanimous, to have 
 nothing to do with the business. Just at that moment 
 Gabell came into school, my retreat was cut off, and I con- 
 tinued one amongst the other fools. We, however, in ten 
 minutes all came to our senses, and returned into school, 
 and upon making our submission, have all been pardoned, 
 and an act of amnesty has been passed. But the masters 
 cannot look upon us in future with any confidence ; they 
 cannot entrust us with any offices. This, however, is a 
 punishment light in comparison of what I ought to expect.
 
 AUGUSTUS AND JULIUS HARE. 165 
 
 This account must give you a great deal of uneasiness. 
 Endeavour, however, I beg of you, to pardon it. Goddard 
 has already done so." 
 
 After receiving Lady Jones's answer to this, which was 
 milder than he expected, Augustus Hare wrote : 
 
 "Nov. 29, 1808. In your letter you neither said noi 
 threatened anything, which I did not deserve. It was all 
 true, as was a great deal more which you might have added 
 if you had determined to punish me with the greatest 
 severity. You might have added that for the last ten years 
 and a half I have been a plague to you ; that you have ex- 
 pended hundreds of pounds upon me ; that I have been far 
 from improving, as I ought to have done, the advantages I 
 have had ; that in return for all your kindness I have never 
 conquered my natural indolence. There is only one thing 
 you could not have added, that I have not loved you as 
 much as my other brothers would. I wait with submission 
 and anxiety for your final decision concerning my punish- 
 ment." 
 
 In the beginning of 1810 Dr. Goddard thus wrote to an- 
 nounce to Lady Jones a vacancy at New College, to which 
 Augustus was elected in the following summer : 
 
 " Your nephew is a young man for whom I have always 
 entertained a high regard, and I am therefore happy in any- 
 thing that bids fair to promote his welfare. There was a 
 time, when he appeared not to be going on so well as I 
 could wish ; I was then unwilling either to disturb your 
 mind or to disguise the truth, and therefore thought it most 
 prudent to hold my tongue, unless a communication should 
 appear absolutely necessary, which I flattered myself it
 
 1 66 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 would not be, for as he possesses a good heart and a good 
 understanding, I gave him credit for recovering his senses, 
 which were warped a little by an early elevation to a high 
 situation. Experience has proved that I was right; for 
 more than a year past he has gradually been recovering my 
 esteem, which I assure you he now possesses as fully as 
 ever." 
 
 In 1806 Julius had been sent to the Charter-house (then 
 under the guidance of Dr. Raine), where he soon made 
 rapid progress. Among his companions there, were Thirl- 
 wall and Grote, the future historians of Greece ; Wad- 
 dington, afterwards Dean of Durham ; Sir William Norris, 
 and Sir Henry Havelock. The two last especially were 
 united with Julius Hare in a school friendship which lasted 
 through life. Havelock was always called Phloss by the 
 others, a name intended as short for philosopher. During 
 his time at the Charter-house, Julius received constant 
 extra assistance in his studies from Francis, his "kindest 
 brother," as he always called him, to whom he sent his 
 verses for inspection before they were shown up. Francis 
 always loved Julius the best of his brothers, though 
 the whole four were united almost to a proverb " The 
 most brotherly of brothers," Landor used to call them. 
 
 At this time Francis Hare was at Christ Church, but he 
 did not distinguish himself there. The fact was that the 
 pupil of Mezzofanti, Lehmann, and Dr. Brown went up to 
 college knowing too much. He found himself so far beyond 
 all his compeers, and he had such a profound contempt for 
 the examinations of the Oxford schools, as compared with
 
 AUGUSTUS AND JULIUS HARE. 167 
 
 those which he had been accustomed to see in the Italian 
 and German universities, that he neglected study altogether, 
 and devoted his whole time to hunting and other amuse- 
 ments. In spite of this, he was so naturally talented, that 
 he could not help increasing his vast amount of knowledge, 
 even during his idle years at Oxford, so that Dean Jackson 
 used to say of him, that " he was the only rolling stone he 
 knew that ever gathered any moss." 
 
 When he left Oxford, Francis Hare lived principally at 
 his rooms in the Albany, and the remembrance of many of 
 his old friends still lingers on his pleasant chambers (in the 
 end house in the court), and the delightful parties which 
 used to meet in them, and which included all that was most 
 agreeable and clever in London young-manhood. In his 
 conversational powers he was almost unrivalled, and it was 
 thus, not in writing, that he made known his immense mass 
 of information on all possible subjects. -"Francis leads a 
 rambling life of pleasure and idleness," wrote his cousin, 
 Mrs. Dashwood, " he must have read but who can tell at 
 what time? for wherever there is dissipation, there is 
 Francis in its wake and its most ardent pursuer ; yet in 
 spite of this, let any subject be named in society, and 
 Francis will know more of it than nineteen out of its 
 twenty." 
 
 When Augustus Hare went to reside at New College in 
 the Michaelmas term of 1810, he found himself surrounded 
 by a large circle of his Winchester friends. Randall had 
 gone up to Trinity, Oxford, the year before, but Black- 
 stone and Stow were with him at New College, and many
 
 1 68 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 others with whom he was less intimate. Hull of Brasenose 
 and Arnold of Corpus also belonged to the closest circle of 
 his friends. " Friendship," he wrote in one of his note- 
 books of this time, " is love without the veil and the 
 flowers." 
 
 A miniature Parliament was still the Elysium in which 
 the imagination of Hare and his friends delighted. Ran- 
 dall and he at once wished to establish a debating club at 
 Oxford, on the principles of that which already existed at 
 Cambridge, under the name of " The Cambridge University 
 Political Society." They talked to all their friends about it, 
 and tried to enlist them ; but the overture was coldly 
 received for the most part. They met with only two hearty 
 coadjutors, Kent of Trinity, and Comyn of St John's. 
 Even these two, and Randall himself, took rather a de- 
 sponding view of the matter. They thought the attempt 
 would be an utter failure, and that they should only b< 
 laughed at; but they could not bear to disappoint Hare, 
 whose heart was entirely set upon it. Thus " The Attic 
 Society " (so called after much deliberation, with something 
 of a punning reference to the abodes of most of its first 
 members) held its first meeting in Randall's rooms and under 
 his presidency. The members at first were only seven in 
 number. They were : 
 
 i. Kent, Trinity. He was the star of his college and of 
 the society. He took a distinguished first-class in mathe- 
 matics, and was the delight of every company that he 
 entered, the dearest friend of all his friends, who were 
 many, and moreover, the best oar upon the river. He died 
 in his twenty-eighth year, having given promise of a brilliant
 
 AUGUSTUS AND JULIUS HARE. 169 
 
 career in his profession, though as yet only a pleader under 
 the Bar. 
 
 2. Comyn, St. John's. He was Chief Justice at Madras, 
 retired on a pension, and died in London. 
 
 3. Hare, New College. 
 
 4. Roe, Trinity, a lively Irishman from Tipperary ; 
 clever, good-humoured, and much liked; but with a con- 
 siderable spice of the Irish capacity for blundering. He 
 sat in Parliament (1834) for Cashel, as a joint of O'ConnelPs 
 tail. 
 
 5. Randall, Trinity, Archdeacon of Berkshire. 
 
 6. Streatfield, Trinity, afterwards Vicar of East Ham. 
 
 7. Everth, Trinity. 
 
 From this scanty beginning the society increased more 
 rapidly than its founders had ever ventured to expect. 
 Among the members shortly enrolled were : 
 
 Singleton, Trinity, another good specimen of Irishry. 
 
 Ackerley, Trinity. 
 
 Smith, Trinity, afterwards Vicar of Grays near Henley. 
 
 Villiers, Baliol, afterwards Vicar of Bromsgrove. 
 
 Basevi, Baliol. 
 
 Lowe, Brasenose. 
 
 Milman, Brasenose, afterwards Dean of St. Paul's. 
 
 Hull, Brasenose. 
 
 Arnold, Corpus, Head Master of Rugby. 
 
 Bartholomew, Corpus, Archdeacon of Barnstaple. 
 
 Belin, New College. 
 
 Beckley, New College. 
 
 Blackstone, New College, Rector of Heckfield. 
 
 Stow, New College, Heber's chaplain in India. 
 
 Ching, St. John's. 
 
 Hayter, Trinity, Sir W. G., Secretary to the Treasury.
 
 170 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 Evans, Trinity. 
 Andrews, Trinity. 
 Lowndes, Brasenose. 
 
 The Attic Society was such a darling object of Augustus 
 Hare's affections, that its history is in a great measure that 
 of his college life. Communication was opened between 
 the young Oxford society and that previously established at 
 Cambridge. Copies of their statutes were mutually trans- 
 mitted, and the members of each society were made 
 honorary members of the other. It is not recollected that 
 any member of the Cambridge society ever availed himself 
 of the privilege of attending the Oxford meetings; but 
 Augustus Hare, on a visit to Cambridge, took his seat and 
 spoke in theirs. He was complimented upon his speech, 
 when, with characteristic patriotism, he assured the Cam- 
 bridge men that in his own society he was quite an ordinary 
 speaker, and had many greatly his superiors. 
 
 When the society was fairly established, its founders 
 delighted themselves in building airy castles of its future 
 glories. They speculated upon the time, when in process 
 of years the present or some future undergraduate mem- 
 bers would have grown up into Dons and Heads of 
 Houses, and when even a Vice-Chancellor would on some 
 grand occasion leave his bedel and staff at the door, and 
 take his seat as a member, subject, while so sitting, to 
 the authority of the president. These grand anticipations 
 were not destined to be realised. The Attic Society was 
 too far in advance of its age. The Dons always looked 
 unfavourably upon it ; and in the troubled years that suc- 
 ceeded the peace of 1815, when all Debating Societies were
 
 AUGUSTUS AND JULIUS HARE. 171 
 
 in bad odour, it came to an end, either in consequence of 
 some intimation from the authorities, or from the mere 
 prudence of its members. After its dissolution in Oxford, 
 the Attic Society was reformed into an annual meeting in 
 London, which lasted two or three years, and then dropped, 
 owing to the early deaths of several of its choicest members.* 
 
 Augustus was exceedingly fortunate in at once obtaining 
 " the garden rooms " at New College, and from these rooms, 
 with their charming view across the green lawns and 
 between the old chestnuts to the beautiful Magdalen Tower, 
 he never afterwards moved. His opposite neighbour upon 
 the same staircase was afterwards " Chancellor Martin," and 
 with him he had the common use of rooms and books which 
 intimate friends so located at Oxford generally enjoy. 
 Martin was already distinguished, even from his school- 
 days, for the sound judgment, steady practice, and manners 
 at once firm and conciliating, which made him afterwards 
 so valuable to his bishop as a judicial officer, and so in- 
 fluential a member of Convocation. 
 
 The interest which Augustus Hare felt in politics in- 
 creased during his Oxford life, and, in October, 1813, he 
 gave evidence of the sagacity and clear-sightedness with 
 which he had followed Napoleon in his German campaigns, 
 by a practical joke which he played upon the University, 
 and which rendered him remarkable for years afterwards, in 
 societies where his better and worthier talents would have 
 passed unnoticed. On returning one evening from a 
 meeting of the Attic Society he wrote an account of a 
 
 * All the information regarding the Attic Society is due to notes 
 contributed by Archdeacon Randall.
 
 172 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 great battle, and a victory gained over the Crown Prince 
 near the imaginary village of Altendorn, in imitation of a 
 bulletin from Napoleon. This arrived at Oxford the next 
 day by post, enclosed in a cover, to Martin Stow, Fellow 
 of New College, and professing to come from his father's 
 office in London, of which Mr. Eve (in whose name the 
 letter was written) was a clerk. Mr. Eve's letter began by 
 some statements about money matters, and proceeded, " I 
 am sorry to say that an account of a great victory over the 
 Crown Prince by Bonaparte has just reached the office, 
 which, as it has arrived too late for insertion in the evening 
 papers, I take the liberty of copying for you. There are 
 two dispatches to the Empress; the first, dated the i2th, 
 merely gives an account of what we heard before, that 
 Bonaparte having left Dresden, detached a large army 
 towards Berlin and then retreated on Duben. It concludes 
 thus : ' If the allies follow us, a great battle may be hourly 
 expected.' The second is as follows, dated the 2ist, head- 
 quarters at Duben " Then came a long account of 
 
 the supposititious battle which concluded " Thus has the 
 justice of Providence, and the brilliant dispositions of the 
 Emperor, in a moment dissipated those numerous battalions 
 that threatened to carry us across the Rhine and violate the 
 integrity of the Empire. An impartial posterity will rank 
 the Battle of Altendorn among the days of Austerlitz, Jena, 
 and Friedland. The head-quarters will to-morrow be 
 removed to Delitsche. The Emperor, notwithstanding his 
 fatigues, continues to enjoy the best health." 
 
 So similar was the style to that of the usual bulletins, so 
 accurate the geographical details, and so probable the move-
 
 AUGUSTUS AND JULIUS HARE. 173 
 
 ments described, that all the members of the University who 
 read the fictitious dispatch were completely taken in for 
 more than a day and a half, till the coaches of Monday 
 bringing down the morning papers dispelled the illusion. 
 Even then, and long afterwards, those who had eagerly 
 studied the fictitious dispatch, and the geography of the 
 imaginary movements, found it difficult to separate the story 
 of the victory at Altendorn, from that of the real history of 
 the campaign.* 
 
 Another practical joke which Augustus Hare assisted in 
 playing upon the University, was at the time when Madame 
 de Stae'l was at the height of her celebrity. It was announced 
 that she was in England, and was about to visit Oxford, 
 where she had an undergraduate friend. For a few weeks 
 the undergraduate who was to be so highly honoured, 
 became an object of universal interest. At length it was 
 noised abroad that the great lady had arrived, and under 
 the extraordinary circumstances and to meet so illustrious 
 a guest, the undergraduate ventured to invite several of the 
 heads of houses, and even the Vice-Chancellor himself, 
 to meet her at breakfast. The party assembled, Madame 
 de Stae'l was there, and so charmed everybody by her 
 grace, wit, and brilliancy, that they all went away feeling 
 that they had found her even more than they anticipated. 
 It was not till many weeks after that it was discovered 
 that she had never been in Oxford at all, and that she 
 had been represented by a clever undergraduate, who had 
 resided for many years in France ! t 
 
 Contributed by the Rev. F. Blackstone. 
 Rev. F. Blackstone's " Reminiscences. 1 *
 
 174 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 On first going to New College, Augustus was rendered 
 very indignant by the negligence of the college tutors, who 
 " took no notice of the undergraduates, beyond hearing them 
 construe a certain portion of the classics for two hours every 
 day." On this subject, however, Lady Jones wrote to 
 him : 
 
 " I am neither dismayed nor disappointed at the very little 
 assistance you will receive from the college tutors. By what 
 I have always known and heard of university studies I am 
 convinced that they entirely depend upon the student's own 
 inclination and application. I might mention only the 
 former, for, where that prevails in a sufficient degree, the 
 latter will follow. I know in your boyish days you have 
 always wanted some one to spur you on, but I am convinced 
 this is no longer the case, but that your own good sense is 
 a sufficient spur to overcome your natural indolence, and, in 
 spite of indolent tutors, you will steadily and assiduously 
 proceed with your studies. You have talents and a fair 
 field open before you. The Church was never so devoid of 
 learned men, and the laity are very clamorous about it so 
 that a Barrow, a Lowth, or even a Horsley, with your gentle 
 manners and correct principles, would be certain of dis- 
 tinction, and, what I am sure to you would weigh far more, 
 would be a means of happiness to thousands, and a greater 
 blessing to the nation than political cabals would ever 
 
 make any one, be their talents what they may 
 
 I like you too well just as you are to wish any great 
 change either in mind or body, but especially in the 
 former, which I delight in thinking is such as will secure 
 your own happiness here and hereafter, and make the 
 solace and pride of my old age. That God may bless 
 my dear Augustus is the fervent prayer of his affectionate 
 aunt."
 
 AUGUSTUS AND JULIUS HARE. 175 
 1 
 
 It was during the summer of 1813 that the repugnance 
 which Augustus had always felt for taking Orders became 
 so strong, that he ventured to risk the anger of Lady Jones 
 by its avowal. Knowing how strongly her wishes were fixed 
 upon this subject, both from a real desire for his future use- 
 fulness in the Church, and from the natural wish that he 
 should succeed to the rich family living of Hurstmonceaux, 
 he greatly dreaded the effect which his decision would have 
 upon her. During a visit which he paid in the summer to 
 his cousins the Hebers,* he consulted them as to how he 
 could best break the disappointment to his aunt, and the 
 result was that Reginald Heber himself undertook to write 
 to Lady Jones upon the subject. 
 
 " Dear Lady Jones, I am anxious to write to you on a 
 subject in which you take a most kind interest, and on 
 which you flattered me so far as to consult me when last we 
 met. I mean the future plans of our friend Augustus. It 
 was then and is still my opinion that his disposition, attain- 
 ments, and habits are all such as will be most likely to make 
 a valuable and happy clergyman, and I doubt whether his 
 health is sufficiently firm to allow of his being equally happy 
 as a barrister. In the early part of his visit to Moreton I 
 perceived that he was wavering between the choice of these 
 professions, and took some pains, by such means as were 
 least likely to make him suspect my intention, to show off, 
 as I may say, the utility and interest of my own clerical 
 pursuits, to which, as I am myself fond of them, I had con- 
 siderable hopes of attaching him, or of at least removing 
 any prejudices which he might have conceived against them, 
 
 * Reginald Heber had married (April, 1809) Amelia Shipley, 
 youugest daughter of the Dean of St. Asaph.
 
 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 and, since it has been no longer necessary that I should 
 appear ignorant of your wishes and those of his other 
 friends, I have, in plain terms, had many discussions with 
 him, and he in my presence consulted Mr. Warren. I can 
 say with great truth that I can see no reason whatever to 
 suspect that either idleness or any childish aversion to a 
 black coat have influenced his opinion on this subject. He 
 has dwelt much and sensibly on the great remoteness of his 
 own prospects of any extensive field for utility in the Church, 
 or of any comfortable maintenance to be drawn from it, and 
 though his objections have not related to any part of the 
 duties of a clergyman, he has expressed a doubt whether, 
 without a real relish for them, he should ever perform them 
 well. There are, he says, other disadvantages in his 
 prospects, some of which are peculiar to his college, 
 which holds out very few prospects of preferment and no 
 encouragement to become a tutor, so that for many years a 
 curacy must be the boundary of his hopes. I am not my- 
 self convinced by these arguments, but they are I confess 
 such as joined to the encouraging view which Mr. Warren 
 gave of his profession, may fully justify him in refusing at 
 present to pledge himself to enter into Orders, which, 
 indeed, he as yet cannot do, and, I must add that it is my 
 opinion, that if left to his own reflections, the very indolence 
 which we have remarked in him will, as the time draws 
 nearer, be likely to decide him in favour of present ease 
 and tranquillity over a distant chance of legal honours and 
 fortune. He has promised me to ask the opinions of his 
 own legal friends, of the young as well as those who have 
 mastered the difficulties of their profession, of the unsuc- 
 cessful as well as the fortunate, and their answers will (to 
 judge from my own experience) be not unlikely to make him 
 decide as you now wish him, and believe me when I say 
 that it is not without very evident pain that he has on this 
 occasion differed from one to whom he owes so much.
 
 AUGUSTUS AND JULIUS HARE. 177 
 
 Under these circumstances, a year's time on the part of all 
 advisers will not, I think, be too much to ask for him. He 
 may be right or wrong in declining the Church, but as the 
 black stain, once circumfused, can never, thanks to our wise 
 lawyers, be washed off, we cannot blame him for hesitating." 
 
 During the last year of his undergraduate life Augustus 
 Hare was occupied by an attempt to extinguish (on the 
 ground of lapse of time, and consequent wearing out of all 
 real relationship) the privileges of Founders' kin at Win- 
 chester and New College. He also printed an attack, in 
 the form of a letter to his friend George Martin, on the 
 privilege or custom of New College men not going into 
 the school for the public examinations, but claiming a B.A. 
 degree after an examination by their own authorities in 
 college, which not unnaturally brought down a hurricane of 
 wrath from the Warden, and most of the Fellows of the 
 College, who attempted to make it a reason for refusing him 
 the grace necessary for taking his degree. On this point 
 they were baffled, as the only statutable ground for refusing 
 a degree is insufficiency of scholarship, but their anger is not 
 surprising when it is considered that this, the first attempt 
 at " University Reform," was made by an undergraduate 
 against the fundamental principles of the society to which he 
 belonged, and whose privileges he had so long benefited by. 
 
 In 1817 Lady Jones gave Augustus ^150 to spend in 
 travelling on the Continent, and he left England with his 
 brother Francis on the 2gth of July. The following ex- 
 tracts are from his foreign letters : 
 
 AUGUSTUS to JULIUS HARE. 
 
 " August, 1817. Coleridge ought to have written a poem 
 on the tails of Schaiihauseu, as a companion for his hymn 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 178 MEMORIALS* OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 on Mont Blanc. To me that fall was certainly the most 
 majestic sight I had yet seen ; and so awakening were the 
 images and emotions it called up, that I could not refrain from 
 attempting to embody them in words, at the very moment 
 when I was possessed with the fullest consciousness that 
 no words could represent them to myself, much less convey 
 to others, the rushing and whirls, the flashes and roar, the 
 mountains of foam and columns of spray, which had just 
 been surrounding and amazing me. We are too lavish of 
 strong expressions, in speaking of little things, to have a 
 sufficient store of them in reserve for great. What is louder 
 than thunder, what more momentary in brightness, more 
 awful in rapidity, than lightning ? And yet these two super- 
 latives of nature are called in day after day, to give conse- 
 quence to cracks and sparkles, until we reach this might} 
 waterfall without an image or illusion left to impart a notion 
 of what the eye and ear are feeling. 
 
 " The Rhine at SchafThausen is already a considerable 
 stream, some hundred feet in breadth. Between the town 
 and the fall, which is about half a league from it, the river, 
 after making two right angles in its course, turns abruptly 
 and makes yet another, to plunge headlong down a preci- 
 pice of seventy feet. We crossed it at Schaflfhausen, and 
 followed the left bank through vineyards until the walls of 
 Laufen Castle, which overhangs the fall, prevented our pro- 
 ceeding farther. We then mounted the rock on which the 
 castle stands, and while waiting for the key of the door that 
 was to admit us to a sight of the cataract, I looked out of a 
 window in the court, and saw the Rhine already emerged 
 from the fall, but still one stream of foam, flowing on and 
 gradually changing colour, until it disappeared betwixt the 
 quiet banks of green, itself aiso by that time as green and 
 quiet as if it had never been disturbed. The door was now 
 in locked, and we descended a steep winding path, until we
 
 AUGUSTUS AND JULIUS HARE. 179 
 
 found ourselves in a little jutting gallery, opposite the cas- 
 cade, and within its spray. Then opened on my eyes and 
 ears (which hitherto I had deafened purposely to avoid 
 getting accustomed to the noise of the fall before I saw it) 
 a scene wherein sensation for awhile absorbed me. When 
 at last I became collected enough to distinguish the sights 
 and sounds which had astounded me, I perceived that on 
 my left hand, very near as it then seemed to the right bank, 
 two rocks broke the stream. Of these one stood perhaps 
 thirty yards before the other, and the torrent rushed furiously 
 through the opening between them. On the left hand, just 
 above the fall, the waters had scooped out a large basin, the 
 issue from which into a narrow channel produced on that 
 side of me the same violent cross-current as the passage be- 
 twixt the two rocks produced on the other. Between these 
 two cross-currents the main body of the water fell, or rather 
 to speak as it looked turned on its axis. For as the 
 bottom of the descending stream was lost in its own vapour, 
 this part of the river, from incessantly rolling down an 
 unbroken mass of foam, seemed an ever-revolving avalanche 
 crested with snowy spray. But how to give an idea of the 
 depth of the sound, when the two cross streams, which had 
 been prancing along sideways, arching their necks like war- 
 horses that hear the trumpet, broke from the main stream and 
 forced their way into it ! From the valley of thunder where 
 they encountered rose a towering misty column, behind 
 which the river unites unseen, as though unwilling that any 
 should witness the awfully tender reconcilement of its 
 waters. In returning up the path, contrasting in my mind 
 the confusion I had just left with the comparative tran- 
 quillity of the stream above, and its subsequent quiet still- 
 ness as it winds between its green banks, I found it remind 
 me of the one day of terror which is to separate time from 
 eternity. The idea was auengthened when, looking back
 
 180 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 on the scene of turbulence from a summer-house immedi- 
 ately over it, I saw the glorious sun, that visible eye of God, 
 not only smiling on the river in both its states of quietness, 
 but beautifying the very fall itself with the colours of a per- 
 fect rainbow, thus brightening the dept'i of the extremest 
 uproar with a gleam of light and peace, and a sign of 
 hope. 
 
 " After fully examining this side of the waterfall, we got 
 into a boat to cross over. In our passage I discovered that 
 what I had taken for nearly the whole stream was little more 
 than a third of it, and that between the right bank and the 
 two rocks before spoken of was a third, which divided the 
 remainder of the river into two unequal parts, so as to make 
 three cascades in all. One has been already described. 
 The middle fall is perhaps the broadest, and though not so 
 interesting as either of its brethren, brings its waters down 
 with great dignity in one straight unbroken flood. The fall 
 adjoining the right bank is the smallest. To this we ap- 
 proached very near by means of a mill which is built close 
 to it. Here I perceived to my great delight that what pre- 
 viously and at a distance seemed a savage contest between 
 the currents, is only a fiercer joyousness and the fury of 
 mimic war. The waters, after rushing to the onset, leap 
 back from it with a laughing exultation and boyish alacrity 
 incompatible with hostility or hatred. The third fall is very 
 beautiful indeed, the whole stream on that side running 
 aslant over a bed of rocks till it tumbles forward in vast 
 masses like enormous blocks of crystal, with edges so white 
 and brilliant, so sudden in appearance, and following one 
 another with a speed so glancing, that they gave the idea of 
 frost lightnings."* 
 
 This passage has already appeared in the Second Series of the 
 "Guesses at Truth."
 
 AUGUSTUS AND JULIUS HARE. 181 
 
 From Schaffhausen the travellers proceeded to Zurich, and 
 then made a tour of the Grisons in company of two young 
 Englishmen, Mr. Neave (afterwards Sir Digby) and Mr. 
 Penrhyn. The latter was already known to Francis Hare, 
 but to Augustus this was the first introduction to the family 
 with which he was afterwards most closely connected, 
 
 A. W. HARE to LADY JONES. 
 
 " Sept. 12. There was perhaps no place which we were 
 to visit that I was more desirous of seeing than the lake of 
 Lucerne, since one finds on its shores not only the field of 
 Rutli (or Grutli, as the people here call it), famous for being 
 the spot on which the liberty of Switzerland was first con- 
 certed, but likewise William Tell's chapel, where at a dis- 
 tance of twenty years I well remember my mother made me 
 kiss the pavement as a mark of homage to the virtues of the 
 peasant hero. The chapel, I am afraid, disappointed me ; 
 but climbing up to the field of Rutli was very delightful, and 
 my draught of water from the three springs which they 
 cherish there, in honour of the three first planners of Hel- 
 vetic independence, was one of the best things that I have 
 done since I left England. It was impossible to reflect on 
 the action, of which we were celebrating the memory, with- 
 out a religious emotion. For that three-and-thirty peasants 
 without any wealth but their cross-bows, and without any 
 earthly resource but their own courage, should have formed 
 the desperate resolution of waging war against the House of 
 Austria, and that in consequence of this daring attempt their 
 descendants should have enjoyed five centuries of uninter- 
 rupted liberty, is one of the most extraordinary among the 
 crowd of miracles, misnamed ' unaccountably fortunate occur- 
 rences,' which cross the reader at every step of the page of 
 history."
 
 182 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LUTE. 
 
 " Bologna^ Oft. 25. At last we have got an Italian sun, 
 and a beautiful sight it is. There is nothing that I can 
 persuade myself into fancying I remember here but the 
 great square, and even that has grown so much smaller to 
 my eyes since I left Italy, that but for its name and situation 
 I should not have had the least chance of recoflectmg it 
 Stifl it is a great pleasure to visit a place that I have heard 
 and thought so much about. Though the town has lost the 
 six pictures which my mother copied in the Zampieri 
 Palace, and which were bought some years back for the 
 Gallery at Milan, it can still boast of a beautiful collection : 
 as one sees in it some of the finest works of every great 
 artist belonging to the Bolognese School except Annibale 
 Caracci, and besides these the famous St Cecilia of Raphael. 
 
 " Off. 27. I am quite delighted with the people of 
 Bologna. They all seemed so glad to see my brother again. 
 Mezzofanti especially, who was formerly one of his thousand 
 and one instructors, and who is now celebrated as the 
 greatest linguist in the world, being perfect master of thirty 
 languages, besides being more or less acquainted with twenty 
 others, could hardly satisfy himself with looking at his old 
 pupil, who, he had heard from Fazakerley, had turned out 
 a great Grecian. Then he alluded, with looks of gratitude, 
 to my brother's great kindness to him in a dangerous illness, 
 then talked to me a little, then began rejoicing over 
 Francis and his Greek again. We saw besides him Count 
 Fava, who was my father and mother's great friend there. 
 Old Senni and his wife are still living at Bologna, and we 
 of course paid them a visit She, it seems, was the person 
 who first received me from the nurse's arms, and who always 
 dressed some wound in my head that I was bom with, and 
 she shrieked out when she saw us, that next to her own dear 
 son from heaven, we were die two persons she most wished 
 to see. You may have heard my mother speak of her, by
 
 AUGUSTUS AND JULIUS HARE. 183 
 
 the name of Woolley. From her we went to the mother of 
 the Clotilde, whose brother, by-the-bye, is the best painter 
 in Bologna, and has done himself great credit by restoring 
 some old pictures. When she heard our names, the dear 
 old woman put on her spectacles, and examined us for 
 some time, then shook her head and said she did not recol- 
 lect us, but told us to sit down. I happened to take a chair 
 near the window, so that the light fell full on my face, and a 
 few moments afterwards she cried out in Italian, ' Oh yes, I 
 recollect him now, the little Augustus;' and she held out 
 her hands to me, so that I might come and kiss her as I 
 used to do. We finished our calls at the house of the 
 Rector of the Spanish College, an old friend of Dom 
 Emmanuele." 
 
 From Bologna the brothers proceeded to Florence, and 
 thence, after much hesitation as to how far it would dis- 
 please Lady Jones, having received no letter from her, 
 Augustus proceeded with bis brother to Rome. Thence he 
 wrote to Lady Jones : 
 
 " Dec. 5, 1817. We left Perugia at five AJI., that we 
 might have plenty of time for the cascade of Terni. This, 
 like almost every other which I have seen, except the Rhine, 
 is only beautiful, and the idea of force is so inseparably 
 connected in my mind with torrents and waterfalls, that 
 mere beauty on these occasions does not satisfy me ; but 
 the scenery in which it is set is equal, perhaps more than 
 equal, in loveliness to anything that I saw in Switzerland. 
 The thing most like it is the Linthal in Canton Glarus, ex- 
 cept that the latter is topped by glaciers. On 
 
 Wednesday we left the Apennines, and got into the Cam- 
 pagna about twenty miles from Rome. It almost seems
 
 184 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 that Italy is still in mourning there for the fallen grandeur 
 of Rome. Not an animal, not a man, not a house, not 
 even a ruin is to be seen there to cheer one into the recol- 
 lection that it was once inhabited. I had, however, been 
 prepared gradually for this desolation by the general barren- 
 ness of the Papal States. The Apennines, were they left 
 alone, would probably produce grass enough to feed sheep 
 in abundance ; but the inhabitants torment them too much, 
 in hopes of getting corn, to allow them to be good pasture, 
 and consequently they bear nothing, except in some privi- 
 leged spots, which are covered with cork-trees and la- 
 burnums, and a thousand other shrubs, whose names I 
 never heard." 
 
 At Rome the brothers lived with their friends the Martins, 
 by whom they had been joined at Florence, and who after- 
 wards accompanied Francis to Naples, while Augustus re- 
 turned to England after a very short stay in Rome, from 
 fear of his aunt's displeasure, not receiving in time a letter 
 from her, saying : 
 
 " I wish to set your heart at rest as to my approbation of 
 your motions, whatever they may have been. I feel fully 
 assured your wish has been to act according to my wishes, 
 but as the uncertainty of your brother's movements has pre- 
 vented your getting my letters, you must have been left to 
 act for yourself, and if you have gone on to Rome, be assured 
 I shall not be at all displeased ; and shall only hope that 
 you will stay long enough to see what is most worthy of 
 being seen in your birth-place, and then that you will get a 
 safe conveyance home as soon as you can, for I certainly 
 do not wish you to go on to Naples, Dalmatia, or whatever 
 wild-goose chase Francis's vagaries may lead him."
 
 AUGUSTUS ANlj JULIUS HARE. 185 
 
 Augustus was even more impressed than he anticipated 
 with the wonders of Rome, especially of St. Peter's. He 
 wrote : 
 
 " People say that St. Peter's looks larger every time they 
 see it. It does more. It seems to grow larger while the 
 eye is fixed on it, even from the very doors ; and then ex- 
 pands, as you go forward, almost like our idea of God. . . . 
 On entering St. Peter's my first impulse was to throw myself 
 on my knees ; and but for the fear of being observed by my 
 companions, I must have bowed my face to the ground and 
 kissed the pavement. I moved slowly up the nave, op- 
 pressed by my own littleness ; and when at last I reached 
 the brazen canopy, and my spirit sank within me beneath 
 the sublimity of the dome, I felt that, as the ancient Romans 
 could not condemn Manlius within sight of the Capitol, so 
 it would be impossible for an Italian of the present day to 
 
 renounce Popery under the dome of St. Peter's 
 
 But how disproportionate are the projects and means of 
 men ! To raise a single church to a single apostle the 
 monuments of antiquity were ransacked, and forgiveness of 
 sins doled out at a price. Yet its principal gate has been 
 left unfinished, and its holy of holies is encrusted with 
 stucco." 
 
 January, 1818, found Augustus Hare again in England, 
 and he soon returned as a tutor to New College, which 
 continued to be his principal residence for seven years 
 longer. His life there was now considerably changed. 
 His old friends had dispersed in different directions. Stow, 
 the dearest of them, had taken orders, and was curate of 
 Houghton-le-Skerne ; Randall also had left Oxford almost 
 broken -hearted by the death of his friend Kent in thj first
 
 1 86 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 year of his married life. Augustus wrote to him on hearing 
 cf it : 
 
 "January 24, 1818. I have seldom been more hurt than 
 at hearing from Blackstone of the sad loss we have both 
 sustained last autumn. On you, to whom Kent was every- 
 thing from similarity of tastes, principles, and profession, 
 the affliction must have lighted with a force heavy indeed. 
 Even to myself, little as I had seen of him for some time 
 past, it has been a hard and sudden blow. Fortunate as I 
 have been in most of my acquaintances, and worthy in 
 every sense of the word, but especially in the best and 
 highest sense of it, as my friends have all happily proved, 
 I could ill afford to spare out of their number the one who 
 was most distinguished for clear discernment and steady 
 prudence, while he was fully equal to any amongst them in 
 honest strength of principle and friendly warmth of attach- 
 ment. But you who knew him much better than I could 
 boast to do, will be conscious how weak and inefficient 
 these or any other words are to give an idea of his real 
 merits. And thus at once to be deprived of them, thus to 
 lose the comfort they afforded, thus to find the light which 
 his example shed behind it to guide his friends who were 
 following in the same path, unexpectedly and in a moment 
 quenched, is, alas, bitter ! How can it be other than more 
 bitter to you above all his other friends, my dear Randall, 
 to whom he was exactly as a brother in sincerity and fervour 
 of affection ? In losing him you have lost a brother indeed ; 
 but turn your eyes to the surviving friends who have been 
 made yours by time and trials, and days spent together in 
 joy, and hours mutually devoted to sorrow turn to them, 
 and you will find that you have yet a few brothers remain- 
 ing to you. It is you, indeed, who in your present solitude 
 are the object of my chief solicitude, for I feel sure that to
 
 AUGUSTUS AND JULIUS HARE. 187 
 
 him who has last left us, the change cannot be otherwise than 
 a happy one. Departing, as he has done, in the innocence 
 of youth, with all his honourable and, I believe, all his 
 religious sentiments fresh upon him, their lustre yet un- 
 sullied by the contaminations of the world, his lot is, I 
 believe and trust, one that we should envy, could we see it. 
 It has indeed been determined that we should not see it, 
 and with all our usual proneness to be deceived by appear- 
 ances, we mistake the clouds, which conceal from us the 
 state of the departed, for their state itself; and thus come 
 to lend to it the coldness, and darkness, and dreariness, 
 borrowed from our own deep ignorance and sad imaginations. 
 But even Paganism in its happier hours guessed better 
 things. ' Largior hie campos aether, et lumine vestit pur- 
 pureo, solemque suum, sua sidera norunt,' was the heart- 
 boding suggested to it by nature, during the absence of 
 more certain information ; and is it likely, nay, is it possible, 
 that the dreams of man should be more cheering than the 
 glorious magnificence prepared for his children by God?" 
 
 Lady Jones continued to press upon Augustus Hare her 
 desire of his taking orders. On May 4, 1818, he wrote to 
 her from New College 
 
 " I ought to be one of the happiest persons in existence : 
 so many delights are crowding round me in all shapes and 
 sizes. The weather, with all its spring accompaniments of 
 air, sunshine, verdure, and singing birds, has been here so 
 perfect as to make Blackstone cry out a hundred times 
 a day that for such days he believes there is no place like 
 England. Then we have had Reginald Heber here full of 
 spirits at the idea of becoming a father. He came to 
 preach, and did give us two such sermons one on, ' To 
 die is gain,' showing that to make this possible required
 
 l88 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 an Atonement, the other upon the choice of principled 
 friends, that, I believe, if he were to settle here and 
 become a regular preacher, he would bring church-going, 
 
 and perhaps religion itself, into practice And now 
 
 after all these pleasant subjects to a less agreeable one. I 
 am afraid you are quite right in suspecting that Trinity 
 Sunday and its approach have made much less impression 
 on me than they ought. My southern expedition was 
 certainly of use to me in opening my eyes and ears to 
 sights and sounds in nature. But alas ! this good is just at 
 present counterbalanced by the indisposition it has pro- 
 duced in me to give up my time and thoughts to the 
 abstruse study of my profession. That it is my profession 
 I know, well, and that it is under my circumstances of 
 situation the best employment to which I can betake myself. 
 But an employment in which one engages merely from con- 
 siderations of prudence and duty, without feeling an interest 
 in the occupations which it involves, is somewhat irksome, 
 and one does not without an effort succeed in bringing the 
 mind to dwell on it. I fear all this would not be pleasing to 
 you, and I feel that I have nothing to urge that can make 
 it so ; the cause, however, I hope, will ere long be over, 
 and then I trust all things will go on smoothly as ever." 
 
 Yet the high estimation in which Augustus Hare already 
 held the clerical office, may be seen from the following, 
 written to his friend Frederick Blackstone, upon his 
 ordination : 
 
 "Dec. 1 8, 1818. I am not sorry for a necessity for 
 writing, as it ensures the expression of my deep sympathy 
 in the sacred character which you are on the point of 
 assuming. You are about to become a teacher in our new 
 Israel; and the titles of 'watchman' and 'father of souls,' 
 high as they are, will from henceforth be yours. Happy !
 
 AUGUSTUS AND JULIUS HARE. 189 
 
 thrice happy ! the person by whom their full dignity is felt. 
 What a freedom from the thralls of the world and the flesh 
 what a piercing insight into the true nature of things ; 
 how large a share of the wisdom that is from above must 
 be possessed by such a man ! To me it is a source of much 
 real joy, that you, my much-tried friend, who are entering 
 into Christ's ministry, are blest, I will not say with such a 
 perfect sense of its glories as I have been figuring to myself, 
 but certainly with the fittest dispositions for in time arriving 
 at it. With perhaps not fewer surface faults than many of 
 my acquaintance, I can yet with truth say, -that in sincere 
 straightforward singleness of heart, I believe it would be 
 
 difficult to go beyond you Certainly the Church is 
 
 the sphere for you. In the service of a Creator and Re- 
 deemer, your zeal will enjoy the amplest and fairest scope ; 
 while in the spirituality of your future objects, whatever of 
 earth still clings around you, must in time find a corrective. 
 Only in striving to be perfect do not be betrayed into 
 timidity. Our scrupulousness, taken in its extreme, consists 
 neither with Christianity nor with faith, for it degrades the 
 Deity into a taskmaster. Plans of life and the relations of 
 duty must be once examined, and afterwards acted on. 
 ' Quod putavi, putavi,' was Larimer's rule at the stake, and 
 must to a certain degree be the principle of all who are not 
 willing to spend life in questioning. 
 
 " And now Adieu in the literal sense of the word. And 
 may He, the Being, to whom you are thus committed, the 
 Father and Friend of all, instruct you in the truth, fill you 
 with the spirit, confirm you in love, strengthen you in good- 
 ness, and make you the minister of life, even of life eternal, 
 to all those over whom you may be set, in the name and 
 through the authority of the Lord Jesus. Amen."
 
 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 Julius Hare had been sent to Cambridge in November 
 1812, upon which occasion his father wrote to Augustus : 
 
 " I have been to settle Julius at Cambridge, which I have 
 done in a very comfortable lodging. When we were intro- 
 duced to Mr. Monk, the Greek professor, he told Julius that 
 he had lately had so high a character of him from Mr. 
 Russell, that he was happy to make his acquaintance. 
 Julius at the same time heard of his having obtained a prize 
 for a Latin prose composition upon the kings of Rome. It 
 was written in imitation of Cicero's Dialogues, and Russell 
 told a friend of Julius's that it is the best exercise he ever 
 read ; and in a letter to Julius, he says that he thinks of 
 sending it to the Classical Magazine. Mr. Hudson, his 
 tutor, assures me that he may live very well upon ;i6o a 
 year. His business is to study, not to give wine-parties, 
 and he is perfectly aware, that if he runs in debt, he will be 
 immediately taken from Cambridge. If he gets any scholar- 
 ships, their emoluments will add to his income, and it will 
 be entirely his own fault if he does not get them." 
 
 When Julius Hare went up to Trinity he had already 
 earned a reputation both as a scholar and mathematician. 
 Old Charter-house companions brought with them startling 
 stories of his school prowess, and his shelves were conspicu- 
 ously laden with his school prizes. Thus he was eagerly 
 welcomed by all the best set of men in his college all 
 those whose pursuit and aim was the same as his own. 
 Sedgewick, already a college tutor, made a friend of the 
 freshman; Starr, Whewell, Worsley, and Kenelm Digby 
 were his intimate companions the recipients of his 
 "Guesses at Truth" the witnesses of his enthusiastic
 
 AUGUSTUS AND JULIUS HARE. 1 91 
 
 championship or furious denunciations, according as he 
 was biassed by the feelings of the moment ; for then, as 
 afterwards, Julius never loved or hated by halves. It was 
 perhaps this very openness and demonstrativeness of 
 character which rendered him so peculiarly interesting to 
 his acquaintances, and which made it impossible for him to 
 pass unnoticed. He was often loved, frequently detested, 
 but never ignored. The knowledge of English literature 
 which he brought with him to Cambridge was extraordinary, 
 but his knowledge of German literature was hitherto un- 
 known in an English undergraduate. This had been 
 partly the result of his residence as a child with his dying 
 mother at Weimar. The interest which was then aroused 
 by the conversation of Goethe and Schiller, of the good 
 Duchess of Weimar, and of other illustrious persons who 
 were wont to meet in the honoured sick-chamber, had never 
 passed away. Schiller died while he was at Weimar, and 
 his childish ambition and enthusiasm were aroused by see- 
 ing this great loss received as a national calamity by his 
 mourning fellow-countrymen. The great poets and philo- 
 sophers of Germany were thus no mere names to him, but 
 at ten years old they were grand living realities, and their 
 tales were the story-books, their poems the inspiration, of 
 his childhood. When he returned to England, his father's 
 and his brothers' libraries kept open for him a vast field of 
 discovery in the wealth of German authors, which few boys 
 would have access to, and indeed few would appreciate. 
 Lady Jones in vain remonstrated against what she con- 
 sidered as the dangers which might result from such license 
 in reading for one so young, but Mr. Hare-Naylor was 
 
 i
 
 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 accustomed to the freedom of opinion which the mother of 
 his four sons had always encouraged, and desired that all 
 possible sources of information might be left open to his 
 children. 
 
 When Julius went up to Cambridge, he gave himself up 
 with passionate delight to his classical studies. Of .mathe- 
 matics he would now learn no more than was necessary, 
 though, according to the system which then prevailed in the 
 University, he thus, considerably to his father's annoyance, 
 shut himself out from competing for the chancellor's medal. 
 In his classical studies he was privately assisted by his 
 brother Francis, who had boundless faith in the talents of 
 Julius, and was never weary of writing essays for his assist- 
 ance and reference. His success in college examinations 
 led to his election to a Trinity Fellowship in October, 
 1818. 
 
 The following winter was spent by Julius Hare in Italy 
 with his brother Francis, who had remained in the south 
 since Augustus left him in the preceding spring. From 
 this time dates his great love and veneration for Raphael 
 
 "Where to find a parallel for Raphael in the modern 
 world, I know not. Sophocles, among poets, most re- 
 sembles him. In knowledge of the diversities of human 
 character, he comes nearer than any other painter to him, 
 who is unapproached and unapproachable, Shakespeare ; 
 and yet two worlds, that of Honour and that of Passion, 
 separate them. In exquisiteness of art, Goethe might be 
 compared to him. But neither he nor Shakespeare has 
 Raphael's deep Christian feeling. But then there is such a 
 peculiar glow and flush of beauty in his works : whitherso-
 
 AUGUSTUS AND JULIUS HARE. 193 
 
 ever he comes, he sheds beauty from his wings. Why did 
 he die so early ? Because morning cannot last till noon, 
 nor spring through summer." * 
 
 " In intellectual as in active life, the still small voice 
 wherein speaks the true genius, ' that peculiar sway of 
 nature, which (as Milton saith) also is God's working,' will 
 usually be preceded by the strong wind and the earthquake 
 and the fire, which may rend the mountain and break the 
 rocks in pieces, but in which there is nothing that abideth. 
 The poet will at first try force and endeavour to take Beauty 
 by storm ; but if he would succeed, he must assure himself 
 that she consents not to be won until she has been wooed 
 by duteous and loyal service. This appears a simple and 
 easy lesson; yet few among the sons of men have duly 
 apprehended it, except tardily on compulsion. There may 
 indeed have been others, even in modern times, who have 
 felt and known these truths instinctively from their child- 
 hood upwards, but I cannot name any besides Raphael. 
 Of him it may truly be said that Beauty was his nurse, that he 
 had sucked at her breast, and been dandled in her arms, 
 and been covered with her kisses, until all her features were 
 indelibly written on his mind, and her image became 
 amalgamated, and as it were, one with its essence. From 
 his earliest sketch unto his last great work, whatever came 
 from his pencil, appears, so to say, to have been steeped in 
 beauty : in his imagination, as in the bright atmosphere of a 
 summer day, every object was arrayed in a loveliness at 
 once its own and his : for all he gives is so genuine and 
 appropriate, it is impossible to distinguish what is native 
 from what is adventitious. But Raphael had the good 
 fortune to be born earlier in the world's great year, when 
 the sun might safely rise without a cloud : in these autumnal 
 
 " Guesses at Truth." First Sfries. 
 VOL. I. O
 
 194 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 times one can hardly hope for a fine day, unless it be 
 ushered in by a misty morning." * 
 
 But, together with the growth of his love for Raphael, 
 Julius also became converted to a belief in the general 
 superiority of sculpture over painting. Soon afterwards 
 Augustus, writing to Frederick Blackstone, says : 
 
 " Julius, who was nearly as sceptical as yourself about 
 sculpture, felt while he was standing among the Townley 
 marbles that there was no comparison. The effect of the 
 sculpture was so much stronger than that which had been 
 produced by the Raphaels, Leonardos, and Guidos, which 
 had been exhibited. He was so far hurried away by his 
 enthusiasm as to kiss an arm of one of the female figures, 
 to the great astonishment of the unimaginative beholders, 
 who, perhaps, would not one of them have given a half- 
 penny to kiss the finest arm in the world. ' Mais cela tient 
 au morale, ou plutot k la Philosophic.' " 
 
 During these years of youth also grew in the heart of 
 Julius that great love with which he always afterwards 
 regarded " the honoured name of William Wordsworth," he 
 being one of the first of a circle of young men who upheld 
 the reputation of the new poet at a time when he was 
 greatly ridiculed, and when ths influence of Scott and Byron 
 was supreme. 
 
 On his return from Italy Julius was persuaded by his 
 brother Francis to devote himself to the study of law, and 
 for that purpose took chambers in Hare Court, Temple. 
 But he never was able to give his heart to legal studies, and 
 
 * " Guesses at Truth." Second Series.
 
 AUGUSTUS AND JULIUS HARE. 195 
 
 continued his wide reading in literature and philosophy, of 
 which a visible result was the publication, in 1820, of a 
 translation of " Sintram," which he intended to follow by 
 the other works of Fouque\ Lady Jones characteristically 
 wrote to him at this time her wish that all his " German 
 books were burnt." He replied : 
 
 "Jan., 1820. As for my German books, I hope from 
 my heart that the day will never arrive when I shall be 
 induced to burn them, for I am convinced that I never 
 shall do so, unless I have first become a base slave of 
 Mammon, and a mere vile lump of selfishness. I shall never 
 be able to repay a hundredth part of the obligation I am 
 under to them, even though I were to shed every drop of 
 my blood in defence of their liberties. For to them I owe 
 the best of all my knowledge, and if they have not purified 
 my heart, the fault is my own. Above all, to them I owe 
 my ability to believe in Christianity with a much more 
 implicit and intelligent faith than I otherwise should have 
 been able to have done ; for without them I should only 
 have saved myself from dreary suspicions, by a refusal to 
 allow my heart to follow my head, and by a self-willed 
 determination to believe whether my reason approved of 
 my belief or not. The question has so often been a subject 
 of discussion, that I have determined, once for all, to state 
 my reasons for remaining firm in my opinion." 
 
 To his extensive acquaintance with German thought and 
 German thinkers is due the German tone which pervades 
 many of the " Guesses at Truth," furnished by Julius to the 
 volumes which appeared in 1827. "Its authors, it has 
 been said, suppose truth to be mere guess-work. An
 
 196 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 observation more curiously inapplicable to the spirit and 
 character of both brothers was certainly never hazarded. 
 Because they were so confident that truth is fixed and 
 eternal that it is not the creature of man's notions and 
 speculations that a man must seek for it as hid treasure, 
 not refer it to his own narrow rules of judgment therefore 
 they thought it an exercise useful in itself, certain of reward, 
 to trace the vestiges of it in every direction, to grasp even 
 the skirts of its garment, and if they missed it, still to testify 
 that it was ready to declare itself to more faithful inquiries. 
 They believed that there was a ladder set up on earth 
 and reaching to heaven ; that the voice of God may be 
 heard in the calm midnight, nay, even in the open day, by 
 those who are on the lowest step of this ladder, who have 
 only a bed of earth, with a stone for their pillow, if they will 
 reverently apply their ears to listen, and ask to have it 
 distinguished from the noises of which the air is full, and 
 which try to drown or mock it. These Guesses have 
 cherished this conviction in the hearts of many who needed 
 it, and who would have suffered infinite loss if they had 
 been without it. And they have led not a few to look 
 further still ; to ask whether there is not a Centre of all 
 God's revelations, one in whom He created the world, one 
 in whom He has enlightened men, one in whom He has 
 made himself perfectly known. The words, ' I am the 
 Way, and the Truth, and the Life,' have come to them as 
 at once the encouragement and the result of their guesses. 
 If this result is not what our doctors of the law, our masters 
 in Israel desire, it may, nevertheless, be one which He does 
 not disapprove who in every part of nature, and in every
 
 AUGUSTUS AND JULIUS HARE. 197 
 
 human relation, found parables of his kingdom, and openings 
 through which his disciples might have glimpses of it." * 
 
 Julius's career as a lawyer was of short duration, and 
 most gladly did he welcome the change when, in 1822, his 
 friend Whewell, already a tutor of Trinity, conveyed to him 
 the offer of a classical tutorship in his own college. He at 
 once returned to Cambridge and took possession of delight- 
 ful rooms in the tower at the back of Trinity, looking down 
 its beautiful lime avenue rooms where he collected the 
 nucleus of that library which afterwards rendered his country 
 home so remarkable amongst English rectories, and where 
 he resided throughout the next ten years, to which he owed, 
 as he himself described it, " the building up of his mind." 
 
 At Cambridge Julius Hare re-united in a great measure 
 the large circle of friends amid whom his undergraduate life 
 had been passed Sedgewick, Whewell, Thirlwall, Worsley 
 (whom he was wont to call " the brother of his heart "), 
 and, for a rime, Digby, the author of the " Broad Stone of 
 Honour," " that noble manual for gentlemen, that volume " 
 (wrote Julius) " which, had I a son, I would place in his 
 hands, charging him, though such prompting words would 
 be needless, to love it next to his Bible." Among his 
 pupils also were three young men who were among the 
 intimate friends of his later life, John Sterling, Frederick 
 Maurice, and Richard Cavendish. 
 
 The pupils who attended Julius Hare's lectures have a 
 
 vivid recollection of their interest. " While in form he was 
 
 adapting himself exactly to the practice of English colleges," 
 
 wrote one of them, " in spirit he was following the course 
 
 * Preface to Hare's Charges. 184346.
 
 1 98 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 which a cultivated man, thoroughly in earnest to give his 
 pupils the advantage of his cultivation, and not ambitious 
 of displaying himself, would fall into." "When we were 
 reading the Gorgias of Plato, his anxiety seemed to be that 
 Plato should explain himself to us, and should help to 
 explain us to ourselves. Whatever he could do to further 
 this end by bringing his reading and scholarship to bear 
 upon the illustration of the text, by throwing out hints as to 
 the course the dialogue was taking, by exhibiting his own 
 fervent interest in Plato, and his belief of the high purpose 
 he was aiming at, he did. But to give us second-hand 
 reports, though they were ever so excellent to save us the 
 trouble of thinking to supply us with a moral, instead of 
 showing us how we might find it, not only in the book, but 
 in our own hearts this was clearly not his intention." * 
 
 Amid his collegiate duties, Julius Hare found time to 
 unite with his friend Thirlwall in the vast labour of trans- 
 lating Niebuhr's ' History of Rome,' and editing it with 
 fresh notes from his own reading. This work brought down 
 upon its author, and by implication upon its translators, a 
 charge of scepticism as to secular history which would 
 tend to encourage a similar feeling in regard to sacred 
 history. This led Julius to publish (1829) his ' Vindication 
 of Niebuhr,' the first of a long series of vindications which 
 in later life he used playfully to say he should one day 
 collect and publish in one volume, under the title of 
 ' Vindiciae Harianae,' or the ' Hare with many Friends.' 
 " Any attack on Luther, Niebuhr, Bunsen, Coleridge, would 
 have called forth his sword from its scabbard under much 
 * Preface to Hare's Charges. 1856.
 
 AUGUSTUS AND JULIUS HARE. 199 
 
 less provocation than was actually given in the respective 
 cases. Indeed, in some of these instances we almost 
 wonder at the amount of energy and learning spent against 
 charges which hardly seemed sufficient, either in quality or 
 quantity, to need any refutation at all. But even when the 
 object of attack was his dearest friend, it was an outraged 
 sense not so much of private partiality as of public justice 
 that fired the train ; and in one remarkable instance in his 
 later life (that of the Hampden controversy) he came for- 
 ward in behalf of an entire stranger." 
 
 " The scholarship of Julius Hare was of a kind which 
 penetrated the whole frame of his mind. Like all English 
 scholarships, it was built upon a classical basis, and the 
 effect of this, enlarged as it was by the widest view of the 
 ancient writers, never left him. Greece and Rome were 
 always present to his mind; and when he afterwards 
 endeavoured to arouse the clergy of Sussex by the strains of 
 Alcaeus, it was only one instance out of many in which his 
 deep delight in classical antiquity found its vent in the 
 common occasions of life. To the older school of English 
 elegant scholarship he hardly belonged, but in a profound 
 and philosophical knowledge of the learned languages he 
 was probably second to none, even in that brilliant age of 
 his Cambridge contemporaries ; and he was one of the first 
 examples that England has seen, not merely of a scholar, 
 but of a ' philologer,' of one who studied language not by 
 isolated rules but by general laws. 
 
 "This precision of scholarship showed itself in a form 
 which is perhaps, to many, one of the chief associations 
 connected with his name. Almost any one who has ever
 
 200 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 heard of Julius Hare's writings has heard of his strange 
 spelling. Every one knows that his sermons were not 
 ' preached ' like those of ordinary mortals, but ' preacht ; ' 
 that his books were not ' published,' but ' publisht.' It is 
 but due to his memory to remind our readers that it was 
 not, as most people suppose, an arbitrary fancy, but a 
 deliberate conviction, founded on undoubted facts in the 
 English language, which dictated his deviation from ordi- 
 nary practice. His own statement of his principle is con- 
 tained in a valuable and interesting essay on the subject in 
 the Philological Museum ; and it was maintained in the 
 first instance not only by himself, but by his two illustrious 
 colleagues at Cambridge. But Bishop Thirlwall openly 
 abandoned it in his history of Greece, and has never since 
 recurred to it ; and Dr. Whewell confined it to his occa- 
 sional efforts in verse. It was characteristic of the man 
 that Hare alone persevered to the end ; whether it were a 
 hymn-book for his parish church or a monumental tablet, a 
 German novel or a grave discourse on the highest matters 
 of Church and State, he would never abandon what he 
 considered the true standard of correct scholarship, or 
 countenance the anomalies of popular practice. We may 
 justly smile at the excess to which this pertinacity was 
 carried ; but it was an index of that unwearied diligence, of 
 that conscientious stickling for truth which honourably 
 distinguished him amongst his contemporaries ; it was an 
 index also, as we may fairly allow, of that curious disregard 
 lor congruity which, more than any other cause, marred his 
 usefulness in life." 
 
 " The scholarship of Julius Hare was remarkable for its
 
 AUGUSTUS AND JULIUS HARE. 
 
 combination with his general learning. Learning as an 
 acquisition is not perhaps uncommon ; but as an available pos- 
 session it is a very rare gift. It is easy to accumulate know- 
 ledge ; but it is not easy to digest, to master, to reproduce 
 it. This, however, was certainly accomplished in his case." * 
 
 As our story will for many years be more connected with 
 the life of Augustus than with that of Julius Hare, it may 
 be well to look forward here for a few years. 
 
 On Easter Sunday, 1826, Julius was ordained deacon in 
 Wells Cathedral by Bishop Law, and on the following 
 Trinity Sunday was ordained priest, at St. George's, 
 Hanover Square, by Sparke, Bishop of Ely. His first 
 university sermon, afterwards published under the title of 
 the " Children of Light," was preached on Advent Sunday, 
 1828. This sermon assumed that his hearers were bom in 
 light, and that if they walked in darkness, that darkness 
 was caused by the sin which had broken up the even 
 tenour of the true life which was intended, and that their 
 true conversion would be simply the restoration of the 
 light, which was the guide of childhood. His next well- 
 known sermon, the " Law of Self-Sacrifice," was preached 
 in Trinity Chapel at the Commemoration of 1829, an 
 earnest protest against the selfish theory of religion. It at 
 once announces the opposite law as the one which binds 
 together all things in earth and heaven, as that which 
 affords the only explanation of all the great facts of his- 
 tory, of all that has produced any real effect upon mankind 
 in poetry, art, science. Selfishness he traces, indeed, 
 e\ erywhere : but as the disturbing, destructive force ; trie 
 * Quarterly Rei-irw, cxciii.
 
 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 enemy of the order of the world, not its principle ; that 
 which the Son of God by His Sacrifice came to subvert, 
 because He came to renew and restore all things. Theology 
 is here, as elsewhere, the necessary climax as well as the 
 necessary foundation of all his other thoughts ; he does not 
 want to reconcile them with it ; it is the reconciliation of 
 them. The sermon on " The Sin against the Holy Ghost " 
 is in strict harmony with these, inasmuch as it connects the 
 common daily life of the English student in the nineteenth 
 century with the principles set forth in Scripture, even with 
 the most awful sentences in it. These are not used to 
 produce a fearful impression upon the nerves, but to keep 
 the conscience alive to its continued peril, as well as to its 
 mighty treasures and responsibilities to the truth, that all 
 true and righteous deeds, by whomsoever they are enacted, 
 are the work of the Holy Spirit now as in other days.* 
 
 Until these Cambridge sermons were preached, Tutors and 
 Fellows alike felt sure that no undergraduate could be 
 induced to sit through discourses of such prodigious length, 
 yet they were not only listened to with patience, but not 
 more than two days after the preaching of the first sermon, 
 a petition for its publication was sent to Julius Hare, more 
 numerously signed than any that had been known for 
 years. After publication, however, these sermons scarcely 
 met with the success which was anticipated. Many would 
 perhaps have been more impressed by them if they had not 
 taken advantage of their peculiarities of the quaint ex- 
 pressions they contained, to turn aside; these seemed to 
 afford a handle to such as were glad of one, to take hold of 
 See Preface to Hare's Charges, 1843 46.
 
 AUGUSTUS AND JULIUS HARE. 203 
 
 as a diversion from the serious impression they could not 
 otherwise avoid. 
 
 The chief external pleasures of Julius Hare's Cambridge 
 life were derived from his intimacy with the family of Sir 
 John Malcolm, who was at that time residing at Hyde 
 Hall, in its immediate neighbourhood. In 1826, he stayed 
 for a long time in their house to recruit, after a severe 
 attack of illness. Of this home he wrote : 
 
 " The house, in which, above all others I have ever been 
 an inmate in, the life and spirit and joy of conversation 
 were the most intense, is a house in which I hardly ever 
 heard an evil word uttered against any one. The genial 
 heart of cordial sympathy with which its illustrious master 
 sought out the good side in every person and thing, and 
 which has found an inadequate expression in his delightful 
 1 Sketches of Persia,' seemed to communicate itself to all 
 the members of his family, and operated as a charm even 
 upon his visitors. For this reason was the pleasure so pure 
 and healthy and unmixed; whereas spiteful thoughts, 
 although they may stimulate and gratify our sicklier and 
 more vicious tastes, always leave a bitter relish behind." 
 
 Of Sir John Malcolm himself he afterwards spoke as 
 
 " The illustrious friend, who was always so kind, always so 
 generous, always so indulgent to the weaknesses of others, 
 while he was endeavouring to make them better than they 
 were he who was unwearied in acts of benevolence, ever 
 aiming at the greatest, but never thinking the least beneath 
 his notice ; who could descend, without feeling that he sank, 
 from the command of armies and the government of an 
 empire, to become a peacemaker in village quarrels he,
 
 204 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 in whom dignity was so gentle, and wisdom so playful, and 
 whose laurelled head was girt with a chaplet of all the 
 domestic affections, the soldier, statesman, patriot." 
 
 In the family of Sir John Malcolm, lived at this time, as 
 governess, a Miss Mary Manning, with whom Julius formed 
 a friendship of mingled love and reverence, which was as 
 great a feature of his later years as that of Cowper with 
 Mrs. Unwin. Of very humble origin, she owed her ad- 
 mirable education to the generous kindness of Elizabeth, 
 Duchess of Buccleugh, in whose family her father was a 
 factor. Lady Malcolm was greatly attached to her, and as 
 she was always treated rather as an honoured guest than 
 an inferior, she had opportunities of becoming acquainted 
 with the many remarkable persons who visited the house. 
 Having great observation and a retentive memory, she 
 amassed by this means an extraordinary amount of general 
 information, which she had the gift of imparting to others in 
 the most lively and agreeable manner. Few persons came 
 within her influence without being attracted by her ; by 
 most of the friends of the family she was almost adored ; 
 clever Cambridge professors were wont to seek her society, 
 and even to ask her advice on an astonishing variety of 
 subjects, and her unfailing fund of anecdote and quiet wit 
 made her equally charming to her younger hearers. In his 
 later life many people believed that Julius Hare had been 
 engaged in his youth to Ma-man, as she was playfully 
 called ; but this was never the case. 
 
 The Cambridge vacations of Julius Hare were frequently 
 passed at Bodryddan, in the society of his cousins, the 
 daughters of the Dean of St. Asaph. Lady Jones had
 
 AUGUSTUS AND JULIUS HARE. 205 
 
 always dreaded that Augustus would fall in love with the 
 second daughter, Anna Maria, who, while still quite young, 
 had returned to her father's house as the widow of Colonel 
 Dashwood, and whose interest in poetry, art, and Italian 
 and German literature made her conversation exceedingly 
 attractive to both the brothers. Julius, however, was 
 always her favourite cousin, and she was quite devoted to 
 him. In 1828, he became engaged to her, but without any 
 prospect of marriage, until he should obtain a living. But 
 the engagement was in itself a great source of delight to 
 him, and for some years he spent as much time as possible 
 at Bodryddan, where Mrs. Dashwood continued to live 
 with her aunt, Mrs. Yonge, after Dean Shipley's death in 
 1825. This charming family-home is described in a poem 
 by Leigh Hunt : 
 
 41 Their very house was fairy. None 
 Might find it, without favour won 
 For some great zeal, like errant knight, 
 Or want or sorrow's holy right ; 
 And then they reach'd it by long rounds 
 Of lanes between thick pastoral grounds 
 Nest-like, and alleys of old trees, 
 Until at last, in lawny ease, 
 Down by a garden and its fountains, 
 In the ken of mild blue mountains, 
 Rose, as if exempt from death, 
 Its many-centuried household breath. 
 The stone-cut arms above the door 
 Were such as earliest chieftains bore, 
 Of simple gear, long kid aside ; 
 And low it was, and warm, and wide, 
 A home to love, from sire to son, 
 By white-grown servants waited on. 
 Here, a door opening, breathed of bowers, 
 Of ladies who lead lives of flowers ;
 
 206 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 There, walls were books, and the sweet-witch, 
 Painting, had there the rooms made rich 
 With knights, and dames, and loving eyes 
 Of heaven-gone kindred, sweet and wise ; 
 Of bishops, gentle as their lawn, 
 And sires, whose talk was one May-dawn. 
 Last, on the roof, a clock's old grace, 
 Look'd forth, like some enchanted face 
 That never slept, but in the night 
 Dinted the air with thoughtful might 
 Of sudden tongue, which seem'd to siy, 
 The stars are firm, and hold their sway.' **
 
 V. 
 
 CHANGES. 
 
 " God writes straight on crooked lines." 
 
 Spanish Proverb. 
 
 "Circumstance, that unspiritual God, was then a most 
 fruitful source of spirituality." DIGBY. 
 
 TT was in returning from Scotland in 1818, that Augustus 
 Hare, while visiting the Hebers at Hodnet, made his 
 first acquaintance with Miss Leycester. He was at Hodnet 
 on her birthday (November 22). On the preceding day 
 the conversation had turned upon Italy a subject which 
 always called forth the full powers of his enthusiasm and 
 she had playfully asked him to write an ode upon it In 
 the night hours he wrote, and on the following morning 
 presented her with, his Ode to Italy. 
 
 " Strike the loud harp, let the prelude be, 
 
 Italy Italy ! 
 That chord again, again that note of glee 
 
 Italy Italy ! 
 
 Italia, Italia ! the name my bosom warmeth, 
 Italia ! Italia ! the very sound it charmeth 
 High thoughts of self-devotions, 
 Compassionate emotions, 
 Soul-stirring recollections, 
 Wkh hopes, their bright reflections,
 
 208 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 Rush to my troubled heart at thought of thee, 
 My own illustrious, injur'd Italy. 
 
 Dear land of woody mountains, 
 
 And consecrated fountains, 
 Within whose rocky heav'n-aspiring pale 
 
 Beauty has fix'd a dwelling, 
 
 All others so excelling, 
 To paint it right, thy own sweet tongue would fail, 
 
 Hail to thee ! Hail ! 
 
 How rich art thou in groves and streamlets clear I 
 And those broad pines within the sunniest glade 
 
 So reigning through the year, 
 Within the hallow'd circle of their shade 
 
 No sunbeam may appear. 
 Thy double sea too, with its glittering blue, 
 
 How beauteous ! but I may not dwell 
 
 On charms, which decking thee too well, 
 Allur'd the spoiler let me fix my ken 
 
 Rather upon thy godlike men, 
 The good, the wise, the valiant, and the free, 
 On memory's pillar tow'ring gloriously, 
 A trophy rais'd on high upon thy strand, 
 
 That every race in every clime 
 
 May mark and understand, 
 What memorable courses may be run, 
 What and how precious treasures may be won, 
 From time, 
 
 In spite of chance, 
 
 And worser ignorance, 
 If men be ruled by virtue's fix'd decree, 
 And wisdom hold unquestion'd mastery. 
 
 What art thou now ? Alas ! alas ! 
 
 Woe, woe ! 
 That strength and virtue thus should pass 
 
 From man below 
 That so divine, so beautiful a maid 
 Should in the withering grave be laid 
 As one that Hush ! nor dare with ominous breath, 
 
 To syllable the name of Death ;
 
 CHANGES. 209 
 
 The fool alone and unbeliever weepeth 
 
 We know she only sleepeth 
 And from the dust, 
 
 At the end of her correction, 
 Truth hath decreed her glorious resurrection : 
 
 She shall arise, she must : 
 Nor can it be that wickedness hath power 
 To undermine and topple down the tower 
 
 Of virtue's edifice : 
 And yet that vice 
 Should be allowed on sacred ground to plant 
 
 A rock of adamant. 
 
 But who may bide the dazzling radiancy, 
 
 When first the royal dame awaking 
 Darteth around her keen indignant eye 
 
 When first her firm spear shaking, 
 Fixing her foot on earth, her looks on sky, 
 She standeth like the archangel, prompt to vanquish, 
 
 Yet still imploring succour from on high ! 
 
 days of wearying hope and grievous anguish, 
 
 When will ye end ? 
 Until that end be come, until I hear 
 
 The Alps their mighty voices blend 
 To swell and echo back the sound most dear 
 To patriot hearts, the cry of Liberty 
 
 1 must live on : but when the mighty queen, 
 As erst is canopied with Freedom's sheen, 
 When I have prest with salutation meet, 
 And reverent love to kiss her honour'd feet, 
 
 I then may die 
 Die, how well satisfied ! 
 Conscious that I have watch'd the second birth 
 Of the most beauteous being upon earth 
 
 Conscious beside 
 
 That no more glorious sight can here be giv'n; 
 Serener visions are reserv'd for Heav'n."* 
 
 * The poem given here, printed from the original MS. of Augustus 
 Hare, differs in many respects from that already published, as altered 
 by hi- brother Julius. 
 
 VOL. I. P
 
 210 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 The interest in Maria Leycester which was aroused in 
 Augustus Hare during this visit was afterwards kept awake 
 by tne letters of his friend Stow, and the share which he 
 had in their joys and sorrows. 
 
 The summer of 1819 was passed by Augustus Hare at 
 the English lakes. Thence he wrote to his friend Frederick 
 Blackstone : 
 
 " Of the Lakes I will only say that I found Southey more 
 egotistical, less identified with his family, and more reflective 
 than I expected. By the way, I am surprised you should 
 represent him as inimical to discussion, for into one I was 
 betrayed by him unawares, and into another he attempted 
 to lead me, challenging and almost pulling me to the field. 
 At first I thought his manner cold, but it gradually thawed, 
 and before we parted he seemed to begin to take consider- 
 able interest about me. Wordsworth I found much greater 
 in the common concerns of life than I had anticipated. He 
 is as perfect an instance in his way of the connection between 
 genius and kind-heartedness as Mr. Scott is, of whom you 
 know my admiration ; and it is interesting to observe two 
 men of great powers, who are so remarkably different in 
 many respects, agreeing and reflecting each other's character 
 in this." 
 
 On November 19 he wrote to Lady Jones : 
 
 " I left Edinburgh by way of Selkirk and Melrose, 
 stopping by the way to see Walter Scott. He lives in a 
 cottage transmogrified by additions into a sort of castle, on 
 the road between these two places. His family consists of 
 a silly little Frenchwoman his wife, two stout lassies of 
 daughters under twenty, the eldest of whom is said to be a
 
 CHANGES. 2 1 1 
 
 very extraordinary person, and a great favourite with her 
 father, and an enormous staghound, with three or four other 
 dogs of various kinds as his satellites. Walter Scott him- 
 self looks like a very stout, good-humoured shepherd ; and 
 if it be a merit in a poet not to be ' all-poet,' he possesses 
 it in a very high degree. He kept me all day with him, 
 and in the evening had a large party of borderers to dinner, 
 which I regretted, as I would rather have seen him merely 
 with his family. But in the morning he was very delightful ; 
 we walked together round his little property, and the interest 
 he took in his plantations, fences, and crops reaped, sow- 
 ing, and to be sown reminded me completely of Worting. 
 At the same time he has not the affectation of dropping the 
 author altogether, for in pointing out the various objects 
 around to me he did not omit to mention the lands of 
 Deloraine, ' which,' he added with a smile, ' you may per- 
 haps have heard of.' In the same way, many of his beasts 
 are named after persons in his works his old mare is 
 Sybil Grey. He talked of the tales and novels exactly as an 
 indifferent person would have done, except that he praised 
 them less and alluded to them more. He seemed extremely 
 attached to Reginald Heber, and indeed to everything else 
 except Bonaparte and a few Scotch Whigs, for never did 
 I meet a man so overflowing with the milk of human 
 kindness." 
 
 In the summer of 1820 Augustus was selected as 
 one of the School Examiners at Oxford, and during this 
 time " Augustus Hare plucked Cicero Rabbit," which 
 caused great amusement to the University. " My work 
 began on Monday," he wrote to F. Blackstone ; " I was 
 extremely frightened the first day, and though my spirits 
 gradually increased, it was long before I ventured on a viva-
 
 212 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 voce appearance in Logic. I also find great difficulty from 
 being out of practice in minutiae of the two grammars. 
 Things which I have been accustomed to take for granted 
 till I have forgotten the reason why they should be so, are 
 denied, and the unexpectedness of the answer has more 
 than once silenced me, and made me doubt the accuracy of 
 my own memory. So much easier is it to say what is right 
 than to confute what is wrong." 
 
 In 1822 Augustus Hare was after a manner brought into 
 public notice by his " Letter to Sandford," to repel an attack 
 upon Oxford in the Edinburgh Review. In the summer of 
 that year he again visited Southey and Wordsworth at the 
 English lakes. In the autumn of the same year he succeeded 
 to the Logical Tutorship at New College, with a stipend of 
 ^100 a year, upon which he resigned, on his thirtieth birth- 
 day ;ioo of the ;i2o he had annually received from 
 Lady Jones, " wishing to begin a new decade with an act of 
 justice to her for the thousand acts of generosity he had 
 received from her." In December of the same year he was 
 recommended by Reginald Heber as the successor of Gif- 
 ford in the editorship of the Quarterly Review ; but, though 
 strongly supported, withdrew in favour of Coleridge. 
 
 In 1824 he published a defence of the Gospel narrative 
 of the Resurrection, under the title of " A Layman's Letters 
 to the Author of the ' Trial of the Witnesses.' " " To this 
 publication his brother Julius contributed the fourth letter, 
 in which, with his wider knowledge of German theological 
 literature, he fought the battle on the ground which the 
 Rationalists had chosen. The rest of the book was a terse,
 
 CHANGES. 213 
 
 vigorous answer to the more vulgar form of denial which 
 was then represented by Taylor, and Hone, and Carlile, 
 and this was entirely the work of Augustus. Those who 
 know the clear, bold English of the Alton sermons, and 
 the epigrammatic point of most of the Guesses which came 
 from his pen, can form some estimate of the effective skill 
 with which those weapons were employed by him. Dif- 
 ferent as the details of the strategy of the enemy may be 
 now, those who wish to answer M. Kenan's version of the 
 Resurrection, so as to gain the ear of acute but half-taught 
 men, will not find it lost labour to turn to the ' Layman's 
 Letters.' "* 
 
 Augustus Hare was now much happier in his life at 
 New College, where his romantic chivalrous disposition, and 
 the interest which he threw into all his instructions, 
 endeared him to his pupils, while his peculiarities of manner 
 never failed to amuse and attract attention. " He was very 
 eccentric," is the remark of almost all who knew him at this 
 time. If excited in conversation he would spring up in 
 the midst of his talk, twirl himself rapidly round three 
 times, and sit down again without pausing in what he was 
 saying, as if some external action was necessary to let off 
 the force of his excitement. After dinner, at the houses 
 of his intimate friends he would " rush up and down the 
 drawing room in the vehemence of his spirits, and then cast 
 himself upon a sofa, and throw up his legs in the air."t Of 
 this time are the following letters : 
 
 * Memoir of Archdeacon Hare, prefixed to the " Guesses at Truth," 
 ed. 1864. 
 
 t Letter from Archdeacon Randall.
 
 214 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 AUGUSTUS HARE to LADY JONES. 
 
 "November 17, 1823. Writing on my birthday, I can 
 only say, what a change since last November in all my 
 prospects ! and how entirely, under God, am I indebted to 
 you for it ! May He who has given you the means and the 
 heart to be liberal reward you for it. He alone can, by 
 enabling you to see in this world the happiness which your 
 hand has planted for me, blossoming and bearing fruit, and 
 hereafter by giving you such good things as we can neither 
 conceive or ask for." 
 
 LADY JONES to AUGUSTUS HARE. 
 
 March 18, 1824. You will readily believe, my dear 
 Augustus, how severe a blow my heart has received by the 
 sudden death of my beloved Dowager Spencer. I had a 
 note from her written at eight yesterday evening, so delighted 
 with Lord Althorp's approaching marriage with Miss Ack- 
 lom. She had complained of a cold, but said she should go 
 to Lady Clermont's this evening, so could not come to meet 
 Sloper at my house. It seems she slept well as usual, and 
 was getting up at eight o'clock, had walked from her bed to 
 the fire, said ' Oh ! ' and sat down in her chair, and instantly 
 expired. A most blessed end for such a life. The loss is 
 to the survivors, and not even the firm persuasion that you 
 and I have of a blessed hereafter can prevent heartache on 
 such trials, so selfish and inconsistent are our feelings ! I 
 lose one of the very few strong ties that still held me to this 
 world, and 'tis a most merciful dispensation that these trials 
 gradually wean us from a world which in the course of 
 nature I must soon leave God only knows how soon. 
 May all the afflicting warnings I have received not have 
 been given in vain ! God bless you, my dear Augustus, 
 and continue you what I now think you, and then I have a 
 blessing and prop to look forward to, should my life still be 
 prolonged a few years."
 
 CHANGES. 2 I 5 
 
 In the spring of 1825, Augustus Hare had told Miss 
 Leycester that, upon receiving the news of Martin Stow's 
 death, he thought within himself, " If I were to die now 
 without ever having been of use ! "and that evening he 
 decided upon taking Orders. 
 
 On Advent Sunday, 1825, he was ordained in Winchester 
 College Chapel by the Bishop of Hereford. That in taking 
 this step he was not influenced by worldly motives alone 
 may be seen from the zeal with which he fulfilled at Al tor* 
 even the high idea of ministerial duty which he had formed 
 for himself and suggested to his friends. Doubtless each 
 year spent among his village people brought with it a 
 growth in grace and a ripening for immortality; but the 
 work was not begun at Alton. As he himself wrote about 
 this time, perhaps with reference to the mental struggle 
 which had been so long oppressing him : " In darkness there 
 is no choice. It is light that enables us to see the differ- 
 ences between things, and it is Christ that gives us the 
 light." On December 24th, 1825, he had written to Lady 
 Jones a letter (on the outside of which she has inscribed 
 " Mirabilia ! ") as follows : 
 
 " I have at last made up my mind to take Orders at the 
 Bishop of Hereford's next ordination. I know this will 
 give you pleasure ; and may God, who by the workings of 
 his providence thus seems to call me to a particular state of 
 life, enable me to do my duty in it. My wish would be to 
 continue tutor at New College during my year of deacon- 
 ship, to be ordained priest soon after that year is com- 
 pleted, and after that to take the first good country curacy 
 that offers.
 
 2l6 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 " So far I feel certain that you will like my letter. Would 
 I were as sure you would be equally pleased with the re- 
 mainder. But the truth may as well be told at once ; and 
 as I have lost no time in communicating to you my decision 
 when once formed, so will I be equally candid in confessing 
 what has induced me now to form it. In two words, it is 
 Maria Leycester. You know how long and how sincerely 
 I have been anxious to see her united to my lost friend. 
 The last words I had from him were as follows : ' How 
 blessed it would be if, after all, I were to owe my happiness 
 to you ! ' God, who has forbidden this, well knows that 
 could any persuasions, any exertion of mine have brought 
 it to pass, it would have happened long ago. But it was 
 ordained otherwise. In the meantime, as poor Stow's 
 friend, I have seen and heard very much of her, and all 
 that I heard and saw convinced me of her great worth. 
 Never was woman exposed to a nearer scrutiny. No love 
 was in the way to blind my judgment, while I had oppor- 
 tunities of observing her character and habits, such as I 
 can never in any case expect to enjoy again. The result 
 on my mind was thorough esteem founded on a conviction 
 of her thorough excellence. And there the feeling would 
 have rested but for my late loss ; since which I have begun 
 to feel desirous of securing, if possible, for myself, what up 
 to that time I had loved to dwell on as a treasure reserved 
 for my best friend. To have been loved by him and edu- 
 cated by Reginald doubles her value in my eyes, and I am 
 sure will not diminish it in yours." 
 
 In April Augustus Hare met Miss Leycester at Alderley, 
 still as the friend of Mr. Stow, and a fellow-mourner with her 
 for his loss. But on the day before he left, in speaking of 
 his distress in going away, he disclosed involuntarily what
 
 CHANGES. 2 I 7 
 
 his own feelings had been, while he was doing all he 
 could to promote the happiness of his friend. 
 
 The early summer of 1825 was passed by Maria Ley- 
 cester at Alderley. 
 
 M. L. to Miss CLINTON. 
 
 " Stoke, July 27, 1825. That I have not written to you 
 before you will easily understand to have arisen from my 
 unwillingness to lose a single hour of my last days at Alder- 
 ley. They were indeed very precious to me, and after 
 staying there for four months uninterruptedly, you may 
 well imagine how painful it was to me to leave all those 
 who were more than usually endeared to me by the comfort 
 they had afforded me during a time when nothing else could 
 have pleased or interested. Certainly too, altogether, with 
 its inhabitants, its abundance of books, of drawings, liberty 
 unrestrained, beautiful walks and rides and seats, luxuriance 
 of flowers, and in delicious weather, there cannot on earth 
 be so perfect a paradise. During the hot weather we 
 generally went on the mere or rode in the evenings. Every 
 morning before breakfast Lucy and I met in the wood at 
 the old Moss House, where we spent an hour together, and 
 Owen came to ferry me home. With so much around 
 to interest and please me, I put away self as much as pos- 
 sible, and endeavoured as much as I could to enjoy the 
 present. You know how dearly I love all those children, 
 and it was such a pleasure to see them all so happy to- 
 gether. To be sure it would be singular if they were not 
 different from other children, with the advantages they 
 have, where education is made so interesting and amusing 
 
 as it is to them While others of their age are 
 
 plodding through the dull histories, of which they remember 
 nothing, of unconnected countries and ages, K.'s system is 
 to take one particular era perhaps, and upon the basis of the
 
 ?l8 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 General History, pick out for them from different books 
 all that bears upon that one subject, whether in memoirs or 
 literature, making it at once an interesting study to herself 
 and them. " 
 
 M. L. to A FRIEND IN LONDON. 
 
 " March 29, 1827. All your doubts and difficulties I 
 enter into and understand, and I think there is scarcely so 
 trying a situation, one so full of fears, as that of a person 
 who struggles to act up to the highest sense of right, and 
 yet wishes not to seem uncharitable, or to condemn those 
 around who act differently or think less to be necessary. 
 To those who have once separated themselves from the 
 world, openly shown and declared the difference of their 
 opinions, and are consequently countenanced by many 
 others who think and act as they do, the difficulty is far less 
 the struggle is at an end. They have made their choice, 
 and though they may often judge imperfectly and be judged 
 harshly, they are, I do not doubt, happier than those who 
 try to reconcile their better feelings with the habits of the 
 world by taking a middle course. To persevere with firm- 
 ness and courage in what we know to be right, caring not 
 for the ridicule of others, and at the same time to disarm 
 their censure by the mildness, humility, and charity with 
 which we differ from them, is one of the most difficult points 
 to gain; but I agree perfectly with you that no one can 
 judge of another's mind, or what may have an effect upon 
 it. It is the object we are to attain which should be alike 
 to all, the means of arriving at it may differ in every 
 different person, and we must remember we are account- 
 able only for ourselves. As far as we can make Sunday a 
 day of rest, not so much from outward acts as from earthly 
 feelings, it must surely be right, and in London, above all 
 places, this is so difficult to do, that every help we can give
 
 CHANGES. 219 
 
 to our wavering fancies must be needed ; indeed, I have 
 always looked back with shame upon the waste of so sacred 
 a day, which the habits of London life entail even upon such 
 humble sharers in it as myself. As for theatres, I cannot 
 understand where their individual harm lies. How far 
 example and sanction is right is another question; but I 
 cannot but think that there is much to be said of the good 
 produced by the presence of respectable and good people. 
 Such amusements in the case of these all deserting them, 
 would become much more pernicious in their character, and 
 the staying away of ever so many would not deter others 
 from going, while their presence may be a restraint and pre- 
 servation from evil " 
 
 Augustus Hare frequently met Miss Leycester during the 
 winter of 1825-26, which she passed with her brother at 
 East Sheen, and the following summer he visited Stoke. 
 
 M. L. to L. A. S. 
 
 " Stoke, June 23, 1826. After dining early, Augustus 
 and I proposed an expedition to Hodnet, and my father 
 joined us. It was the most bright, beautiful evening, and 
 I cannot describe to you how lovely the rectory looked, it 
 is so improved since the trees are grown up, and there was 
 such an abundance of flowers, which seemed to mock the 
 desolation of the house within. As I stood there, looking 
 at that beautiful view, my mind went back to years gone by, 
 and I could almost have fancied myself again the Maria 
 Leycester when it was a place to me of such exquisite en- 
 joyment. I thought of all the happiness I had received there 
 from those I loved so dearly, and turned to find them all 
 gone, Augustus standing by me as the only remaining link 
 of all that had been. We went together over the garden
 
 220 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 in silence, both feeling much that could find no utter- 
 ance ; but it was a comfort to know that all was under- 
 stood." 
 
 Of this time is the following letter from Bishop Heber : 
 
 " Bombay, June 3, 1825. .... It has not been alto- 
 gether business which has prevented my writing ; for, busy 
 as I have been, and must always be, I could still long since 
 have found or made time to say how gratified I am by your 
 keeping me in recollection, and with how much eagerness I 
 open letters which bring me near to such valued friends at 
 so great a distance, and which call me back, as yours do, 
 for a time, from the broad, arid plain of Rohilkund to the 
 quiet lanes and hedgerow walks of Stoke or Hodnet. There 
 are, however, alas ! so many painful associations connected 
 with my handwriting since the period of my letters to 
 Augustus and Mrs. Stanley, that I have felt, to say the 
 truth, a strange reluctance to address a letter to you, out of 
 a fear to disturb afresh the grief of an affectionate and 
 innocent heart, which had been so severe a sufferer by the 
 events which took place at the commencement of my pre- 
 sent journey. That journey, interesting as it has been, 
 and full of scenes and circumstances peculiarly adapted to 
 excite and gratify, has had its pleasures, indeed, throughout, 
 alloyed with very sad recollections, and much as I enjoyed 
 the beautiful country and singular people through which my 
 course was laid, I could not help often, very often, calling 
 to mind that I was seeing all these things alone, and divided 
 by distance, or a yet more awful separation, from my wife, 
 children, and the attached and affectionate friend with whom 
 I had hoped to share my pleasures and toils, and whose ac- 
 quirements, good sense, and invincible good temper and 
 cheerfulness so remarkably fitted him to enjoy and profit by
 
 CHANGES. 221 
 
 such a pilgrimage. My wife and one of my children our 
 dear little Emily I have since been permitted to rejoin, and 
 the accounts we receive of little Harriet, whom they were 
 obliged to leave behind in Calcutta, continue very comfortable. 
 .... For myself, I really do not recollect a time when I 
 have enjoyed more perfect health than now, and though my 
 hair grows grey all the faster for the fiery sunbeams which 
 have beaten on it ; yet ' that,' as I remember a poor old 
 woman saying of her rheumatism, ' is, at my time of life, 
 excusable! As to the general outline of our lives in India, 
 you have had, I know, a diligent and faithful, as well as a 
 most attached, correspondent in Emily, who will have told 
 you both the wide expanse of river, mountain, forest, and 
 plain which I have since been travelling, her own still more 
 romantic and perilous situation during the mutiny at Bar- 
 rackpore, and (as I believe she has written since her arrival 
 here) the long voyage of six weeks which she made to rejoin 
 me round the whole southern half of India. We have 
 since had a little experience of camp-life together; and it 
 gave me pleasure to find that, though the weather, even on 
 the hills, is too hot at present for a long continuance under 
 canvas, she is likely to enjoy a marching life as much as I 
 do. For myself 
 
 1 My tent on shore, my pinnace on the sea, 
 Are more than cities or serais to me.' 
 
 So far as enjoyment only is concerned, I know nothing more 
 agreeable than the continual change of scene and air, the 
 exercise, the good hours, the good appetite, the temperance, 
 and the freedom from the forms and visiting of a city life 
 to which we are enabled or compelled by a long march, 
 encamping daily with our little caravan through even a 
 moderately interesting country, nor, except during the in- 
 tense heat and the annual deluge of rain (which, by the way,
 
 222 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 it must be owned, occupies one half 'of our tropical calendar), 
 I should desire no other than a canvas roof during the rest 
 of my abode in India. Many indeed as the discomforts 
 and dangers of India are (and surely there are few lands on 
 earth where death so daily and hourly knocks at our doors, 
 or where men have so constant warning to hold them- 
 selves in readiness to meet their Maker), and much as, I 
 cannot help feeling, I sacrificed in coming hither, I have 
 never yet repented my determination, or have ceased to be 
 thankful to God for the varied interest, the amalgamated 
 knowledge, and, I hope and think, the augmented means of 
 usefulness which this new world has supplied to me. I 
 have, indeed, abundant reasons for thankfulness in the pre- 
 servations which my wife and children have met with amid 
 all the dangers of unhealthy climates, wide wanderings by 
 land and sea, and the incidental dangers and difficulties of 
 political disturbance (in my wile's case even at her own door), 
 and in mine, during my progress through countries which 
 are never, according to European ideas, settled or tranquil. 
 Still more ought I to be thankful for the support and encou- 
 ragement which I am receiving from almost all classes of 
 men in my attempts to discharge my duty. And, after all, 
 India in itself, taking one province with another, is really a 
 noble field either of duty or speculation, abounding in 
 everything which can interest either an artist, an antiqua- 
 rian, a lover of the picturesque and romantic beauty, or a 
 curious observer of human life, both in their most refined 
 and their simplest dresses. I have often thought how 
 Edward Stanley would be at home here, and how ricn a 
 portfolio he would have acquired in such a journey as I have 
 been making, from the wild and naked Bheel, with his bow 
 and arrows of bamboo and his kennel (for his house deserves 
 no better name) in the dark recesses of the jungle, to the 
 splendidly-equipped Patan, with his bright chain-mail, his
 
 CHANGES. 223 
 
 silver-studded lance, his shield of rhinoceros hide as trans- 
 parent as amber, and the trappings of silk, silver, and bro- 
 cade which almost sweep the ground as he passes on his 
 beautiful charger. Either of these v> onld make, as you may 
 well believe, a spirited picture ; nor might less striking 
 sketches be made from the courts and processions of the 
 native princes, with all, which noise, bustle, banners, ele- 
 phants, and horsemen can give of magnificence, or from the 
 totally different ostentation of the more austere Brahmins 
 and religious mendicants. You may conceive the former of 
 these, with their heads close shaven, their naked bodies 
 covered with chalk and cowdung, a white cloth round their 
 waists, and their countenances composed into a studied 
 calmness, the meekness and abstraction of which is some- 
 times singularly contrasted with the steady, watchful, crafty, 
 glittering eye which seems to look into those its owner 
 speaks with ; the latter mad, filthy, hideous, his hair and 
 his beard full of ashes, his garment a tiger's skin, his limbs 
 distorted and his body scarred with the efiects of his volun- 
 tary austerities, his eyes inflamed with spiritual pride and 
 intoxicating drugs, and his whole mind and body wilfully 
 lowered to the level of the wild animals among whom he 
 chiefly affects to have his habitation. Add to all this a 
 very rich and luxuriant scenery, a sky which gives to every 
 object a glow beyond anything seen in the old Italian 
 paintings, and (in some of the older and more renowned 
 cities) buildings which in beauty of material (white marble) 
 far surpass, and in grace and majesty bear no unfavourable 
 comparison with, our finest Gothic architecture. Such is 
 India ; and such a country is doubtless well worth visiting, 
 even if one had no stronger motives than curiosity in com- 
 ing hither. Yet I own there are times when, though I do 
 not repent, I cannot help being melancholy ; and it is, 
 perhaps, one of the advantages for which I ought to be
 
 224 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 thankful, that I have too much and too constant employ- 
 ment on my hands to have much leisure for indulging 
 gloomy thoughts. You are probably aware that I had an 
 opportunity of visiting the mountains which form the first 
 stay and outwork of the Himalaya. The season, however, 
 was too far advanced and my time too limited to allow of 
 my penetrating more than five days' journey from the plains 
 of Hindoostan, or to climb to a greater height than about 
 nine thousand feet, where Merdideer lay before me at about 
 forty miles direct distance, and above sixteen thousand feet 
 higher still. It was tantalizing to turn back at such a time ; 
 but even thus far the scenery which I passed through not 
 only surpassed all which I had seen, but all which I had 
 fancied previously. Adieu, dear Maria. That you may be 
 blessed with all temporal and eternal happiness is the ear- 
 nest wish of your sincere and affectionate friend. 
 
 " R. CALCUTTA." 
 
 This was the last letter of an affectionate correspondence 
 of many years. On returning to Stoke from Toft, on the 
 ist of September, 1826, Maria Leycester received the fol- 
 lowing : 
 
 AUGUSTUS W. HARE to M. L. 
 
 "August 30, 1826. I must write a few lines to my dear 
 Miss Leycester, because I am sure she will be a fellow- 
 mourner with myself. It was only this morning I received 
 the mourning-ring my poor uncle left me ; * and already the 
 news had reached me that Reginald went before him to 
 heaven. So closely do misfortunes, in this world that we 
 love so much, press and follow on each other. I did not 
 
 * Dean Shipley died at Bodryddan, in June, 1825. He is buried in 
 the parish church of Rhyddlan ; there is a fine statue of him in one oi 
 the transepts of the cathedral of St. Asaph.
 
 CHANGES. . 225 
 
 think he could have been taken from us so soon. For our 
 sakes, and for the sake of India, I trusted he would have 
 been spared, though he was fully ripe for being gathered 
 into the garner of God. But our Saviour was making up 
 his jewels, and missed so bright a one, and sent for it. And 
 we repine ! and must repine ; for when was there a better 
 man, a kinder, a more delightful, or one more fitted to make 
 Christianity appear in its true light as a mild and amiable dis- 
 pensation ? May a double portion of his spirit fall upon his 
 successor, that India may not have cause to feel his loss, as 
 we must, to be irreparable. For we shall never see any one 
 like him again, and therefore do I grieve." 
 
 C. S. to M. L. 
 
 " Alderley, Sept. i, 1826. Of course, my first impulse is 
 to take up my pen and write to you. I could hardly believe 
 what I saw when my eyes fell upon the words ' Bishop of 
 Calcutta ' nor can I now. I had always a presentiment, 
 alas, how false ! that he was would be safe that his energy 
 of mind would carry him through ; and that as he had begun, 
 so he would go on. Alas ! how you will feel it ! how every- 
 body must ! how incalculable the loss to the world ! And 
 poor Mrs. Reginald : the shock must have been apparently 
 as unexpected as to us in taking up the paper. Now, she is 
 probably on her way home, and the first news on landing 
 will be her father's death. My first thought was of you, and 
 how this must revive in their original form all your feelings. 
 All one can say is, that he yet lives to you almost as if he 
 was alive, and that one's affection and remembrance of such 
 a character does indeed live beyond the grave." 
 
 M. L. to AUGUSTUS W. HARE. 
 
 " Stoke Rectory, Sept. 3, 1826. I did not think you would 
 a second time have had to communicate intelligence so 
 VOL. i. Q
 
 226 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 grievous. . . . Dear, dear Reginald. I had hoped so con- 
 fidently he would have been spared ; that so faithful a 
 servant, so noble a pattern of what a Christian should be, 
 would have been preserved to continue the great work for 
 which he seemed so peculiarly marked out ; but God's ways 
 are not as our ways, and the same confidence which led us to 
 trust in his preservation, must now convince us that it is for 
 some great and high purpose he is removed from us. This 
 is one of those mysterious dispensations in which nothing 
 but an unlimited faith can avail us anything. Here is no 
 selfish grief : the public loss seems almost even more than 
 the private one ; yet, who that has ever felt the support and 
 comfort of his friendship, who that ever knew the tender- 
 ness, kindness, and gentleness of nature, added to those 
 uncommon talents and powers of mind, can ever cease to 
 regret that they shall see him no more ? And Emily, poor 
 Emily, where can she seek for comfort upon earth ? She 
 too, on her return to England, which, I suppose, will not be 
 long delayed, will find a second affliction awaiting her, and 
 the home and protector to whom probably she would look 
 for support and comfort, gone likewise. Her children too, 
 who can ever supply the place of such a father to them ? 
 For him, if such a word as envy can be used, how much 
 cause is there for such a feeling in thinking of the termina- 
 tion of such a life, in which he exchanges this world of trial 
 and sorrow for one of never-fading glory ! I am most grateful 
 to have had such a friend to have been permitted an inti- 
 mate acquaintance with a character like his, but after re- 
 ceiving from him the affection and kindness of the tenderest 
 brother, after living so constantly with him as I have done, 
 you may well believe that it is now a hard struggle to feel 
 that we have in this life parted for ever. It was only yester- 
 day morning, before leaving Toft, that I copied out of Mrs. 
 Hutchinson's ' Memoirs ' a passage, which I little thought
 
 CHANGES. 227 
 
 would, in a few hours, be brought home to my mind with 
 such renewed force. I must quote a few lines of it for you. 
 * Let not excesse of love and delight in the streame make us 
 forget the fountaine : he and all his excellencies came from 
 God, and flowed back into their owne spring : there let us 
 seek them, thither let us hasten after him, there having found 
 him, let us cease to bewaile among the dead that which is 
 risen, or rather was immortall, his soule conversed with 
 God so much when he was here, that it rejoices to be now 
 eternally freed from interruption in that blessed exercise, 
 his virtues were recorded in heaven's annals, and can never 
 perish ; by them he yet teaches us, and all those to whose 
 
 knowledge they shall arrive ' 
 
 " We are going soon to stay with the Stanleys at Penrhos. 
 I am glad this bitter news reached us while we were at 
 home , Here, at least, we are surrounded by those who know 
 how much cause there is to grieve. It has been a comfort 
 to me writing to you, for on this subject we can have but 
 one feeling, and you will not be tired with my dwelling upon 
 it so long. Dear Augustus, we have lost two whom we 
 dearly loved; but their spirits continue to live with us, 
 their memories to rest in our hearts, that we may place our 
 hopes on that world to which they are gone before us, and 
 so live here that we may one day be united to them in 
 heaven." 
 
 C. S. to M. L. 
 
 "Sept. 5, 1826. You will well imagine that for the last 
 two days I have thought of little but you, and what you 
 must be suffering : the gap in one's own mind is so great, in 
 everybody's it must be. To be sure he has died at his post 
 as much as any soldier on the field of battle. There is 
 something very fine and affecting, and soothing and ele-
 
 228 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 vating, in reading of the occupation of his time up to the 
 very moment of his death, the suddenly giving his benedic- 
 tion in the Tamul language to the people at Tanjore, his 
 very last act having been the visit to the native colony ; in 
 short, preparation was necessary for those who are left 
 behind not for him. One is so sure that if he had had to 
 choose his death, except the suddenness of it for our sakes, 
 he would have chosen thus to die in the midst of his 
 labours, thus perhaps giving an efficacy to his last words, 
 and leaving an impression on the minds of all who had just 
 heard and seen him, which no labours of a long life spent 
 amongst them could have done. In this respect it is a 
 death worthy of him, of his character, and better than if his 
 health had been impaired and gradually undermined. . . 
 I long to have you out of sight of Hodnet Tower." 
 
 After a visit to Penrhos, Maria Leycester returned with 
 the Stanleys to Alderley, in order to attend the marriage of 
 her friend, Isabella Stanley, with Captain Parry. In June, 
 she went for three weeks to the Isle of Wight, and thence to 
 Paris with her father and Mrs. Oswald Leycester, returning 
 to Sheen for the christening of her brother's eldest son. 
 One of her great interests this year was in the publication of 
 the " Guesses at Truth," by the two brothers, Augustus and 
 Julius Hare. As their " minds had grown up together, been 
 nourished in great measure by the same food, sympathized 
 in each other's affections and aversions, and been shaped 
 reciprocally by the assimilating influences of brotherly com- 
 munion, a family likeness is perceivable throughout the 
 volumes, although perhaps with such differences as it is not 
 displeasing to behold in the children of the same parents."* 
 * Preface to the " Guesses."
 
 CHANGES. 229 
 
 Augustus Hare, who was to pass the next winter in Italy, 
 spent two days at Sheen while the Leycesters were there ; 
 and, as they returned to Stoke, they passed through Oxford, 
 and visited him at New College. 
 
 M. L.'s JOURNAL. 
 
 " Sheen, July 22. Two days spent together here have 
 done away with the reserve hitherto kept up between 
 Augustus and me, and I have far more than I once thought 
 possible, been able to give a degree of affection I was 
 scarcely myself aware of, till it was called forth. Time has 
 done its work in softening down every painful remembrance, 
 in making the past appear as a dream, and giving to the 
 future more of reality. Unconsciously and imperceptibly 
 the feelings of esteem and friendship have assumed a new 
 character, and something of the tenderness and beauty at- 
 tending a warmer interest taken their place. . . . Devotion 
 of heart such as his must either be met and answered, or re- 
 pelled ; there can be no medium of indifference ; and where 
 there is an interest so strong as I have always felt in him, 
 admiration of the whole character, gratitude for the kindness 
 and attachment felt by him, it must be a colder nature than 
 mine which could remain unmoved. It is well that such 
 openness of heart should have been reserved till now, earlier 
 I could not have entered into it so much ; now the seed that 
 is sown needs but watering, and I feel all the happier that 
 we understand each other perfectly, and that both are satis- 
 fied that nothing but time is wanting to give us all the 
 happiness that may be enjoyed by persons between whom 
 there will be such perfect confidence and affection. How 
 extraordinary and singular good fortune has attended me, 
 that I should twice have met with that kind of deep feeling 
 which alone could, I think, have power to interest me, that 
 when the only species of happiness which I imagined to be
 
 230 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 perfect was taken from me, it should spring up again as it 
 were from the ashes of the other, and assume a form nearly 
 as beautiful, and I trust, more enduring." 
 
 " Stoke, August 1 6. I feel now a glow of inward happi- 
 ness which I have long been without, and whether I con- 
 template the beauty of the world around me, or turn inward 
 and dwell on the beauty of feeling, and the many sources of 
 gratification it has given me, my heart swells with gratitude 
 for such enjoyment. Secure of the affection of Augustus, I 
 feel no longer a blank in life, and everything takes a new 
 and brighter colouring. 
 
 " It was a pleasure, though a mixed one, to see Augustus 
 again (at Oxford). The moments of anticipation are in so 
 short a meeting the most real in enjoyment : you do not 
 then dwell upon the parting so soon to follow, and think but 
 of the meeting, and what feeling is so exhilarating as that 
 of hope ? But when you see the person whom a few minutes 
 is about to separate you from for a length of time, the 
 present is not able to exclude the recollection of the future 
 that is so soon to come. ... I do indeed daily feel the 
 blessing of having such a friend to love, and with whom I 
 can hardly be mistaken in looking forward to a happy 
 future." 
 
 M. L. to L. A. S. 
 
 " East Sheen, Jiily 10, 1827. What a pleasure it is to 
 think that the most exquisite moments on earth are but 
 faint images of that which will be ! In beautiful days and 
 nights such as these, how far easier is it to raise one's 
 thoughts, and lift oneself up to higher spheres, and what a 
 miserable and aching void must those hearts feel which 
 cannot ascend beyond the present ! When we look around 
 at a world so beautiful, our hearts must glow with gratitude 
 for having so much of enjoyment given; and if there are
 
 CHANGES. 231 
 
 some things which are kept from us, if we have some trials, 
 some annoyances, if all is not as we could wish it, we must 
 see the mercy of it in leading us to seek that comfort which 
 if every earthly blessing were granted to us, we might per- 
 haps neglect and forget. Oh, at times how clear, how 
 straight seems the path we should follow, making one 
 object our chief and great concern, and all things subser- 
 vient to that forgetting ourselves, except in the exercise of 
 examining self and striving to show worthily our Christian 
 profession by a more unwearied endeavour after good and 
 love to all around us. But then comes human weakness, 
 and our highest resolves often fall, and become of no avail : 
 this, too, has its use, for without such humbling experience, 
 we should not fly to Him who alone can make us strong. 
 We shall never be tried beyond what we are able to bear, 
 and assuredly those whose struggle here has been the 
 strongest, will hereafter reap the more abundantly. 
 
 " I close every evening now by learning a hymn of my 
 dear Reginald's, which sends me to sleep in peace and love. 
 You are hardly aware in reading them, how calculated they 
 are for private devotion." 
 
 " East Sheen, July 29, 1827. Augustus is just gone. . . 
 It is indeed a blessed thing in a world which it needs not 
 eight-and-twenty years to show in its true colours, to feel the 
 repose of resting upon the certain hope of devoted affection, 
 and a peaceful and happy future ; and, although for his sake 
 I could wish for more lightness and gaiety of heart than ever 
 comes to me now, I am quite satisfied for my own that the 
 past has not been in vain, and that it is far better to have 
 earthly hopes and feelings subdued and mingled with 
 higher ones that I can never forget how uncertain and 
 perishable everything here is, and how dependent one must 
 feel on God for every possession granted to us. Of the 
 dearest earthly treasures, any single moment may deprive
 
 232 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 us ; and, in the midst of the purest blessings to be enjoyed 
 here, so much of care, of anxiety, and of vexation is mingled, 
 that nothing but constant and habitual recourse to spiritual 
 comfort can stay the mind in perfect peace, and calm the 
 variableness of human feelings. Surely I should be grateful 
 for the chastening which has brought this more forcibly 
 home, and for the links of sweet remembrance which have 
 attended even my hours of suffering and sorrow." 
 
 M. L.'s JOURNAL. 
 
 "Stoke, August 9, 1827. I have been walking with 
 perfect composure with Mrs. Reginald Heber over those 
 fields where we have so often walked in happier days ; but 
 how did my heart swell within me as I looked upon that 
 beautiful view once more, and, instead of Reginald, had by 
 me only his widow and children ! Time strangely accustoms 
 us to all, even the bitterest deprivations, and above all it 
 teaches us to hide deep within us what is felt. Some years 
 ago I could hardly have thought of the circumstances 
 under which we have now met as bearable. How all is 
 changed the gay, the spirited of our party then, now gone 
 to their eternal home, no trace left of those who were so 
 very dear ! I am much affected by the letters from Dacca, 
 which Mrs. Reginald has given me to read. How powerful 
 a lesson does such a death-bed give ! The same hour must 
 come to all, and cold, lukewarm, and indifferent as the 
 heart now is, in the near approach of a separation of the 
 soul and body, the true state of things will flash upon us 
 with the same strong conviction. To put myself in 
 imagination in this situation I ever find the best means of 
 making my heart feel its own insufficiency, \feel that in the 
 moment of expecting to appear before God, every fancied 
 good must at once sink into nothing, and the blessed pri- 
 vilege of seeking the mercy of the Saviour be clung to as
 
 CHANGES. 233 
 
 the only refuge. But without going beyond the present, I 
 find a strange difficulty in bringing myself to more than a 
 cold belief in all the Gospel teaches. I am but as a 
 beginner in those things which I have so long thought of, 
 and I am aware that my heart is filled with pride, vanity, 
 and selfishness, even when I seek to do my utmost. That 
 I am sincere in my endeavours to discover the truth, to 
 seek after the right way, God surely knows, and in his own 
 good time I know that He will assist and strengthen me in 
 every good work, and give me that blessed hope which 
 brightened the last days at Dacca." 
 
 " Oct. 28. The more we advance in Christian knowledge 
 the narrower seems the way : so many difficulties seem to 
 start up, so many trials to arise, of which we have lived 
 unconscious before, and the self-humbling nature of all real 
 inquiry into ourselves leaves an almost discouraging sense 
 of how much there is yet to be done. We are too apt to 
 compare ourselves with others as imperfect and perhaps 
 more erring, instead of seeing how far below the Gospel we 
 fall, or how inferior we are to many who have so much 
 more to struggle with than we have ; in short, if there be a 
 way in which it is possible to deceive our own hearts into 
 the belief that we are better than others, or that we have 
 excuses for not being so, we instantly adopt it. Surely, of 
 all the Christian graces, that charity, which vaunteth not 
 itself, is not puffed up, doth not behave itself unseemly, 
 beareth and endureth all things, is the most hard to attain. 
 I daily feel it so. It is so difficult to bear with patience 
 and allowance the faults of others. It is very mistaken to 
 think that the great occasions of life only demand religious 
 feeling and principle : it is in the everyday petty annoyances, 
 the constant call upon our charity, forbearance, and meek- 
 ness, that we feel the constant want of some stronger and 
 more powerful stimulant than the feeling of the moment,
 
 234 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 to smooth down the rubs of life and make our existence 
 one of peace and happiness." 
 
 " April i, 1828. As I search deeper into things unseen 
 I seem to gain clearer views of evangelical truth, and in 
 looking back I see how little my former ideas upon the 
 subject were consistent with the word of God itself. For 
 this increase of knowledge I feel that I am chiefly indebted 
 to those books and those writers usually stigmatized as 
 Evangelical and Calvinistic. I cannot enter into the (as it 
 appears to me) narrow and prejudiced feeling which would 
 at once discard every book in which there were expressed 
 any opinions differing from one's own, and even in which 
 there might be mingled expressions at variance with good 
 taste and judgment. Fallible as all human efforts are, we 
 must distinguish in everything the wheat from the tares, 
 and though I may not agree and feel on many points with 
 another, I can benefit by and admire others which he 
 perhaps may represent in a more striking light than many a 
 less earnest and zealous author, who may be free from 
 objection and yet may be far less useful. The truth is, 
 nothing but a very strong feeling of religion can inspire 
 such language as shall excite interest and awaken attention 
 in the heart. This strong feeling is usually connected with 
 a strong view on doctrinal points, but it is not inseparable 
 from some of them." 
 
 In the autumn of 1827, Augustus Hare went to Italy. 
 He was detained for six weeks at Perugia, by the results of 
 an accident, where he was most kindly nursed by Mr. 
 (after Sir Augustus) and Mrs. Calcott, who, when he was 
 able to move, took him on to Rome in their carriage. 
 Here he passed several months, chiefly in the society of the 
 Blessingtons, who were then living at the Villa Negroni.
 
 CHANGES. . 235 
 
 " Their house is not perhaps the house for a clergyman," he 
 wrote to Mrs. Stanley, " though not a word is ever said 
 there either on religion, or morals, or politics, which could 
 offend the most scrupulous ear, but I cannot quarrel with 
 people who for my brother's sake have received me both 
 cordially and kindly. Lady Blessington reminds me of 
 Julius' Guess ' Flattery is the nicest thing in the world ; 
 pray don't sugar it too sweet;' Lady Blessington sugars 
 it too sweet New College, Francis, the Vicar of Rum- 
 ford, Landor, all are almost equally superlative : but 
 she is attentive, she is clever, she is affable, she is 
 amusing, she is Irish, she has black hair, and if she 
 does not tire of me, which is not impossible, I foresee 
 that she will continue to force me to dine with her five 
 times a week." 
 
 In the following summer, Maria Leycester also went 
 abroad, accompanying her sister, brother-in-law, two of 
 their children, and her friend Lucy Stanley, to Bordeaux 
 and the Pyrenees, an excursion which gave her the greatest 
 delight. It was on her return to England after this tour 
 that her engagement to Augustus Hare received her father's 
 sanction. 
 
 M..L. foL. A.S. 
 
 "Stoke, Oct. 13, 1828. After all the long uncertainty 
 which has attended every future prospect I have ever had, 
 the change now to thinking one may in reality look forward 
 to the happy rectory I have so often fancied to myself, with 
 one dear companion sharing every thought and feeling, is so 
 great I can hardly at times feel it to be really so. Although 
 to most people the prospect of a curacy on ^700 a year
 
 236 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 would not be a very promising prospect, you may imagine 
 how very little it will affect me, and how happy I may be 
 with the smallest possible outward advantages, provided 
 the essentials are there, and of this, the more I see of 
 Augustus, the more I feel how impossible it is not to love 
 him dearly and entirely indeed there is far more fear of 
 my loving too well than too little, and of the present 
 happiness engrossing every thought and feeling too much. 
 But united as we are in interest about higher things than 
 our mere present happiness, I do trust we may go on 
 together through life improving and advancing towards a 
 better state than this can ever be under its best aspect. . . . 
 I cannot tell you how my heart overflows with love and 
 gratitude to all in this time of joy, or how deeply sensible I 
 am of the goodness which has led me through so many 
 years of chastening and useful anxiety to bring me to such 
 a haven of peace and happiness as I cannot but hope our 
 little home will be. 
 
 " Oct. 24. Anybody would perhaps be astonished to 
 find me sometimes reading upon resignation and afflictions 
 in a time of rejoicing, but the truth is I cannot rejoice 
 without trembling, and never felt more strongly the need of 
 support and stay upon something not human than now, 
 when 1 feel my whole soul is so engrossed with what is and 
 must be so uncertain and precarious. I tremble for myself 
 and for him. We are building upon a happiness to come 
 which appears so perfect that I cannot but feel the possi- 
 bility of its not being realised. In thinking of the future 
 it is with the earnest prayer that I may enjoy what is given 
 me of happiness here, in subjection and complete submis- 
 sion to the divine will, whenever it is thought fit to deprive 
 me of it. Whichever way I turn I see such causes for 
 thankfulness that I know not how to give utterance to 
 half that passes through my mind; at the same time I
 
 CHANGES. 
 
 237 
 
 cannot but feel the trial that such a tie to earth is. On 
 this point, however, I feel sure that I cannot remain 
 stationary with a companion such as Augustus, and that 
 the duties opening upon me will rouse my every faculty 
 and exertion, and be 2 constant call to watchfulness and 
 attention." 
 
 " Dec. 27. I find it increasingly difficult to know how 
 far consistently with a firm sense of truth we can and 
 may suppress what we know and believe to be right, and 
 how far we should yield to the fear of putting a stumbling- 
 block in another's way by differing in anything not essentially 
 material. There are some people, doubtless, who dislike 
 any stronger feeling of religion than they possess themselves, 
 but I think the generality are annoyed by those little things 
 which are usually marks of a party spirit, and which have 
 little necessary dependence upon true faith. I am sure the 
 more we grow in knowledge and advance in love, the more 
 we should strive to preserve that simplicity which is so 
 peculiarly the characteristic of the Gospel, and the more we 
 should guard against the uncharitableness of supposing that 
 any other view except our own must be useless or erroneous. 
 I cannot fancy it possible that one can ever go ' too far, 1 
 because the more one feels on the subject, the more humble 
 one becomes, and one clings to the simple words of the 
 Bible alone, and makes Him one's pattern who never turned 
 any away because they were not entirely perfect, but with 
 gentleness showed them how they might go on to perfection. 
 .... If we analyze ourselves, we may find ample employ- 
 ment without judging our companions ; and in our own 
 imperception and ignorance, may see abundant cause for 
 making allowance and excuse for others, gladly hailing all 
 there is of good, and trying only to lead them on in that 
 path we have found lead to happiness by gentleness and 
 our own fruits of the Spirit."
 
 238 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 M. L.'s JOURNAL. 
 
 " Oct. 1 8. The die is cast, and our fate is decided. 
 After the long years of uncertainty and suspense attending 
 every future prospect, the first certainty was overpowering 
 the first certain conviction that I should indeed become the 
 wife of one to whom every warmest affection is now given. 
 It scarcely yet assumes the form of reality, nor do my 
 thoughts accustom themselves without surprise to the pre- 
 sent view of things. The break through old habits, and the 
 change to new, must be felt strongly whenever it comes, 
 and I feel entering so completely upon a new line of duties, 
 feelings, and occupations, that I rejoice to think I have a 
 little time of quiet previously to prepare for it. How my 
 heart does overflow with gratitude whenever I think of him, 
 of his deep affection, his tender feelings, his generous and 
 disinterested nature ! And the high and overrated estimate 
 he forms of me, I begin to feel, so far from exciting pride 
 or vanity, tends to lower and depress both by making me 
 feel how little I really come up to it, and how earnestly I 
 must strive hereafter not to disappoint the expectations he 
 has formed of my character. His standard is that of Chris- 
 tian feeling and action, and to come up to it in every daily 
 occurrence of life, will require that watchfulness which must 
 not slumber. How it raises and exalts earthly affection 
 when it is joined as it is to such entire confidence and unity 
 of feeling on every subject, and when the motive is so much 
 the same ! Oh, may I be enabled to fulfil this new part ot 
 life in such a manner as may become a real follower of 
 Christ in humbleness and sincerity endeavouring as much 
 as possible to put away self from every consideration, 
 labouring for the good of others, submitting without a mur- 
 mur to their will, and seeking so to temper and moderate 
 the strongest feelings of my nature, that they may never
 
 CHANGES. 
 
 2 39 
 
 draw me too much from higher thoughts, making me love 
 the creature more than the Creator. To Him may I show 
 my deep and fervent gratitude for his infinite mercies to me 
 by making his word the guide and rule of every action, and 
 striving to advance each day in holiness, and in love and 
 charity to all around me. How wonderfully have all things 
 worked together for my good ; and even those things which 
 seemed the most bitter to endure, proved the means of my 
 ultimate happiness ! Most clearly does it show how weak- 
 sighted and fallacious are our judgments how entirely we 
 ought to trust to that power which overrules everything in 
 his mercy for our real good." 
 
 "Dec. 13. How bright a colouring does the sunshine of 
 the mind invest everything with ! the everyday enjoyments 
 of life become clothed with new attractions, as the mind is 
 invigorated and enlivened by happiness, and seem to wear a 
 different aspect from what they once did. And yet I pause, 
 whilst I feel how bright is the prospect before me, and ask, 
 will it indeed last ? The question may be asked, and the 
 fear come across as a shadow over the gleam of the sun, but 
 we shrink from an answer to such a doubt, and the real pre- 
 carious and uncertain thread on which our whole happiness 
 depends, is seldom dwelt upon with anything like a feeling 
 of the truth. There appears to me, however, nothing which 
 can quiet and ease the undefined anxieties respecting the 
 future, but that firm trust in the constant and immediate 
 superintendence of God, which is by so many frittered away 
 in the consideration of second causes. With the sure know- 
 ledge that our smallest concerns are regulated by Him, we 
 may repose in confidence that if it is good for us such hap- 
 piness will be granted ; and if it be hereafter chequered, as 
 we see is often the case, the support and the comfort will 
 come with the trial "
 
 240 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 M. L. to A. W. H. 
 
 " Stoke, Dec., 1828. It seems unnatural to have Christmas 
 unaccompanied with frost and snow; and I think I am 
 almost fond enough of old customs and associations to wish 
 it to be attended with such natural accompaniments, even 
 at the expense of my own comfort. And there is something 
 so cheerful in a bright winter's day, with the sun shining on 
 all the old women's red cloaks as they come to church. 
 By-the-bye, I was struck the other day with the benefit of 
 our regular Liturgy, by hearing from an old woman of 
 eighty-seven that I went to see, how much comfort she de- 
 rived on her sick-bed from the remembrance and repetition 
 of many of the collects and prayers, which by constant at- 
 tendance at church she had treasured up in her mind, 
 never having been able to read, or had any other oppor- 
 tunity of instruction; and the simple way in which she 
 described her filling up in one Sunday what she had not 
 been able to catch or remember in the previous one, might 
 have shamed many a wiser and idler person ; and now in 
 the peaceful and tranquil state of mind which seems to 
 attend her last days, she is reaping the fruits of her humble 
 efforts. It is really a pleasure to contribute to such a per- 
 son's comfort. I feel often now, in the prospect of leaving 
 Stoke, how little good I have done in comparison of what I 
 .might have done in all the time I have spent here; the 
 future must be better employed ; and how delightful it is to 
 think that every exertion will then be shared by my best and 
 dearest friend, and that we shall together strive to show our 
 gratitude for the happiness granted to us by endeavouring 
 to benefit others ! I always feel that ' the situation to which 
 God has called me,' is so exactly that suited to me, and 
 which I should naturally have chosen ; and I own that I 
 cannot look forward to our future life without feeling my 
 eyes fill with tears. I see others contented and happy with
 
 CHANGES. 241 
 
 what is around them, satisfied to have no more intimate 
 communion than that of mere friends or relations ; but I am 
 afraid that I never should have been perfectly happy without 
 some one person to confide in and to love." 
 
 "New Year's Day, 1829. I must employ some portion 
 of this day in talking to him to whom in all probability 
 part of this year will be devoted, if it be only to put on 
 paper what must pass through both our minds in entering 
 on this new portion of life new in every sense to us, to 
 whom this year will open, indeed, a new stage in our pil- 
 grimage, new in its duties, its pleasures, its hopes, and 
 enjoyments. Other years seemed to lie like a blank before 
 me ; I could trace nothing upon them but the probable 
 round of the same course of days and weeks which had 
 marked the preceding one. But this comes attended with a 
 bright train of anticipations ; and if no clouds arise to dim 
 our present sunshine, I am convinced that it must, indeed, 
 be my own fault if the close of 1829 does not find me a 
 happier woman than I have ever yet been. And is no 
 thanks due to the past year, which brought to both of us 
 the first security of our future happiness ? If one had the 
 power to s/iwo, by conformity to God's will, one-half the 
 gratitude with which at times one's heart is ready to overflow 
 in thinking of all He has done for us, how much better we 
 should be ; but I am afraid we are too often engrossed so 
 entirely b\ the gifts as to forget the Giver, or at least to 
 forget that idle acknowledgment is not the only return such 
 love deserves. You will begin to suspect I am inflicting on 
 you a part of that sermon which I amused myself on this day 
 last year with writing, to while away the hours at the Raven 
 at Shrewsbury. But days like these are as resting-stones 
 on our journey, from which we look back upon the winding 
 path through which we have arrived at such a point, and 
 onward to all that is yet in store on the way open before us 
 
 VOL. i. u
 
 242 MEiMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 that way, dear Augustus, which we shall in future travel 
 together. Thorns and briars, it may be, will here and there 
 intercept us and mingle with the flowers on each side, but 
 guided by one feeling and one interest, they can scarcely 
 have power to check our progress ; and so long as we are 
 permitted to be fellow travellers, can we cease to be 
 happy ? " 
 
 M. L. to A. W. H. (after he had been with her at Alderley). 
 
 " Aprily 20, 1829. .... It seemed last night so like 
 old times wishing you good-bye when you were to go by the 
 coach early in the morning ; indeed, more than once, I 
 have been quite taken back to our former meetings in 
 seeing you here, and only recalled to the present by the 
 different no, not different, but stronger feelings now 
 excited. I have before my mind's eye so perfectly those 
 times when you came here during the long winter I spent 
 here three years ago everything you said and did, and a 
 confused recollection of the mingled feelings of pleasure 
 and pain with which I then saw you. I sit in the same 
 place, the door opens, and the same Augustus walks in, 
 but how changed is the feeling ! The past, sacred as it is 
 and always must be, is now no longer the prominent feel- 
 ing ; others less sad have taken its place ; and, happier 
 than I ever was before, I now look forward with the brightest 
 hopes, fearing nothing but that I shall place my happiness 
 far too much on that which must be perishable." 
 
 M. L.'s JOURNAL. 
 
 " Stoke. May 27. In one more week the object of so 
 many thoughts and anxious expectations will be accom- 
 plished, and I shall have entered upon that new state from 
 which I promise myself so much happiness. I can hardly 
 feel now as if such a change were drawing so near, and cer-
 
 CHANGES. 
 
 243 
 
 tainly in the contemplation of it am infinitely more com- 
 posed than I expected to be. That firm confidence which 
 I have in him to whom I am about to commit my whole 
 future happiness takes away every shadow of distrust ; and 
 though I feel at times that I am about to leave so many 
 whom I love for an indefinite time, the stronger feeling 
 overpowers the lesser one, and I feel chiefly gratitude that 
 what so long appeared doubtful and distant is now so nearly 
 certain of being realised. We have been separated so 
 much, and there have been so many circumstances which 
 have kept up doubt to the last, that the feeling we shall 
 now not again be parted is in itself delightful to me ; and I 
 have so long looked forward with so much pleasure to 
 having him as my constant companion, and our enjoying 
 life together, that I can hardly believe the time is now so 
 nearly come. I seek to convince my sanguine mind that 
 such sunshine cannot always last, that my anticipations 
 will not all be realised, and that there will be a thousand 
 little rubs and cares and troubles, of which I have made no 
 calculation, and which will interrupt that enjoyment I have 
 pictured. Be it so. I am not blind to the changes and 
 chances of this life, to the certainty that these are tenfold 
 increased by marrying, and that the anxieties and troubles, 
 when they do come, are of a much deeper cast than those 
 can be of a single state. Were there no such vicissitudes, 
 we should grow too fond of this world, too careless of 
 another. God grant only that such blessings as He gives 
 may never be misused or disregarded, that they may excite 
 fervent gratitude while they keep up dependence, and that 
 when He thinks fit to remove them or for a while hide them 
 from our view, we may resign ourselves entirely to his 
 disposal, and bless Him alike for his chastisement as for 
 his mercies. From the power, influence, and effect of a 
 strong earthly affection I have learnt much of the manner
 
 244 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 in which a heavenly one should influence us, and how irre- 
 sistibly such a course of life as would please God would be 
 the result of such a love to Him as was really deep and 
 sincere. Let me, then, act upon this knowledge, and never 
 be content with that bare acknowledgment of his goodness 
 which leads to no practical end. The highest gratification 
 I can feel is when I have done anything to oblige or please 
 Augustus, and the most painful sensation I can experience 
 is having done anything he disapproves. Ought I not 
 much more to feel this with my Saviour and God ? May 
 He vouchsafe me such aid that I may never forget Him, 
 but daily grow in love towards Him, and by constant 
 dependence on Him be able to perform all those new 
 duties which I would now enter upon with the spirit of a 
 true follower of Christ."
 
 VI. 
 
 WEST WOODHAY. 
 
 "Dans 1'opinion du monde, le manage, comme dans la 
 come'die, finit tout. C'est pre'cise'ment le contraire qui est 
 vrai : il commence tout." MADAME SWETCHINE. 
 
 " Love is surely a questioning of God, and the enjoyment 
 in it is an answer from the loving God himself." BETTINA 
 to GOETHE. 
 
 o 
 
 N the evening of the 2nd of June, 1829, one of the 
 family at Stoke wrote to Lady Jones : 
 
 " I am most happy to perform the part allotted to me, of 
 filling up the details of the events of to-day, so as to make 
 you as much as possible one of the party at Stoke ; and we 
 only wanted you and Mrs. Penrhyn to complete the circle 
 of those most interested in our dear Augustus and Maria. 
 .... The walk through the churchyard was lined with 
 the school-children, with wreaths of flowers in their hands ; 
 one went before us strewing flowers in our path ; and all the 
 silver spoons, tankards, watches, and ornaments of the 
 neighbouring farmers were fastened on white cloths drawn 
 over hoops, so as to make a sort of trophy on each side the 
 church gate, which is, I understand, a Shropshire custom. 
 The church was carpeted and garlanded with flowers, one 
 arch just opposite the altar making a beautiful framework to
 
 246 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 the bride and bridegroom. Maria was quite composed all 
 through the service, and Augustus looked as if he was 
 indeed imploring a blessing upon the union then forming. 
 
 " At two o'clock they drove away, and the last we heard 
 of them was rtiat as they went through Wistanswick, on 
 their way to Newport, the road was again lined with people, 
 and children, and flowers, and that Mrs. Augustus Hare 
 leaned forward and nodded to them all, and looked as 
 smiling and happy as ever." 
 
 Lady Jones meanwhile was becoming increasingly ill 
 daily at her house in South Audley Street, but on the wed- 
 ding day she had written : 
 
 " 2nd June, 1829. I will not let this (I trust) happy day 
 pass without sending my most affectionate kind wishes and 
 blessing to, by this hour (two o'clock), my two dear children. 
 I thought of them often in the night, and never without my 
 blessing and prayers to the All Good and Wise Disposer of 
 all events for every happiness in this life which will best 
 conduce to their eternal happiness in the next." 
 
 Just before his marriage, the small New College liv- 
 ing of Alton-Barnes in Wiltshire had fallen to Augustus 
 Hare as Fellow of his college, and he had accepted it. 
 But the place to which he first took his bride was 
 West Woodhay, near Newbury in Berkshire, which had 
 been lent to him for the purpose by his connection, John 
 Sloper.* It is a picturesque, old-fashioned, red-brick manor- 
 house, with high roofs and chimneys, embosomed among 
 
 * Emilia Shipley, second daughter of the bishop, married W. C. 
 Sloper, afterwards of Sundridge. Mr. Sloper of West Woodhay was 
 her husband's great-nephew.
 
 WEST WOODHAY. 247 
 
 trees ; in front a lawn, backed by the swelling downs ; and 
 at one side, almost close to the house, the little church, of 
 which Mr. Sloper was the rector. A more desolate place, 
 or one more entirely secluded from society, could scarcely 
 be imagined ; and Mary Lea, one of the two maids who had 
 accompanied Mrs. A. Hare from Stoke, and who had 
 already entered upon those loving and devoted ministrations 
 which were to last for her whole lifetime, had many stories 
 to tell afterwards of its unearthly occupants, and the mys- 
 terious noises which were heard there at night. But M. 
 H. as I will call, during this period of her life, her who 
 has been the sunshine and blessing of my own existence, as 
 she was of that of an earlier Augustus Hare was very 
 happy there, and ever after remembered the place with a 
 tender affection. The family history at this time is best 
 told by extracts from the letters which remain : 
 
 M. H. to C. S. 
 
 " West Woodhay House, June 5, 1829. We came through 
 the park at Blenheim, which was delicious on such a day, 
 stopped a short time in Oxford, then to Newbury by 
 half-past five, and then carno on here seven miles through 
 the most charming woody lanes. You may guess the delight 
 with which we approached our home, and found ourselves 
 here. It is the perfection of an old manor-house the 
 house very large, which in this hot weather is very agree- 
 able, and does not look waste or dreary as it might do in 
 winter. The drawing-room where I now write is a 
 capital room, very well furnished, with three windows 
 down to the ground opening on a long lawn running 
 up to the hills, with trees on each side, roses cluster- 
 ing in at the windows, and all looking so retired, I
 
 248 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 should almost say lonely. Then there is a very nice 
 dining-room, and sitting-room for Augustus, besides a great 
 hall, and small library ; and up-stairs my room is magnifi- 
 cent, and there is a large tapestried chamber with family 
 pictures. I don't know how we are to come down to rectory 
 accommodation afterwards. It seems all so extraordinary 
 being here alone, so completely separated from everything 
 and everybody ; and you would have laughed to see me this 
 morning with my two servants, making out to the best of 
 our mutual knowledge or ignorance all the things to be sent 
 for, there being nothing except what has been borrowed 
 from the farm-house for last night and this morning. Mr. 
 Sloper comes to the farm to-morrow, which is very well, to 
 set us in the way of going on. 
 
 " I think you may now give full vent to your fancy in my 
 cause without much fear of being wrong. All you imagined 
 of the tenderness, consideration, and perfect way in 
 which I should be treated falls short of the reality. 
 When I am with Augustus it is but a continuance of 
 that confidence and openness which has so long existed 
 between us, only freed from any doubts or reserve kept 
 up as long as we were in an ambiguous situation. But 
 it seems very odd to find myself so completely removed 
 from all my own family, in so new a place, and obliged 
 to assume the office of mistress of a household to which I 
 am so little used. I could scarcely think of any of you 
 without tears till to-day, and I do not know now that my 
 heart is not very full in turning to those I have left. It is 
 so different from any other parting. He understands it all 
 so well, but says if all women suffer as much in marrying 
 'ander so much less favouring circumstances as generally 
 are, he wonders they ever survive it. . . . . This weather 
 is perfectly delicious. Every now and then a dream conies 
 over me of Tuesday, and I feel as if I was now in another
 
 WEST WOODHAY. 249 
 
 state of existence. I scarcely know yet how to write col- 
 lectedly and say what I feel, for all is bewildering to me 
 at present, especially to know myself in that situation so 
 long uncertain, doubtful, and distant, now really come to 
 pass in the most beautiful form I have ever pictured it." 
 
 M. H. to LADY JONES. 
 
 " West Woodhay, June 6. Your most kind and affec- 
 tionate welcome greeted us here, dearest aunt, last night, and 
 greatly did we both feel your good wishes for us upon that 
 eventful day which has opened so new a life to us both. I 
 trust neither you nor we can be deceived in feeling it 
 to be the beginning of such happiness as is granted to few 
 as far as regards our own mutual confidence and affection, 
 and though, in common with our fellow-travellers through 
 life, we must expect to meet with our due proportion of 
 sorrows and trials, I trust we may then rest upon the same 
 source for trust and support that we do now in gratitude. 
 The account of Tuesday you will receive from Stoke, I 
 believe, and probably a more correct report than we could 
 give at least it seems to me in recurring to that day 
 very much like a dream, and I scarcely know what 
 passed. It is a trying thing and I felt even more than 
 I expected the wrench, if I may so express it, from all 
 former ties to form one so much stronger and which was to 
 last through life. I cannot tell you the tenderness and con- 
 sideration Augustus has shown me, and how he has endeared 
 himself to me more than ever by the kindness of his affection 
 during the last few days. He will now be rewarded by 
 seeing me as happy as he could desire, and in this delight- 
 ful place it seems as if we could scarcely enjoy ourselves 
 enough. . . . The man waits to take the letters, so I must 
 conclude with the dearest love of your two grateful and 
 happy children."
 
 250 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 L. A. S. (Lucy STANLEY) to M. H. 
 
 "June n, 1829. You will well know how I have rejoiced 
 in your letters. Our visions and pictures of all you were 
 to enjoy are indeed realised, and God grant, my own 
 dearest and best friend, they may long be lent to you. I 
 see your house at Woodhay, and know it as if I had seen 
 it its green hay-fields, and the south-like woods and lanes, 
 so unlike our northern ones. I almost feel sorry that this 
 home, where you will pass the first weeks of married life, 
 is not to be your permanent one; but perhaps you will 
 discover as many charms at Alton-Barnes, and every bank 
 you look upon will now be Thymy, and every view sunny 
 and smiling." 
 
 "June 22. You do indeed draw a picture of the sunny 
 Thymy bank so beautiful, that one cannot help wishing life 
 
 should just now stand still for awhile with you I 
 
 hardly ever heard any description of happiness after marriage 
 which sounded so perfect as yours. Everybody says and 
 writes that they are happier than any one ever was, but I am 
 sure that you are so." 
 
 M. H. to C. S. 
 
 "June 12, 1829. We dine at five o'clock, and walk after- 
 wards. You cannot imagine anything more delightful than 
 these fields are so very extensive, more like a park, stretch- 
 ing before the house in a long uninterrupted surface of green 
 terminated by a range of green hills ; and then the hawthorn 
 is such a mass of snowy white, that it quite puts to shame 
 all lanes and hedges with you. What a different style of 
 country it is to be sure so much more really retired and 
 country it looks than the north. I shall try the pony in a 
 day or two with him walking by my side ; he thinks it will 
 not run away. Sometimes he reads to me a little, and any- 
 body would have been amused to see him one evening read'
 
 WEST WOODHAY. 251 
 
 ing me a sermon of Skelton's, ' How to be happy, though 
 married.' To-day he has got down a volume of Rousseau 
 out of the little old library in the drawing-room, and has 
 read me some of the letters to Julie, which he calls eloquent 
 nonsense. 
 
 "June 13. I am most perfectly happy and comfortable. 
 Last night we had a delicious walk to a farm-house about a 
 mile off so pretty, it was covered with roses and plants all 
 over the outside of the house, and I made friends with the 
 mistress, who sent me a loaf and oven-cake as a present. 
 Breakfast over, I go to the kitchen, inquire into matters 
 there, scold about the bad bread, contrive a dinner out of 
 nothing, find out how many things are not to be had for 
 asking. ' No, ma'am, you can't have that because there is 
 not such a thing,' is my general answer. Then my bonnet 
 is put on, and we sally out into our park, find out new 
 paths, come home, ' Letters and butcher,' and so there is 
 business for the morning. 
 
 "June 20. The last week has been very enjoyable. I 
 have ridden every day, and Molly goes quite well, only 
 fidgeting at setting out. However yesterday she gave us a 
 fright. We went up the hill, higher than we had yet been, 
 to a point where was a gallows erected. It was exceedingly 
 windy, and in getting up the highest mound, such as the 
 beacon at Alderley Edge, the pony was excited, either by 
 the noise of the wind against my hat, or by its being so 
 high ; and if Augustus, who was at a little distance, had not 
 seen for I think he could scarcely have heard my cry of 
 distress and hastened to my aid, in another minute I 
 should have been galloping away over those high downs 
 as hard as the pony could go. My terror was momentary. 
 Augustus led the animal down, the wind being too high for 
 either of us to speak ; but when we got under lee of the 
 wind, and the pony was quiet again, the fervent way ir.
 
 252 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 which he seized my hand ' God bless her ! God be 
 praised ! ' showed how he had been frightened. I don't 
 suppose there would have been any danger for a bold rider, 
 who would have given herself up to the speed ; but I think 
 I should have been too much frightened to stick on long. 
 It was a splendid map view, and our way home through 
 delicious lanes. 
 
 " He is going with me through the Greek Testament, 
 reading two chapters each morning after breakfast and 
 lecturing upon them, he reading the Greek, I the English ; 
 and he goes into it thoroughly. Sometimes he surprises me 
 by, ' Now this is very difficult I don't understand this one 
 bit ; ' and so then we compare different passages, see what 
 is the connection, what is alluded to, &c. in short, it is a 
 very interesting lecture." 
 
 M. H. to L. A. S. 
 
 "June 27. This place is quite what I have so often 
 thought the first home ought to be, and what it so seldom 
 
 is in reality I delight in our Sundays ; the relief 
 
 it is to cast one's self upon Him who will be with us in joy as 
 in sorrow, and upon whom we may repose with sure con- 
 fidence those trembling feelings of joy, whose uncertainty is 
 often felt, showing us the need of support even in rejoicing. 
 I longed for you to have been here last Sunday to have 
 heard my husband in the church. His preaching is so 
 earnest, and brings the subject so home, that I cannot but 
 feel all the time it must be doing good, and if his peculiar 
 manner has the effect of rousing attention, it is certainly 
 useful. Then he cordially unites with me in every plan of 
 considering the good of our little household, and I look 
 forward with still greater pleasure to all that we shall join in 
 when we have our own parish. I can hardly tell which 
 part of our day is the most enjoyable; but perhaps our
 
 WEST WOODHAY. 253 
 
 evening walk or ride is the most so. Do not you know the 
 pleasure of hunting about in a library full of odd volumes 
 and old editions of books, all mixed in strange confusion ? 
 We found yesterday an old ' Pilgrim's Progress,' with queer 
 cuts and engravings, which was amusing to look over. He 
 is reading Milton to me, and sometimes Wordsworth, and 
 anything else called forth by the occasion. Then he enjoys 
 a little song, and there is a very tolerable large pianoforte for 
 me to play to him upon." 
 
 M. H. to C. S. (the same evening). 
 
 " Augustus and I were in the midst of our reading an 
 hour ago, when a chaise drove up to the door, and in 
 walked Mr. Sloper. His first words were, that Lady 
 Jones was scarcely expected to live through the day, 
 and Augustus would just have time by the return chaise to 
 catch the coach. There was a note from Julius, begging 
 him to come immediately. You may guess the hurry and 
 agitation of the moment, the putting up his things, &c., and 
 now, almost without my knowing it has been so, he is gone. 
 Yesterdav she was very ill indeed. There was a consul- 
 tation of Brodie, Warren, c. The latter thought very ill of 
 her, and feared for to-day. Mrs. Warren* was with her till 
 past eleven last night, thought once or twice she was gone. 
 She rallied however a little, but Mr. Sloper seems to think 
 she cannot get over this attack. I do hope Augustus may 
 arrive in time to see her, and I feel quite rejoiced to have 
 him off. How one regrets that she has not lived to benefit 
 by the happiness she has given. I feel easier on this point 
 now that I have seen her in London, and that he will feel 
 
 * Penelope Shipley, eldest daughter of the Dean of St. Asaph, 
 married (1814) Dr. Pelham Warren, the eminent physician. Of a 
 most unselfish and charming disposition, she was greatly beloved by 
 all the family. She died in 1865.
 
 254 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 she did know me. How thankful I am to be his wife able 
 to comfort him, and with the right to know and hear every- 
 thing. We had no time for any words when he was leaving, 
 except his reminding me of a dream he had about his aunt 
 a week ago : that she puzzled him by saying she was going 
 into the J3arn, when he asked about her coming to Wort- 
 ing, and which he made out, still in his dream, by the text 
 of the wheat being gathered into the garner ; and he said to 
 me at the time, ' Remember my telling you this.' I got 
 a note from her, written some days ago, full of affection, 
 and thanking me for knitting her some muffitees. . . . 
 Dearest Augustus ! how I shall feel now he is gone the 
 increase of love in the last three weeks. We were saying 
 yesterday how it seemed to grow every day, and how it was 
 quite a grief to him to think of it ; for it could not last, we 
 had no right to be so much happier than other people. . . . 
 How naturally I fall to writing to you in any emergency, 
 that you may share with me every feeling." 
 
 JULIUS HARE to M. H. 
 
 "South Audley Street, June 27. Augustus will probably 
 have left you before this, and you will rejoice to hear he 
 will have the comfort of finding my aunt considerably better. 
 This morning she said she was a great deal better than 
 yesterday. When I was reading some of the prayers for the 
 sick, she asked, ' Is there not one for rendering thanks for 
 an amendment of health ? ' Still, though the danger is 
 averted for the present, I am afraid we must not indulge the 
 hope, even if we ought to cherish the wish, of keeping her 
 long amongst us. Her general weakness is so great, and 
 seems rather increasing than diminishing, that her constitu- 
 tion, however naturally strong, will hardly be able to hold 
 out much longer ; and when her life is so much more 
 thickly beset with suffering than with enjoyment, even those
 
 WEST WOODHAY. 255 
 
 who will grieve most at losing such an object to love and 
 revere, ought hardly to desire that she should be detained 
 from her heavenly reward. 
 
 " God bless you, and make you and Augustus the endless 
 source of happiness to each other. He will probably soon 
 need you to replace his best counsellor and friend, and he is 
 fortunate in having already secured so good a substitute. I 
 hope some time or other to be a witness of, and therefore a 
 partaker in, your happiness. 
 
 " John Sloper has been as kind and attentive, and almost 
 as one of her own nephews, to my aunt" 
 
 A. W. H. to M. H. 
 
 " South Audley Street, June 28. Though Julius wrote to 
 relieve your anxiety yesterday, I presume the loving wife 
 will send over to Newbury for the letter I promised by the 
 night coach, and her messenger must not return empty- 
 handed. Alas ! though there is an improvement in my aunt, 
 it can only be a question of weeks or days. 
 
 " At Newbury I heard the last coach had been gone half 
 an hour. ' Horses immediately.' At twenty minutes after 
 four I was driving up to the inn at Reading, having gone 
 seventeen miles in an hour and a half. ' Is the last coach 
 gone ? ' ' No,' said the landlord, ' it is changing horses at 
 this minute.' ' Gallop on, driver ! ' He did, and we caught 
 it before it started. There was an inside place, so in I got, 
 and by nine P.M. was at home. You may conceive my 
 joy when the servant who opened the door said, ' Her 
 ladyship is much better.' 
 
 " June 29. What a delightful note, dearest, did you send 
 to greet my waking this morning, and make me feel less 
 solitary and widowed, shall I say, or more. It is just so I 
 would have wished my wife to write and think, years before 
 I had one, and when the name was little more than an idea
 
 256 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 to me. To find that idea realised in my own Mia, is a 
 blessing a thousand times too great for me, did God mea- 
 sure out his bounty according to our deserts, and not rather 
 pour it out of his exceeding bountifulness and loving- 
 kindness. 
 
 " My aunt is slightly better. Her nurses have hitherto 
 been my aunt Louisa and Penelope alternately. Dear, 
 good, affectionate Penelope would never dream of feeling 
 tired, or own that she was so, till she dropt ; but drop she 
 will if this attendance lasts much longer, and it may go on 
 for weeks. Julius has formed a plot for you to come up 
 and relieve her a little by sharing her duties. Alas ! if my 
 aunt had done two years ago what she has so nobly done 
 for us this year, she would have had you now to comfort 
 her. As it is, you are still so much of a stranger to her, 
 that there is some fear of her not feeling sufficiently at ease 
 with you in her infirmities. My belief is that three days 
 would get over the difficulty, and make your presence a 
 continual joy to her. I only mention this, that you may 
 not be surprised if you receive a summons. You would 
 come, of course, to a lodging ; you would come to attend 
 on a sick person ; you would have to exercise much judg- 
 ment and steadiness ; but you would feel that you were 
 of use to her who has united us, you would be sensible 
 it is the only return in all probability you will be 
 allowed to make her, and you would rejoice that at the 
 sacrifice of some personal convenience you are permitted 
 to minister a degree of satisfaction and ease to her last 
 moments." 
 
 M. H. to A. W. H. 
 
 " West Woodhay, June 30. What a joy to me have 
 your letters been this morning. It is in such times as 
 these that one feels the full delight of the perfect con-
 
 WEST WOODHAY. 25; 
 
 fidence there is between us. I felt so sure of your under- 
 standing what my feeling would be about your aunt, that it 
 was quite unnecessary to express it. I think if I came I 
 might be of some little use, though less I fear than many, 
 with equal goodwill, from my awkwardness and inexperience. 
 But in this, as in everything else, do and order as seemeth 
 you best; here I am, your devoted wife, whose highest 
 happiness is to do what you think it right she should do. 
 
 " Do not be very vain when I tell you that there was a 
 very large congregation on Sunday evening, great part of 
 which was much disappointed at not hearing you preach 
 for which laudable purpose they had gone to church ! So 
 you see your sermon of the Sunday before gained other ap- 
 probation besides that of your partial Mia. 
 
 " I need not tell you how much I miss you, nor tantalisa 
 you with thinking what a delicious walk we should have had 
 yesterday evening after the rain ceased ; but somehow or 
 other Woodhay does not look so gay and cheerful as it did 
 some few days ago, and I hear no laughing voices sound- 
 ing in its passages." 
 
 M. H. to C. S. 
 
 "June 30. I am satisfied to have had our first month of 
 enjoyment unsullied. That enjoyment has been so great 
 as to make me only the more anxious to show my gra- 
 titude to her who has given it, and to gratify him by the 
 full extent of whose tenderness and consideration I have 
 benefited by so much. The separation of this week will 
 icconcile me to being in any place with him, though 
 the exchange of Woodhay delights for a lodging, with 
 summer-days to be passed in a sick-room in London, is 
 not exactly what one should choose. But there is no help, 
 and I doubt not if it is to be, we shall find ample cause to 
 rejoice in having done it. 
 
 VOL. i. s
 
 258 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIKE. 
 
 " I thought this morning what a pleasure there is in the 
 power of sending one's one servant off to the post just at the 
 time he ought to be bringing in breakfast submitting to the 
 indignity of having the coffee brought by a maid rather than 
 wait for the letters. No quantity of servants or money 
 could make rne feel more independent than the perfect 
 command which marriage gives one over the few one has, 
 and the complete choice left to one's self which inconveniences 
 to choose. I have just regained strength and spirits enough 
 to enter upon the new duties awaiting me, if so it is to be. 
 How destined my life seems to be not to stagnate. I look 
 forward to Alton as quite a haven of rest and peace. As 
 much as anything I dread the jealousies there will be about 
 my being with Lady Jones ; however, I have nothing to do 
 with that." 
 
 M. H. to A. W. H. 
 
 "July i. How I did want you yesterday to admire the 
 most glorious sunset. Mr. Barker, or Burford, or whatever 
 is the name, might have taken some good hints for his Pan- 
 demonium in that glowing sea of fire, with the streams 
 issuing out of it, and the splendid battlements of clouds 
 piled one above another closing it in. Even Mr. Sloper 
 was obliged to stand still and admire it, in spite of the 
 ominous appearance for the hay ; and truly it has not de- 
 ceived us, for to-day the heavens seem inclined to pour out 
 their utmost fury upon us,, and it will be well if you find 
 anything remaining of Woodhay floating on the top of the 
 waters when you return. 
 
 " Let me take advantage of Mr. Sloper's absence among 
 his workpeople, to draw near to my Augustus and tell him 
 how he lives in my thoughts. I can no longer cheat myself 
 with the fancy that he is ensconced, book in hand, pre- 
 tending to write letters of business in the library; nor flatter
 
 WEST WOODHAY. 259 
 
 myself with the idea that he is pacing the tapestry-room 
 for exercise this rainy day. It seems to assume a very real 
 
 air of separation now " 
 
 " July 2. The account to-day is most disheartening. 
 That our dear aunt may be spared further pain is now all 
 that we can hope or pray for her in this world. Would that 
 I had gone with you and could have shared the anxiety and 
 attendance of those who have so devoted themselves to her 
 last days, and to whom it will be a lasting satisfaction to feel 
 that they have done so. But this could not be, and I only 
 feel thankful that you have yourself been able to be with 
 her to the last. I have had a very distressing thing to do 
 this morning, in breaking to Ravenscroft (the cook) the 
 sudden death of a sister to whom she was much attached. 
 She was in sad affliction, and it went to my heart to cause 
 so much grief; but there could not be a time when such a 
 communication would be made with more sympathy than 
 after receiving your sad letter, and feeling that ere this you 
 probably are mourning the departure of one who has so long 
 been an object of interest and anxiety. Dearest, how I wish 
 to be with you it is needless to say. You are with those who 
 feel as you do, you will have much to do, and you know 
 that when the time comes, and everything is done that can be 
 done, and you have paid the last tribute of respect and affec- 
 tion to her who has been so kind to you from childhood, you 
 will find me to feel for you and with you, and who through 
 life will seek to be your comforter and friend . I cannot tell you 
 how glad I am that this has not happened before. As your 
 wife I may share every feeling, and, as far as earthly comfort 
 can go, contribute all I can to replace what you will lose." 
 
 A. W. H. to M. H. 
 
 "Juty 2- She is much weaker. All muscular power has 
 ceased. When lying quite back in her chair she seems
 
 260 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 easiest. The fire is going out for want of fuel. The pulse 
 proves the vitality which still remains, but the machine is 
 worn out. Penelope still insists on sitting up every night. 
 There is an occasional cheerfulness in my aunt's manner, 
 and a constant thought and care about others, which are 
 the best practical Christianity, and worth all the sermons in 
 the world. 
 
 "J u ty 3- ' Much the same, but feebler, and, if possible, 
 thinner,' is Dr. Warren's report to-day. Her senses are 
 growing dimmer. Last night, for the first time, she did not 
 make me out. This morning she did not know Julius, and 
 Penelope doubted if she knows anybody. The greatest 
 comfort is that she is calm and quiet, and apparently suffers 
 little. She often smiles; and her talk, as far as I have 
 heard it, though wandering, is on agreeable subjects. 
 
 "July 6. My black seal and paper will have announced 
 to you that all is over. She was called from us at ten 
 minutes after nine this morning. Nothing could be easier 
 than her departure. She literally expired, or breathed away 
 her soul, without a struggle or a groan. Shall we envy or 
 grudge her the reward of her years on years of active 
 munificence ? " 
 
 M. H. to A. W. H. 
 
 " West Woodhay,July 8. My own dearest Augustus, you 
 know how I feel with you how every thought and feeling 
 goes along with you in recurring to the many years of 
 kindness and affection which must come before you, in 
 feeling that she to whom you have so long looked for 
 assistance and guidance, who has been an object of such 
 long anxiety and interest, is indeed gone. How grateful I 
 am that I have seen her, and to have the impression which 
 none but personal evidence can give of what she was, and 
 still more grateful am I to have the power now of sharing
 
 WEST WOODHAY. 261 
 
 your grief and seeking to fill up the chasm her loss must 
 have made to you " 
 
 Very little doubt had been entertained before the death 
 of Lady Jones as to the contents of her will. To Mr. 
 Sloper, to Dr. Warren, and to other friends, she had 
 frequently spoken of it ; and all her relations believed that 
 she had left her property at Worting to Mrs. Warren 
 (Penelope Shipley), her house in South Audley Street to 
 Francis Hare, a legacy to Julius, and the residue of her 
 property, with her library, pictures, and furniture, to Augus- 
 tus, whom she had always regarded as her adopted son. 
 After her death, however, the rightful will was never found, 
 and it was supposed that she had destroyed it when her 
 mind was enfeebled by her last illness, mistaking it for the 
 old will, which was found, and which was inscribed " To 
 be burnt." To all the three brothers this was a great 
 distress as well as a serious loss. 
 
 A. W. H. to M. H. 
 
 "July 7 1829, South Audley Street. Dearest, dearest 
 Mia. How providential our marriage took place when it 
 did ! Had it been delayed another month, it might not 
 have taken place for years. My aunt, the most methodical 
 of women, and possessing an amount of clear understanding 
 which would have done credit to the best men of business, 
 she, with all her minuteness of detail, has left two wills in 
 the same envelope, and in such a state that it seems clear 
 the second is good for nothing, and the chief question is, 
 whether it invalidates the first. If it does, she has died 
 intestate ; if it does not, her money goes almost entirely 
 (for the greater part of it will certainly go) to the last pos
 
 262 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 sible persons in the world she would have wished. And as 
 for Worting, it is not even named ; though she had promised 
 it to Dr. Warren, and, it is quite clear, meant to give it him. 
 
 " The last will, which has the signature obliterated, and 
 ' this to be burnt ' written at the bottom, is dated as far back 
 as 1821. The other is a will of 1809, when my sister was 
 
 alive, and is chiefly in her favour However, thank 
 
 God ! her life was spared long enough to carry into partial 
 effect her kind and generous intentions in my behalf. 
 
 "July 8. Old Lewis, the Worting bailiff, has written, 
 ' No doubt our loss is her ladyship's gain, and her dear soul 
 is at rest.' His letter is perfect in its way, from its serio- 
 comic mixture of genuine feeling with scraps of book and 
 sermon phrases. He talks of ' How much she will be 
 nr'ssed by the poor of Worting, and regretted by all.' 
 She will be missed, indeed, unless the search to-morrow at 
 Worting after a will is successful, and produces some 
 inheritor of her kind-heartedness as well as of her land. I 
 have myself not a doubt that it will produce it. The more 
 Julius and I have compared our thoughts on the matter, the 
 more certain we are that my aunt- has not by negligence, in 
 the most important arrangement of her life, contradicted 
 sixty years, or more, of methodical and provident activity. 
 
 "July 9. Doubtless there is another, and of course a 
 perfect will. So many circumstances on inquiry have come 
 out, all pointing the same way, that the fact appears to me 
 as certain as anything can be, which rests only on pro- 
 babilities and presumptions. It was made about last 
 Michaelmas, and it cannot have been destroyed since. 
 Mislaid it may have been ; but sooner or later it will be 
 found. Perhaps it is so now, or at least it will be, ere I 
 finish my letter, for Francis, Julius, Mr. Seton (our good 
 lawyer), and Charles Shipley, set out in a britska this morn- 
 ing at seven, for Worting; and, allowing them six hours
 
 WEST WOODHAV. 263 
 
 for their journey, they are at this moment searching for it. 
 They return to-night, but it will be late before they can get 
 back. It is for the sake of justice, and of seeing my dear 
 aunt's intentions (whatever they may be) carried into full 
 effect it is that those who have equitable claims on her, 
 and that the poor, may not be deprived of what she 
 destined for them, and not from any personal interests of 
 my own, that I am anxious to have her will produced. 
 
 "July to. You will grieve to hear that our expectations 
 have been sadly disappointed. Worting has produced 
 nothing. That a will was made at the time she obliterated 
 the signature from the will of 1821, and that she believed it, 
 or some subsequent one, to be in existence, is quite certain, 
 from fifty speeches during the last two months. Whether it 
 has been destroyed by accident, or laid by too securely to 
 be found, I know not. It is not forthcoming, and perhaps 
 never may be ; but to Julius and me, and indeed to all who 
 love her, and not her property, it is a great consolation that 
 thio inconvenience, grievous and manifold as it is, is not 
 aggravated by a conviction no, nor even by a suspicion 
 that she was procrastinating or neglectful about her last and 
 most important worldly act. In the meantime a suit an 
 amicable suit, for so I find they call those suits which 
 provoke more ill-blood than any other must be instituted in 
 Doctors' Commons ; and if the second will is not quashed 
 there, the interpretations of the last clause carries us, still 
 amicably it is wonderful how amicable people are when 
 their dirty interests are engaged into the very pleasant Court 
 of Chancery. God show us the way out of all such evils ! " 
 
 M. H. to C. S. 
 
 "J u ty I2 - I w i h vou could know that at this moment 
 I have got him back. Mr. Sloper being too ill to return 
 yesterday for his duty to-day, Augustus was obliged to put
 
 264 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 aside his scruples about leaving the house in South Audley 
 Street, and come in his place, and you may imagine what a 
 meeting we had about eight o'clock last night. If he had been 
 dead and risen to life again, I could scarcely have felt more 
 in having him again. He looks most wretchedly, so thin 
 and care-worn, and has been made quite ill. He consulted 
 Dr. Warren, who said, 'You have come from the extreme of 
 happiness to the extreme of misery, and the revulsion has 
 been too great. Go home to your wife, and she and quiet 
 will be better than all the medicines in the world.' It seems 
 quite clear that there must have been a subsequent will, 
 even if she destroyed it by mistake. Francis seems to have 
 behaved very well. In giving directions the first day after 
 her death, he burst into an agony of tears, and could not go 
 on. When the will leaving a thousand pounds to him was 
 read, he proposed at once its being divided between Julius 
 and Marcus. In case neither of the wills are good for 
 anything, the property would be equally divided amongst 
 the brother and sisters' children giving thus one share 
 to the Dean's children, one to Mrs. Hare's children, 
 one to Mrs. C. L. Shipley, and one to Mrs. Sloper's only 
 child, Mrs. Charles Warren, so of course the Hares' proportion 
 for each would be small. Lady Jones leaves ^3,000 in one 
 of the wills to charities. It is very puzzling, very annoying, 
 and likely to be a long source of discussion. Everything 
 else found is order and method itself letters all ticketed in 
 packets, ' For Augustus and Julius to read, and afterwards to 
 be burnt,' and the same to others. All accounts are paid 
 up to Easter. Augustus heard her mutter to herself, 'All 
 my worldly affairs are settled, servants and all.' A few days 
 before her death she dictated as clearly as possible a 
 beautiful letter to Lord Spencer. A year ago he had asked 
 for Sir J. Reynolds's portrait of Sir W. Jones, evidently wish- 
 ing to complete his collection. She was affronted, and re
 
 WEST WOODHAY. 265 
 
 fused. This letter was to tell him she had reconsidered his 
 request, thought Sir W. J. would have wished him to have 
 it, and begged his acceptance of it ; that she had now but 
 a few days, perhaps hours, to live, and could not be 
 satisfied without employing her nephew Julius, as she was 
 too ill, to write ; spoke of the mortification she had felt in 
 his doing nothing to promote Marcus, which she had so 
 much at heart ; but as worldly things had become of less 
 import, the pain she had felt on this account had diminished, 
 and she heartily forgave it to him, and hoped he would 
 equally forgive any hasty word she might have used in 
 speaking on the subject ; that she had now great pleasure in 
 complying with his request, and had always retained the 
 sincerest affection for him. She begged it might be sealed 
 with black, and sent when she was gone, and she then 
 seemed satisfied that everything was done. The brothers 
 give Mrs. Pelham Warren a diamond ring with Lady Jones's 
 hair in gratitude for her attentions. Augustus says Julius 
 cried himself into a fever on the day of the death." 
 
 A. W. H. to M. H. 
 
 "Jufy *7- John Sloper will tell my dearest Mia all the 
 particulars about the funeral how Julius read the service 
 over her, slowly, distinctly, and with a voice that scarcely 
 faltered ; how, after it was over, the brothers walked down 
 with Charles Shipley to the church to fix on a place for 
 her monument ; how liberally and with what disinterested- 
 ness Charles has behaved in the scheme he has drawn up 
 for a compromise ; and all other how's which you would 
 have a painful interest in hearing." 
 
 M. H. to C. S. 
 
 " West IVoodhay, July 19. I think 1 wrote on Thursday 
 night after Penrhyn went. Friday was a thorough wet day
 
 266 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 again. I had my fire, and wrote out a long extract from 
 Blackstone about New College and Winchester, Founder's 
 kin, &c., as I was ordered, and was thinking how comfort- 
 able one could always be when left quite alone, when in 
 walked Mr. Sloper. However, he brought me a letter from 
 Augustus, and the latest news about the funeral, &c. Julius 
 read the service. Nobody attended but the servants, the 
 three brothers, Charles Shipley, Mr. Seton, and himself. 
 The only news about the will is that they have found some 
 money in the French funds, making her property amount to 
 above ^60,000. They say Mrs. C. Warren is sure to do 
 what is right and handsome, and Mr. Sloper is very 
 anxious she should, as she is his cousin. Then Shipley 
 Comvy, who is heir-at-law to Worting,* has written in the 
 handsomest manner to Dr. Warren, saying that his aunt did 
 not intend him to have it, and as she had declared her wish 
 that he should have it, he shall certainly make it over to 
 Dr. Warren a fine thing to do, as ,7,000 might have been 
 too great a temptation to give up at twenty-two. She in- 
 tended to have founded two scholarships out of Worting, 
 which I believe Dr. Warren will do, and he has some land 
 in Wales, which he will probably give to Shipley Conwy 
 near St. Asaph so it will be a system of giving up and 
 giving. I find the envelope to all the papers was evidently 
 new, and not written above a year ago. This seems to me 
 decisive that the new will was put into the same cover, 
 and that it has been wrongly destroyed. To be sure it is 
 provoking ! 
 
 " You may guess how impatient I am to hear about 
 Alton-Barnes. When once settled, I think I shall be so 
 happy I shall not know what to do. There is something so 
 enlivening in having real things to do, and I shall be 
 so busy in making my garden and everything nice. I 
 
 * His father, William Shipley, was eldest son of the Dean of St. 
 Asaph.
 
 WEST WOODHAY. 267 
 
 begin to feel a little more naturalised, and less as in a 
 dream. 
 
 "July 26, 1829. I am glad you feel the comfort of my 
 details, and that you find in this I am not as yet changed ; 
 indeed, I know not how it could be otherwise, and with one 
 who has so long shared every thought and interest. I feel 
 as if I could hardly separated as we are likely to be tell 
 enough of all I feel to make up for the want of personal 
 observations and intercourse. I regret so often that it will 
 
 be so long before you see us as we are He has been 
 
 very busy composing his letter to the Bishop of Winchester 
 about the evils of Founder's kin, which plague him much, 
 and he walks up and down the great saloon up-stairs half 
 the day. I do not know what he is to do at Alton with 
 rooms too small for any quarter-deck here he has been so 
 spoilt by having such great space for his pacings. Then on 
 Friday came a notice to Mr. Sloper of a confirmation whilst 
 he is away, so Augustus will have to prepare the people for 
 it. He is certainly very queer about his writing ; whilst he 
 takes such time often to write a letter, at other times he is 
 equally rapid. Yesterday before service he was about ten 
 minutes writing a sheet-full upon confirmation, which aftei 
 his sermon he brought out, with the bishop's letter, and I 
 dare say surprised the people not a little, telling them how, 
 a stranger amongst them, he was unable to do all he would 
 otherwise wish to do in inquiring into the state of theii 
 families, &c., but exhorted them to attend to this notice, 
 and that he was ready on his part to do everything to help 
 them to a right understanding of this part of their duty ; 
 that he should fix a time when he knew who were willing to 
 come such a time as might suit not his convenience but 
 theirs, to whom time was more valuable ; and then he 
 brought forward every objection they could make to being 
 confirmed, and asked what Christ would say on being told 
 it was too much trouble !
 
 268 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 " Yesterday I had my mind enlightened upon the origin 
 of Augustus's interest in and fancy for military tactics and 
 politics of all the youthful dreams he had, all kept to him- 
 self, and nourished up the long vision of delivering his 
 country, as he then considered Italy, from the Austrian yoke. 
 His account of his early habits of thought quite accounts for 
 any originality of ideas always making a point of not read- 
 ing the opinions of others, finding out the/arts, and working 
 them out in his own mind. 
 
 " I am amused to think how little most women would 
 have suited him, and how exactly I do. His love for 
 ruminating by himself, to anybody without resources of their 
 own, would be so dull, and he would not like that eternal 
 interruption which many wives would give ; then their being 
 fussy about trifles, talking about their neighbours' concerns, 
 vagueness, and the very least regard to appearances or 
 show, would annoy him so much ; and yet, without liking a 
 wife to be troublesome in fondness, he would ill have borne 
 with the slightest coldness ; so that, without vanity, I cer- 
 tainly am more adapted to his wants than most could 
 have been. Perhaps I might equally say of myself 
 that, indulged as I have always been, I should have borne 
 ill any person of more irritable nature, and less tender and 
 considerate. Putting aside all other considerations, I never 
 saw anybody so easy to live with, by whom the daily petty 
 things of life were passed over so lightly ; and then there is 
 a charm in the refinement of feeling, which is not to be told 
 in its influence upon trifles. 
 
 "July 27. A new parcel of books has just arrived, and 
 Augustus having seized upon one, I have no chance of a 
 word for some time, and so you shall hear all what you are 
 wishing to know about his expedition. At Salisbury he 
 went through all the forms of institution with the bishop. 
 Saturday, with difficulty, he found his way by cross-roads to
 
 WEST WOODHAY. 269 
 
 Alton-Barnes, pi*. ..is hand upon the church key, rang the 
 bell three times, and on Sunday went through the morning 
 service with all the Articles and other necessary declara- 
 tions the evening service, prayers, and sermon ; which 
 latter, not being prepared, he was obliged to borrow a ser- 
 mon, and says it was the worst he ever read. This all done, 
 he was duly inducted rector of Alton-Barnes. And now for 
 the house. It has steps up to the door, a wide passage, good 
 staircase, dining-room on one side, study on the other ; up- 
 stairs drawing-room, three bedrooms and dressing-closet, 
 five good attics, fit for single gentlemen. The rooms low, 
 small, confined. The first thing to be done to cut away a 
 clump of trees just before the windows, excluding all air 
 from the lower rooms. Church a couple of hundred yards 
 off; and a second church close by, belonging to Alton- 
 Priors, a parish of which we shall have the principal charge 
 probably, as* the clergyman lives four miles off, and there is 
 only service once in three weeks. Augustus looks for com- 
 fort to the high downs on each side of us. I think my 
 eagerness to get to our own house and the readiness to 
 leave Woodhay has much abated since I have anticipated 
 the exchange from this large room, large windows opening 
 on so fine a lawn, to the little confined limits of a low room, 
 small windows, a chalk road, and a barrier of trees, and I 
 look at our fine expanse here with infinitely more admiration 
 in thinking how short will be our enjoyment of such luxury. 
 Then Woodhay now, with the return of fine weather, of 
 Augustus, &c., has returned to its first charm, and we shall 
 have a second honeymoon in comfort." 
 
 " August 2. Augustus is so shocked at the ignorance of 
 the people here who have come to him about confirmation, 
 that he is set down to write a sermon for them this evening. 
 I therefore will sit down to instruct you, not about confirm- 
 ation, but about Alton-Barnes.
 
 270 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 " To be sure, Woodhay does seem a paradise on return- 
 ing, and the fine space and breathing-room is so enjoyable ! 
 But comparisons are odious, and we will forget Woodhay, 
 whilst I tell you of our home that is to be. A delightful 
 day we had on Friday. The drive through Marlborough 
 Chase Lord Ailesbury's was exquisite. We stopped at 
 Marlborough about three-quarters of an hour looking at 
 household furniture to be sold, and we found little enough 
 to wish for. About two o'clock, after a beautiful drive 
 through the vale of Pewsey, we arrived at Alton. Could wo 
 have stopped three miles on this side, we should havt 
 been in the prettiest, most delightful country I ever saw ; 
 but we are just a little too far, getting too much upon the 
 barren chalk downs. Alton itself is quite an oasis in the 
 desert a hamlet, with much wood and green meadows, all 
 shut in to a small compass, backed on every side by the 
 green hills, which are more broken and better formed than 
 those here, and in a drawing I dare say would give the 
 effect of being in a fine mountainous country ! It was much 
 prettier than I expected, and the approach to the Rectory 
 agreeably surprised me. It is red brick, it is true, and the 
 door is in the middle, with little windows on each side, but 
 then it has the tint of old age ; the front is nearly covered 
 with clematis and jessamine, and the little green sloping 
 terrace and shrubs and trees round it, though rather con- 
 fined, give a look of quiet and retirement. The inside was 
 much what I expected, very comfortable as to the number 
 of rooms, but the size being fourteen and fifteen feet square, 
 and low, seemed very confined after our spacious quarters 
 here ; and then, as we dined eleven, we saw them to the 
 greatest disadvantage. The study, which has shelves all 
 round and cupboards below, looked the best; the others 
 scantily furnished and wretched ; yet I could not help 
 thinking how much we should have to do to make them
 
 WEST WOODHAY. 271 
 
 even as full as they are now Miss Crowe took me all 
 
 over the house and offices. She was, I suppose, a little 
 shy, and I felt exceedingly the awkwardness of the situation, 
 coming to turn out these people who had lived there 
 eighteen years, and were much attached to the place ; so 
 that, further than seeing went, I made little progress, and I 
 felt quite in despair how to set about anything further. 
 After dinner we went out to the church, which is the 
 smallest place you ever saw, with about half a dozen pews. 
 A farmhouse close to it, with the prettiest possible flower- 
 garden, excited my envy. I was introduced to the lady of 
 it and her daughters, who are of quite a higher order than 
 our farmers in the north. Alton-Priors is quite close, and 
 the church, which I wish was ours, has a fine old tower and 
 magnificent yew-tree. I settled my first sketch at once. 
 Altogether it is certainly very pretty. The worst part is the 
 roads, being chalky, and in winter they say it is like walk- 
 ing through so much mortar, no stirring without pattens old 
 Stoke lanes must have been excellent in comparison. Next 
 morning we got on much better. Miss Crowe began to 
 find out my ignorance, and to offer her advice ; and with 
 much kindness set to work helping me to take dimensions 
 for curtains, carpets, &c. She was, I am sure, much 
 amused by my ignorance, and Augustus's perfect helpless- 
 ness, and I believe she pitied me greatly in having no assist- 
 ance from him, but ' settle it just as you please.' 
 
 " I feel no doubt we shall get very fond of the place, and 
 that Augustus will be heartily sorry to exchange it for 
 Hurstmonceaux. The barrenness of the downs gives our 
 little hamlet quite the appearance of an oasis in a desert, and 
 there is something especially appropriate to the character of 
 a pastor and his flock in the having them all so immediately 
 under his own eye. I am very happy in seeing, by the ex- 
 perience here, how much Augustus makes himself beloved
 
 272 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 by the poor people, and how much they like his plain and 
 homely style of teaching them. 
 
 " August 6. Augustus says, ' Now you will write to 
 K.,' all the people being gone, and as it is a pity not 
 to fulfil his expectation, I will so enjoy myself. Of course 
 Mrs. Hare-Naylor's dreaded visit has not been so 
 alarming as my expectation. She came just before dinner 
 on Monday, with our two half-brothers, Gustavus and 
 
 Reginald, and our half-sister Georgiana. David 
 
 could not have waited upon us all, so Mary came in to 
 assist him, which she did with the same good sense and 
 good humour with which she does everything. Everything 
 seemed to go on with so little trouble, I wondered how 
 people with tolerable servants can contrive so much fuss. 
 One day, to be sure, Augustus said there was not dinner 
 enough, and another day too much ; but I told Mrs. H. N. 
 she must in her mind unite the whole, and it would amount 
 to a right proportion of feeding during the three days ; and 
 she laughed heartily, and I dare say forgave the inequality. 
 
 " Did I tell you of the good sermon Augustus got up to 
 preach on Sunday evening, written in three hours. In such 
 sort of talking sermons he will never have any difficulty. 
 He had a hard day's work the men and women in the 
 morning to be questioned, and in the evening, after dinner, 
 the farmers' sons. One man of fifty wished to be confirmed. 
 'Do you know who Jesus Christ is?' 'Why, please your 
 Honour, I canna' rightly say.' But of the seventy people 
 in the parish, twenty-seven are to be confirmed. Yesterday 
 was a charming day. Uncle Hugh Leycester came just as 
 we were going to breakfast. He was very much affected on 
 seeing me, and some time before he could recover himself, 
 and I thought he looked ill. He was much interested in 
 seeing the place, and he looked so pleased to see me 
 so happy, and cried & good deal when he went away.
 
 WEST WOOD HAY. 273 
 
 " As Mr. Sloper's hay was spoiling for want of hands, 
 Augustus set us all to work yesterday to turn it, setting the 
 example himself. 
 
 "August 26. Having shut out these stormy winds, beat- 
 ing with, the fury of December against the windows, made 
 up my fire, and got candles, I will employ my solitary even- 
 ing in writing to you. Augustus is gone with Mr. Sloper to 
 dine at Lord Carnarvon's at Highclere ; for yesterday, as 
 Augustus and I had been riding in the park there, just as 
 we were going out of it, we met Lord Porchester, who 
 expressed much surprise at seeing him, and much regret at 
 not having known before of his being in the neighbourhood, 
 as well as of his being about to leave Highclere himself. 
 So this morning there came a servant over with a note, 
 begging Augustus would excuse the short notice and dine 
 there to-day. As nothing was said about me, I did not sup- 
 pose myself invited, but advised him to accept so kind an 
 invitation. Highclere is a most beautiful place. The woods 
 there, though on a larger scale and wilder, reminded me of 
 the Alderley beech-wood, and were not less admired on that 
 account. The day before we rode to Lord Craven's, 
 Hampstead, which is on a smaller scale, but extremely wild 
 and pretty. You may think how I enjoy these rides, and 
 seeing something of this country. My steed is the pleasant- 
 est I ever mounted, having all the free-going and spirit of a 
 hunter, and the steadiness which gives perfect confidence 
 As for Augustus, he trots along upon Molly, and keeps me 
 in a fright, when she is in one of her fidgets, with the addi- 
 tional anxiety, that when he gets annoyed with her, he does 
 not choose to be conquered, and so sets off, leaving me to 
 my fate, while he finishes the battle in a ploughed field. I 
 think at our neighbour Mr. Butler's they must be much 
 amused by him finding a volume of Clarendon or of Par- 
 liamentary Statutes the minute he gets into the room, and 
 VOL. i. 'i
 
 274 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 without another word sitting down in a corner, and not 
 speaking till dinner. I am sure I am invaluable to him in 
 saying all the proper things and laughing at his ways. We 
 dined there on Saturday, and he got up at five on Sunday 
 to write his sermon. He has now got through four of the 
 confirmation series, and will end next Sunday. The last 
 was on the Atonement, and taken partly from Erskine's 
 Internal Evidences. He talks to the people about the star 
 that shines so brightly over Woodhay Hill, about what the 
 house at Highclere is built of, about the crown in the 
 Tower of London, with various other illustrations, amusing 
 enough I dare say to them. He finds greater facility both 
 in writing his sermons and in catechising than at first, and 
 will certainly take a great interest in it. 
 
 " The Cedars, East Sheen, September 2. Here I am once 
 again, and very strange and odd I feel being here in a new 
 capacity. We arrived yesterday about four P.M., and found 
 them all standing at the door to receive us. We have 
 parted from West Woodhay quite as our home, and have 
 now done with it as our house, and shall never be there 
 again in the same way. It is the close, too, of a happy era 
 the first three months which we both regret ; and, com- 
 ing away to other people, it seems becoming like them, and 
 getting accustomed to separation. 
 
 "September 12. We have been several days in New 
 Street for our shopping, and I certainly did feel in its full 
 extent the comfort of such an associate as Augustus in such 
 a. business the perfect temper, readiness to assist, and the 
 perfect liberty which it gave one. I believe we were far 
 more independent having no horses to consider, walking 
 where we pleased, and then stepping into a cab or chaise ; 
 and so we set out about ten, and never returned to New 
 Street till five or six, stopping to eat when we felt disposed. 
 In a shoo in Wardour Street Augustus bought a study
 
 WEST WOODHAY. 275 
 
 chair, of old carved oak, with a crimson cushion, and he 
 flatters himself that his reverence seated in that will be 
 much respected ; and I ordered a book table according to 
 my own fancy, having two shelves above, a bureau part, and 
 shelves below, with a cupboard at each end. These have 
 been our only extravagances. 
 
 " West Woodhay, September 21. We took Worting on 
 our way back here, getting there by two o'clock. It is an 
 ugly country of enclosed downs, but of course was full of 
 interest. We stopped at the inn at Worting to order some 
 dinner, drove up to the house, about two hundred yards up 
 a lane a pretty wooded village, with three or four good 
 houses in it. It was a less formal and much prettier place 
 than I expected, even as it looked on such a wet day. 
 Mrs. Butcher, Lady Jones's faithful maid, was there to 
 receive us, having been ordered there to attend to the valu- 
 ation of everything, and very sad she looked. Augustus 
 took me all over the old places, and ' Here she used to sit 
 this was her arm-chair this her sofa and so I used to 
 move it for her," &c. with many little details. Down-stairs 
 is a dining-room, little study, and breakfast-room ; up-stairs 
 a drawing-room, with three windows and books all round, 
 very like the room at Penrhos, and just fitted up in that 
 sort of style, very comfortable without being fine. A fine 
 gleam came luckily to enable us to go out, and I went all 
 over the gravel walks with Augustus, and very pretty they 
 are nice beech avenues making a round of about three- 
 quarters of a mile. We saw old Lewis the bailiff, and Susan 
 our future dairy-maid. Augustus picked out all books be- 
 longing to himself, a few pamphlets out of one drawer and 
 a few out of another, put aside out of the china what 
 belonged to them as children, &c., for Mrs. Butcher to keep 
 apart. She, poor thing, seemed sadly distressed at what to 
 do, nobody to say what should be done or not so troubled
 
 276 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 that Augustus would not dine there. There was the sketch 
 hung up of Augustus and his wet-nurse. I should like to 
 have that. I longed to have stayed longer looking over all 
 the old places. It looked as if Lady Jones had just left it, and I 
 am very glad to have seen it in the old original state. The 
 books would make a very nice addition to our library, a 
 great many modern and some good standard books. After 
 dining at the inn, we set out in pouring rain, going three 
 miles out of our way to Overton to see old Sally Penton. 
 The poor old woman wept bitterly on seeing us ; said she 
 could not get over her loss as she ought ; so delighted to 
 see me ; and sate all the time with both my hands in hers, 
 kissing me, and saying, whenever Augustus went to talk to 
 the granddaughter, what a dear good man Augustus was, 
 and how everybody loved him, and wished he could have 
 had Worting, and of all he used to say and do, and talked 
 about how lucky we were married first, just as you would do. 
 She is just such a little withered acute old woman as Lady 
 Jones was herself, eighty-four, but would hobble down to 
 the door to see us go away, and never did visit I believe 
 give more pleasure. We took her two bottles of wine and 
 a chicken, and Augustus gave the granddaughter ;io 
 towards the payment of the pension, which unluckily Lady 
 Jones had forgotten to pay before leaving Worting. All 
 this was delightful. We had then about eighteen miles 
 on here. Before we reached Highclere, the daylight was 
 gone ; one of our lamps was broken, so we could only light 
 % one. The post-boy could not find his way in these most 
 intricate cross-roads ; and, after driving into a farmyard or 
 two, having to ask our way, &c., we at last took a guide, 
 who, perched on the boot, directed the turns, and some- 
 times helped to turn the wheels when the horses refused to 
 draw up some of the steep hills, as they did two or three 
 times, being completely knocked up. Anything so bad or so
 
 WEST WOODHAY. 277 
 
 dark, or so doubtful if we should ever get home, I never 
 felt. We began to debate about sending for Mr. Sloper's 
 cart-horses to drag us on. However, at last, by stopping 
 every hundred yards to rest, we got here at ten o'clock, 
 having been five hours coming from Worting. 
 
 " Woodhay looked its old self in yesterday's sunshine, and 
 I enjoyed it exceedingly, and love it so for our first days of 
 happiness. It seems strange not being master and mistress, 
 and we think it was regulated better in our reign. To- 
 norrow forty people or more come to a bow-meeting, and 
 Mr. Sloper having given no positive orders about the 
 dinner or anything, makes a confusion which nothing but 
 good temper can regulate. Of these forty I know two, and 
 shall have to do the honours to all ! " 
 
 "Sept. 1 6. Mr. Sloper went out hunting on Monday, 
 and gave no definite orders to the last. Augustus and 
 I laid our heads together to arrange the dinner, measure 
 the table, and set in some sort of order the profusion of 
 game which filled the larder, and some of the party actually 
 arrived on Tuesday whilst I was writing out the bill of fare. 
 It was awkward enough for me, having to receive people I 
 never saw in my life ; however, Mr. Sloper returned, and about 
 one o'clock thirty-six people were assembled. The day was 
 fair and fine. The lawn, mown as smooth as that at Sheen, 
 with the meadows and hill beyond, was just made for such a 
 purpose, and certainly wanted nothing but a little sunshine 
 to make it a beautiful scene. Luncheon was laid at two 
 o'clock, and the shooters came in by turns. Six ladies and 
 about fourteen gentlemen shot. Of the former, a sulky- 
 looking girl, who had the good wishes of none of the party, 
 carried everything before her, and succeeded in winning 
 the prize, a very pretty butterfly brooch. I had little to do 
 but look on, and every now and then Augustus and I 
 escaped to rest ourselves and moralise on the wearisomeness
 
 278 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 of pleasure. I got dressed early, and then, by showing the 
 people to their different rooms, getting their respective 
 things carried up, and assisting at the toilettes of two or 
 three, made amends for any inattention in the morning, for 
 my conscience rather reproached me for skulking away. It 
 was half-past seven before we got to dinner in the hall ; 
 really, considering all things, it was wonderfully well 
 arranged, and very little confusion. I begged off sitting at 
 the top of the table, and sat by Mr. Sloper. After dinner 
 were speeches and toasts and the presenting of the prize ; 
 then I bowed to the lady nearest me and we came out. 
 Whilst they had their tea and coffee I stole out to super- 
 intend the lighting of the ball-room. The saloon up-stairs 
 was capital for this purpose, and altogether the number and 
 size of the rooms just suited such a party. About ten we 
 began dancing, and I really found myself dancing away with 
 all the gaiety, I was going to say, of fifteen ; but no at 
 fifteen I never danced with half the spirit. You cannot 
 think what request I was in as a partner. Mr. Tom Smith, 
 the keeper of the foxhounds in this county, begged Augustus 
 would present him to me, it must be such a treat to dance 
 with anybody who enjoyed it so much. Accordingly, I 
 found him as much up to it, and we flourished away just as 
 you and R. L. used to do. He was quite a better sort of 
 foxhuntef, said he liked everything he did only too well, 
 and evidently could find resource in everything he under- 
 takes. You may guess how thoroughly Augustus was 
 bored. If was nearly three o'clock before we went to 
 supper, and four before the house was cleared and we went 
 to bed. and I never was more dead tired. However, every- 
 body seemed pleased. The supper was very pretty, and 
 there was much marvel how Mr. Sloper could have managed 
 it so well. I have no doubt I got infinitely more credit 
 than I had any right to, for I really don't know how it was
 
 WEST WOODHAY. 279 
 
 all done. It was rather amusing likening the different 
 people to those one knows ; they are exactly the sort of class 
 described in ' Emma.' 
 
 " Francis Hare is just arrived. What an odd man he is. 
 He walked in just as if he had been in the house two 
 months, talked in the same tone, and has a sort of non- 
 chalance which is very curious. Yet when he rouses 
 himself up, he comes out with something odd and humor- 
 ous, and has sense enough about common things. 
 
 " Sept. 30. Yesterday Augustus had a cold, and, besides, 
 thought that a thirty-mile ride would be further than either 
 he or his pony would approve of, so Mr. Sloper drove me to 
 Alton in his gig, and I was charged with full powers of 
 decision about everything to be settled. We set off about 
 eight, taking David on the pony as our pioneer through 
 the bad roads. It was a lovely day, and I certainly seemed 
 doomed to see the most favourable side of Alton. We got 
 there soon after eleven, and found a pretty state of con- 
 fusion a waggon at the door carrying off chairs and tables, 
 and the entrance blocked up by our goods coming in. 
 There, at the door, lay the great case from Clementi, the 
 least necessary part of the furniture being the first to arrive. 
 Mr. and Miss Crowe soon made their appearance from their 
 packing operations, and certainly dressed to suit their work. 
 I was amused by Miss C. instantly setting to business, 
 and with scarcely the preamble of ' How do you do ' show- 
 ing me the various tin-pans, &c., she had bought. The 
 house was entirely cleared of furniture, men were white- 
 washing, and women scouring, so that you may fancy the 
 state it was in, showing off all deficiencies in the walls and 
 papers to the utmost. The rooms looked of course larger, 
 and they were beautifully clean. The red American creeper 
 and clematis covering the front of the house, and the old 
 stone over the doorway and windows, made it look suffi-
 
 280 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 ciently picturesque, and anything of hills for the varieties of 
 light to fall upon is always an advantage to a place. I 
 engaged a man to work in the garden for eight shillings 
 a-week, milk our cows, clean the pony, and feed the pigs ! 
 Mr. Sloper sends his waggon with our goods the end of 
 next week, with cow and pig, and on Tuesday the i3th I 
 suppose we shall transport ourselves and our household. 
 All the new things looked nice, and there certainly is a 
 pleasure in beginning from the very beginning, knowing 
 exactly every individual thing in the house. 
 
 " Francis was in better spirits on Sunday. He went off 
 upon statues, and antiquities, and Italian traditions, and 
 was very entertaining all the evening, and had some good 
 stories about the Speaker and the etiquettes of Parliament, 
 &c. He met Sydney Smith in the coach, who said if he 
 was to appoint he would make Augustus warden of Win- 
 chester. I am glad he has not the power." 
 
 C. S. to M. H. 
 
 "Dec. 19. Certainly your present condition is full of 
 wholesome interest and occupation, and, except loving 
 Augustus too much, I don't see any wrong paths before 
 you, and I cannot but admire how entirely you have laid 
 aside all thought and trouble about the will and its decision. 
 
 " Nothing can be more wholesome, more comfortable, 
 more satisfying, than the account you give of your studies 
 and life. I perfectly agree with you in wishing to have no 
 interruption from the trash of book-clubs. It would be 
 well if we had all of us a literary Jephson to put us 
 on a restricted diet of solid food. How I should like 
 to assist no, not assist, but listen invisible to your 
 colloquies; but I expect, by the time we meet again, 
 you will be so drawn out, that I shall be the comparatively 
 silent one.
 
 WEST WOODHAY. 281 
 
 " On Wednesday, when we were at Lathom, came an 
 express from Knowsley, saying there was to be a railroad 
 exhibition that day near Prescot, and the Liverpool tunnel 
 lighted up for Lords Harrowby and Sandon next day. So 
 we got off as soon as we could, and drove straight to the 
 railroad at Prescot, and there found Charlotte and Penrhyn, 
 and the wonderful locomotive engine flying past. To us, 
 who have no turn for these things, and therefore cannot or 
 do not realise any description, the seeing them comes with 
 such novelty and force, and brings such a train of new 
 thoughts this thing, which is to convey carriages, people, 
 goods, everything, from Liverpool to Manchester, thirty 
 miles in an hour, ruining half the warehouses at Liverpool 
 by making Manchester into a seaport town, the goods landed 
 at the docks at Liverpool being henceforth transported at 
 once into the warehouses at Manchester in as short a time 
 as they now take in being carried from the lower to the 
 upper part of the town. The effect of the velocity is that 
 when you stand on the railroad and watch the machine 
 coming, it seems not to approach, but to expand into size 
 and distinctness like the image in a phantasmagoria. They 
 would not take any car for passengers that day as it was a 
 newly constructed engine, and they were only trying ; but 
 it gave one a sensation seeing it whiz past. The next day, 
 at ten o'clock, Penrhyn, Edward, Mr. Stanley, and I, set off 
 in the Derby coach and four for the tunnel, which is at the 
 end of the aforesaid railroad an excavated vault of a mile 
 and a quarter under the town of Liverpool, coming out at 
 the docks. Lord Harrowby and Lord Sandon were just 
 arrived, with Adam Hodgson, one of the directors of 
 the said tunnel, Scoresby of the Arctic Regions, James 
 Hornby altogether about twenty of us. We went first 
 to see the carriages in preparation for the railroad. I had 
 no idea it was all in such a state of forwardness. They
 
 282 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 are like the omnibus, a coach with a chariot at each end, 
 some fit for twenty, some for thirty passengers ; also cradles 
 for pigs, cattle, and goods; and platforms with railroad 
 wheels, upon which you may drive your carriage and horses 
 as into a steamboat, stand still, and be transplanted as upon 
 the fairy carpel for thirty miles while your horses are 
 baiting, ready to drive off and take you on, and making a 
 ferry of it ! They are now thinking of continuing the 
 tunnel under the Mersey, so as to supersede the real ferry 
 altogether to Seacumbe. This seen, we got into a kind of 
 German post-waggon all twenty a horse cantered with us 
 up the little tunnel as they call it, and then was taken off, 
 and we were launched into the great tunnel, a vaulted 
 passage lighted with lamps suspended from the centre ; a 
 slight push sent us off, and away we started at the rate of 
 thirty miles an hour, our speed increasing as we went on, 
 perceptible only from the strong current of air, and the 
 passing the lamps so rapidly. I never felt so strange, so 
 much in a state of magic, of enchantment, as if surrounded 
 by new powers and capabilities. In less than three minutes 
 from having entered the tunnel in the country, we came out 
 on the other side of Liverpool at the docks. The first 
 effect of daylight was beautiful, and of finding ourselves we 
 did not know where, after the rapid motion, bewildering. 
 We got into our coach again grumbling at Macadam roads, 
 and the Derby pace of ten miles an hour Edward lament- 
 ing his hard fate at being fifty years old at the beginning of 
 such things, Mr. Stanley amusing in his speculations as to 
 the effect of these things in various directions. I tell you 
 all this because you in the South must be in a state of com- 
 parative behindness and darkness, and you will hardly 
 believe, as I did not, what is doing till I had seen it. I 
 dare say Augustus will like to know it all. Alas ! at this 
 moment you have not him to turn to not that I pity
 
 WEST WOODHAY. 283 
 
 you one bit. I do enjoy complete solitude and freedom 
 so much myself, that, though you have a great privation 
 to set against it, I am sure you have a sister feeling 
 about it." 
 
 M. H. to C. S. 
 
 " Oct. 1829. You must have one more letter from Wood- 
 hay. At this moment the waggon is loaded with our twenty- 
 seven boxes, and is to start early to-morrow, and Mary goes 
 off by coach to get to Alton a day before us. She has 
 taken all the trouble, thought of everything, and is quite 
 what E. S. would call a brave femme her spirits rise with 
 the occasion. 
 
 " I shall feel as if we were married again, or rather that 
 we really belong to each other, when we are in our own 
 house. Good-bye, dearest K., I wish you could see how 
 very happy I am. That 2nd of June was a blessed day !"
 
 VII. 
 
 HOME PORTRAITURE. 
 
 " Nature has perfections, in order to show that she is the 
 image of God ; and defects, in order to show that she is only 
 His image." PASCAL. 
 
 HPHE New College living of Alton -Barnes which 
 Augustus Hare had accepted was perhaps the most 
 primitive village in Wiltshire. Completely isolated in the 
 great treeless plain of corn which occupies the Vale of 
 Pewsey, its few whitewashed mud cottages, their roofs 
 thatched with straw and sheltered by large elm-trees, are 
 grouped around an oasis of two or three green meadows, in 
 one of which stands the tiny towerless church of Alton- 
 Barnes, or more properly Alton-Berners, from St. Bernard ; 
 and in the field adjoining the more imposing but still very 
 small church of Alton-Priors, which derives its name from a 
 small monastic institution, of which no relics exist, except 
 the brass of a nun in its pavement, and the name of " The 
 Priory " by which a rather better class of cottage close by is 
 dignified. 
 
 An antiquarian might find much to interest him in the 
 peculiarities of the surrounding country. The extreme 
 openness of the Wiltshire down district causes the ancient
 
 HOME PORTRAITURE. 285 
 
 Saxon landmarks to be more visible than in any other 
 county in England. For instance, in the parish of Stanton, 
 which adjoins Alton, all the boundaries mentioned in 
 Domesday Book are still visible ; such as, an immense 
 thorn-tree of absolutely immemorial age, on the exact spot 
 where " Anna's Thorn " is mentioned ; Anna's Crumble, a 
 crumble being a small round pool for beasts to drink 
 out of; and Anna's Well all these names referring 
 to the saint under whose protection the village was placed. 
 It is interesting, in reference to these ancient boundaries, 
 to read the charter which mentions them to any old shep- 
 herd, and tell him to stop you if he hears any name he 
 knows ; and this is the best means of verifying them. 
 
 The name Alton is Saxon Ea-wal-ton, " the place of 
 beautiful springs," corrupted to Awltoun, hence to Alton. 
 The place is spelt Awltoun in Domesday Book. There are 
 still five springs in Alton-Priors ; one of them is still called 
 Bradwell, by which name it is mentioned in Domesday 
 Book. The exceeding antiquity of the little church of Alton- 
 Barnes is attested by its flat buttresses, refuting the village 
 tradition that the church was removed to its present site 
 from Shaw, a farm high up on the side of the downs. That 
 which was removed from Shaw, where a chapel certainly 
 existed, was probably the windows of the church, which are 
 of much later date than the rest of the building. 
 
 The absolute isolation of the place, without any gentle- 
 man's house except the rectory, without any public-house, 
 with scarcely even anything which can be dignified by the 
 name of a village-shop, has preserved in the character of the 
 villagers a simplicity which is most unusual ; and though
 
 286 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 rough and very ignorant, their straightforward, free-spoken, 
 grateful dispositions made them peculiarly susceptible to the 
 kindness they received from their new rector and his wife, 
 and to the interest which they knew that he felt in them. 
 
 My dear mother has herself left notes referring to her 
 husband's ministerial life, which I will now give in her own 
 words. 
 
 " An artist in painting a portrait finds he has done little 
 towards effecting his purpose when the features are drawn, 
 and the outline completed. These may be true to the life, 
 and yet the whole character of the face the man himself 
 may be wanting. It is a rare thing for a painter to give 
 a likeness that is satisfying to those who have long been 
 familiar with a face, and have been accustomed to see the 
 changes and variations that pass over it as circumstances 
 draw out the inward feeling, to those who have almost lost 
 sight of the outward form in the light that shines forth 
 through it. Now is it less difficult to portray in words the 
 peculiarities and beauties of a living character ? Here and 
 there may be a line of resemblance, here and there a trait 
 recalling him who is departed ; but the whole, the living 
 whole, the source and spring of all the separate acts and 
 words, how can this be manifested ? How can those who 
 knew the original furnish those who did not know him 
 with anything like an adequate conception, or meet the 
 wishes and feelings of those who having known, and loved, 
 and valued the living, desire to have the never-fading 
 recollection in their own minds conveyed to others ? 
 
 " The beginning of Augustus's ministerial services was at 
 West Woodhay. The three months subsequent to his mar-
 
 HOME PORTRAITURE. 287 
 
 riage were spent there, and, in the absence of its usual 
 minister, he performed the service of the church. Hitherto 
 an occasional sermon in a friend's church had been the 
 extent of his experience in preaching, and of the people he 
 addressed he had been wholly ignorant. But while at 
 Woodhay, the examination of some candidates for confirma- 
 tion brought to his knowledge a degree of ignorance on the 
 part both of young and old that both astonished and 
 shocked him. It was clear that, when the ground was so 
 little prepared, the seed of the Word read and preached in 
 church, and the services of the Liturgy, could profit little. He 
 threw aside at once the more regular form of sermon to 
 which he had been accustomed, and wrote down as if he 
 had been speaking, and in the plainest words, such simple 
 instruction as seemed adapted to the wants of people un- 
 taught in the first rudiments of Christian faith. This is 
 mentioned here because it was the beginning of that 
 attempt to teach the poor in a way they could understand 
 which he had so earnestly at heart during his stay at 
 Alton, and which, both in his intercourse with his clerical 
 brethren and in his own family, he often loved to dwell 
 upon, ever noting down from the experience of others what- 
 ever seemed likely to effect this great object. Having lived 
 but little in the country, and his attention having been en- 
 grossed by other subjects, he was, from education and habits 
 of life, unacquainted with the character and wants of the 
 poor. The poverty of their minds, their inability to follow 
 a train of reasoning, their prejudices and superstitions, 
 were quite unknown to him. All the usual hindrances to 
 dealing with them, that are commonly ascribed to a
 
 288 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 college life, were his in full force. But there were some 
 points arising out of his peculiar character and tastes that 
 lessened the difficulty. One of these was his love of 
 plain and simple Saxon English, his dislike of everything like 
 what is called ' fine writing,' and his study of a rhetorical 
 and forcible manner of expression. To those who look 
 upon learning and scholarship as identical with long words 
 and abstruse thoughts, it seemed a marvel how one whose 
 knowledge lay so much more in books than in men, whose 
 mind was both by nature and culture raised above the com- 
 mon standard, could ' condescend to men of low estate/ 
 and clothe his thoughts in language suited to their capacity. 
 But this mystery found its key in the simplicity which 
 belongs to the substance not the shadow of learning, and 
 in the delight he had ever taken in pure mother-English 
 freed from all the foreign innovations that modern affectation 
 has introduced. The chief means, however, by which the 
 want of experience and knowledge touching the minds and 
 habits of the poor was overcome, was the love he felt to- 
 wards all his fellow-creatures, and his sympathy in all their 
 concerns. In earlier days this Christ-like mind had mani- 
 fested itself towards his friends, towards servants, towards 
 all with whom he was brought into contact. It now taught 
 him to talk to his poor parishioners and enter into their 
 interests with the feeling of a father and a friend. This is 
 the feature in his character on which the people of 
 Alton now love most to dwell in recollecting their former 
 minister. 
 
 " From the circumstances of the place, it necessarily hap 
 pened that Augustus could not leave his own house to gc
 
 HOME PORTRAITURE. 289 
 
 abroad without passing by the cottages of the greater part 
 of his people ; while they, too, were constantly reminded of 
 him and made familiar with his ordinary habits of life by 
 their close neighbourhood. Many, doubtless, have watched 
 his pacings to and fro on the little garden terrace near the 
 house, and felt a grateful love spring up in their hearts as 
 they thought how often the meditations there indulged were 
 directed to their profit. 
 
 " Nor did those simple-minded people fail to look on him 
 with reverence when, seated in his study in the midst of his 
 books, they beheld the sources whence he drew so much cf 
 knowledge and wisdom as passed their understanding. He 
 had the power of throwing himself out of himself into the 
 feelings and interests of others ; nor did he less draw out 
 their sympathies into his own, and make them sharers in 
 his pleasures and his concerns. It was not only the con- 
 descension of a superior to those over whom he was placed, 
 it was far more the mutual interchange of feeling of one who 
 loved to forget the difference of station to which each was 
 called, and to bring forward the brotherly union as members 
 of one family in Christ, children of the same Heavenly 
 Father, in which blessed equality all distinctions are done 
 away. Often would he ask their counsel in matters of which 
 he was ignorant, and call upon their sympathy in his thank- 
 ful rejoicing. His garden, his hay-field, his house, were as 
 it were thrown open to them, as he made them partakers of 
 his enjoyment, or sought for their assistance in his need. 
 And when any cause of alarm to his property occurred, they 
 showed how fully they had unconsciously imbibed the feel- 
 ing that it was theirs too. In him they found a friend ready 
 
 VOL. i. u
 
 2QO MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 to listen to all their little grievances, and prompt to remedy 
 them when it was possible to do so. 
 
 " His exceeding love of justice and hatred of oppression 
 made him energetic in restoring the rights of all who had 
 been in any way injured ; while his respect for ' the powers 
 that be ' his child-like submission to authority prevented 
 his sanctioning for a moment any insubordination of feeling, 
 or undue exaltation of the lower above the higher classes. 
 The attempt to soften the hearts of the farmers to their ser- 
 vants, which he continually laboured to effect, was specially 
 needed in the winter of 1830, when so much of hostility was 
 manifested between the two orders in the riots that took 
 place. He then showed himself foremost in defending the 
 property of his chief farmer in the formidable attack made 
 upon it, and at the risk of his personal safety addressed the 
 rioters to try to avert the destruction they were bent on. 
 Two of the most furious amongst them held their weapons 
 over his head, enraged at his interference with their purpose, 
 and they were withheld from offering him violence only by 
 the timely interposition of a neighbouring farmer, who came 
 up at the moment. In consequence of his thus taking part 
 with the farmers, the rectory was threatened with an attack. 
 Before, however, the threat could be executed, the heads of 
 the mob were taken and the rest dispersed. But though he 
 spared no pains to defend his neighbour and to detect after- 
 wards the unhappy men who had wantonly ravaged his 
 house and maimed his person, when the prisoners were tried 
 at Salisbury and evidence was wanting to convict the chief 
 offender of the full crime he was supposed to be guilty of, 
 he returned home rejoicing in the beauty of his country's
 
 HOME PORTRAITURE. 29 1 
 
 laws, which administered justice so strictly and impartially, 
 and inclined to the side of mercy rather than of punishment. 
 
 " One instance of the interest he took in the welfare of 
 the lowest of his parishioners occurred in a dispute between 
 a young lad and his master, ending in a slight misdemeanour 
 on the part of the boy, for which he was committed to gaol. 
 Having in vain tried to save him from this punishment, 
 which he thought too severe a one, he sought by every 
 means in his power to turn it to his good, and, both by 
 writing him letters while in prison and visiting him there, to 
 soften his heart, and bring him to a right sense of his duty 
 to God and man. A great change has since taken place in 
 the character of this young man, and he is now as steady 
 and seriously disposed as his anxious friend desired him to 
 become. 
 
 " It was a favourite saying of his, ' We must get at the 
 souls of the poor through their bodies ;' and, in accordance 
 with this principle, his delight in ministering to their tem- 
 poral comfort was extreme. The arrival of a stock of 
 clothing for the poor was an event of such rejoicing that all 
 who were in the house could not help sharing in his joy. 
 The half-starved peasant, in receiving his warm jacket, was 
 less glad at heart in his new possession than he who was 
 thus enabled by God to share his abundance with those 
 who needed it. Often would his heart seem full to over- 
 flowing when, at a feast prepared for the old men and 
 women among his flock, he waited on them himself, and, by 
 by his gentle and loving words, gave a savour to their food 
 which it would otherwise have wanted. It was clearly he 
 who felt the debt of gratitude to be the greatest in being
 
 292 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 permitted to give to the least of his brethren in his Master's 
 name. But the lively interest he took in all their worldly 
 concerns was shown most fully when visiting the allotments 
 which he had portioned out to each cottager from off the 
 glebe. His delight, as he collected these his tenants round 
 him by his kitchen fire, and consulted their respective in- 
 clinations and powers of cultivating their little plots of 
 ground, according to the size of their families, was very 
 great. Nor did he fail to encourage the industrious and 
 reprove the negligent husbandman, in such a manner as 
 testified how truly their gain and their loss was his also. 
 On many a summer's evening, when the labourer after his 
 day's work repaired to his allotted garden, would his kind 
 friend come and stand by and watch his progress in pre- 
 paring the ground, or weeding it, or sowing his seed, and 
 talk over the various crops of potatoes and beans or barley 
 that he hoped to see spring up in it, and this in so 
 friendly and playful a tone as could not fail to win all 
 hearts.* 
 
 " It may be mentioned, as a proof rather of the prevailing 
 lack of Christian feeling which may truly ' set one mourn- 
 ing,' than of any remarkable instance of consideration on 
 his part, that a labourer who had been allowed to leave his 
 work and was sent home to attend his mother's dying-bed, 
 without deducting the wages- due to him had he continued 
 
 * Another method by which Augustus Hare materially assisted his. 
 people was keeping a shop, in which he sold at two-thirds of the cost 
 price all kinds of clothing and materials of clothing. The shop was- 
 held in the rectory-barn once every week, when Mrs. Hare attended 
 and measured out the flannels, fustian, &c. No amelioration of their 
 condition wa? ever more valued by the people of Alton than this.
 
 HOME PORTRAITURE. 293 
 
 at work, was so touched by this little attention to his feelings 
 that he still speaks of it with tears in his eyes. 
 
 " But though the temporal good and comfort of his people 
 was near Augustus's heart, far nearer was their spiritual wel- 
 fare. On his first coming to Alton the greater part of his 
 hearers were so unaccustomed to listen to instruction or to 
 follow any arguments, that his earnestness in the cause of God 
 was the chief lesson which taught them. It seemed to be the 
 prominent impression on all, whether they understood his 
 teaching or no, whether they were disposed to profit by it or 
 no, ' Mr. Hare does long to save our souls.' The great im- 
 portance he attached to their serving God, and the high 
 standard of Christian life he set before them, were the points 
 that chiefly impressed their minds in the beginning of his 
 ministry among them, and it seemed to awaken in many a 
 sense of their own shortcomings in godliness. As he became 
 more intimate with the capacities and wants of his people, 
 and still more in proportion as his own spiritual feelings 
 became fresher and purer from increased experience of the 
 truths he had to declare, his teaching became more adapted 
 to the congregation before him. Human reasonings gave 
 way to simpler and more spiritual appeals to the hearts of 
 his hearers, and the people were themselves alive to the 
 change, and observed, ' how our minister does grow, 1 and 
 that ' he went more and more on in the Scriptures.' 
 
 " It was in the winter of 1830, that, finding how ignorant 
 they were of the meaning of what they heard in church, he 
 began assembling the men of both parishes once a week in 
 a barn adjoining the rectory. One of the Gospels, or the 
 Acts, was then gone through, and explained in a familiar
 
 294 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 way, illustrated so as to bring it home to their comprehen- 
 sion, beginning and ending with a short prayer. Many 
 expressed the benefit they derived from this mode of 
 teaching, and the additional interest it gave in all they 
 heard in church, and the attendance there was much in- 
 creased from that time. He took great delight in thus 
 drawing them around him, and in the opportunity it afforded 
 of speaking to them more familiarly and directly than the 
 usual services admitted of. Any little events that had 
 occurred in the parish, any misbehaviour or misunder- 
 standing, might then be commented on or set right. It was 
 one of his constant practices to seize on any passing cir- 
 cumstance, and turn it to profitable account. A few words 
 thus spoken in season, how good are they ! More especially 
 while standing over the grave of one newly committed to 
 the dust, would he address the mourners around with suitable 
 words of warning and consolation, and, while he bid them 
 not sorrow as those without hope, exhort them to lose no 
 time in seeking Him who is the Resurrection and the Life, 
 that when they too must lie down in the grave they might 
 lose their life only to find it. On hearing of the death of a 
 man whose sick-bed he had seldom quitted for some days, 
 he hastened to the cottage without loss of time ' Perhaps 
 in the first moments of their affliction I- may be able to say 
 something to the mother and her children that may touch 
 their hearts;' and so, collecting them around him, he 
 sought to impress on them the warning which the father's 
 sudden illness and death had spoken to all. 
 
 " The misconduct of any one that he thought well of was 
 a real grief to him, an 1 he would spare no pains to bring the
 
 HOME PORTRAITURE. 295 
 
 offender back to the right path ; and his joy in the slightest 
 sign of amendment was proportionally great. A poor 
 woman once mourning over the ungodly disposition and 
 behaviour of her only son, he cheered her by the story of 
 Monica's prayers for Augustine, and encouraged her to 
 pray and not faint, in the hope that God would hear her 
 prayers and be pleased to turn his heart. Any surly or 
 ungracious behaviour towards himself was at all times a 
 stimulus to show a more than usual degree of loving-kind- 
 ness, and to endeavour by continuance in courteous words 
 and deeds to subdue the unkindly and harsh feeling. In a 
 road along which he frequently passed there was a work- 
 man employed in its repair, who met his gentle questions 
 and observations with gruff answers and sour looks. But 
 as day after day the persevering mildness of his words and 
 manner still continued, the rugged features of the man gave 
 way, and his tone assumed a far softer character. 
 
 " The one pattern ever before his eyes was his Lord and 
 Master Jesus Christ ; the first question he asked himself, 
 ' What would Jesus Christ have me to do ? What would 
 He have done in my place ? ' Receiving once an almost 
 insulting letter from a person to whom he had shown great 
 kindness, he sat down immediately to answer it ; and when 
 the extreme mildness of the reply was objected to, as 
 addressed to one undeserving of such forbearance and 
 meriting rather a rebuke, his answer was, ' I am not aware 
 that I deserve better treatment than my master Jesus 
 Christ, and He was dealt with more roughly than I am,' or 
 words to this effect. 
 
 " On all Saints-Days, and on Wednesdays and Fridays in
 
 2g6 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 Lent, service was performed in church at such an hour as 
 might best suit the habits of the labouring poor ; and by 
 shortening the number of prayers, it was brought within the 
 limits of time they could devote to such a purpose- - 
 between their return home for dinner, at eleven o'clock, 
 and the going back to their work. Those who could not 
 attend, he exhorted at the sound of the church-bell to 
 follow George Herbert's rule, and, while in the field, to 
 worship their God in heart and mind. On these occasions 
 he was wont to explain the epistle or gospel, and in a few 
 words to give such instruction as the time admitted of; 
 and his people often said they learnt much at such seasons. 
 In the last year of his stay at Alton, he also adopted the 
 plan on a Sunday of commenting on the Old Testament 
 lesson in the morning service, as there was then commonly 
 no sermon except in the afternoon ; and this exposition he 
 used to call ' Postilling.' 
 
 " From his first coming to Alton-Barnes, it was an 
 earnest wish of his heart to do something for the neglected 
 people of Alton-Priors, who were as sheep having no 
 shepherd. Once in three weeks only did a clergyman from 
 a distance come to perform service in the church, and in 
 the intermediate time no notice whatever was taken of any of 
 the parishioners. His desire was to have had the church of 
 Alton-Priors, which was very much out of repair, and the 
 larger of the two, fitted up so as to hold the joint congrega- 
 tions of the two villages, and to have had the two parishes 
 united in one. But this could not be effected without the 
 concurrence of the proprietor, and the passing of an Act of 
 Parliament for the purpose. He therefore performed the
 
 HOME PORTRAITURE. 297 
 
 duty alternately, morning and evening, in the two churches, 
 the same congregation attending in both ; and finding the 
 church in Alton-Barnes too small to contain the additional 
 number who attended from Alton-Priors, he had the arch 
 communicating with the chancel considerably widened, so 
 as to give space for additional pews, and admit those who 
 sate in the chancel to hear and see, from which they were 
 before shut out. For the equality shown to the inhabitants 
 of both parishes, in this and other respects, they ever 
 expressed the most grateful feeling. 
 
 " In the vale of Pewsey the parishes are nearly all small 
 and closely adjoining each other, and as every church has 
 its own minister, the number of clergy is proportionally 
 great. It seemed desirable that these clerical brethren 
 should form some closer bond of union than the common 
 mode of visiting presented, and meet together more ex- 
 pressly for purposes connected with their calling. He 
 therefore united with his brother clergy in forming a clerical 
 society, one object which he felt to be specially needed 
 being the removal of prejudices and lessening of party 
 feeling in the minds of all towards each other, and the 
 enabling those who were young in their profession to 
 benefit by the experience of their elders. Many difficulties 
 arose from the difference of opinion that prevailed among 
 the members as to the propriety of beginning their meetings 
 with prayer, and as to the nature of that preparatory prayer. 
 The High Churchmen were strongly prejudiced against any 
 use of prayer on such occasions, from a notion of its like- 
 ness to dissenting societies ; the zealous Evangelicals urged 
 the advantages of extempore prayer as fitted for the peculiar
 
 298 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 circumstances of the time or place, and they resolutely 
 refused to agree in the formation of any society for clerical 
 purposes that did not adopt some form of worship at its 
 beginning. The middle course that Augustus took was to 
 propose the selection of suitable prayers out of the' Liturgy, 
 alleging that they might in this way approach as nearly as 
 the spirit of the times would admit of to the habits of the 
 olden times, when divine service used daily to be performed 
 in the church. After much discussion, and the lapse of a 
 year, in which all parties drew nearer together, the society 
 was formed, chiefly through his instrumentality, upon the 
 plan he had suggested, and it has since continued in 
 brotherly harmony. On this and other occasions Augustus 
 would often say his was ' Halfway House.' There were 
 few things which made him more angry than to hear people 
 use the expression of 'going too far' when applied to reli- 
 gion. ' Too far! when shall we go too far in serving and 
 loving God, in being made like Christ?' Disliking all 
 illiberality of feeling, he was more particularly annoyed by 
 it when expressed towards those who, acting from religious 
 motives or scruples, differed in opinion or manner of life 
 from others. In such cases above all others he thought the 
 motive hallowed the act so far as to entitle it to be regarded 
 with respect and permitted in charity, even if not altogether 
 consistent with the strictest judgment and most enlightened 
 wisdom. 
 
 " In earlier years he had been ever forward to assert the 
 cause of truth, and fight manfully under its banner when- 
 ever he thought it was opposed ; nor was he slow to wield 
 his sword for liberty or justice. In truth, he seemed to be
 
 HUME PORTRAITURE. 299 
 
 the champion of righteousness under every form, and in 
 society was consequently often engaged in discussion and 
 argument. From the active spring of his own mind he was 
 usually foremost in stirring up conversation in others, and 
 drawing out their thoughts by the vigour of his own. But 
 latterly he became much more reserved and silent in society. 
 This arose partly from an increasing dislike to anything like 
 controversy, and from the consciousness of how much his 
 own opinions differed from others. On subjects both of 
 religion and politics, there was in the prevailing mind of the 
 age, so much in the one of party feeling and sectarian spirit, 
 and in the other so little of enlarged and sound wisdom 
 looking beyond the expediency of the present moment and 
 temporal good, that he found it difficult to sympathise in the 
 views of many whom he respected. 
 
 " While, however, he censured the error of others, he wa5 
 sure to spare and excuse the holder of it. In points of 
 personal conduct, too, he had the rare faculty of hating the 
 sin and loving the sinner. His charity and liberality ot 
 mind was not the kind-hearted easiness of a naturally sweet 
 disposition, reluctant to find fault and tolerant of evil. In 
 him a severe love of truth and uprightness, a hatred of all 
 iniquity, was blended closely with his feeling of kindness 
 and fear of giving pain. An instance of cruelty, of oppres- 
 sion, or of falsehood, would make a change pass over his 
 countenance ; his whole soul seemed to revolt at the mention 
 of any unkindness or ungodliness ; and if in any case an op- 
 portunity occurred where he could hope to convince any one 
 of the evil of his way, no false delicacy to the person con- 
 cerned, nor indulgence to his own feelings, hindered him
 
 300 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 from speaking the whole truth. He was ready to administer 
 the stern rebuke no less than the gentle encouragement at 
 his Master's call. But, in speaking about others, the smallest 
 spark of good was observed and dwelt upon, while every 
 contrary principle that was manifested would be passed over 
 in silence. Even in speaking of those with whom he was 
 most nearly connected, not a word of blame would ever 
 pass his lips. Any extenuation of misconduct that could 
 be urged, any allowances that could be made, were brought 
 forward, and it was often only by the joy he expressed at 
 the slightest sign of improvement, that it could be known 
 how much he had felt its need, and how earnestly he had 
 
 desired it. 
 
 'Not more than others I deserve, 
 Yet God hath given me more,' 
 
 were words that expressed noi only his feelings on one 
 particular occasion, but the prevailing disposition of his 
 mind. Continual expressions of thankfulness would burst 
 from his lips, not as mere words denoting, as they often do, 
 only a feeling of satisfaction in the blessings he was enjoy- 
 ing, but they were the outpourings of a heart full of thankful 
 love to Him who bestowed the blessings, to the Giver not 
 only of the great gifts, but of every little daily comfort of 
 life ; and this, his gratitude, sprang up from the deepest 
 sense of his own unworthiness of such mercies. 
 
 " Perfect contentedness with what was appointed for him, 
 and deep thankfulness for all the good things given him, 
 marked his whole being. In deciding what should be done, 
 or where he should go, or how he should act, the question 
 of how far it might suit his own convenience, or be agree-
 
 HOME PORTRAITURE. 301 
 
 able to his own feelings, was kept entirely in the background 
 till all other claims were satisfied. It was not apparently at 
 the dictate of duty and reason that these thoughts were sup- 
 pressed and made secondary ; it seemed to be the first, the 
 natural feeling in him, to seek first the things of others and 
 to do the will of God, and to look at his own interest in 
 the matter as having comparatively nothing to do with it. 
 And so great a dread had he of being led to any selfish or 
 interested views, that he would find consolation in having 
 no family to include in the consideration ' Had I had 
 children I might have fancied it an excuse for worldly- 
 mindedness and covetousness.' His children truly were his 
 fellow-men, those who were partakers of the same flesh and 
 blood, redeemed by the same Saviour, heirs of the same 
 heavenly inheritance. For them he was willing to spend 
 and be spent, for them he was covetous of all the good that 
 might be obtained. A friend, on looking over his account- 
 book, and seeing how comparatively large an amount of his 
 expenditure had been directed to the benefit of others, 
 suggested that one head of his yearly summary should be 
 entitled ' Public Spirit.' He was never weary in well-doing, 
 never thought he had done enough, never feared doing too 
 much. Those small things, which by so many are esteemed 
 as unnecessary, as not worth while, these were the very things 
 he took care not to leave undone. It was not rendering a 
 service when it came /;/ his way, when it occurred in the 
 natural course of things that he should do it ; it was going 
 out of the way to help others, taking every degree of trouble 
 and incurring personal inconvenience for the sake of doing 
 good, of giving pleasure even in slight things, that dis-
 
 302 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 tinguished his benevolent activity from the common forms 
 of it. The love that dwelt in him was ready to be poured 
 forth on whomsoever needed it, and, being a free-will 
 offering, it looked for no return, and felt no obligation 
 conferred. 
 
 " In society he did not choose out the persons most con- 
 genial to his own tastes to converse with. If there was 
 any one more dull and uninviting than others, he would 
 direct his attention to that one, and while he raised the 
 tone of conversation by leading such persons to subjects of 
 interest, it was done in so gentle, so unobtrusive a manner, 
 that it seemed as if the good came from them, and instead 
 of being repelled and disheartened by his superior know- 
 ledge, they would feel encouraged at finding they were less 
 ignorant than they had supposed themselves to be. How 
 often has the stiffness, the restraint of a small party been 
 dispelled by the loving manner and words with which he 
 would seem to draw all together, and endeavour to elicit 
 the good in all ; and though by nature excitable, and there- 
 fore dependent on outward circumstances more than many, 
 there was ever an inward spring of active thought which 
 made his conversation quite as lively and energetic, when 
 alone with his family, as when called into play by the 
 exertion of entertaining guests. Yet, although he enjoyed 
 society, he liked to be often alone -he liked to walk alone, 
 to be in his study alone. There seemed to be greater 
 freedom for his mind when thus without companions, and 
 he would utter aloud what was passing in his mind, or the 
 words he was composing for his sermons." 
 
 The portrait which the loving wife began to paint breaks
 
 HOME PORTRAITURE. 303 
 
 off here, is left unfinished, and as it was left by her hands, 
 so must it remain ; no one could venture to retouch it. 
 
 Only a mile from Alton, separated from it by the vast 
 undulation of treeless corn-fields, another little village called 
 Stanton clusters around its church and a few elm-fringed 
 meadows. Hither, soon after the Hares were settled at 
 Alton, George Majendie came as rector, and the two clergy- 
 men were soon united in the closest and most affectionate 
 intimacy. Scarcely a day passed without their meeting. 
 
 " When I came to reside in Wiltshire," wrote Mr. 
 Majendie several years after, " I found that Mr. Hare was 
 my nearest clerical neighbour. J was not at that time 
 personally acquainted with him, but I had known his cha- 
 racter at Oxford as a man of talent and of considerable 
 literary acquirements. I soon became intimate with him, 
 and then found that he was not only an accomplished 
 scholar, but that his heart was in his work as a minister of 
 Christ, and that he had truly devoted his life to the care of 
 * those few sheep in the wilderness ' to whom he had been 
 sent as a shepherd. Like George Herbert, he ' knew the 
 ways of learning, but declined them for the service of his 
 master Jesus.' He was not only ready to do good to the 
 poor around him on Christian principle, but he seemed to 
 identify himself with them, to study their characters, to 
 enter into their feelings literally, ' to weep with those that 
 wept, and rejoice with those that rejoiced.' I have often 
 heard him express his admiration of the strength and fulness 
 of their homely phrases, some of which he loved to intro- 
 duce into his sermons. 
 
 " I -shall never forget his appearance at the lectures he
 
 304 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 used to give to poor men on Wednesday evenings. The 
 place was a small barn on his own premises, and the many 
 holes in the boarding, but ill covered with sackcloth, ad- 
 mitted the cold air freely. There was a long table reaching 
 from one end of the room to the other, and on each side of 
 the table sat the smock-frocked audience, most of them old 
 men, each of those that could read with his Bible before 
 him. Mr. Hare himself stood at the head of the table, to 
 distribute to them the bread of life. His great coat was 
 closely buttoned up to the chin, and a large woollen wrapper 
 covered him up to the lower lip. His tall figure was erect, 
 his expressive countenance full of animation his face and 
 figure were not unlike those of Mr. Pitt. A drawing-room 
 lamp, strangely in contrast with the scene, shed a strong 
 light upon the wrinkled and weather-beaten faces of the 
 villagers. 
 
 " When Augustus Hare heard of any kind or noble action 
 performed by another person, I have seen him suddenly 
 start up from his chair, with a strong exclamation of delight 
 uttered in his shrill tone, and hurriedly pace the room, 
 rubbing his hands with glee. He really felt ' a luxury in 
 doing good.' I remember being present at a supper which 
 he gave to some old men in the barn already mentioned, 
 where he assisted in waiting on the poor people, evidently 
 enjoying the repast more than those who partook of it ; 
 and when the entertainment was over, and he returned to 
 his own fireside, his first act was to run up to Mrs. Hare 
 and kiss her, with an ecstasy of benevolence too big to be 
 repressed. 
 
 " He seemed always to think all others better than him
 
 HOME PORTRAITURE. 305 
 
 self. One day I heard him speaking of one of the poor 
 men of his parish, and I asked whether he was a good man. 
 * Oh yes, he is a good man, a much better man than I am.' 
 On another occasion I remember his saying, ' What we can 
 do for God is little or nothing; but we must do our little 
 nothings for his glory.' 
 
 " His whole religion was full of affection. He was not a 
 mere orthodox divine, defining with the closest precision 
 the doctrines which he taught, but every doctrine was 
 mixed up in his soul with love with love to God and man. 
 It may be said of his creed 
 
 ' Of hope, and virtue, and affection full.' 
 
 I well remember one day his laying his hand upon his 
 Bible, and saying, with an indescribable look of reverence 
 and delight, 'Oh, this dear book !' On another occasion 
 he spoke of it as, ' God's great Medicine Book, full of 
 recipes for every spiritual malady.'" 
 
 After Augustus Hare was taken from among his people, one 
 of the residents in Alton-Priors wrote : " I can truly say that 
 the glimpse of his figure approaching our home made my heart 
 leap with joy, and never did he leave it without impressing 
 some valuable truth on my mind. Living too, as I did, in 
 a parish not his own, but one to which he voluntarily and 
 gratuitously gave a pastor's care and superintendence, I felt 
 doubly grateful both in my own behalf and that of my 
 fellow-parishioners ; and well do I remember on one occa- 
 sion, when sitting alone with him in his study, the striking 
 answer he made to my expression of thanks for his kind- 
 ness in coming daily into our parish to spend an hour bv 
 
 VOL. i. x
 
 306 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 the sick-bed of Charles Gale, a poor man, who I believe, 
 through his instrumentality, to have died in peace with God 
 through Christ : 'God has given me an abundance,' he said, 
 ' of which I deseme nothing, and doubtless for wise reasons 
 has withheld from me the blessing of children ; and if I never 
 crossed that little brook which separates what you call your 
 parish from my parish, I think it very likely that Jesus Christ 
 would say to me in the Last Day, you do not belong to my parish? 
 " Amongst others, I believe that he was the first instru- 
 ment under God in awakening serious thoughts for her soul 
 in Jane Jennings. She told me that that which first made 
 her feel a sorrow for sin was a sermon which he preached 
 in Alton-Priors Church. She said, ' I was standing by the 
 door, and as he was earnestly asking us what we came to 
 church for whether we prayed with our hearts, whether we 
 prayed at home and with our families I felt as I had never 
 done before, and when I went home, where I never prayed 
 at all, I told our folks I was sure we were living in a very 
 different way to what we ought to live and that it cut me 
 to the heart to see our minister labouring so much to teach 
 as, and that we paid no attention to his words.' And then 
 she added, 'You cannot think how anxiously I looked 
 through the sermon-books afterwards, to see if that sermon 
 was amongst them, and when I found it I was so very glad.' 
 She also told me that soon after this Mr. Hare made a rule 
 that before the baptism of any child its parents should go- 
 to him for advice and instruction, and it so happened that 
 Jane and her husband were the first summoned for this 
 purpose. She said she had never before dreaded anything 
 so much in her life, having been told by her neighbours she
 
 HOME PORTRAITURE. 
 
 307 
 
 would be puzzled with hard questions. Her minister saw 
 by her trembling how frightened she was, and, as he kindly 
 put a chair for her in the study, said, ' Don't be frightened, 
 or think I keep a large dog to bark and jump out at you.' 
 But his words afterwards made too deep an impression ever 
 to be forgotten, for, turning to the parents, he said with 
 much solemnity, ' Do you wish your child to become an 
 angel in heaven, or a devil in hdir 'If I were going to 
 give your child a large present in money, say twenty pounds 
 perhaps, you would be ready and willing to thank me ; how 
 much more then should you thank God for allowing you to 
 bring your child to the font at baptism, where He promises 
 to give him his Holy Spirit, and make him happy for ever, 
 if you will only heartily and earnestly pray for his blessing?' 
 After these words (which first awakened in the mother's 
 heart that feeling of responsibility she now so largely pos- 
 sesses for her children) he knelt down with them, earnestly 
 praying both for them and their child, and Jane said to me, 
 ' God knows, and at the Last Day I shall know too, but I 
 always think that prayer was answered, for none of my 
 other six children ever asked me the questions which this 
 little boy does for always, when I have him alone with 
 me, he begins talking of Jesus, and asking what he must do 
 to please Him, and when he can go to see Him.' 
 
 " When Prudence Tasker, who had been one of the first 
 received into his newly-formed Sunday-school, was seized 
 with violent illness, how tenderly did Mr. Hare daily visit 
 her dying-bed, obtaining for her the advice of an eminent 
 physician in addition to that of the village doctor, often him- 
 self administering her medicines, applying her leeches him-
 
 308 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 self, and trying to overcome the repugnance she felt to 
 bleeding by telling her it was her ' pastor ' who desired it ; 
 and how often since have her parents dwelt upon the 
 prayers which he offered up in that little chamber of death ! 
 
 " I remember David King telling me once that nothing 
 ever 'cut 1 him so much as the words which Mr. Hare 
 preached after his recovery from illness, and that once 
 while working in his garden, his minister, whilst talking to 
 him, in order to illustrate the wonderful love of Christ in 
 taking man's fallen nature upon him, asked David how he 
 should like to become a toad, convincing him thereby that 
 however loathsome such a change would be to him, yet it 
 was nothing compared to that which the Son of God under- 
 went when He laid aside his glory." 
 
 Augustus Hare was perhaps the first village preacher (there 
 have been many since) who did not scruple in his sermons 
 to speak to his people in the familiar language of ordinary 
 life, and who made use of apt illustrations drawn from the 
 simple surroundings in which his people lived. It is 
 probably from this connection with outward and 
 tangible things that so many of his words still live in the 
 memories of his congregation as vividly as when they 
 were spoken. The following are instances of this practical 
 teaching : 
 
 " The road of life is not a turnpike road. It is a path 
 which every one must find out for himself, by the help of 
 such directions as God has given us ; and there are so many 
 other paths crossing the true one in all quarters, and the 
 wrong paths are so well beaten, and the true path in places 
 is so faintly marked, so many persons too are always going
 
 HOME PORTRAITURE. 309 
 
 the wrong way, and so few are walking straight along the 
 right, that between the number of paths to puzzle him, and 
 the number of wrong examples to lead him astray, a man, if 
 he does not take continual heed, is in great danger of turn- 
 ing into a wrong path, almost without perceiving it. You 
 know how hard it is for a stranger to find his way over the 
 downs, especially if the evening is dark and foggy. Yet 
 there the man is at liberty to make out the path as well as 
 he can. No one tries to mislead him. But in the paths of 
 life there are always plenty of companions at work to mis- 
 lead the Christian, to say nothing of his own evil passions 
 and appetites, which all pull him out of the way. One 
 neighbour says to him, 'Take this road; it is almost as 
 straight as the other, and much pleasanter.' Another says, 
 * Take this road ; it is a short cut, and will save you a world 
 of trouble.' A third says, ' Walk part of the way with us 
 for company's sake ; you cannot be far wrong if you keep 
 with us ; at worst, it is only crossing back into your narrow 
 lonely path if you don't like our way after trying it.' A 
 fourth cries to him, ' What makes you so particular ? Do 
 you fancy you know the road to heaven better than any- 
 body else ? We are all going there, we hope, as well as 
 you, though we no not make such a fuss about it.' Is it a 
 wonder that, with so many bad advisers and bad examples 
 to turn him astray, with so many wrong paths to puzzle him, 
 with so many evil passions as man has naturally pulling him 
 out of the straight and narrow path is it a wonder, I say, 
 that, with all these things to lead them wrong, men should 
 so often go wrong ? It is no wonder ; nay, were it not that 
 God's Word is a lantern to our feet and a light to our path 
 were it not for the Spirit of God crying to us, ' This is 
 the right way,' when we turn aside to the right hand or to 
 the left we should all of us go wrong always."
 
 310 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 " If a man had to receive a legacy by going to Bristol, 
 what good would it do him to set out on his way thither 
 unless he went all the way? Would he get anything by 
 going as far as Melksham, or even as far as Bath, unless he 
 went still further? The legacy is to be paid at Bristol and 
 nowhere else ; and if the man is lazy or fickle enough to 
 stop before he gets to Bristol, not a sixpence of it will he 
 receive. Therefore we must persevere unto the journey's 
 end if we would have a share in Christ's great legacy." 
 
 " Has the increase of godliness amongst us kept pace 
 with the increase of our Bibles ? Are we as much better as 
 we ought to be with our more abundant means ? Has the 
 fresh seed scattered over the land produced a proportionate 
 increase in the harvest? These are very important ques- 
 tions. For if the Lord of the farm, if the great Sower does 
 not see the promise of a crop in some measure answering 
 to the good seed He has bestowed on the land, He will be 
 sure to ask, ' Why is this ? Did I not sow good seed in the 
 fields of England ? Then how come they to be so full of 
 tares, so full of thistles, so full of poppies ? How is it that 
 in some parts of the farm I even see the foxglove and the 
 deadly nightshade ? Useless weeds, gaudy weeds, weeds that 
 overrun the ground, even poisonous weeds, I see in it. But 
 I see not the plenty of good wheat which I ought to find, 
 and which alone can be stored in my barn. Why has the 
 crop failed so shamefully?'" 
 
 " How often do we see the sinner, perched on the dung- 
 hill of his vices, clapping his wings in self-applause, and 
 fancying himself a much grander creature than the poor 
 Christian, who all the while is soaring on high like a lark, 
 and mounting on his way to heaven?"
 
 HOME PORTRAITURE. 311 
 
 " The great plenty of Bibles and Testaments which God 
 has given us in this land makes us, I fear, more neglectful 
 than we ought to be of our Prayer-books, especially of that 
 part of the Prayer-book which contains the Epistles and 
 Gospels. Now this is just the same kind of mistake as if a 
 man, because he had turnips and potatoes in his fields, were 
 to neglect sowing any in his garden. The turnips and 
 potatoes raised in gardens are generally of a choicer kind. 
 So it is with the little portions of the Epistles and Gospels 
 which are selected to be read in the Communion Service. 
 They are like so many choice plants culled out of the New 
 Testament for some useful lesson of doctrine or practice." 
 
 " Do not think it enough if you learn to spell, and to 
 read, and to say the words of Scripture, but seek to leam 
 the truths of Scripture. Do as the bees do. A bee, when 
 it sees a flower, does not fly round and round it, and sip it, 
 and then off again, like the foolish, idle butterflies ; it settles 
 on the flower and sucks the honey out of it. So should 
 you when you come to one of the beautiful parables which 
 Jesus spake, or to one of the miracles which Jesus did ; 
 you should do as the bees do you should settle your 
 thoughts on what you read, and try to suck the honey out 
 of it. But why do I speak of the parables and miracles ? 
 Almost every verse of the New Testament has its honey. 
 Almost every verse contains a spiritual truth fit to nourish 
 some soul or other." 
 
 " You can no more see a Christian grow than you can 
 see the corn grow. But you can all see whether it has 
 Town by comparing it with what it was two months back. 
 So may you discover whether you have advanced in grace."
 
 312 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 " Everything which God has set apart in any way for his 
 own and put his mark on, everything which in any way be- 
 longs more particularly to Him His word, His ordinances, 
 His house, His people are things which God has cleansed, 
 therefore we must not call them common. He has set them 
 apart for his own service ; He has fenced them off, as it were, 
 from the waste of the world, and has enclosed them for His 
 own use. Hence there is the same sort of difference be- 
 tween them and all merely worldly and common things as 
 there is between a garden and Salisbury Plain. No one 
 who knows how to behave himself would bring a horse into 
 a garden, or walk over the strawberry beds, or trample down 
 the flowers. But in riding from here to Salisbury everybody 
 would feel himself at liberty, while crossing the downs, to 
 gallop over the turf at pleasure. Well, the same difference 
 which there is between common down and a cultivated 
 garden, the same is there also between worldly days, worldly 
 books, worldly names, worldly people, and God's day, God's 
 book, God's name, and God's people. The former are 
 common, and may be treated as such; the latter are not 
 common, because God has taken them to Himself, and 
 brought them within the limits of his sanctuary, and thrown 
 the safeguard of His holiness around them." 
 
 " Many of you can lift a sack of wheat, and can carry it 
 some little way. But think of being condemned to walk 
 from here to Devizes, or rather from here to Bath, with a 
 sack of wheat on your shoulders every day for a month 
 together. How soon would the stoutest man among you 
 break down under such a load ! He might contrive to 
 stagger on a little way, but his strength before long would 
 fail him, and if he did not drop his load it would crush him. 
 Now sin when a man is in his right senses, when he knows
 
 HOME PORTRAITURE. 313 
 
 whither he ought to be going is a weight on the soul, and 
 presses it down, just as a weight on the back presses down 
 the body." 
 
 " The religion of Jesus Christ is altogether a practical 
 thing. Just consider how we are taught anything else that 
 is practical. It is not by hearing or reading about making 
 shoes that a man becomes a shoemaker, but by trying to 
 make them." 
 
 " The means, the exercises appointed by our Saviour 
 whereby we are to become holy and godly, are His sacra- 
 ments, prayers public and private and the reading and 
 teaching of His holy word. Still the means are not the end ; 
 the road which leads to London is not London." 
 
 Nothing seems a more suitable close to this chapter of 
 general reminiscences of Augustus Hare's life at his beloved 
 Alton than the following note, written Feb. 19, 1832, by 
 one who was afterwards his sister-in-law, L. A. H. : 
 
 " I am just come up to bed, dearest Mia, and it comes 
 into my mind to copy for you first a passage I met with in 
 a sermon of Jeremy Taylor's. Every Sunday evening I 
 settle myself in a corner, with a book, trying to shut my 
 eyes to all without. Often comes a short digression, during 
 which I am fancying all you and the Aug. are doing. I 
 hear you sing the evening hymn, kneel with you to prayers, 
 end with praying God to bless you both, and then return 
 my attention to the book. This evening I met with the 
 following passage, and send it you privately, thinking that 
 you may perhaps find as good a likeness for it in somebody 
 living as in the worthy knight, Sir G. Dalstone :
 
 314 MEMORIALS OF A QL'IET LIFE. 
 
 " ' For God was pleased to invest him with a marvellous 
 sweet nature, which is certainly to be reckoned as one half 
 of the grace of God, because a good nature, being the relics 
 and remains of that shipwreck which Adam made, is the 
 proper and immediate disposition to holiness, as the corrup- 
 tion of Adam was to disobedience and peevish counsels. A 
 good nature will not upbraid the more imperfect person, 
 will not deride the ignorant, will not reproach the erring 
 man, will not smite sinners on the face, will not despise the 
 penitent. A good nature is apt to forgive injuries, to pity 
 the miserable, to rescue the oppressed, to make every one's 
 condition as tolerable as he can, and so would he ; for as when 
 good-nature is heightened by the grace of God, that which 
 was natural becomes now spiritual, so these actions which 
 were pleasing and useful to men, when they derive from a 
 new principle of grace, they become pleasant in the eyes of 
 God then obedience to the laws is Duty to God, Justice is 
 Righteousness, Bounty becomes Graciousness, and Alms is 
 Charity.' "
 
 VIII. 
 
 TAKING ROOT AT ALTON. 
 
 " The happiest periods of history are not those of which we 
 hear the most : in the same manner as in the little world of 
 man's soul, the most saintly spirits are often existing in those 
 who have never distinguished themselves as authors, or left 
 any memorial of themselves to be the theme of the world's 
 talk, but who have led an interior angelic life, having borne 
 their sweet blossoms unseen, like the young lily in a seques- 
 tered vale, on the banks of a limpid stream." Broad-stone of 
 Honour. 
 
 M. H. to C. S. 
 
 " j^LTON-BARNES, Oct. 15, 1829. Are you not im- 
 patient to hear of our first beginning ? We dined at 
 Woodhay at one o'clock, and left it immediately afterwards, 
 not without some regret after the many happy days we have 
 spent there. At half-past five we landed at our own door, 
 where Mary's smiling face was ready to greet us. You have 
 already, I dare say, anticipated what I am about to say that 
 we found ourselves less uncomfortable than we expected. The 
 carpets were laid down, the beds put up, though, to be sure, 
 there were neither bolsters nor pillows, and there was a 
 strong smell of paint ; but we took refuge in the drawing- 
 room, where it does not penetrate, and with the one table 
 and couple of chairs Miss Crowe left us, we managed very 
 well. These, with the piano, were our sole stock of fur- 
 niture till to-day, when the arrival of fourteen packages has
 
 316 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 given us a day's hard work in the bam, the result of which 
 is, that I am sitting in as comfortable a drawing-room as I 
 could wish to see or sit in. 
 
 " To-day has been beautiful, and before we began our 
 morning's work we took an exploring walk, and after wading 
 through a bed of mortar we did get to a dry walk up the 
 downs. Our great object is always where to find a place 
 tolerably dry for our walks, and our first errand to Devizes 
 has been to beg the shoemaker to come and measure us for 
 waterproof shoes. In spite, however, of its wet, Alton looks 
 very pretty the tints of the trees so rich, with the back- 
 ground of the hills and the creepers in front of the house 
 cluster in at the windows quite after my heart's desire. 
 There are many little reforms wanted in the way of making 
 bells ring and windows shut ; but we shall not do anything 
 beyond these needful things at present. Our gardener's 
 name is Gideon, and his dress a brown fur cap, a short drab 
 jacket, and blue plush breeches reaching half-way down his 
 legs. He and all the people here talk such a dialect I can 
 hardly understand them. I do so much enjoy the un- 
 interrupted quiet, and it seems as if, in fact, we were now for 
 the first time really married. How little difference much or 
 little money makes except in the scale of things in a small 
 house ; we are so much more amply supplied with common 
 comforts than many people are in large ones." 
 
 " Oct. 20. A week has done wonders. The bellhangers 
 have put in order all the bells and locks, chimney-sweepers 
 have done their work, and a carpenter has filled up the 
 holes and crevices in floors and wainscoting which let in so 
 much air. You are quite right in not wasting any com- 
 passion upon me ; in short, could you see me in the evening 
 reading Coleridge's ' Friend ' with Augustus, or playing to 
 amuse him, or watch us reading over some of his old letters, 
 you would not think we were much harassed by business.
 
 TAKING ROOT AT ALTON. 317 
 
 We have made some acquaintance in the parish; but the 
 cottages are so low that I fully expect every time that 
 Augustus will break his head against the beams. A school 
 is a matter of great difficulty. Not a person can we find 
 either here or in Great Alton, as they call Alton-Priors, 
 who seems fit to teach a school, and the way in which the 
 great girls last Sunday attempted merely a spelling-book 
 lesson was lamentable. However, they are all eager to 
 belong to ' Mrs. Hare's school,' and, I dare say, we shall 
 contrive something for them. On Sunday, as there is only 
 one church-service, it leaves a long time for them ; but the 
 boys even on that day are out ' shepherding.' 
 
 ' We never think or speak of the will, or anything con- 
 cerning it. We have such delightful days ; we go up ' Old 
 Adam ' daily, the view is so beautiful, the air so bracing. 
 We shall have ten times more pleasure in seeing things grow 
 before our eyes into comfort, than if we had found them so. 
 We are going to visit the Miss Hares at Millard's Hill, 
 and I already hear my own laments over leaving Alton." 
 
 " Millard's Hill, Noi*. 5. My school on Sunday mounted 
 up from three to twenty-three, and some very nice girls, and 
 all seeming very happy to be taught ; so I had them in the 
 afternoon in the usual church hours, and made the bigger girls 
 teach the little ones their letters. One of them is called 
 Charity Begood. I do not remember any other events 
 before I left our dear little home. I left Mary to super- 
 intend carpet-making and cleaning, &c., and also not to 
 shock the aunts with a notion of my being a fine lady. It 
 is a very pretty drive all the way here, about thirty miles, a 
 delightful house, capitally furnished and thoroughly com- 
 fortable. They were delighted to see us, and withal are so 
 kind-hearted and easy to talk to, that I do not dislike it as 
 I expected. Then they are charmed with me, because I 
 always like what gives least trouble. On Tuesday Aunt
 
 318 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 I 
 
 Marianne took me on horseback to Longleat, a magnificent 
 house and beautiful park. Yesterday we went in their 
 carriage to Frome, where, being a manufactory of cloth, I 
 wished to buy a winter coat; they directly insisted on 
 giving me one of the best cloth. In the evening they had a 
 party, and in order to induce two of the guests who sang well 
 to join, I sate down to the instrument, and was so nervous 
 I made shocking work ; however, they were quite satisfied 
 with my readiness. 
 
 "Alton, Nov. 12. You may guess how glad we were to 
 find ourselves back in our own little home, which looked 
 very comfortable. Every day something new arises wanting 
 repair or reform, and if we can weather the storm of all the 
 bills to be paid, we shall do wonders. I suppose we shall 
 manage it ; but it is a near calculation of comings-in and 
 goings-out. How rich we shall seem to be when we have 
 
 nothing but regular housekeeping going on The 
 
 days seem to fly so quick. The retirement of Stoke was 
 nothing to this, and the roads arc worse than ever. I 
 suppose we shall not be fit company for anybody when we 
 emerge into the world ; having no new book, no paper but a 
 country one, no link with the outer world but the Athenaum, 
 which, they say, will soon be given up, we shall become 
 quite rusticated. 
 
 " November 2 1 . It is always easier to talk to a person 
 when fresh from reading their letter, and so I will begin my 
 letter just when I have enjoyed yours. Many little things 
 which I meant to say escape me when there is an accumu- 
 lation of things to tell, and you will have full as much inter- 
 est in what I have to say in the sameness of our present life, 
 as when there were events to record. I suppose many 
 would find it dull ; to me it certainly seems less so than any 
 part of my life ever has been, the difference being that 
 instead of looking on and enduring the present in expecta-
 
 TAKING ROOT AT ALTON. 319 
 
 tion of what is to come, I regret every day as it goes by ; 
 but then of course all depends upon the nature of one's 
 companion. Now the activity of mind which Augustus has 
 prevents the stagnation which in us for instance constant 
 living together produces, so that there seems rather an 
 increasing stock for conversation than a lesser one, and he 
 is just as much excited and alive when there is nothing 
 exterior to furnish food for remark as in society. I believe 
 there is a book-club at Devizes, but we do not at all want 
 to have recourse to it, and I certainly prefer the having no 
 such temptation to idle reading at present. The reading a 
 little only of what is good, and that with great attention, is 
 particularly wholesome for me, whose habit has hitherto 
 been so much the contrary, and who from indolence have 
 got into so slovenly a way of understanding things. Our 
 evening's reading, you will be amused to hear, is sometimes 
 Cicero's Orations, in which I look over as he translates, and 
 shall get some idea of Latin. Coleridge's ' Friend ' is our 
 general book, however, which is hard to understand occa- 
 sionally, but I like it very much indeed. Then, if we are 
 not in a mood for such serious reading, Landor's Dialogues 
 come in, of which I have not heard half yet. Then I make 
 my objections, and he explains. There is some affectation 
 in Landor's style he leaves a good deal to the imagination 
 to supply and it requires some attention to find out the 
 extreme nicety with which, in all the little circumstances, he 
 keeps to the character of the age and speaker. But his 
 words and sentences are beautiful sometimes. When he 
 tells a thing, he keeps so much to what he says of Demos- 
 thenes, that he never dwells upon that which must occur to 
 the reader in consequence of what has already been said ; 
 and this gives great strength to his language, which, with 
 the delicacy of his touches of feeling, I can admire greatly. 
 In the morning one chapter in the New Testament with the
 
 320 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 Greek translated literally, and compared, one Gospel with 
 another, with references to commentaries, takes up some 
 time, which, with a walk, reading and talking over letters 
 lasts us generally till luncheon, and then there are always 
 orders to be given and workmen to be looked after. I 
 have many schemes of improvement in the flower-garden ; 
 and into the kitchen-garden I go with my head full of Mawe 
 ' Ought not the sea-kale to be covered up ? ' and I feel 
 much ashamed to be obliged to ask the names of spinach, 
 and endive, and celery, and to be told this is not the time 
 when such things can be had. We persevere in going up 
 the hill, a work really not of slight difficulty in these frosty 
 days when the ground is so very slippery, and every step 
 covers one's shoes with a galosh of mortar. Many new air- 
 holes for cold wind have been found out in the last few 
 days, and I think, like all small and old houses, we shall 
 find our rectory very cold. 
 
 " We have had several new visitors, and the consequential 
 manners of some of them prepared us doubly to appreciate 
 Colonel Montagu Wroughton and his brother Captain Mon- 
 tagu, who I only hope were as much pleased with us as we 
 were with them. 
 
 " December 5. At this moment Augustus is writing 
 about God's works having a middle a point of perfection ; 
 about Jesus Christ being the middle of the world, the tree of 
 life in the midst of the garden. He always puts off his 
 sermon till Saturday, that it may not take up more than its 
 day ; whereas, if he began on Monday, it would go on all 
 the week. He began his visiting of the sick a few evenings 
 ago, when he went out after dinner to read prayers by a 
 sick woman. He durst not tell me till he came back, 
 knowing I should scold, as he had only just recovered from 
 his cold; but he pleaded that this would have been no 
 reason against going out on the devil's work, and that he
 
 TAKING ROOT AT ALTON. 321 
 
 could not eat his dinner from hearing of her illness, and 
 thinking that he had not been to her." 
 
 In December Augustus Hare left his wife and parish for a 
 short time to visit his brother Julius at Cambridge, the great 
 object of his journey being that he might fulfil his aunt's 
 dying wish in persuading his brother to break off his 
 engagement to his cousin, Anna Maria Dashwood, which 
 she had strong reasons for disapproving. These reasons 
 Augustus affectionately and firmly urged to Julius, and 
 though he received his arguments with great indignation at 
 first, he was eventually convinced of their justice, and the 
 engagement was ultimately broken off, though Julius always 
 continued to be the most faithful and trusted friend of his 
 cousin. How bitter a sacrifice his renunciation of this 
 marriage was to him, is told by his letters written at this 
 time. On that very day he was preaching upon " The Law 
 of Self-Sacrifice," before the University. Here is the grand 
 concluding passage of the sermon : 
 
 " We have seen that through every order of beings, in 
 things inanimate and things animate, in the natural and in 
 the spiritual world, in earth and in heaven, the law of self- 
 sacrifice prevails. Everywhere the birth of the spiritual 
 requires the death of the carnal. Everywhere the husk 
 must drop away, in order that the germ may spring out of 
 it. Everywhere, according to our Lord's declaration, that 
 which would save its life loses it, and that which loses its 
 life preserves it. And the highest glory of the h ; ghest life 
 is to be offered up a living sacrifice to God for the sake of 
 our brethren. This is the principle of life, which circulates 
 through the universe, and whereby all things minister to 
 
 VOL. I. Y
 
 322 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 each other, the lowest to the highest, the highest to the 
 lowest. This is the golden chain of love, whereby the 
 whole creation is bound to the throne of the Creator." 
 
 M. H. to C. S. 
 
 "Alton, Dec. 14. Having just seen my Augustus into 
 a farmer's gig which is to take him to meet the coach 
 (a distance of four and a half miles, which they say will take 
 an hour and a half, so you may judge of the kind of roads), 
 I must find consolation in writing to you. He is to be 
 away ten days, going on from London to Cambridge to see 
 Julius, and to hear him preach his Commemoration Sermon. 
 My heart is full at parting with him, but I shall find plenty 
 to do, and be very comfortable whilst he is away, and am 
 very glad he should go. It is such a beautiful morning for 
 his drive, and will enable me to chase away every uncom- 
 fortable feeling at letting my tender bird out of its cage by 
 the clear air on Old Adam. 
 
 " I have had a good deal of talk with Augustus about his 
 ideas on Inspiration. His notion is that in all the mere 
 detail of facts, narrative of events, &c., there is not a verbal 
 inspiration; for instance, that it required no help of the 
 Spirit to give the names of David's thirty captains, nor does 
 it in the least signify whether one was left out or miscalled ; 
 that in everything that was of the slightest importance to 
 the conveying the knowledge of God his scheme respect- 
 ing men, precepts, doctrines there the Spirit dictated, and 
 as such we must receive it ; but the mere historical detail 
 he thinks cannot, with all its variations and inconsistencies, 
 be dwelt upon as every word inspired by God without 
 incurring the difficulties which this over-demand on people's 
 belief so often creates. In the Gospels, St. Matthew mentions 
 two blind men, St. Mark one ; this proves they were not 
 copied one from the other; but if verbal accuracy is required,
 
 TAKING ROOT AT ALTON. 
 
 3 2 3 
 
 as it must be if inspired verbally, here would be a difficulty. 
 In the Christian revelation more especially, which is in this 
 peculiarity distinguished from the Jewish, he thinks the 
 spirit and not the letter should be attended to throughout. 
 By prayer, by singleness of heart, he thinks that he who 
 does the Will will never fail to know of the Doctrine, and to 
 distinguish between what may be rested on with faith and 
 what may be deemed unimportant, but which being made 
 too prominent may become a stumbling-block. I have not 
 time to enter further into this argument, or into another we 
 had yesterday about the heathen philosophers how far the 
 truth was revealed to them indirectly through communica- 
 tion with the Jews, and how far the expression ' God has* 
 not left Himself without a witness ' may in a spiritual sense 
 refer to them how their theories, without a better founda- 
 tion, fell to atheism amongst the Romans, till religion rose 
 again with a reviving power in Christianity. 
 
 " In his sermon yesterday Augustus told a story about 
 fourteen children who were poisoned from eating herbs at 
 Luneville, in consequence of a great famine, and whose 
 funerals he himself saw in passing through and so on to 
 the Bread of Life. He brought in too my old woman at 
 Stoke, who learnt the prayers from hearing them at church. 
 The interest excited is great, and probably all the more 
 from the novelty." 
 
 M. H. to A. W. H. 
 
 "Alton, Dec. 14, 1829. One might suppose that nine or 
 ten hours at Alton would not afford much food for a letter, 
 yet I begin to feel already as if I had a great deal to talk 
 
 about. First, there were the letters Then, I set 
 
 forth on my walk. I had such a delightful ramble over the 
 Downs ; the sun shone so bright, and the air was clear and 
 reviving, and I pushed on till I turned a point of the hill,
 
 324 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 and there sprawling beneath me lay the great White Horse 
 in all its chalky glory. I would not go back ignominiously 
 when so far, so I went on, and soon planted my stick in 
 the White Horse's tail ! Far beneath in the hollow the 
 sheep were collected together, and the shepherd boy was 
 seated on his knoll of grass. What a time for meditation ! 
 no wonder the great poet of Israel was a shepherd, or rather, 
 to give the cause before the effect, vice versa. I dare say, 
 however, no very sublime thoughts are conceived on the 
 Wiltshire Downs, and I should fear the mind was as 
 inactive as the body in the boy I saw stationed on the hill 
 with that wide view all below him. For myself, I do enjoy 
 greatly the rambling about on those green hills, and, for- 
 getting that the sun was not always so bright, I began to 
 wonder that we had taken so little advantage of such good 
 turf and free air. About three o'clock Mary came in to 
 
 announce the arrival of the live stock from Woodhay 
 
 When I tell you that I have had a talk with Becky King 
 about the Sacrament. I believe I shall have completed the 
 history of this, my first day's solitude, in which I have not 
 had one moment to spare, and been as happy as I can be 
 without my own dearest husband. I feel so much difference 
 from the time when I was left at Woodhay. Here the 
 change from having you to having only my own thoughts 
 and books is far less striking, and I am never dull^ 
 though, dearest, the arm-chair looks very empty, and the 
 silence is not so pleasant as the sound of the voice one 
 loves." 
 
 "Dec. 1 6. Is it two whole days, dearest, since I 
 have talked with you, and nearly three since you went 
 away ? It has not seemed very long, and your Mia has- 
 been very happy in her solitude, and does not feel half as 
 desolate here as she used to do in that great house at 
 Woodhay ; but then a good honest Christmas fire is a much
 
 TAKING ROOT AT ALTON. 325 
 
 better companion than a make-believe summer one, with 
 winds and rain driving against the windows 
 
 " I have just had my second talk with Becky King, who 
 told me she used to think the latter part of the Catechism 
 was ' the biggest of nonsense,' but that now she knew better 
 what it meant. It seems your reading the latter part of the 
 Communion Address encouraged her to come and ask 
 questions, and it seems to have been thought by some, as 
 Mr. Crowe never read that part, that it was your putting in. 
 Poor woman ! she is beset with fears and doubts, and 
 had she fallen into the hands of Methodists would soon 
 have been in a state of despondency. She said nothing 
 had ever given her the comfort that reading her Bible had ; 
 and yet people ask, What good can teaching to read do ? 
 
 " By this time, I suppose, the object of your mission 
 is come to a point. Would 1 could see you for one 
 minute through a telescope as you are talking with Julius, 
 and guess at the result. The best I can hope for is, that if 
 you fail, as I fear you must do, he may succeed in con- 
 vincing you that his judgment is not so far wrong as you 
 have been disposed to think it is. At all events, I trust to 
 the sincere affection which prompts the one to censure and 
 the other to grieve over that censure, keeping your hearts 
 open to the kindly feeling which between such brothers 
 should prevail in the midst of disagreement. It is singular 
 how it has hitherto struggled through all the harshness of 
 opposition, and always succeeded in keeping uppermost 
 Let it still do so, and all will be well. God be with you, 
 and bless you, my own dearest. Good night ! " 
 
 A. w. H. to M. ll. 
 
 " Cambridge, Dec. 16. Julius has delivered his Com- 
 memoration Sermon manfully. It was on Self-sacrifice, show- 
 ing that throughout the universe, animate and inanimate,
 
 3-6 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 from God to the lowest living created thing, every good 
 thing that is done is done by self-sacrifice of some kind or 
 other. So instead of commemorating the departed, he 
 showed how alone things worthy of commemoration could 
 be accomplished ; and Bacon by his maxims, and Newton, 
 by his life (both members of Trinity), furnished him with 
 examples most appropriate to the subject and to the day. 
 The great feature of the beginning was an attack upon the 
 Paley doctrines, which debase virtue into a refined selfish- 
 ness. But as the sermon lasted an hour and a quarter, you 
 may conceive how impossible it is to give the darling Mia 
 even the slightest sketch of it. After service, we came back 
 to Julius's rooms, to be present at his distribution of the 
 college prizes for the year; and almost more than in the 
 sermon did I delight in the readiness with which he said 
 something kind and gratifying and appropriate to almost 
 every man as he came to him in succession." 
 
 M. H. to C. S. 
 
 " Dec. 20. I think I told you about Becky King, 
 who begged to talk to me about the Sacrament. She .said 
 she had often wished but never dared to come. She cer- 
 tainly affords an instance of God's Spirit working in her. 
 She seems to have met with np one likely to put such 
 thoughts into her head has no cant or display, but does 
 seem really to feel that she is sinful, and that she is un- 
 worthy to come before God. Sometimes she says she feels 
 as if she must be cast away, and then the words of the Bible 
 comfort her ' And if I do but say God help me, it seems 
 to do me good, ma'am.' She told so simply how much she 
 was taken up with cares about this world, and how to 
 struggle on with their poverty and pay their debts, and that 
 she could not help fretting about it, though she knew it was- 
 so wrong, that I really felt quite ashamed that she should
 
 TAKING ROOT AT ALTON. 337 
 
 see me sitting at my ease, with every luxury around me. I 
 hope to be some comfort to her, but it does strike one as 
 something like mockery to talk to such poor creatures 
 about being thankful for what is given them, and cer- 
 tainly they do need the hopes of something hereafter to 
 look on to. 
 
 " I am very busy writing a sermon to be ready for 
 Augustus's return. I don't know whether it will be of any 
 use to him, but it is partly done in his style, which is rather 
 that of plain talking than preaching. We have got a large 
 cargo of flannel and blankets from Frome to cut up, and we 
 shall give them the day after Christmas, which will be a 
 good way of knowing all the people. 
 
 "Dec. 22. Your account of seeing the railway takes 
 away my breath, and puts my head into a perfect whirl. 
 What will this all come to ? Some great change must take 
 place. I want, as you say, my companion to talk it all 
 over to. However, you are quite right that even great as 
 my privation is of not having him, there are independent 
 charms of being alone which we enjoy more than most. It 
 is such a pleasure having things done that I know will 
 please him or make him more comfortable. For instance, 
 I have moved the chairs and tables, till I have made more 
 space for my poor man to walk about. He is so patient, 
 that he never says a word about it, but I know he must 
 long to expel half the furniture that is in the way of his long 
 legs and walks. It is very good for him, however, to be a 
 little curtailed. He will lose the habit of jumping up and 
 twirling round, from the impossibility here of doing it with- 
 out knocking something over. I have always forgotten to 
 copy for your amusement some lines addressed to him, I 
 forget who by, but describing a Debating Society at Oxford, 
 of which he was a member. Here are those relating to 
 him :
 
 328 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 " And first thyself that planned the vast design, 
 And bade such powers of eloquence combine 
 Yes ! sure 'tis he ! 'tis Hare whose gamut voice 
 Bids treason flourish, Jacobins rejoice ; 
 Who tells in alt what ills our State disgrace, 
 And mumbles out corruption's fall in base. 
 'Tis he, whose restless hand, now out, now in, 
 Threats all around, or strokes his beardless chin ; 
 Each adverse speech he vows on conquest bent 
 ' To declamation without argument ; ' 
 Next well composed antitheses ensue 
 ' Naught true is novel, and naught novel true ;' 
 Till, as vast metaphors distend his breast, 
 He winds his period up, and chokes the rest." 
 
 I have been reading a little of Schleiermacher. Thirlwall's 
 preface, with the history of all the different theories, is quite 
 bewildering, and enough, I think, to turn any one disbe- 
 liever in the inspiration. Schleiermacher, I think, clearly 
 has a right feeling himself, and only wishes to account for 
 the discrepancies in the best way he can, believing in the 
 main points as divinely taught. But I suspect the effect on 
 most would be rather of creating doubt than of satisfying it. 
 Still there are many singular theories about how this story 
 must have originated in the telling of the Virgin Mary, and 
 that in the telling of the shepherds, &c., which do not at all 
 take away from the higli origin ; and the supposition that it 
 was originally written down in detached portions, occasioned 
 by the questions of the early converts, and afterwards col- 
 lected together, does not seem to me at all to take away 
 from its truth or spiritual inspiration, and accounts for the 
 want of connection. 
 
 " Yesterday evening I was actually obliged to go to bed 
 from the cold, having tried alternately whether the draught 
 from the door or window was the most bearable. One is 
 obliged to move one's position sometimes, so that an undue
 
 TAKING ROOT AT ALTON. 329 
 
 partiality of warmth may not be shown to one side. You 
 cannot think how beautiful Alton looks in the snow. Yes- 
 terday the sunset on the snow-hills was quite Alpine. But, 
 my poor Augustus I wonder how he will ever get home to- 
 day through the deep drifts, and shall be most glad to have 
 him safe here. 
 
 "Dec. 30. You will not be very glad of Augustus's 
 return, as it stops my pen so much. I do not know how it 
 happens, but when he is at home there seems no time for 
 anything. He brought his aunt's dog Brute home with him. 
 Can you fancy me with a little beast ? However, I shall 
 learn to talk to one soon I think. 
 
 " We had a great day on Saturday for giving away to all 
 the people, and so got all their names and histories, and 
 Augustus scolded the mothers whose daughters had ' misfor- 
 iuncs] and told them how, in the parish he came from, such 
 a thing was unheard of. On Christmas Day we had only 
 two communicants, besides my woman and ourselves. On 
 Sunday the Great Alton clergyman did not come on account 
 of the snow, and Augustus had to do the whole morning 
 service there, as well as the evening here. 
 
 "Jan. 6, 1830. Julius came on Monday, bringing our 
 young half-brother Gustavus with him, that he might read 
 with Augustus. A new person coming upon one's solitude 
 seems to let in so much new light. Then Julius is much 
 more communicative than Augustus, and more generally 
 conversable. But with all that mildness of demeanour and 
 character, I am surprised to hear him so vehement on 
 politics, &c. I think he will be obliged to end by living in 
 Germany, he is so much annoyed by the present system of 
 things in this country by the overpowering commercial 
 spirit which fills everything. He must have surprised a 
 fellow-traveller in the coach, who was rejoicing in the 
 present books for children, by saying that there was not one
 
 33 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 fit for them to read ; and had he gone on to express his 
 regret that the poor had no longer popular romances to 
 read, his companion would have wondered still more. He 
 does not conceal his dislike of people when he feels it, and is 
 not near as cautious as Augustus is. I hope he will preach 
 on Sunday. By-the-bye, Augustus preached my sermon last 
 Sunday, with a few alterations of his own, which did very 
 well. He says he never saw the people so attentive. It was 
 something like my copies of your drawings having a good 
 foundation, but imperfectly worked up, and wanting the 
 spirit and force of an original. 
 
 "Jan. 29. Pray tell Charlie that when his uncle was 
 five or six years old his great play at school was taking 
 Bergen-op-Zoom, the scene of action being Twyford church- 
 yard, and his fortifications composed of string from one 
 tombstone to another. Without any knowledge of geo- 
 graphy, he picked out the names he could hear of, so that 
 Malta and Copenhagen were side by side sometimes, and 
 all his leisure hours were spent in arranging plans for 
 assaults, and thinking over, as he grew older, what he read 
 
 in Thucydides, &c His trouble in teaching Gustavus is 
 
 .really repaid by the delight Demosthenes gives him. His 
 language and style is as plain and homely as that of 
 Cobbett, and his eloquence produced entirely by the force 
 of argument. Of course my studies have lain in this line 
 lately, one thing brings up another so ; and then I feel so 
 ignorant of all the general principles, as if there was so 
 much to be known and thought about that a poor weak 
 mind cannot embrace anything, and I wonder at the bigotry 
 of those who think their own opinions infallible. 
 
 " I begin almost to dread seeing you again, the happiness 
 will be so great. Julius has left us, having been much 
 shocked the day before by hearing of Niebuhr's death. 
 He laments him no less for the excellence of his private
 
 TAKING ROOT AT ALTON'. 331 
 
 character than for his literary attainments says the world 
 has a great loss in the latter, for his researches were so very 
 deep. Having a very nervous mind, it had preyed on 
 the troubles of the times, and worn him out quite in his 
 prime." 
 
 M. H. to A. W. H. (absent at Oxford). 
 
 " Feb. 9. The warm sun and mild air yesterday seemed 
 to be purposely made for your release from prison, and left 
 
 me no excuse for grumbling over your going away 
 
 As I went my way along the lane to-day, thinking how 
 I could do any good in the parish, I met one of Gideon's 
 children. ' Where have you been to, Mary?' ' To school 
 at Mrs. Patrick's, ma'am.' So in I stepped to Mrs. Patrick, 
 and found she had begun to take in a scholar or two. This 
 was just what I had before thought of, as you may remem- 
 ber, so I sat down and we had a good talk, the burden of 
 which on her part was that she wanted to get a few shillings, 
 and that she was able to teach reading, sewing, and writing ; 
 and on mine that I should be very glad to have somebody 
 in the parish who would teach the children, and that I 
 would talk to you about it when you came home ; in the. 
 meantime she must try to get what scholars she could. 
 She certainly seems fully able to undertake the office ; the 
 house is large enough for as many as she is likely to get 
 at present, and till something else turns up we cannot do 
 better than support her. I think when I have announced 
 the birth of your one hundred and first parishioner in the 
 cottages, you will know all the parish news I have heard in 
 the last twenty-four hours." 
 
 M. H. to C. S. 
 
 " Feb. ii. There are two things in your last letter I 
 thought of commenting on. One was what you say about
 
 33 2 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 our imperfect powers of mind. Certainly they do prove 
 the corruption and weakness of our intellectual nature, but 
 this I conceive to be a distinct thing from the moral cor- 
 ruption of which St. Paul speaks, except so far as they act 
 and react upon each other. With regard to religious truth 
 (I mean not unessential points, but a Christian faith), I 
 believe Augustus would say that it is the corruption of 
 the will that perverts the intellect some hidden undis- 
 covered cause perhaps ; but he holds that there is no person 
 perfectly sincere and honest in his search after truth, who 
 will not sooner or later be allowed to find it, and be helped 
 in his inquiry. But then to be unprejudiced and open to 
 conviction is just the point on which we all fail. Our 
 limited capacities, I think, would alone convince us of there 
 being a something far higher to which we shall one day 
 attain, and where all will be made clear which now seems 
 often so obscure. The striving of our nature after some- 
 thing better, and its reluctance to stand still, might be a 
 proof that the image of God in our souls has not wholly 
 been done away ; if it was, there could be no chord to be 
 struck, nothing to answer the call, to lay hold of the means 
 held out in darkness we must remain. I suspect that in 
 many the extreme to which the contrary doctrine is pushed 
 proceeds from a degree of jealousy lest sufficient 
 stress should not be laid upon Christ's doing all and 
 not part of our salvation ; and so (as I think Whately 
 somewhere observes) are doctrines, not necessarily de- 
 pendent on each other to their extreme point, made to 
 hang together for fear lest in loosening one both should 
 give way. 
 
 " People ought to marry, that by communion with another 
 mind they may look at themselves with other eyes. Now 
 the thing which I see more clearly than I used to do is, 
 how much the system of indulgence gives a false view of
 
 TAKING ROOT AT ALTON. 
 
 life, and tends to raise an expectation and wish of self- 
 gratification in everything, as well as making those occa- 
 sions when that is not possible appear in the light of great 
 trials and sacrifices. I am much struck with the effect 
 which a different system has had upon Augustus, and how 
 much more wholesome to his character the severity of early 
 discipline was, and the constant giving up of self. Some 
 bad consequences result from the fear produced reserve, 
 and in a less upright mind perhaps deceit ; but I begin to 
 think that in the days when subjection to elders was enforced, 
 and when less was done to promote the amusement and 
 gratification of children, more was done to form their 
 minds to a right view of themselves and others. It is well 
 that something of humiliation at finding my own notions 
 of duty lower than they should be arises out of mar- 
 riage, or what would become of me with such excessive 
 spoiling? 
 
 " To-day I have been on the Downs as far as the Beacon, 
 and am quite stiff with the hard work it was getting up the 
 hill through the deep mortar." 
 
 M. H. to Miss CLINTON. 
 
 "Feb. 27, 1830. Nothing can be more convenient than 
 a parish, no house of which is beyond a ten minutes' walk. 
 Then the power of knowing every individual in it, and of 
 ministering even with our small means to the comfort of 
 all, is a very great advantage. But there is scarcely a 
 grown-up person who can read, and I was not aware before 
 how much the want of this simple knowledge leads to a 
 general dulness of intellect, and how greatly it adds to 
 the difficulty of giving anything of religious instruction. 
 How is the mother of a family, who can never or rarely get 
 to church, and has no means of learning anything at home, 
 to know or care anything about any world but this ? I hope
 
 334 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 we may in time be able to do something towards enlighten- 
 ing their minds a little, but it is a work of great difficulty, and 
 I long for a missionary spirit to be able to speak the truth and 
 the whole truth to them with plainness and openness. The 
 first thing has been of course to begin with the children. 
 Those who are not advanced beyond A B and B A of 
 course get on very slowly, but we have now begun a little 
 village school. The people seem a good deal struck by 
 Augustus's sermons, which, being extremely plain, and at 
 the same time out of the common way, with illustrations 
 from their own sphere of life, have a greater effect than 
 many finer discourses. But how very hard it is to give 
 them the least notion of religion, except as one of forms and 
 outward acts. I am now visiting a sick woman, one of the 
 most respectable in the parish, who has attended church 
 better than her neighbours and brought up her family well 
 She is pleased to have me read to her, but beyond \hejewish 
 creed of a God that will reward and punish, and to whom 
 we must pray for help and protection, she seems to have as 
 little sense of her needing a mediator, or of all that she owes 
 to Him, as any heathen might have ; and to convince her that 
 the faults, for which she takes God's pardon as a matter of 
 course, are such as the Bible teaches us proceed from the 
 heart and must be repented of, I feel some trouble in making 
 her understand. Till I came here I was scarcely aware, 
 having only seen parishes which had long been civilised 
 and attended to, how much devolves upon the exertion and 
 attention of the Rectory in teaching the poor people ; and 
 the state of simplicity which one might expect, as you say, 
 from the distance from a high-road, having no town near, and 
 no public-house in the village, is far less than might be 
 hoped. The system of all the women and girls acting as 
 field-labourers //<?/////;/ and shepherding, &c. in itself 
 produces a rough and savage state of society."
 
 TAKING ROOT AT ALTON. 335 
 
 M. H. to C. S. (after a happy visit from the Stanleys 
 at AJton and an absence in London). 
 
 " Alton, June i, 1830. Here we are again at our own 
 quiet home, which, in the depth of shade and exceeding 
 freshness of foliage, looks more retired and more rural even 
 than when you saw it. You may fancy the pleasure it has 
 been to me to receive from Mrs. Reginald Heber a parcel 
 of the ' Life.' She seems to me to have done it so judici- 
 ously in making him his own biographer by his letters and 
 journals, and they bring him most vividly before one. 
 Wherever his mind comes forth, the sterling sense united 
 with the candour and liberality is very remarkable. I feel 
 one's loss of him renewed by having him thus brought home 
 to one's recollection. To be sure, how unlike he was to any 
 one else. I cannot read the book without tears. 
 
 " Augustus has been working hard at his own hay, going 
 out every half-hour to see what they were about, watching 
 the clouds with an anxiety worthy of any farmer, and 
 scolding because the cocks were not judiciously made, 
 to say nothing of moving half the grass when mown into 
 the next field to dry sooner, which answered completely. 
 Mary has worked in the hay all day, dressed me, brought 
 in dinner, milked the cow, and at seven o'clock there 
 she was in the hay again. When I saw her in the croft, 
 I laughed and said, 'You have had enough variety to-day.' 
 * Oh, yes,' she said, ' I feel as if I was at home.' Certainly, 
 whether a country gentleman's daughter is the thing for a 
 wife or not, a respectable farmer's daughter is the thing for a 
 servant." 
 
 M. H. to L. A. S. 
 
 "June 2, 1830. I daresay you have followed us to-day 
 in our walks and rides, and guessed LJW many recollec- 
 tions hive come across us of the beginning of our life
 
 536 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 together, of which this is the first anniversary. How 
 blessed this year has been to us both ! Who knows what 
 another may be. But we are, thank God, in better hand? 
 than our own, and our care for the future as for the 
 present must all be cast on Him. We were so glad to 
 be able to spend this day alone together, and at our 
 own dear little quiet home, which is so very green and 
 fresh ; the roses cluster in at the windows, and it looks 
 so very retired and comfortable, that I long for you to 
 see it in its summer dress. 
 
 "Augustus has established a second service on a Sun- 
 day, which was never before known ; and it has been re- 
 ceived thankfully, as also his attempts to teach these poor 
 ignorant people something about the Sacrament, which 
 has been entirely neglected. He had quite a little congre- 
 gation last week on those evenings in which, after a prayer 
 he made for the occasion, he talked and explained to 
 them for above an hour, and they seemed greatly pleased. 
 If we can do something how thankful we shall be, 
 but it must take a long time before any great change 
 can be made ; and when the novelty of having a pastor 
 ivho cares about their souls is a little gone by, we must 
 expect to have many discouragements .... 
 
 ' How it unites the interests of rich and poor when the one 
 is enabled to contribute so essentially to the welfare of the 
 other, and when they can join together in one great feeling. 
 I am sure they are wonderfully sensible of, and grateful for, 
 one's taking an interest about their spiritual concerns as 
 much as for their temporal, and it quite saddens one to 
 think that such a weight of responsibility as attaches to the 
 clergy should be so often misused and slighted. Pray 
 for us that we may be enabled to persevere, that God 
 may bless our weak attempts to lead others into that service 
 of perfect freedom, and that He may strengthen our own
 
 TAKING ROOT AT ALTON. 337 
 
 faith, that whilst teaching others we also may be advancing 
 in his love and knowledge of the truth, and that we may 
 give all the praise to Him. This last especially I would 
 say must never be out of our minds, for our poor weak 
 nature is so ready to take all the glory to itself. 
 
 ". . . . I am often tempted to wish there was not another 
 religious book in the world except the Bible, and then 
 there would I believe be far less difference of opinion and 
 more simplicity of feeling. Were Christ himself the model 
 of life and his precepts the standard of opinion, many who 
 are by the errors and ill judgment of even his faithful fol- 
 lowers led astray, would be filled more with that spirit of 
 love and peace which marks his character." 
 
 M. H. to C. S. 
 
 " Alton, July 8. The aunts are just gone and oh ! on 
 Monday next down go the partition walls of the drawing- 
 room, and lo ! our beautiful new room twenty-three feet in 
 length ! No sooner was the suggestion made of such an im- 
 provement being practicable, and the probable execution 
 talked of for a future time, than each sister looked at the 
 other ' I see what you are thinking of, Marianne, and the 
 same thing struck me. 1 And then came that it was a great 
 pity to delay such an increase of comfort, and that they 
 should have real pleasure in giving it to us. Nothing 
 could be done more kindly and handsomely. It was a 
 beautiful day for their arrival, and all looked to advantage. 
 They expressed satisfaction in everything, found no faults, 
 and I did not ask opinions on things I did not intend to 
 follow, and did upon points where I could. The village 
 was well astonished by the great ladies and their four 
 horses. 
 
 " We aic going to Stoke in a fortnight. ... I am sure it is 
 necessary and wholesome to mix in the world sometimes to 
 
 VOL. i. z
 
 338 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 prevent one's notions becoming narrow and bigoted, as they 
 will do if one never associates except with those who think 
 with one's self. But certainly the truest enjoyment must 
 always be in one's own dear home, striving to help those 
 around us, regretting only how weak and inefficient are the 
 
 human means of benefiting them I do not know 
 
 if I have ever told you what my study is now Greek. 
 I read a few verses each day in my Testament, and 
 get on pretty well, my master tells me, and it is such a 
 delight to me. 
 
 " Stoke Rectory, July 24, 1830. I can hardly believe that 
 I am not Maria Leycester again ; in other respects Stoke 
 is' Stoke its own green, beautiful, summer dress on. The 
 flowers are even better than usual, the Hawkestone and 
 Kenstone range looks strangely wooded and rich, and the 
 bookroom is certainly grown half as big again at least. 
 You would have laughed to see Augustus immediately 
 measuring length and breadth, looking directly, at the 
 cornices, and yesterday our first walk after breakfast was to 
 dairy, larder, pig-styes, &c.; in short, I find myself observing 
 on various things I passed over so entirely when I lived here, 
 considering whether the pasture was good in the field, see- 
 ing all the weeds in the garden, &c. 
 
 " We had a delightful journey, and no adventures. Seeing 
 the little schoolgirls in the lane first upset me. But I behaved 
 very well on getting here only felt my heart jump into my 
 mouth. My father was at the door. Augustus was as 
 happy and proud in bringing me back as I was to get 
 here. Of course we had a great peal of bells on our 
 arrival, and next day, which is quite a new and grand 
 sound to us. 
 
 ' Stoke, Sept. 26. The terrible news of the railway acci- 
 dent and Mr. Huskisson's death quite occupies us. 
 Augustus and I have been making out from the newspapers
 
 TAKING ROOT AT ALTON. 339 
 
 how many variations there are in the accounts of the story, 
 as told professedly by those who were on the spot ; and 
 had he to preach in the neighbourhood at this time, he says 
 he should certainly make use of them as an instance how- 
 absurd it would be some years hence to doubt the truth oC 
 the way in which Mr. Huskisson was killed because one 
 eye-witness calls it the right, and another the left leg that 
 was injured because one says he fell on his face, knocked 
 down by the door, and another that his foot slipped, &c. ; 
 and how similar are the doubts raised of the truth of the 
 Gospels by the variations of the evangelist story." 
 
 A. W. H. to a CLERICAL FRIEND. 
 
 " Sept., 1830. .... You may remember you said to 
 me, as I was getting into the carriage to leave your 
 house, that you hoped I did not think the worse of you for 
 the discussions we had had together. Now I will not pay 
 your penetration so bad a compliment as to suppose it 
 possible you should not have perceived how greatly I 
 admire many things about you your care of the parish, 
 your love of natural science, your activity, your unremitting 
 endeavours to improve the condition of the poor around 
 you. Heartily do I wish that I resembled and equalled you 
 in these respects. All I deplore is, that with so much 
 energy of character, and such a love of truth, you should be 
 content to remain, on many points, halting between two 
 opinions ; and that you should suffer your peace to be dis- 
 turbed and your days embittered by questions which, if you 
 would only grapple with them stead ilv, would many of 
 them, I am convinced, turn out to be little more than 
 phantoms. I do not deny that there may be many diffi- 
 culties in the narratives we have so often discussed together , 
 but, in the eyes of a Christian, they kick the beam when 
 weighed against the positive evidence afforded us in the life
 
 34 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 and character of Jesus. ... I am disposed to say to any 
 Christian who vexes himself about such questions as that of 
 Jonah and his fish, for instance, ' What matters it, whether 
 the story be literal or allegorical, so long as we believe in 
 Jesus and his tomb, and know that He rose from it triumph- 
 antly?' The darkest passages in the Old Testament are 
 illuminated by that event with a reflected light, which shows 
 them to be either true or unimportant. 
 
 " Apropos of light, a fancy occurred to me the other day, 
 which, if you would mature and execute it, would show, I 
 think, more clearly than any words can do, how small a 
 part the difficulties are compared with the whole scheme ; 
 and, at any rate, how small is the shade they cast on the 
 great surrounding objects. That they are nuisances in 
 themselves I can readily conceive, but then it is simply as 
 being negations ; they are but minus quantities, and can no 
 more affect or obscure the glorious truth, with which they 
 are found in juxtaposition, than a thousand thistles in a 
 park can conceal or out-top the oak in it. Over those 
 thistles, be they as high and prickly as they may, the oak 
 will still be seen conspicuously ; and it will still afford its 
 giant shelter to all who can force their way through the 
 briars and nettles up to it. And, after all, the Bible abounds 
 in oaks, and has not half so many thistles in it as I have 
 cut down at Hurstmonceaux. My fancy, however, is this, to 
 draw a sort of map of the whole. The Old and New Testa- 
 ments might be the two worlds, the different books would 
 be so many provinces, the chief events would be like great 
 cities, the difficulties would be deserts, marshes, &c. In 
 short, not to allegorise too much, it would be easy, I think, 
 i-o colour this plan or map with various colours, from white 
 to biacK, marking the different shades and gradations of 
 belie!' as you feel them to exist in your own mind, from the 
 iiignest intensity of persuasion and conviction to the
 
 TAKING ROOT AT ALTON. 341 
 
 shadows, clouds, and darkness if it ever amount to dark- 
 ness of any degree of doubt you may be conscious of. 
 Might not such a synopsis as this have the advantage of 
 making you fed more strongly than you at present seem to 
 do how small a proportion your serious difficulties bear to 
 the many great points on which your mind is quite at rest. 
 It is painful to see an anxiety r.bout small matters hanging 
 like a clog about your mind, ever flapping against it and 
 distracting its exertions, and retarding its progress towards 
 perfection. He who is ever laying the foundation afresh 
 will never finish the building. He who has not the founda- 
 tion laid sufficiently by the beginning of autumn has little 
 time to lose, if he means to have his house comfortable by 
 Christmas. Your house is not comfortable. Would you 
 could bring yourself to devote your energies to the making 
 it comfortable, with a determination of persevering till the 
 work is done. A few months, nay, a year or two, would 
 be well employed in an occupation the certain issue ami 
 reward of which are peace. 
 
 " I need hardly say that this applies with equal force to 
 your misgivings about some of the Calvinistic tenets. In 
 my opinion, the Arminian who relies on Divine grace, the 
 moderate Calvinist who insists on holiness and refrains 
 from preaching retribution, and the man who dismisses 
 the controversy from his thoughts as too high for his learn- 
 ing and abilities, when brought within these wholesome 
 limits, as being partially unimportant all these men, I 
 conceive, may meet together in one Church, as in a common 
 field, in which each has an equal right to till. ..." 
 
 M. H. to C. S. 
 
 " Alton, Oct. 26, 1830. You may guess the joy with 
 which we found ourselves at home again, and we have had 
 such greetings from all the people Yesterday 1
 
 242 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 mounted Jack again for the first time, Augustus walked by 
 my side, and we enjoyed much going along that beautiful 
 terrace you remember on the Downs, and coming back 
 through the pretty lanes where the bluebells were. Nothing 
 can be more perfect than our present life. The third 
 Sunday we were away, Mr. Bleeck had service at Great 
 Alton church in the morning. In the evening Mr. Peck, 
 as usual, had service in our church. When he came out, 
 the clerk stepped up to him ' That was a very good ser- 
 mon, sir, you gave us ; to be sure, we heard every word of 
 it this morning from Mr. Bleeck ; but we shall remember it 
 all the better.' Was it not singular ? 
 
 "Oct. 27. We have had nothing but doctoring in the 
 parish. The fever reached the house at the end of our lane, 
 and on Sunday night a little girl, one of my best scholars, 
 died of it. Her father lay dangerously ill and another child 
 also. Having just heard of how malignant a nature it was 
 from the doctor, you may guess whether it did not require a 
 little faith to see Augustus go into the infected house to 
 read prayers to the sick man without much anxiety. How- 
 ever, here was a case of duty, and after making him take 
 every precaution, I was quite calm in his doing it, and all 
 the things he ordered were very necessary to prevent worse 
 consequences. The man is now, I hope, getting better; 
 but they have it in another house next to Gideon's, and 
 yesterday, as Augustus was passing in the afternoon, he 
 happened to speak to the woman, saw she was crying, and, 
 on inquiry, found that the girl who was so much better in 
 the morning, was, they thought, dy'ing. He came home for 
 some brandy, and ran back with it in spite of the rain, and 
 waited till the child had taken some, and by means of that 
 and rubbing mustard on the throat begun to revive; and 
 to-day she is alive and certainly better. But it seems like a 
 sort of miniature plague, attacking people so suddenly
 
 TAKING ROOT AT ALTON. 343 
 
 with swelling in the limbs, &c. Two more in the same 
 house now have it. There is such a making of broth and 
 gruel. The barn does very well with the laundry stove in 
 it, and makes an excellent room for school, and Augustus 
 means to lecture there one evening in the week."
 
 IX. 
 
 JOURNALS "THE GREFN BOOK." 
 
 41 Love, lift me upon thy golden wings 
 From this base world unto thy heaven's hight, 
 Where I may see those admirable things, 
 Which there thou workest by thy soveraine might, 
 Farre above feeble reach of earthly sight, 
 That I thereof a heavenly hymne may sing 
 Unto the God of love, high heaven's King." 
 
 E. SPENSER, 1553 98. 
 M. PL's JOURNAL. 
 
 " ALTON-BARNES,Nw. 22, 1829, Sunday. My thirty- 
 first birthday ! my firet married one ! God be praised 
 for the happiness that attends it. Others have been accom- 
 panied by hopes, and plans, and expectations for the future ; 
 this presents the realisation of all, and more than all I have 
 ever dared to hope. I no longer look on to what is in 
 store; .rather I dwell upon the present enjoyment, and 
 tremble lest another year should bring with it any change. 
 My heart is often full to overflowing when I think of the 
 many fond dreams I cherished of the days to come, and feel 
 now how they have all so fully come to pass. It was in our 
 own little church I this day knelt and prayed, and it was 
 my husband's voice to which I listened, and with him have 
 I this evening read the Psalms and Lessons to our little 
 household, and so joined together in the sacred services of 
 the day. How long has this been an object of my wishes,
 
 JOURNALS "THE GREEN BOOK." 345 
 
 to unite with the partner of my heart and life in such duties. 
 In his tender affection, and in the perfect confidence which 
 exists between us, there is a charm thrown over our daily 
 life which certainly equals, and I think exceeds, what I had 
 fancied would be the case ; and such is the fear and trem- 
 bling with which its duration is thought of, that I am 
 anxious to record something of these happy days as they 
 pass, which may hereafter recall them to the recollection 
 more vividly than memory unassisted could do. I can 
 breathe no prayer for the present, but that a sense or 
 our utter dependence on God may never leave me, and that 
 He will in his mercy strengthen my faith and resign me to 
 His will ; that whatsoever that will may require from me, be 
 it in suffering or be it in joy, my comfort as well as my 
 thankfulness may rest solely on Him. 
 
 " I begin a new life, with new duties, new responsibilities, 
 and I heartily pray that I may fulfil them in that Christian 
 spirit which may in some measure atone for the imperfection 
 in their performance ; and that he whom I so dearly love 
 may together with me grow daily in the knowledge of the 
 truth and in the love of God, may He of his goodness grant 
 by the assistance of his Spirit. I feel myself sadly wanting 
 in submission, often failing in thankfulness, wayward in the 
 midst of blessings, ruffled by the merest trifles ; the pride 
 and self-will in my heart are continually struggling against 
 my better feelings, but they will, I trust, not always gain 
 the victory, and when no higher motives have influence, the 
 strength of earthly affection will do much. Why do not we 
 fear to grieve Him, from whom we receive all, as much as 
 we do to cause one painful feeling to our nearest earthly 
 friend ? My own Augustus ! I must not love you too much, 
 or God in his wisdom will recall my wandering affections 
 to Heaven, by taking from me that which makes Earth 
 Heaven.
 
 346 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 " Nov. 29. Augustus read in the morning service to-day 
 Doddridge's paraphrase on the ist of St. John, which wants 
 only simplifying in the words to make it intelligible to the 
 ignorant. Sunday is always a day of rejoicing with me, and 
 I love my dear Augustus more than usual when he has been 
 exerting himself for the good of his people. 
 
 " Dec. i. A letter with the account of Mrs. A 's death 
 
 affected me a good deal. So young a person taken away 
 in the bloom of happiness is always an awful thing ; but 
 here her having so long desired the very event whidi 
 has closed her earthly course is a striking lesson, and I 
 feel that I ought to benefit by it. How wrong it 
 shows it to be longing after that, the consequence of 
 which we can so little foresee. To God we must commit 
 ourselves entirely, and not dare wish for that which he 
 withholds. 
 
 " Dec. 2. With what a characteristic dispute about great- 
 ness does the iSth of Matthew open. This is the constant 
 struggle now as then, and the simplicity and humbleness of 
 a child are as little to be met with in these days of know- 
 ledge and learning as in those of ignorance and poverty. 
 'By their angels in Heaven,' sounds to me very strongly 
 as if there were appropriate spirits to minister to each 
 faithful Christian. Augustus has been reading Coleridge 
 this evening. Nothing can be more delightful than his 
 style when not involved in obscurity ; I certainly prefer it 
 to Landor. 
 
 " Augustus told me a curious story of Mr. Pitt being 
 waked out of a sound sleep by Mr. Windham and others, 
 and told that the mutineers had seized Admiral Colpoice. 
 He rose up in bed, asked for pen and paper, and having 
 written ' If Admiral C. is not released, fire upon the ship 
 from the batteries till she is destroyed,' gave it to Mr. 
 Windham, lay down, and was snoring before they got out of
 
 JOURNALS "THE GREEN BOOK." 347 
 
 the room. Lord Spencer was one of the party, and told 
 Lady Jones. 
 
 "Dec. 13. We have had a long talk -about the 
 heathen philosophers. Augustus thinks it is to the crumbs 
 of truth they picked up that the verse ' God has not left 
 himself without a witness ' may be spiritually applied that 
 they might from the Hebrew poetry and prophecies gain 
 some light. Coleridge's opinion is that they had themselves 
 a providential, though not a miraculous, dispensation to 
 raise their intellect above the sensible world to spiritualise 
 their ideas. How inefficient this was, is proved by the fall 
 of their theories into epicurism amongst the Romans. The 
 Stoics were austere moralists, the falseness of whose system 
 was soon detected, and consequently rejected by those who 
 liked to live for pleasure ; and, just when the religion of the 
 Jews had become corrupt, and the philosophy of the 
 heathens sunk into Atheism, Christianity rose with reviving 
 force. At no other time could it have been spread so 
 rapidly or extensively as when all countries in the civilised 
 world were subject to one power, and connected with one 
 another through this medium. The Reformation was a 
 resurrection of Christianity, which was repeated in England 
 after the French Revolution by the Methodists. 
 
 " Christinas Day, 1829. This blessed day is the first 
 since we have been so blessed by the gift of each other. 
 How my heart swelled within me on receiving the cup of 
 olessing from my husband's hands at the altar of our own 
 little church, where he read with so much feeling and 
 earnestness those beautiful words of comfort, encourage- 
 ment, and prayer. I never felt them come so much home 
 to my feelings ; and imperfect and cold as my best attempts 
 are to realise to myself the presence of Christ, I trust that 
 these will be accepted, and that God will grant to me a 
 daily increasing knowledge of, and love for, my blessed
 
 340 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 Saviour. That we may assist and help each other in 
 the love of spiritual things, is my earnest desire and 
 prayer; and never do I feel more thankful for my 
 present happy life than when we unite in these feelings 
 and wishes. It was a thorough Christmas Day. The 
 sun shone bright upon a Lapland snow, and there was 
 a wholesome clearness in the air, invigorating to mind and 
 body. 
 
 "Dec. 31. We have reached the end of this happy, 
 blessed year, 1829. It has given to each of us, I believe, 
 that which is more precious than any other gift of God, and 
 not one anticipation of the happiness attending our union 
 has been in vain. Seven months have we now been one, 
 and not one cloud has come between us ; each day seems 
 only to draw us more closely together, and to unite our 
 thoughts and feelings more intimately. Let this conviction 
 produce in our hearts true thankfulness to Our Father who 
 has given such earthly happiness, and make us watchful lest 
 it grow into a too engrossing feeling, excluding that higher 
 love to which it should be subject. 
 
 "Jan. i, 1830. The new year begins most brightly 
 and happily, but I scarcely like to look on to its events ; 
 for when the present is so blest, one cannot but fear the 
 changes which may be wrought. But my trust must not 
 fail, for God can give us strength to bear. May He lead us 
 daily and yearly nearer and nearer to himself, that our cold 
 hearts may glow with more love of heavenly things, and be 
 weaned from dependence on anything earthly. May I per- 
 form the new duties which are opened to me with the 
 humility of a little child, conscious of my own unworthi- 
 ness, and seeking earnestly for help in all my struggles after 
 holiness. 
 
 "Jan. 10. Julius is here, and reads to us in the 
 evenings. He enjoys a story with all the simplicity of a
 
 JOURNALS "THE GREEN BOOK." 349 
 
 child. In church, his reading of the lessons and prayers 
 was most solemn and devotional, but in the sermon his 
 tone rather wants variety and energy. Nothing could be 
 better and plainer than the words of his sermon, and the 
 thoughts were beautiful I particularly liked his allusion to 
 our love of tracing things from their beginnings, &c., and 
 the showing how knowledge is not the one thing needful 
 how much we need a Redeemer, &c. I think, however, for 
 the audience he spoke to, that little would be understood of 
 the natural longing after good ; and the classical allusions 
 rather proceeded from the scholar than the parish-priest. I 
 long for him to be thrown more into the world, that, by 
 mixing with different classes of society, his theories may 
 become less visionary. 
 
 " Jan. 1 8. It grieves me to have to part with Julius just 
 as we were becoming more intimate, but the moment of 
 parting calls forth the real feeling, and his farewell speech 
 of how happy it made him to have a real sister was a great 
 delight. 
 
 " Jan. 28. When I come to study any subject it always 
 appears to branch off into so many channels, and there 
 arise before me so many points on which I am ignorant, 
 that, instead of keeping steadily to one, my mind is apt to 
 glance off to all the various means before me gleaning, 
 perhaps, a little from each, but not making any completely 
 my own. To be sure, the more one knows the more one 
 must sink before one's self in consciousness of utter ignorance, 
 and before the overwhelming force of all the materials for 
 human knowledge, spread out in all ages, and so little made 
 use of as they should be. 
 
 "I am interested in reading connectedly the Mosaic history 
 how constantly and immediately God presided over the 
 Israelites how entirely their laws were adapted to every 
 particular occasion, not general in principle how strongly
 
 350 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 the necessity of atoning for sin is shown forth in the sacri- 
 ficial ordinances. 
 
 " Feb. ii. If substance means literally what is beneath, to 
 under-stand a thing must be to find out that substance to 
 penetrate below the surface to what lies under. If nobody pro- 
 fessed to understand a thing who had not thus stood under 
 it, and seen its deeper and hidden parts, how much error 
 and confusion would be saved ! How equally does God 
 proportion things, that where outer trials are wanting, inner 
 ones are created by the perversity of our own hearts. The 
 system of indulgence under which I have always lived 
 makes anything less of ease and comfort seem a hardship 
 which requires compassion; and I find that while great 
 sacrifices, by calling out a degree of admiration, are a means 
 of fostering our self-love, little ones which often do not cost 
 us less are more salutary, because they pass unnoticed. I 
 grievously need a more humble and submissive faith a 
 more perfect trust in the Divine will. If this were, indeed, 
 attained, all would be peace, and it is the weakness of our 
 faith which leads us to murmur, to grieve, or to be anxious. 
 I have much, very much to learn. God grant me grace to 
 learn of Christ to gain more of the spirit of child-like meek- 
 ness and more resignation to his will. 
 
 " June 2, 1830. This happy day has come again, telling 
 how a long year of happiness has been granted to us. AVe 
 have lived over again in memory every hour as it passed of 
 that eventful day, and rejoiced in feeling how much nearer 
 and closer is the tie that binds us than it was even then ; 
 and I more especially enjoy the remembrance of that which 
 first secured to us our present comfort whilst it is undis- 
 turbed by all the painful and agitating feelings of the last 
 2nd of June. How can we be grateful enough for so much 
 of earthly blessing ; and yet how often am I half disposed 
 to murmur, or at least grieve, that others are not added, of
 
 JOURNALS "THE GREEN BOOK." 351 
 
 which I know not if they would contribute to my happiness. 
 God knows what is best, and in His hands I can mostly rest 
 my hopes, though the flesh is weak, and will sometimes 
 presume to wish for itself. . . . 
 
 Oct. 23, 1830. I have been many weeks away with my 
 own family. How dearly I love them, and yet I cannot 
 help feeling now how little they are in comparison with this 
 one, and how much happier my life is now in my own home, 
 with its duties and interests, than the less active one I 
 formerly led. When I was at Stoke, I felt how little I had 
 ever done there, and how much more I should now like to 
 do. The last year has brought with it so much more of 
 apparent responsibility that I am aware of a much stronger 
 feeling of the necessity of exertion than I formerly had. 
 Yet even now how far does it fall short of all which I ought 
 or even wish to do. Some idle excuse, some vain scruple, 
 some foolish pretence rises up at every turn to divert one 
 from the right path of making the consideration of others 
 always supersede that of self. God be praised that we are 
 returned safe to our dear home, and may He assist our 
 weak efforts and fill our wavering hearts with good desires, 
 that so we may go on increasing in knowledge of His Truth, 
 showing it forth in our own lives, and making it known to 
 all around us.* 
 
 * The Journal called " The Green Book " was continued through 
 my mother's whole life. Extracts from it will from this time be occa- 
 bionally inserted at the dales where they occur.
 
 X 
 
 WILTSHIRE RIOTS AND VILLAGE DUTIES. 
 
 " What an union for two believers is a Christian marriage 
 to have one hope, one desire, one course of life, one service 
 of God in common the one with the other ! Both, like brother 
 and sister, undivided in heart and flesh, or rather really two in 
 one flesh, fall down together on their knees, they pray and fast 
 together, they teach, they exhort, they bear one another 
 mutually ; they are together in the church of God, and in the 
 Supper of the Lord ; they share with one another their griev- 
 ances, their persecutions, and their joys ; neither hides any- 
 thing from the other, neither avoids the other ; the sick are 
 visited by them with pleasure, and the needy supported ; 
 psalms and hymns resound between them, and they mutually 
 strive who shall best praise their God. Christ is delighted to 
 see and hear things like these ; He sends His peace on such 
 as these ; where two are, there is He, and where He is, evil 
 comes not." TERTULLIAN. 
 
 A. W. H. to C. S. 
 
 2 4' I ^3 0> For f ear >' ou should be alarmed by- 
 cross-country accounts in the newspapers, I write a 
 few lines to say we are all safe, after one of the most 
 painful days I ever went through. 
 
 "About two o'clock we were summoned by two half- 
 drunken men who professed to be sent on. They came to 
 the door, and asked for money, 'any trifle,' announcing that 
 two hundred were coming at their heels. After failing of 
 their errand, they went down to Pile's house, opposite us, 
 whither I followed them. He was gone to Marlborough,
 
 WILTSHIRE RIOTS AND VILLAGE DUTIES. 353 
 
 and there were none but women in the house. As the only 
 chance, I had the church-bell rung, but none of the labourers 
 came ; perhaps they were , too far off, and did not hear. 
 About ten minutes after the troop arrived. The machine 
 had been taken to pieces, but that did not satisfy them; 
 they must break it. And breaking it they were, when Pile 
 on horseback clashed in among them, and fired. They 
 would have dispersed, perhaps, in a fright, but in a place 
 where they could close with him, his gun went off a second 
 time. They dragged him down, and have nearly killed 
 him. They then burst into the house, and broke everything 
 to pieces, and for some time I expected they would serve 
 us in the same way ; so irritated were they, and so mad 
 with drink. Indeed, they talked of coming back to-night, 
 and burning down all his ricks and barns. But the news 
 had reached Devizes even before I could send a messenger. 
 The Yeomanry were here by six, and I have just heard that 
 they have surprised several of the rioters in the public-house 
 at Woodborough. On the Marlborough side ten men were 
 taken to-day ; and a regiment of Lancers were to be there 
 by eight o'clock to-night. So we feel safe again. Maria 
 behaved perfectly, as she always does, thinking of everything 
 that was wanted, and taking every kind and proper step 
 towards her poor afflicted neighbours. I had no idea the 
 English peasantry were such cowards as the men to-day on 
 both sides proved themselves. We hear Woodhay has been 
 ransacked. The fires on Saturday and Sunday were 
 dreadful." 
 
 M. H. to C. S. 
 
 "Alton, Nov. 25. We have had no further alarm beyond 
 the many reports, of which, if we believed one half, one 
 could not have much rest. However, at Pewsey there has 
 been a meeting. Col. Wroughton says the people are 
 
 VOL. 1. A A
 
 354 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 satisfied, and there will be one at Devizes to-day. Troops 
 are at Marlborough and Devizes. We have our own special 
 constables, patrols, and fire-engine, and I trust are in a 
 better state of preparation than we were. Poor Mr. Pile is 
 not out of danger, I fear, though I hope he will do well. A 
 large fire-ball was found in his field the morning after the 
 attack. We hear of five great fires over the hills towards 
 Calne, and at Salisbury dreadful work is going on. Our 
 ringleaders are chiefly taken, and we had the pleasure of 
 seeing some of them go past with the cavalry yesterday 
 morning. All the villages round us seem to have contributed 
 their share of men ; and I fear there are some very bad ones 
 amongst them. Our village had not one, and only two 
 were from Great Alton, but of course they all rejoice 
 secretly at what is' to bring them greater wages. At the 
 same time they are frightened to death, and the wives come 
 crying about their husbands, they are sure they will get 
 their heads broken, c. At all hours people are coming, 
 farmers to consult about what should be done, and with 
 fresh stories. In short, we live in a strange, nervous state ; 
 and if we do not make an example, and that speedily, 
 of some of the worst, there will be no end to these out- 
 rages. 
 
 " On Tuesday evening, when all was over, and our fears 
 for the night were quieted by the arrival of the cavalry, 
 Augustus and I sat each in our arm-chair, so completely 
 worn out by the anxiety and fatigue of the day, that we 
 neither of us uttered a word for a couple of hours. From 
 my station at the drawing-room window, I saw the whole 
 combat, and you may guess my horror when, hearing the 
 confusion of Mr. Pile's fall, I saw Augustus rush towards 
 the place, surrounded by the 'bull-dogs,' and my sub- 
 sequent joy when I saw him get away and walk home. 
 They threatened vengeance so loudly that he kept out of
 
 WILTSHIRE RIOTS AND VILLAGE DUTIES. 355 
 
 sight from that time, and I talked to the people who 
 came to the door. As soon as they had filed off across 
 the field to Mr. Miller's, I went down to Mr. Pile's, 
 and such a state of distraction as the house presented 
 I never saw. I went again to hear the doctor's report. 
 The sisters were all activity, and busied about their 
 brother, whilst the poor old mother, not allowed to go 
 into the room, went moaning about, lamenting first over 
 her son, and then over her china ; she herself got a great 
 blow from one of the iron crows. The greater part 
 of our rioters are men who earn from twelve to twenty 
 shillings a week at the Wharf, and spend it all at the beer- 
 shops. 
 
 "Nor. 26. The activity of the magistrates and yeomanry 
 have struck a panic, which will, I trust, spare us any further 
 alarm. Yesterday a Bow Street officer came to get infor- 
 mation. He came out of Kent, and says his own impression 
 is certainly that the fires proceed from the people of the 
 country. He hoped to have got a good clue to one of our 
 incendiaries. The chiefs of our ringleaders are in custody, 
 and Augustus went this morning with Mr. Miller to identify 
 some of the prisoners. He was doubtful about one, till the 
 man put an end to his hesitation by saying, ' You, sir, can 
 witness I was not breaking the machine, for I was talking 
 to you.' 
 
 " The worst of such alarms to one's self individually is the 
 want of security they create ; every unexpected noise, or 
 delay, or interruption, makes one nervous. How anybody 
 accustomed to wars would laugh at one's petty fears ; but 
 certainly a body of undisciplined savages with nothing to 
 lose are not pleasant neighbours. Our own parish is un- 
 touched by suspicion, even ; but it is very uncomfortable 
 talking to the people. It has, and naturally, too, raised 
 their own discontent, and one hears nothing but murmurs,
 
 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 and very rarely an expression of proper feeling at the 
 outrages, though they are all as much terrified as if they 
 were likely to be attacked. I hope a general agreement 
 will soon be entered into, which will settle things. Our 
 tithes of course must fall as the price of labour rises, 
 and we can get little this winter. Had a few people 
 acted at first in a spirited manner, and resisted the giving 
 of money, it would not have reached such a height ; 
 and Sir Edward Poore, as a magistrate, is very much 
 blamed for having given them such encouragement. All 
 agree in condemning the beer-shops as one great incentive 
 to evil. 
 
 " I have written so confusedly before that I thinic you 
 will have no clear idea of my share of the day, so I will 
 tell what I saw. On the approach of the troop, as they 
 came over the bridge, Augustus said to me, ' Go home, and 
 keep in the house ;' and so amid the cook's entreaties 
 that ' Master would come too,' which I knew was vain, we 
 betook ourselves to the house, locked and bolted doors 
 and windows, and had just retreated up-stairs, when a 
 thundering knock came at the front door. Finding my 
 plan of concealment would not do, I presented myself at 
 the drawing-room window, and held a parley with them. 
 ' They wanted to do no harm.' * What have you got those 
 clubs and hammers for, then?' I refused money and went 
 away, but the continued knocking, and threats of breaking 
 doors and windows, soon made me pull out some shillings 
 and throw to them, with which they went away content. 
 Meanwhile I saw in the churchyard all the women and 
 children collected : leaning over the wall of Mr. Pile's yard 
 I could distinguish Augustus and one or two others ; and in 
 the farmyard and all round it were the mob, with shouts, 
 hammering the machines to pieces. I suppose this had 
 gone on for twenty minutes or half an hour, when we (the
 
 WILTSHIRE RIOTS AND VILLAGE DUTIES. 357 
 
 cook and myself, for the other servants were all gone nearer 
 the scene of action) heard a tremendous gallop, and in an 
 instant saw Mr. Pile ride furiously amongst the mob, who 
 gave way directly, and had he kept his ground there, all 
 had been well. There was a confusion, and all I could 
 distinguish was that the farmyard was cleared ; a report of 
 a gun came from the ricks behind the bams, there was a 
 great scream set up, loud shouts, and to my horror I saw 
 Augustus and those with him rush into the field amongst 
 them. However, the alarm for him was not long ; after a 
 few minutes I distinguished him leaving the crowd, and 
 making his way to the house, and never did my legs carry 
 me more willingly than as I flew down-stairs to open him 
 the door. When I again got to my station, the mob were 
 all come round and advancing upon the Piles' house, and 
 the noise was terrible of breaking their windows and doors. 
 As they had vowed vengeance against Augustus for having 
 brought the gun out of the house, he kept out of sight, 
 whilst I sent away the few who came for money, and who 
 were easily contented. After they had completed their 
 destruction at Mr. Pile's, which was not till the poor 
 mangled victim was brought down-stairs again, and had 
 given them ;io, we had the satisfaction of seeing them file 
 away across the fields to Great Alton. In about half an 
 hour they returned to break the Crowe's machine which we 
 had put in the field, and then we saw no more of them ; but 
 as they went off to Stanton, declaring their intention of 
 returning at night, it was an amazing relief when Mr. 
 G. and some other men arrived, who said they had just 
 left Devizes, and heard the troops ordered 'on Alton.' 
 And so ended our siege, which it must be owned was as 
 little resisted as ever enemy was ; but the best labourers 
 were all at a distance, and those near, far too much frightened 
 to give any help."
 
 358 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 JVov. 30. I must copy for you part of Julius's letter 
 about the riots : ' The gentry, the farmers, the clergy, the 
 citizens, the tradesmen of the towns must assemble and 
 form constitutional associations for preserving peace and 
 order. By active energy we may still avoid the danger, 
 which if we are supine will crush us. Most now are weak 
 and yield to intimidations, for it requires an inordinate 
 degree of courage to resist a mob with such fearful weapons, 
 and so unscrupulous in having recourse to the most fiendish 
 measures. Surely, too, if people are but active, many a 
 poor harmless peasant may be saved from joining the 
 wicked hordes, many may be saved from the snares they 
 have already fallen into. Surely the clergy still have an 
 influence over their flocks : they should preach from the 
 pulpit, they should speak in every cottage of the blessings 
 of peace and order, of the intolerable, inevitable calamities 
 that must fall on eveiy class from a system like the present. 
 Surely our nobility and gentry, in spite of the pestilential 
 watering-places and other temples of vanity and frivolity 
 that draw them away from their estates, may still marshal 
 faithful tenants and peasants, if they will but appear among 
 them and at the head of them. Surely the charity which 
 the ladies of England have bestowed so liberally and almost 
 prodigally, has not altogether fallen on stony ground, but 
 will produce some good fruit even for themselves here. 
 The heart of England I am convinced is still sound, in 
 spite of all that has been done to poison it. But it must 
 be appealed to strongly and honestly. We are trying at 
 Cambridge to organize a kind of body for the protection of 
 the country round, in the hope that our example may be 
 folio wed,, though there are many who say there is no need 
 of it yet. Good God, not yet ! When will the time come 
 to shake off our sleep ? When that sleep is cast off by the 
 pangs of death ! I was rejoiced by your ringing the church
 
 WILTSHIRE RIOTS AND VILLAGE DUTIES. 359 
 
 bell ; but, alas ! the Dark Ages are past when that sound 
 would have acted as a summons to every living being for 
 miles around.' " 
 
 M. H. to Miss CLINTON. 
 
 ..." Owing to our predecessor farming his own glebe, 
 we have large farm buildings, and those so connected 
 with the house by thatch, that had the rioters chosen to 
 fire the farthest stack, it would have run like wild fire 
 through our old timbers. I was so stunned by the events 
 of the day, that for some time afterwards I could scarcely 
 feel, and rather thought than could utter a prayer of thanks- 
 giving. What should we do in such moments without 
 the consciousness that whilst man is against us, we have 
 God with us, and the privilege of going to Him, in the 
 earnestness of real want, to implore His protection. 
 Did we but ask for spiritual gifts with half the energy 
 with which in time of need we beseech Him for temporal 
 aid, how surely should we find within us the growth 
 of Christian graces, which we so sluggishly ask for in 
 general." 
 
 M. H. to C. S. 
 
 "Alton, Dec. 10. The odd thing about the riots is, that 
 this is not a year of scarcity. There has been no hard 
 winter and no uncommon pressure of any sort to raise 
 this outcry. And when one sees that half of the discon- 
 tented are men who spend their money at the beer-shops, 
 and who might get ample if they chose, it rather hardens 
 one against sympathy with their distress, and inclines one 
 to think the lenity and indulgence granted in return for 
 their proceedings, not the best-judged. 
 
 " Our carpenter alleged as a reason for the riots here
 
 360 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 ' Oh, they are so ignorant in this county, there's a many 
 who boast that they do not know a great A from a turnip* 
 and certainly in this vale the march of intellect does not 
 appear to have been great ; but it is disheartening to see 
 how sm^ 11 fruit is produced by exertion, and attempts at 
 imprc .<*flient. Some of the worst characters come from 
 Mr. Methuen's parish, and he has been working for years 
 both week-days and Sundays." 
 
 M. H.'s JOURNAL (The Green Book). 
 
 "Dec. n. We are returned to a calm after a period of 
 much anxiety and alarm, in which we have been mercifully 
 preserved from evil. In the hour of need how necessary 
 and supporting it is to lift oneself above earth, and implore 
 protection from above. I know not how else great trials 
 can be borne, and even in smaller ones, it is through prayer 
 alone that the spirit can be refreshed and comforted, and 
 strengthened to bear the evils around. Yet I felt the weak- 
 ness of my faith, and how hard it was to cast all one's 
 care on that merciful Father who invites us to do it ; 
 some would still cling to earth and raise unworthy doubts 
 and fears, and selfish feelings are ever pulling strongly 
 against those heavenly ones of trust and confidence, which 
 should possess one's soul. I feel myself so unworthy of the 
 mercies granted to me, so unable to feel for them that 
 gratitude they should inspire, that when I look on myself I 
 can find no comfort. When the moment of danger arrives, 
 then I feel the wavering of my faith and how much my 
 happiness is set on things below. 'Whilst I cannot but 
 long for other blessings, I feel.how difficult it is to bear those 
 I have with a spirit of resignation to the Giver. May 
 He who knows my weakness have mercy on it, shew me 
 to myself in every secret fault, and lead me by gentle 
 steps to that fountain which alone cleanseth from sin."
 
 WILTSHIRE RIOTS AND VILLAGE DUTIES. 361 
 
 "Jew. 4, 1831. How fearfully does the year open to 
 this country. With trials and condemnations, and, though 
 with less of disturbance than a month ago, with the con- 
 tinual apprehension of such. A bad spirit seems to be 
 everywhere at work, and the ties and bonds of society 
 to be loosening amongst all classes. An impatience of 
 restraint and disregard of authorities and government 
 is growing up, and the ignorant alike with the informed 
 cast from them the wholesome ties which formerly re- 
 strained them. Whence all this originates how it is to 
 be conquered no one seems philosopher enough to dis- 
 cover ; and it is not easy to trace back to their causes the 
 effects which the change of times and circumstances have 
 produced : in short, when I begin to think on it, all 
 seems confusion and difficulty. That wiser heads may 
 through God's grace be led to the best mode of remedy- 
 ing the evil, is all one can pray for. When one thinks 
 of the advantages and blessings hitherto granted to this 
 country, and sees around one so few really feeling and 
 acting upon Christian principles, so few to whom the 
 Gospel seems to have been really made known in more 
 than its form, can one wonder if God should withhold 
 His protection, or permit our neglect of Him and setting up 
 of ourselves to meet with their fit reward ? 
 
 " Excess of luxury and refinement have brought other 
 nations low before us, and if our only superiority, the pos- 
 session of Christianity, is made of non-effect, how can we 
 expect to stand more than they did ? Let each look at 
 home. What do I see there? Perfect thankfulness for 
 all the mercies I receive? entire submission to, and 
 hearty trust in Him who gives them ? an immovable faith 
 and love in God my Saviour, an increasing effort to do Him 
 service, to live to His glory, to promote the knowledge of 
 Him? Alas, no I find none of these things. And yet
 
 362 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 because others think of me better than I deseive, be- 
 cause they 'love and cherish me, I would fain deceive myself 
 with flattering delusions. Oh, may I pray for a true know- 
 ledge of myself, that I may find out every secret spring of 
 action, let it be ever so mortifying to my own proud spirit ; 
 and whilst I learn to judge of others with more mildness, 
 and find excuses for every deviation they may make, may I 
 probe deeper into every fault of my own, and listen not 
 to the tempting voice . of praise, remembering ever for 
 how much I have to account, how many advantages, 
 few temptations, and great mercies. And oh, Father 
 of all mercy, do Thou assist me by Thy Spirit, and 
 grant to me and my beloved such a measure of it as 
 may lead us day by day and year by year nearer and 
 nearer unto thee, that our pilgrimage may be continually 
 one from earth to heaven, and our life here prepare and 
 fit us for the eternal home when Thou wilt be to us All 
 in All." 
 
 M. H. to Miss CLINTON. 
 
 "Alton, Dec. 17, 1830. I hope by this time you are as 
 free from apprehension as we are. I was told only two 
 days ago that Mr. Hunt was coming with some unknown 
 multitudes to invade us, but, as they have not yet appeared, 
 we may conclude, I think, that we were thought unworthy 
 of so illustrious a company. But I suspect we are not yet 
 peaceable at heart, nor can be so till all discussion is at an 
 end, as to the price of labour, &c. The farmers in their 
 first alarm promised more than they can now perform then 
 the labourers rebel. Some of those in the neighbouring 
 villages threaten to punish those in ours for submitting to 
 a lower rate, and our yeoman-farmer declares he will not be 
 bullied into paying more until all is settled and the country 
 quiet again. What a struggle of interests it is ! . . . .
 
 WILTSHIRE RIOTS AND VILLAGE DUTIES. 363 
 
 There certainly is a general spirit of insubordination show- 
 ing itself in all classes. How much less is the authority of 
 parents over children upheld than it used to be, and the 
 attachment between master and sen-ant. Of this latter 
 bond, our wounded neighbour, Mr. Pile, was saying that in 
 his father's time the single labourers all lived in the house, 
 took their meals with the family, and went quietly to bed at 
 nine o'clock. Now they will not do it, but prefer being in- 
 dependent and having their time to themselves. Conse- 
 quently the hours after labour are commonly spent by the 
 young men in drinking or rambling about, and all that 
 social tie is broken through which used to connect them 
 
 with their master's interest Then in dress, how 
 
 it has lessened in respectability, through the cheap and 
 flimsy nature of the materials introduced by modern im- 
 provements. We were riding one day lately and passed a 
 woman dressed so perfectly according to the old style, with 
 her kerchief pinned tightly over a dark blue gown which 
 looked quite new, that Augustus inquired where she got 
 so good a dress. ' Ah, sir, you cannot get such nowadays 
 it was part of the moreen bed-curtains that old Lady 
 Wroughton gave me above twenty years since, and it has 
 been washed many a time, and always keeps new.' . . . 
 I have moralised enough, and, to turn to our proceedings, 
 must tell you that we had a dinner party of eight yesterday 
 an event so rarely happening in our little rectory, that it 
 was not at all a thing of course, that the dinner should 
 come and go, and the company take their chance of being 
 pleased or not. I assure you due consideration had to be 
 given as to the best mode of enabling one boy to wait on 
 eight people, and also where the six strange horses were 
 to go. Augustus brought out his choice Trinity ale, and I 
 regaled them with my Portugal plums and Alderley ginger- 
 bread and all kinds of clerical dainties. There were no
 
 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE 
 
 contretemps, they seemed well-pleased, and all went off 
 much to the satisfaction of my anxious maid Mary, who 
 thought, doubtless, that our credit would have been ruined 
 for ever had there been any disaster. The party was 
 entirely clerical, but not one word of theology was talked, 
 which was quite as well. Had it been, one knows at what 
 a low ebb it would have been, and how truly the Evangelicals 
 might have said how much more attention was engrossed 
 by the temporal than the spiritual wants of the people, and 
 how little of real interest or concern the latter excited. To 
 be sure, if the early Christians could return to earth and be 
 present at some of the Christmas parties of the present day, 
 they would be puzzled to recognise their brothers in name, 
 and would not easily believe that they both professed to 
 serve the same Master. 
 
 " I suppose you have seen in the paper the decision ot 
 Sir J. Nicholl in favour of Lady Jones' intestacy. It is, all 
 things considered, the only fair decision, and though we are 
 losers, Augustus rejoices in it as more conformable to his 
 aunt's wishes than the re-establishment of the first will 
 would have been. 
 
 " We dined at Devizes the other day to meet the Napiers 
 and T. Moore. I liked the poet much better than I ex- 
 pected Our drive home was enlivened by the 
 
 post-boy being attacked by a man with a pistol, threatening 
 to shoot out his brains if he did not stop, and with 
 difficulty ne contrived to flog his tired horses out of 
 reach." 
 
 M. H. to C. S. 
 
 " Alton, Jan. 4, 1831. Julius is here. He preached on 
 Sunday on, ' The Lord is my Shepherd, therefore can I lack 
 nothing.' It was a beautiful New Year's sermon the latter
 
 WILTSHIRE RIOTS AND VILLAGE DUTIES. 365 
 
 part referring strongly to the present state of things the 
 want of security ; how an Englishman's house was no longer 
 his castle; warning them against evil advisers agents of 
 Satan, going about in sheep's clothing in reality their 
 bitterest enemies ; that every newspaper is now telling to 
 what end their counsels lead in this world, and they must 
 know what it would be in the next, c. He ended by a 
 prayer, beginning, 'Heavenly Shepherd.' He was more 
 animated, and I think the sermon was more of an address 
 than last year. Still it had his usual faults of being too 
 much drawn out without a point to rest upon, if you know 
 what I mean not leaving any very distinct impression as 
 to the tenour of the whole argument ; and further, the scrip- 
 tural part seemed rather as if added to, than moulded 
 together with, the philosophical deductions. I suppose he 
 never thinks it dull here. Several evenings he read out 
 pieces in Milton's Reformation, which is, to be sure, a 
 different English from the present, and strong enough. He 
 and Augustus had a long argument on Sunday evening as 
 to how far Milton was responsible for the savage expressions 
 he uses towards the bishops of his own day; Augustus 
 maintaining that in men of genius, that was the mode of 
 temptation to evil passions ; Julius asserting that he did not 
 really feel it, and that it was merely imaginative violence 
 and manner of expressing the principle of hatred towards 
 
 what was bad I have been obliged with Julius, &c., 
 
 to put in a word for Evangelicals, feeling as I do, that, how- 
 ever bigoted on many points, and however inconsistent 
 occasionally, and however presumptuous and absurd, there 
 is amongst them more of real influential piety and spiritu- 
 ality of mind than amidst most of the accusers ; and that 
 taking out a few such exceptions as Arnold, Arthur Per- 
 ceval, c, they are more likely to do good as clergy than 
 the opposite party."
 
 366 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 M. H. to L. A. S. 
 
 "Sunday after Christmas, 1830. It should have been 
 the blessed Christmas night itself that I wrote to my own 
 L., but I was otherwise engaged last night, and this evening 
 will serve as well to share with you the joy of this season, 
 and say how I have felt that we were one in the services 
 and rejoicings of the past two days. A bright sunshine and 
 clear frost seem to belong to Christmas, and give outwardly 
 the cheerful brightness which one's inner man is led to feel 
 in dwelling on the glad tidings this day brought. It is the 
 custom here for the carols to be sung in the night, and it is 
 so delightful to be waked out of sleep by the many voices 
 below our window, proclaiming Christ to be born in Bethle- 
 hem. There is something in the stillness being so broken, 
 Avithout any visible change, which thrills through one's very 
 heart. What joy and happiness those lose who care nothing 
 for that Saviour so freely offered, and who would cling to 
 the cold formalities of natural religion, putting aside so 
 entirely the merciful link connecting us with heaven. It 
 does seem to me also a wonderful perversion of human un- 
 derstanding to find in Scripture any ground for lowering the 
 nature of that Saviour, and making Him less than God. I 
 have been the more struck with the inconsistency lately, 
 having compared the different passages on the subject, and 
 both directly and indirectly the evidence does appear so 
 unanswerable. Was it not Erasmus who said he understood 
 the Bible till he began to look at commentators ? I think 
 I almost agree with him 
 
 " You cannot think, in my visitings away from home, how 
 fearful I often feel lest I should be seeming to agree too much 
 with one side or the other ; but the fact is that, when I hear 
 fresh instances of party spirit, of presumption, and of that 
 ugly thing called Cant, I cannot help agreeing in the con-
 
 WILTSHIRE RIOTS AND VILLAGE DUTIES. 367 
 
 damnation of such unchristian conduct, though generally 
 giving most of the accounts the credit of exaggeration ; and 
 then, on the other side, when I see how much more of real 
 spiritual feeling there is amongst those who are called 
 evangelical, I cannot help preferring their society and con- 
 versation, although I dislike exceedingly the notion of 
 belonging to a sect, or of thinking all Christianity void that 
 is out of it. In short, it always ends in my going to the 
 Book, where there is not one following of Paul or another 
 of Apollos, but Christ is all in all, and where the simplicity 
 is so strikingly contrasted with the colour given by all 
 human authorities, and where humility and charity are the 
 graces most earnestly inculcated. My chief feeling, in hear- 
 ing anecdotes unfavourable, is the longing that those to 
 whom they relate could know how much discredit they 
 bring on the doctrine they wish to adorn, by a too formal 
 adherence to the letter without regarding its spirit; and 
 though it would be worse than mean to compromise what 
 is really essential, I do think much harm is done, or at least 
 many a stumbling-block is laid, by attaching so much im- 
 portance as some do to trifles, and by the jealous fear of 
 being too liberal. Excellent as are many of the religious 
 books of the present day, I believe that were religious 
 teaching to be confined more exclusively to the Bible, it 
 would be more wholesome, and that fewer errors would be 
 taken up ; and in the same way I think that, delightful as 
 the communication is with those who agree with you on 
 religious points, the kind of religious conversations held 
 between people of the same opinion has a great tendency 
 to breed party-spirit and nourish a degree of self-conceit." 
 
 " March 20. I fully understand your feeling of preferring 
 a life which has its crook. I do believe that following only- 
 one's own pleasure and having no call for exertion is not 
 only the least wholesome, but, taking it all in all, the least
 
 363 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 happy way of passing life. I am sure I always find it so ; 
 and that to have sacrificed one's own inclination in ever so 
 trifling a way, is always repaid doubly. I cannot tell you 
 with what joy I look forward to this spring, in the hope of 
 getting you here ; but I would earnestly guard you, in 
 coming here, against expecting too much, either from our 
 people, who have as yet perhaps made but little progress, 
 or from us who are at present but beginners in the art of 
 teaching others, and perhaps in teaching ourselves. O. 
 thought this the dullest and the ugliest place he was ever 
 in, so you must not fancy that you will find a Paradise out 
 of doors of beauty such there certainly is within of love. 
 But I have no fears of your not being happy here." 
 
 M. H. to C. S. 
 
 " East Sheen, May 27, 1831. We came up here on 
 
 Monday On Wednesday evening I went up with 
 
 Mrs. O. L. to the Ancient Music concert : we had good 
 seats just before the director's box, and were in time to 
 see the Queen enter the royal box, and hear the ' God save 
 King William' struck up. With all the discussions and 
 feelings excited lately, one could not hear this without look- 
 ing forward and feeling the unsettled state of things just 
 now ; nor could one look at the Queen and help thinking 
 on how frail a tenure her elevation might perhaps rest some 
 time hence. There was something very thrilling almost 
 overpowering to me, in the ' God save the King,' sung in 
 chorus, all standing up ; and I am now so unaccustomed to 
 public places, that even the number of people, all well 
 dressed, had the effect upon me, as on a child, of novelty. 
 I was sorry not to be nearer the Queen ; one has a 
 curiosity about such people to see how they talk (you 
 know what I mean), whether they really are amused and 
 interested by what goes on. The selection was a particu-
 
 WILTSHIRE RIOTS AND VILLAGE DUTIES. 369 
 
 laity good one, and Pasta sang gloriously ' Ombra Adorata ' 
 and a song of Paisiello, and one heard her so perfectly. 
 The harmony and melody of the Knyvetts was delicious in 
 its way, and I have seldom heard at a concert less of the 
 tiresome music one generally has." 
 
 "Alton, May 30, 1831. Did you think of us on Satur- 
 day, returning with Lucy (Stanley) to our quiet home ? It 
 was a very cool travelling day, and cleared up to a beautiful 
 evening ; so that our drive in our own carriage from Marl- 
 borough was delightful, and Lucy was enchanted with all 
 the woody lanes we came through. Augustus was preparing 
 her all the way for the change she must expect when she 
 got here. However, our little peaceful green home was all 
 she could wish, and I believe fully answered her expecta- 
 tions. The three weeks we have been away seem to have 
 made such a change in the growth of summer, and the 
 extreme quiet strikes one much on coming back. I believe 
 Lucy was in one of her most delicious moments, feeling the 
 completion of her long-raised hopes." 
 
 " Alton, June 2, 1831. There could not have been a 
 more delightful day for the celebration of our second anni- 
 versary. The sun shines without a cloud, and everything 
 looks as joyous and happy as our hearts feel. It is indeed 
 a blessed thing to have had two years of such happiness, 
 and this is quite a fit day to represent it. You may suppose 
 how Lucy has enjoyed it. We had the long table and 
 benches brought out of the barn, and put on the grass-plot 
 under the cherry-tree, by the quince, and twenty-five chil- 
 dren came at twelve o'clock to a dinner of bacon and 
 potatoes, and gooseberry pies. The Piles, Miss Miller, &c., 
 came to look on, and had chairs put out to sit under the 
 trees. What is so common with you, being quite a new 
 thing here, was much thought of. Augustus said a grace 
 before and after, and the children sang their hymn, and 
 
 VOL. I. B B
 
 370 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 each had gingerbread given, and then away they went. It 
 was really no expense, very little trouble, and gave much 
 pleasure. The boys, being out at plough this afternoon, are 
 to have their supper at seven o'clock ; and we, having dined 
 at three o'clock, are now going Augustus and I to take a 
 delicious ride together, and Lucy to enjoy her solitary 
 ramble on the Downs, with her camp-stool and Brute. 
 
 " We are all come in now, well tired, but I must finish 
 my letter to you. It has been the most exquisite summer's 
 evening, and you may guess how we have enjoyed our ride. 
 How I rejoiced in our being in the country again in this fine 
 weather, for though Sheen is very pretty, it is not above 
 half country. 
 
 "We have a curious case in the village just now, of a poor 
 woman, named Mary Browne, who was seized while she was 
 peeling potatoes with what she calls the Dreads, fancying an 
 evil spirit came over her, and she has now taken to her bed 
 for three weeks, constantly tormented by this spirit, which, 
 she says, tells her she shall never be forgiven, tries to hinder 
 her praying, and puts all sorts of bad thoughts into her head 
 whenever she tries to think of God or heaven. She seems 
 perfectly sane, but so very miserable, it is quite sad to see 
 her. Then she has taken a fancy that she is thus tormented 
 in consequence of having taken the sacrament, which I had 
 persuaded her to do on Good Friday, and thought I had 
 satisfied her scruples. There is the oddest mixture about 
 her of self-justification and self-condemnation. I used to 
 think her so insensible when I talked to her, and now she 
 seems to feel only too sensitively." 
 
 M. H. (JOURNAL). 
 
 "June 2, 1831. Our third wedding-day ! Two years of 
 uninterrupted happiness have been granted to us such 
 years as perhaps may never again be permitted us to enjoy.
 
 WILTSHIRE RIOTS AND VILLAGE DUTIES. 371 
 
 We have grown in love to each other, and in comfort with 
 all around us. Have we grown as much as we ought 
 in love and devotion of heart to our Heavenly Master? 
 This is a question I hardly like to ask, for I fear the true 
 answer would be a mortifying, self-condemning one. Some- 
 thing of earnestness in the great work appointed to us, has, 
 I would hope, been added to us; a few seeds scattered 
 amongst our people, have, I trust, been the beginning of some 
 good, which, by God's blessing, may spring up even from 
 the weakest instruments. But when I look into myself I 
 find nothing there but food for sorrow and mourning, that^ 
 with such advantages of situation and circumstances, I have 
 made so little progress in attaining a true Christian spirit ; 
 that I am so little humbled before God ; that my faith is so 
 weak, my trust so wavering. Oh, my God and Saviour, do 
 thou listen to my earnest prayer ! Toke from me the cold- 
 ness and deadness of heart I so often feel in spiritual things. 
 Enlighten me by Thy Word of Truth to see and know Thy 
 will, and by the Holy Spirit assisting me, enable me to 
 struggle without ceasing in bringing my thoughts and affec- 
 tions into obedience to the Cross of Christ. Help me to 
 subdue every selfish and wayward feeling, every desire lift- 
 ing itself up against Thy will, and make me to feel what 
 immense causes I have for thankfulness to Thee. This day 
 united us for ever upon earth. Oh, may it be the fore- 
 runner only of that more perfect union we may hereafter 
 enjoy in heaven ! Do Thou, gracious Lord, be with my 
 husband, softening his heart more and more into perfect love 
 for Thy service, strengthening his faith, and filling him with 
 that joyful communion and heavenly peace which Thou dost 
 bestow on Thy true believers. We must look forward to 
 times when all may not go on as smoothly as it now does. 
 Troubles and sorrows must come ; and I feel at times a 
 painful dread lest there should be found wanting a chasten-
 
 372 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 ing hand to wean me from a too great love for the things of 
 this life, and from placing my affections too entirely on 
 earthly objects. I have been, with one exception, perhaps 
 too prosperous, and my life has too little call for self-sacrifice 
 to be altogether as wholesome as it might be. I must 
 endeavour to supply the need of outward teaching by a 
 more watchful self-examination, a more diligent study of 
 God's Word, and more earnest and unremitting prayer 
 for help and support. May God in His mercy quicken 
 my feeble wishes, and bring them into reality and fulfil- 
 ment." 
 
 A. W. H. (NOTE-BOOK). 
 
 " Whitsunday. Who has not seen the sun on a fine 
 spring morning pouring his rays through a transparent white 
 cloud, filling all places with the purity of his presence, 
 and kindling the birds into joy and song ? Such, I con- 
 ceive, would be the constant effects of the Holy Spirit on 
 the soul, were there no evil in the world. As it is, the 
 moral sun, like the natural, though ' it always makes a day, 1 
 is often clouded over. It is only under a combination ci 
 peculiarly happy circumstances, that the heart suffers this 
 sweet violence perceptibly, and feels and enjoys the ecstasy 
 of being borne along by overpowering, unresisted influxes 
 of good. To most, I fear, this only happens during the 
 spring of life : but some hearts keep young, even at 
 eighty." 
 
 L. A. S. to C. S. 
 
 " Alton, June 3, 1831. I have only been letting a few 
 days pass over the heads of my ideas here, before I began 
 to write. Everything is exactly like my expectation, except 
 that I had imagined too large a scale, and that I had
 
 WILTSHIRE RIOTS AND VILLAGE DUTIES. 373 
 
 no idea Jww great a difference there was between Augustus 
 known, and Augustus unknown, for I never knew him 
 before in the least. The second day after I came I thought 
 a little child would look very dear on the little lawn, but I 
 hardly think it is necessary to their perfect happiness, it is 
 so entire. For myself, I can only say the guest without a 
 husband is as happy as the hostess with ; and, when I was 
 walking over the White Horse's Tail yesterday evening, I 
 felt the very feeling of Wordsworth's Solitary in the ' Excur- 
 sion,' when ' No prayer he breathed he proffered no 
 request.' The only alteration I wish, is to cut down half 
 the trees, but Augustus does not at all agree. It is so 
 amusing to see the interest the grave scholar takes in his 
 cow, and horse, and meadow. He came in yesterday and 
 said he meant to water the grass in the orchard, and was 
 very angry one day because Maria and I had walked all 
 through the long grass, which was to be cut at five this morn- 
 ing. He takes his daily round through the village, and re- 
 turns with a minute account to his Mia. You would have en- 
 joyed seeing Maria yesterday, busy preparing for her school- 
 children, filling the jars with flowers, placing the table under 
 the cherry-tree, all the children meanwhile peeping through 
 the gate ; and then, when all was ready, Augustus exclaim- 
 ing, ' Throw open the doors,' and putting each happy little 
 thing in its place. The feast concluded with the children 
 singing the Morning Hymn, led by Maria. I did enjoy the 
 day thoroughly. It is no difficult task to rejoice with those 
 who rejoice, and rejoice was written in every look and 
 action of the two throughout the day. Then we dined at 
 three, and I and my camp-stool went to explore the Downs. 
 The carpet of cistus, and milkwort and thyme there, is 
 quite beautiful. I delight in the Downs, but they are very 
 fatiguing. The only thing I long for is a running brook, 
 with forget-me-not. The source of the Avon is like the
 
 374 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 outpourings of a soap-tub. Likewise there is a great scarcity 
 of flowers except downy ones. 
 
 M. H. to C. S. 
 
 "Alton, June 8, 1831. I do not think our political 
 horizon is at all more cheering than yours. On Saturday 
 night, a great fire consumed four wheat ricks, and four barns 
 full of thrashed corn, about seven miles off, near Abury, 
 because the farmer had used a machine. On Monday we 
 called on Mrs. Goodman, and found the old lady in great 
 alarm ; one of her sons, who is a farmer, having sent word 
 that morning that one of his servants had been told by a 
 horseman riding by ' If your master does not pull down 
 his machine, all his ricks will be burnt by to-morrow night.' 
 This sounds just like November again, and Augustus and I 
 rode home with something of the same feeling returned. 
 This, with the expectation and threat of burning all the 
 corn as soon as it is ripe, makes one look forward with 
 some dread to the next few months. There is no doubt 
 that a most fearful spirit of insubordination and dissatisfac- 
 tion is abroad, and if ministers do not speedily find some 
 remedy, I fear the Reform Bill will have little effect in 
 
 quieting the disaffected We read Burke, and find 
 
 him really a prophet, and lament there is no such wisdom 
 now. 
 
 " One day Lucy attacked Milton's ' Paradise Regained ' 
 as lowering Christ ; so Augustus brought it out to see, and, 
 I think, allowed it to have that tendency. You would 
 laugh to hear her say she has only one objection to Alton, 
 that she could not be alone enough, meeting people in 
 every field ; and even on the Downs on Sunday evening she 
 met some men who entered into conversation, and told her 
 a long history about the parish, and ' if Lady Hare thought 
 she would ever do any good she was mistaken,' &c.
 
 WILTSHIRE RIOTS AND VILLAGE DUTIES. 375 
 
 Augustus is getting very fond of her, and says it is some- 
 thing quite neiv to him, the books she mentions, and the 
 people, and some of her remarks. She certainly lives more 
 in another world than this; but nothing can be more 
 charitable and lenient than her way of speaking of people. 
 She is much delighted with our hay being all about, and the 
 \vhole family turning out to work. One day a swarm of 
 bees settled in our kitchen chimney. The next day two 
 claimants came to own them, that great division existing 
 as to whether they had flown here from the north or south. 
 Augustus referred the matter to certain judges, who decided 
 against our parishioners; and I believe it ended in 
 Augustus paying both parties for them, and the bees are 
 established in our garden. 
 
 " The little carriage has arrived at Marlborough ; but now 
 is a great difficulty as to who can be trusted to drive it over 
 here ? As our new horse has not been tried, and William 
 has never driven him, we are afraid of sending him for it. 
 Gideon offered his services, but not being used to coach- 
 manship he has been rejected, and in short, I do not at 
 present see how it is ever to get over the nine miles between 
 Marlborough and here, unless we call a parish meeting to 
 ascertain if any of our flock can drive. Then when got 
 here, where is it to be housed, the barn being otherwise 
 used? So you see we are put to great inconvenience by 
 our new gift." 
 
 A 
 
 M. II. (from her Parish Journal). 
 
 "June n, 1831. There had lately come into the parish 
 a Baptist named Richard Douse. I had not held any com- 
 munication with him till this evening, when in coming from 
 my usual visit to Mary Browne, I went into his cottage. 
 After some little talk about poor Mary's unhappy state of 
 mind, he said, ' Ah, I was once in as bad a way as she is.
 
 376 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 It is now many years since I was turned to the Lord.' I 
 asked him what caused him to think seriously. ' Why it 
 was one day when I was working for Mr. Pile's father ; 
 there were a many of us, and we were talking of dying. I 
 said I was not afraid of death, why should 1 ? I had not 
 been cursing nor swearing, nor doing as many did. I 
 always went to church, and did nobody any harm. The 
 next day it came over me all at once. I was not able to go 
 out to work for eight weeks. I thought I was so vile a 
 sinner, God would not have mercy on me. I could get no 
 rest, and they were for sending me to a mad-house, thinking 
 I must be mad. One day I was out in the field. I had 
 beat away my wife and mother that I might go and pray, 
 when all of a sudden it did seem to I as if I heard a voice 
 say in my ears, " The blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from 
 all sin." and in that minute it seemed just as if two great 
 hefts of wheat were lifted off my back.' From that time 
 Richard Douse seems to have been comforted, and said 
 what a blessed thing it was ; that he had seen others in 
 a like way. A young woman at Allington had sent for him 
 when she was ill. He had talked with her, she was bad 
 a long time. Some time after she died ; he was not with 
 her, but he heard she was triumphant. Another case he 
 told of a relation of his own. When she was dying, she 
 sent for him, and, hearing he could stay all night, said, ' Oh, 
 let us bless the Lord for it, then you'll be with me and hear 
 the last word ! ' He answered, he hoped it would be a com- 
 fortable one. She replied, ' I can only give as it is given.' 
 When her parents asked, why she liked so much to have her 
 uncle with her, ' Oh, because we talk about Jesus Christ ; ' 
 and she would not talk of anything else. 
 
 " A woman coming in at this time, we took our leave, 
 when he followed us out of the door, putting out his 
 rough hand to shake mine, the tears standing in his eyes."
 
 WILTSHIRE RIOTS AND VILLAGE DUTIES. 377 
 
 M. H. to C. S. 
 
 " Alton, June 15, 1831. You will be glad to hear we 
 hare got our little carriage from Marlborough. We bor- 
 rowed one of Mr. Miller's servants to ride Goodman Dull to 
 fetch it, and on Saturday it amved. The pony looks 
 twice as well in harness, and goes admirably. On Monday 
 we were, as you may imagine, all impatient to try it, and set 
 out about five, Augustus driving. The very first turn, we 
 came suddenly on two immense timber loads, and narrow 
 indeed was the alternative of going into the ditch, or being 
 fastened on a wheel. However, we did escape both evils 
 and went merrily on, and nothing can do better. The 
 carriage runs so easily and quietly, and Dull scarcely 
 merits so unflattering a name now, he goes so perfectly, 
 never starting or stumbling, and just fit for his driver. 
 
 " My poor woman continues much the same, though we 
 have doctored her body with physic, and her head with 
 vinegar and water, and endeavoured to exercise her mind 
 by reading and talking. It is a very singular case certainly. 
 She is a woman that a year ago, in an illness, I found 
 it impossible to make any impression on. She was ' not 
 worse than her neighbours, went to church,' &c. Now she 
 has these tempts come over her, that God will not forgive 
 her, and that the Evil One will carry her away. It makes 
 her in a sweat all over. Then she prays and it goes away ; 
 but her dread is, lest it should get the better. She is 
 comforted and very grateful for our reading to her, and 
 says, if she can get over this, she thinks she shall be happier 
 than she ever was." 
 
 C. S. to M: H. 
 
 " Highlake, June 23, 1831. A beautiful day on Monday 
 tempted me to choose the open-carriage on the railroad.
 
 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 We got there an hour before the time ; but not having seen 
 the establishment, I was anxious to investigate the whole 
 apparatus of engine and carriages. At ten we started. 
 Three open cars have cushions and divisions, and look 
 very inviting empty, but when filled you are brought into 
 inevitable contact with much that is disagreeable. I was 
 especially so, for I had an intolerable fat neighbour, who 
 was up and down every minute, till at last some one told a 
 story of a man who was killed last Friday by standing up 
 contrary to advice, in that very carriage, and tumbling back- 
 wards over the side ; after which he was a little quieter. 
 The carriage held four-and-twenty. Two men who sat 
 opposite amused me by their conversation. Respectable 
 tradesmen they looked ; one indeed both sensible 
 moderate men. Of Reform, one said he had been a 
 Reformer all his life and was so now ; but should be more 
 hearty in the cause if he could be sure it would stop ; but 
 when he heard the triumph of the demagogues in the 
 success of their perseverance, he could not but agree with 
 them that they had but to persevere again to get what they 
 wanted more ; that he knew many Reformers who were 
 beginning to look the other side the question. He was the 
 sort of man that looked as if he spoke the opinion of a 
 certain class. Nothing can be less enjoyable, I think, than 
 the mode of travelling. You see nothing before nor behind 
 but the carriages before and behind. The noise is deaf- 
 ening, the motion jarring, and besides the Manchester 
 atmosphere you carry with you, which there is no sea- 
 breeze, as in a steamboat, to counteract, particles of 
 cinders or iron dust get into your eyes and blind you for 
 the time, and make your eyes weak for a day or two after- 
 wards ; however, in the shut carriages these evils are avoided. 
 Our train consisted of a hundred and fifty. It is as well 
 managed apparently as it can be ; but to me, who detest
 
 WILTSHIRE RIOTS AND VILLAGE DUTIES. 379 
 
 all bustle of the kind, the luggage and the omnibus, and the 
 quantity of trunks that even three little people take to 
 convey their goods when everything must have its place, 
 make the convenience of one's own carriage rise sensibly 
 before one. I feel it, however, almost wrong and un- 
 grateful to speak disrespectfully of such a wonderful in- 
 vention and arrangement as it is. The rapidly improving 
 state of the country through which it passes is curious, 
 Chat Moss getting into cultivation houses building, c." 
 
 M. H. to C. S. 
 
 " Millards Hill, July 2, 1831. We left Lucy to her 
 solitude on Tuesday, and set off hither at eleven o'clock in 
 the little carriage only Augustus and I. We trotted 
 merrily on to Trowbridge, it being a cool day, and thought 
 v\-e had maligned Dull. Then we waited an hour, had 
 dinner, read the newspaper, and set off again at half-past 
 five. The road was so hilly all the way to Frome, that we 
 ^ot on very slowly. Our chief amusement was that, in 
 going up one of the long hills, we were overtaken by a 
 newsman from Bath, who began talking to Augustus, saying 
 how many more papers had been in request at the rate of 
 eight or nine a week more than before the Reform Bill. 
 Then he talked of how many miles he walked a day, &c. ; 
 * but I shall not have to do it much longer.' ' Why ? how 
 so ? Have you got some other place ? ' ' No, sir ; a rela- 
 tion has died in the East Indies, and I and my brother are 
 his heirs, and we never saw till lately the advertisement, 
 which had been for three years in the papers. We were 
 offered yesterday ^4,000 for our shares.' ' But you won't 
 take it ? ' ' No, sir ; we know what the amount is ninety- 
 three thousand odd hundred pounds.' He entered into all 
 the details of how the Will was in Doctors' Commons, and 
 about the interest and legacy duty, &c. 'Not that we
 
 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 should have been up to this if the lawyers had not set us up 
 to it.' He was the commonest pedlar-looking man. 
 Augustus was very near giving him a shilling, for the sake 
 of saying that he had done it to a man worth the half of 
 ninety-three thousand pounds." 
 
 C. S. to M. H. 
 
 " Alderky, July 7, 1831. We came back from Highlake 
 by the train, but in the shut carriages. There was a man 
 killed in our train, but we knew nothing of it at the time, 
 but that there was an unexplained stop of a minute ; in fact 
 you know just as much of what goes on in any other part 
 of the train as if you were at Alton. There were only 
 three places vacant when we went three hours before the 
 time to take our places. It is more like taking places at a 
 theatre than anything else. You book yourselves for the 
 seats you choose, and, having a number on your ticket, find 
 your place accordingly in the train. Another remark I 
 made was, how little idea you have of the distance you pass 
 over, when the objects are not previously known to you. 
 No road having ever been upon the line of railroad, of 
 course there are no landmarks, and for anything one sees, 
 the distance might be only twelve miles. It did seem 
 marvellous, indeed, to find one's self at Huyton Church, six 
 miles, in eight minutes, from Liverpool." 
 
 M. H. to L. A. S. 
 
 " Stoke, Sept. 30. I felt very sad in parting with 
 you, dearest Lucy, and in thinking that I should return 
 without you to our peaceful home. Our pilgrimages are at 
 present, it is true, through widely different paths, and yours 
 is often rugged, whilst mine is permitted for a time to be 
 strewn with flowers ; but the final home is the same to both, 
 and perhaps the very thorns and briers which seem a hin-
 
 WILTSHIRE UIOTS AND VILLAGE DUTIES. 381 
 
 drance at the time, may be the best and surest means of 
 arriving at the end in safety, and further the poor weary 
 pilgrim on his journey far more effectually, than the more 
 pleasant attendants on the road in flowers and smoothness. 
 However this may be, it is happily for us arranged for our 
 good by One who seeth not as man seeth, and whose 
 infinite wisdom and mercy knows how best to suit our 
 needs. May we only use the means placed in our power, 
 whether of joys or sorrows, so as to advance nearer and 
 nearer to His eternal kingdom, and then it will matter little 
 whether these few years be spent in one way or another. 
 What a blessing it is, dearest, that our re-union has proved 
 indeed so true a one, and that we feel ourselves in the same 
 course, running the same race ; we indeed are far behind, 
 yet I would fain hope striving after the same prize; and 
 especially do I rejoice that it is no longer I alone who 
 share your thoughts and love and prayers, but my own 
 dearest Augustus also who is united with me in your heart. 
 This is no trifling result of our three months' happiness, and 
 will endure long after the impression of it becomes less 
 strong than it is at present." 
 
 " Stoke, October 10. When I think how I used to com- 
 plain of the want of interest and the dreariness here, which 
 now seems to me by comparison so extended and beautiful, 
 and think how it never has occurred to me, at our little 
 miniature of a garden and house and grounds, to feel a 
 deficiency, I am fearfully sensible what a great weight of 
 happiness rests upon one person, and how dependent I am 
 upon what ? Upon a Father who loveth His children 
 better than any earthly parent, and will never leave nor for- 
 sake them. We have had a delicious evening service. Julius, 
 who is staying here, read prayers, and Augustus preached, 
 I having just before had the pleasure of hearing one of my 
 favourite cottagers say of the last Sunday's sermon, ' I have
 
 382 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 never had it out of my head since. I never heard a minister 
 that satisfied' me so well. I hope I shall never forget it, he 
 went so desperate deep ; antd told such truth, one could not 
 but understand it. I take it he must be a rare good liver 
 to preach like that' "
 
 XI. 
 
 SUNSHINE. 
 
 44 Ever)' one ought to read in a triple book, 
 
 in the book of Creatures, that he may find God ; 
 
 in the book of Conscience, that he may know himself; 
 
 in the book of Scripture, that he may love his neighbour " 
 
 ALAN us PE INSULIS. 
 
 M. H. to C. S. 
 
 " [ ECKFIELD PLACE, Oct. 15, 1831. Who do you 
 think we have here ? Lady Elizabeth Whitbread. 
 She is mother to Mrs. Shaw-Lefevre, wife of the member 
 for Hants (which I never knew till I came here, so un- 
 communicative is Augustus about his relations), and sister, 
 as you probably know, to Lord Grey. I must speak of her 
 first, for I can only think of her. She is a magnificent woman, 
 has been very handsome, and is so dignified, with such 
 simplicity and strong sense ; one could see in a moment it 
 was no ordinary character. When Augustus was reading a 
 letter of Lord Grey's in the paper to-night, her eyes filled 
 with tears ; and when he said anything in praise, her face 
 glowed with delight. Just now, one does look with great 
 interest at any person connected with political life, and she 
 has all the old experience of it, and delights Augustus by 
 bringing up what she has heard from Charles Fox. Mrs. 
 Lefevre is very much pleased at our coming, wants us to
 
 384 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 stay longer, and is all kindness. There is nobody but her 
 daughter-in-law, Mrs. Shaw-Lefevre, and her children, who 
 live here. Mr. S. Lefevre is absent at Winchester sessions, 
 but returns to-morrow. It is an ugly-looking red brick 
 house, but very excellent inside, rooms on a large scale, and 
 everything very handsome and well appointed, though a little 
 formal. There is a charming large common close by, with 
 copsewood, and wild brambles and furze, looking both 
 cheerful and picturesque ; and the distant views, like Wood- 
 hay, are soft and rich. Mr. Blackstone is the vicar, and 
 comes in and out here whenever he likes. He has been 
 here both evenings, and this evening we have had some 
 amusing discussions, in which Lady Elizabeth bore her share, 
 and that a very delightful one. There is a genuineness and 
 truth about all she says that does one good to hear ; and 
 then she does listen in such a way ! and raises herself up at 
 times in her plain black dress with such dignity, when any 
 opposition to her opinion is raised. Augustus had attacked 
 some expression of Mrs. Shaw-Lefevre's at dinner, and she 
 said immediately, ' Oh, you and mamma would agree about 
 language, she is as fastidious as you are ; ' and accordingly, 
 as soon as we went into the drawing-room where Lady 
 Elizabeth was (for she has been very ill, and only comes down 
 in an evening), they began a discussion upon language, in 
 which she quoted Fox's opinion that you should always 
 talk with the people, and she found as much fault with 
 modern corruptions as Augustus himseif said she could 
 not understand half of what was said nowadays, there was 
 so much phraseology in certain sets. Then they got upon 
 public speaking, and she criticised some of the speeches, 
 and spoke with delight of her brother's ; then to preachers, 
 when we had. a very amusing discussion between her and 
 her daughter about Mr. Howels. . . . But I must not go on 
 in this way ; you may imagine how entertaining it is. I
 
 SUNSHINE. 385 
 
 quite delight in this country, it is so cheerful and airy, and 
 yet so well wooded; just the sort of country to live in for 
 enjoyment." 
 
 M. H. to L. A. S. 
 
 " The dear Alton, Oct. 22, 1831. A threatening shower 
 passed away before we got into the Vale, and the sun shone 
 brightly as we came over the brow ; and said Augustus, 
 ' Well, it is not so bcazttiless' There stood Miss Miller and 
 her cousin busy at work in their garden ; there were the little 
 school-girls at the usual corner ; and some little way farther, 
 there came out of his cottage-door, at the sound of the wheels, 
 John Brown himself, in his blue cap, which he took off, 
 stroking clown his hair as you may see him doing, with his 
 honest welcome. The dear little peaceful home ! You know 
 what my feeling is when I come back to it, and that I have 
 scarcely a word ready to give the servants who greet us, so 
 full is my heart at this moment." 
 
 L. A. S. to M. H. 
 
 " Corinne Bay, Peiirhos, Sept. 28, 1831. This has been 
 a happy Sunday. I could not go to church, and have spent 
 most of the morning and afternoon in my rocky chamber, 
 with the seagulls and kittewakes for a congregation. No- 
 where, I think, can one enter more into the beauty of 
 Christ's discourses than by the sea, where most of His words 
 were spoken. The waves, in their stillness or motion, must 
 be the same everywhere, and the sound, on our ear as we 
 read, was in His when he spoke. 
 
 " At this moment, a huge brown seagull is flapping over 
 my head, two white-sailed sloops are lying in the bay, 
 and the air is as soft as June. The wind does not touch 
 my paper, but there is enough to give the sea motion, 
 
 VOL. i. re
 
 386 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 and make the small waves break over the limpet-covered 
 rocks." 
 
 " Oct. 1 6. I intend this to find you when you arrive at 
 the dear home. I have fancied you saying every now and 
 then to Augustus, ' next Sunday we shall be in the little 
 church ;' and much as you have enjoyed seeing all the 
 clear Stoke and Alderley people, I know the full heart of 
 grateful joy, and the thrilling sensation, with which you will 
 see Gideon run to open the gate, and feel, as you drive in, 
 that you are once more all in all to each other." 
 
 " Nov. 7. Now for two happy hours. They all went to 
 Beaumaris this morning, since which I have fulfilled all 
 necessary duties, and now have established myself in the 
 breakfast-room. The three Greek books are ready open ; 
 my task for to-night, the thirteenth and fourteenth verses of 
 Matt. vi. When I was eating my solitary dinner just now, 
 I thought of the last I ate at Alton, with Brute by my side. 
 It is blowing a heavy gale, and there are such strange noises 
 abroad ; the dogs are snuffing and listening as if they heard 
 people growling low. Your letter came just as I was thinking 
 of you both in prayer, and spoke less of earth than heaven. 
 You place me completely by your side. How little I did 
 what I ought to have done ; how much I did which I ought 
 not to have done at dear Alton, and yet it is very sweet to 
 me to think that we are perhaps sometimes helped on our 
 way and fresh grace given, in answer to the humble 
 prayer of some of Christ's little ones, who remember the 
 little word of advice or comfort we offered, long after our 
 own fleeting thought of it passed away. I have been 
 refreshing myself with some of St. Augustine's and St. 
 AnseJm's meditations, and I always find myself most 
 honestly described in the writings of these old Fathers, 
 there is such a deep knowledge of the human heart, with 
 such simplicity and heavenly-mindedness. They spoil one
 
 SUNSHINE. 387 
 
 for modern authors. I find Julius very often in these old 
 men's quaint sentences." 
 
 Only a week after their return to Alton, Augustus left for 
 London, to hear the legal argument of the Winchester 
 Appeal, which he had been long occupied in drawing up on 
 the Founder's Kin question. 
 
 M. H. to A. W. H. 
 
 "Alton, Oct. 29, 1831. When the dearest Augustus gets 
 this, his ordeal will be over, and the argument whether good 
 or bad will have come, I trust, to a conclusion. Either 
 you will be railing at the inefficient manner in which Jenner 
 served your cause, or at the long-winded prosiness of your 
 opponents ; you will have longed to get up and defend your 
 own position, or you will scarcely feel a triumph from the 
 weakness of your adversary. I hardly dare venture to hope 
 that this will find you satisfied with the able way in which 
 the question has been argued, and content to rest its 
 decision on the impression that argument has left. You 
 know how much your own darling Mia will think of you 
 and wish for your success on Monday ; and if you are dis- 
 heartened and wanting comfort, you will like to have a few 
 lines telling you so, though they can do you no further 
 good. I rejoiced so much yesterday in the beautiful day 
 for your journey, I hardly could regret you were not with 
 me to enjoy it ; and my walk up the hill was full of pleasant 
 and grateful thoughts, both of you and the dear Luce, who 
 had been my last companion on the Downs. With so 
 bright a sky and balmy an air, one could only love tenfold 
 those whom God has given us to love, and feel how littk j 
 reason one has to doubt his wonderful care over them. 1 
 am glad you do not know how weak and faithless my heart 
 often is as icgards the future, and how many times there
 
 388 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 comes across my happiness an unreasonable dread of wha 
 is to come ; such feelings are however useful, I daresay, and 
 serve to keep up a sense of our dependence and need of 
 help, which might with stronger nerves be forgotten or 
 weakened. We have received such great mercies hitherto, 
 we cannot doubt that the same loving Father will be with 
 us always, whether in chastening or joy. Dearest Augustus, 
 you know how tenderly I love you ; and how, when you are 
 absent, my heart cannot help gushing over with affection, 
 for then I feel how bare and desolate life would be without 
 you. It is so blessed a thing in our affection that no 
 blights or spots obscure it, as is often the case in little 
 things, between those who are really attached, from dis- 
 similarity in character, or some unavoidable circumstance of 
 unsuitableness. But I must not dilate on this often-told 
 theme. I hear a voice calling me to give an account of 
 myself, and though it should be ever so unimportant in 
 the eyes of many, to my own husband I know that the' 
 details of my day cannot be uninteresting. 
 
 ..." The school was, of course, my first object where I 
 was much pleased with the progress the children had made 
 in our absence. They had learnt all I had set them very 
 perfectly, and said it very well, and I was well satisfied that 
 Mrs. Patrick had done her duty thoroughly. . . . Then-, 
 what else did I do ? scold Gideon, who did not much like 
 it, and said he should be three days over the work, which 
 three days were short ones, seeing the potatoes were safely 
 hodded is not that the word ? before night. 
 
 " Oct. 30. No dear Sunday work to-day no sermon to 
 pin, no date to write, no hymn to hear. The house reems 
 especially dull and unlike itself to-day; and, when the reach- 
 ing was over, and service ended, I missed the dearest 
 Aug. sadly. The only consolation I could find was that 
 the singers did not choose to sing, and that both morning
 
 SUNSHINE. 389 
 
 and evening service were without any relief, so that you 
 would have been tired. The churches were reversed in 
 consequence of the frost this morning, which made the 
 great church too damp for use ; but this afternoon we had 
 service there, and our seat, I am happy to find, has been 
 new boarded at last. 
 
 " I have been reading Chalmers' 'Civic Economy.' How 
 admirable what he says of the advantages of Local Districts, 
 and the bringing teachers and people into contact ; and the 
 want of more labourers in the vineyard to make the harvest 
 plenteous. In how many places one hears complaints of 
 the want of churches, and ignorance of all the people ; 
 and yet people talk of no Church reform being necessary. 
 The danger is, lest in these change-loving times, a stone or 
 two may be pulled out, which may chance to be the main 
 prop of the whole, and the whole edifice may come down at 
 once, where repair and amendment only are needed. We 
 must labour all the harder whilst means and time are 
 allowed us ; and, if in this little spot we could sow some of 
 the good seed, it will be a blessed support and comfort 
 when the great earthquake does come. I pray for my 
 dearest Augustus that he may be strengthened and con- 
 firmed in his own faith, and enabled to win many over to 
 the Truth, and may we both make many shoots upwards, if 
 it is only as a sign of our thankful love for all the blessings 
 given us. 
 
 . . . Sleep well to-night, and do not dream about stand- 
 ing up before the Bishop to plead your Anti-Founder's 
 cause, and do not let all the ghosts of poor Wykeham's 
 much injured and greatly beloved kinsfolk haunt you. 
 When may I look for the dear step, ' that has music in it, 
 as it comes up the stair; for there's nac luck aboot the 
 hoose when my gude man's awa' ? ' "
 
 3QO MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 A. W. H. to M. H. 
 
 " London, Oct. 31, 1831. We were at it till dark. Sir 
 Herbert Jenner learned and composed ; Erie, strong, clear, 
 and very good; Phillimore, as yet, weak as water, save 
 such strength as in spite of himself Wykeham's statutes give 
 him. He has got half through his speech, and will pro- 
 ceed to-morrow morning. Then comes Lefevre, who will, 
 I fear, be powerful. We have the right of reply, and all is 
 done. You would have been amused at the objection 
 taken at the beginning of the case against my presenting 
 the Appeal, because I was no longer a member of New 
 College. He also read a passage from the statutes against 
 those who, ' at the instigation of the old Serpent,' plot any 
 innovation on Wykeham's statutes. So that all my labours 
 have been at the instigation of the Devil ! Truly, if so, he 
 has been a worse paymaster than usual, for he has given 
 me none of his coin. 
 
 " Nov. 2. Our argument was resumed yesterday. I got 
 to the Court a quarter before ten, and found Phillimore at 
 work. They had begun about ten minutes. But what sort 
 of a place is the Court ? Why, like any other Court, with 
 one end raised, like a horse-shoe, with a great round chair 
 in the centre, wherein sat the Visitor, with the collar of the 
 Garter, but out of lawn sleeves. Patteson was on his right, 
 and Lushington on his left, on less conspicuous seats. These 
 filled the centre of the horse-shoe ; we occupied the right 
 of it, Phillimore and Lefevre the left. In the centre, below 
 us, was a large green-baized table, round which sat the 
 reporters and the audience. When Phillimore ended, up 
 got Lefevre, very serious, and wisely diffident. With the 
 Canon and Civil Law he had the good sense not to meddle. 
 His best point was an attempt, and I expect a very just one, 
 though it made little impression on the Judges, to infer from
 
 SUNSHINE. 391 
 
 a variety of old documents that the questions discussed 
 before Bromley and Laud were not of degree, but of pedi- 
 gree and, if so, the main prop of our argument is cut 
 away. Jenner replied, and made some good points in 
 reply to Phillimore, and would have made more, but 
 Phillimore, to break the effect of his speech, kept inter- 
 rupting him every other sentence. His law was dull and 
 lengthy, and I half wished the reply had fallen to me. I 
 woke the night before with rny head full of what I should 
 say if I had to speak. About four the business closed, and 
 the Judges departed, not half so tired I hope as I was. 
 My impression of the ignorance of Doctors' Commons is 
 unchanged. With Jenner's industry and attention I have 
 every reason to be satisfied. But most assuredly, if the 
 case were to be re-argued, I would go to work myself; and 
 I will venture to say. that with the insight I have gained 
 into the bearings of Civil Law on the question, and the ad- 
 vantages of great and good libraries, I could do better, or 
 at least provide better materials on the question." 
 
 M. H. to L. A. S. 
 
 " Nov. 2. What is the dear Luce about, that I have not 
 had a word to comfort me in my solitude ? but, indeed, you 
 are with me now in every walk, and it is quite curious how 
 you rise up in my path wherever I go. It is no longer an 
 occasional thought and wish that you might sometime or 
 other come here, a feeling I used to have when breathing 
 the Down air this Lucy would enjoy ; but it is the cer- 
 tainty that you know every bye-lane and house and field 
 around us, and that to your mind's eye they are often as 
 present as they are to mine in reality. The little sparkling 
 old Hannah Baillie told me the other day, ' I never can 
 help thinking of she as I go down that lane, nor should I 
 if I lived to a hundred ! ' And then she told me of your
 
 392 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 sitting down and reading to her there, and of all that was 
 said on both sides. The dear little woman is as eager to 
 hear and to learn as ever, and there is a sincerity about her 
 which one must hope much from. ' Ah,' she said, ' I hope 
 God Almighty will bless that good lady for all she did here 
 indeed her pleasure seemed to be amongst the poor;' 
 and, little as it may seem to many, by you the prayer and 
 blessing of poor Hannah will not be despised. All hands 
 and minds are just now as busy in getting in potatoes as 
 they were in gleaning when you were here, and few people 
 are at home. Do you remember the canting old man, who 
 talked of how many chapters he read in a year? Since we 
 went he has sent his son and daughter, and their children, 
 away, and taken his sweetheart to live with him. So much 
 for the good his chapters did him ! I begin to think his 
 former wife was not much to be wondered at for having a 
 distaste for texts. 
 
 "And have I written all this, and not said a word of the 
 dear Master, the chief subject of my rejoicing over your 
 visit that you have learnt to know and love each other ? It 
 is such a pleasure to me to think that there is now one 
 person who knows what he is, and there is no one but you 
 who does know it in the same degree, and there is a sensible 
 difference between thinking it right people should love each 
 other, and thinking it impossible they should do otherwise." 
 
 "Saturday Evening, Nov. 12, 1831. Augustus has not 
 gone down to the Study. He is walking about in the 
 drawing-room, then sitting down, and scribbling as fast as 
 he can, then referring, it may be, to the newspaper? before 
 him ; for his subject is the cholera his text, I belie've, is 
 2 Chron. vii. 4 and what a subject it is ! How soon has 
 England followed the fate of its sister countries, in spite of 
 that sea, which so many hoped would save it from the 
 scourge. If the evil really comes home to our own doors,
 
 SUNSHINE. 393 
 
 God will, I hope and trust, strengthen us to meet the trial. 
 At present, I confess, I shrink at the prospect, and feel 
 very faint-hearted in thinking of the winter before us. 
 Sometimes I am quite ashamed of the indescribable dread 
 I feel of all the trial of our faith likely to beset us, and the 
 more we love each other, and enjoy our present happiness, 
 the more I tremble for the sad reverse it may please God to 
 bring upon us. For the first time, I now really rejoice 
 that I have no children to watch over and add to my 
 anxieties, and, in the present state of this country, I feel 
 sure it is far better to be as independent of outward circum- 
 stances as possible. My faith is sadly weak at times. 
 Pray for me, dearest, that I may have grace given to help 
 and support me, and to enable me to set my affections more 
 upon things above, and that my Augustus may be helped to 
 rouse the sleepers and excite the slothful to watch and be 
 ready. The liability to fevers in this vale has taken away 
 one's confidence in the treeless openness. Augustus brought 
 from London a medicine chest full of the proper medicines, 
 and he has been giving orders to get the unsavoury lane 
 purified, as well as a dry path made for the people to come 
 to church. 
 
 " And now, to turn to a more agreeable subject What 
 do you think he brought me from London ? the most 
 beautiful little Greek Testament you ever saw. Then I 
 have a Parkhurst like yours. With these excitements, I 
 hope to get on much with Greek, and, by-the-bye, I can 
 comfort you with the experience I have had that, having 
 for a long time been forced to study every word, and fancy 
 it was all uphill, and I was getting on so slowly, all at once 
 I found myself far more advanced than I thought, and got 
 on much more rapidly. It is much the best way to read 
 only a little, and make yourself thoroughly mistress of it, 
 as you seem to be doing."
 
 394 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 " Sunday Ercning. How I wish you could have been 
 here to-day, and have heard the sermon. Augustus began 
 by saying that he should explain what the danger was that 
 the form of prayer alluded to, and entered into all the 
 details respecting the disease, its beginning, and gradual 
 approach ; read out of the newspaper the symptoms, and 
 also the advice of the physicians about temperance and 
 cleanliness ; then specified how this country, from its thick 
 population and rapid communication, was, more than any 
 other, likely to have it spread in every part; entered into the 
 details of how every house should be ventilated, and how 
 both personal and domestic cleanliness were essential as 
 precautions, and all this before it came to our doors. When 
 it was really come if it did ' the first thing, to put the 
 patient into a bed as hot as possible, the second thing to 
 come to me, 1 without a moment's loss of time an hour's 
 delay might be fatal : he had procured all the necessary 
 medicines. When, from the temporal danger, and the pre- 
 cautions necessary, he turned to the far more important 
 need of timely repentance, and the impossibility in this 
 sickness of turning to God at the last hour, and was 
 gradually warmed by the subject to exhort and beseech 
 their consideration of these things, you may fancy how 
 the dear Augustus's countenance was lighted up, and how 
 all the feebleness of bodily fear (of which he has by nature 
 much in cases of danger) was subdued and conquered by 
 the bright hope within him and the prospect of serving his 
 Lord and Master ; and when his appeal to their soul's wel- 
 fare ended by his triumphant question of, ' What have 
 Christ's servants to fear ? a little sickness, a few pangs, a 
 plunge into the grave, and an issue thence to life and 
 glory ! ' the impression left was far from being the melan- 
 choly one which all the earlier details of his sermon might 
 have led one to expect, and I really feel more comfortable
 
 SUNSHINC. 395 
 
 than I have done for some days. It was in Great Alton 
 Church, and the people were, as you may suppose, all atten- 
 tion, and some, I believe, in tears. God grant their hearts 
 might be touched. Augustus got through it very firmly, 
 but could scarcely get through the blessing. At this 
 moment he is resting upon the sofa, and I have been 
 playing and singing the hymn in times of danger, 'And 
 when thy sorrows visit us, oh grant thy patience too.' " 
 
 A. W. H. to L. A. S. 
 
 "Nor. 22. The dear Mia and her husband unite when 
 are they disunited ? to send greeting to their dear Luce. 
 They wish she was here to keep the birthday to-day, and to 
 
 rejoice with them in their happy lot I have taken 
 
 a great liking, a great respect, rather, for Pontin. We 
 were asking him about bedding, and he said, with the 
 greatest simplicity, ' Oh, we are very well off now we 
 have got sheets.' 'But, to keep you warm?' 'Oh, yes, 
 and we are warm enough with the sheets we do very 
 well, thank you.' And his little girl the other day, seeing 
 our Jack and Dull coming down the brow, put down her 
 umbrella, though it was raining, and hid it under her cloak. 
 ' Why did you do that, my little girl ? ' ' Not to frighten 
 the horses.' " 
 
 M. H. to L. A. S. 
 
 "Nov. 22. Augustus is just gone off to the barn, 
 having been busy studying the ' Sermon on the Mount ' for 
 to-night. I wish for you so much in our daily evening 
 lecture. Sumner's book is very good for the purpose, and, 
 of course, Aug. puts in explanatory bits of his own, and he 
 sometimes reads one of Reginald's hymns. The people 
 bring their Bibles, and look out any references, and it is 
 just what I have long wished for. We have to-day finished,
 
 396 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE 
 
 together, Malachi, and shall begin to-morrow with Lowth's 
 Isaiah. You, too, will be studying this prophet, for he is 
 in the course ; so you may think of us, and I know you 
 like to know our line of thought and study." 
 
 JULIUS HARE to M. H. 
 
 " Cambridge, Nov. 22, 1831. Very many happy returns 
 of the day to you, dearest Maria ! and on very many lyths 
 and 22nds of November may you and Augustus drink each 
 other's healths, each of you blest in seeing the other by 
 your side, both of you blest in living amid a flock to whom 
 you are administering the comforts of earth, and whom you 
 are guiding towards the bliss of heaven. Dearest Maria, 
 it is a great joy to think that one of my brothers, the 
 dearest of them, is blest with the choicest gift that Heaven 
 can bestow, a good and loving wife. For myself, though I 
 know full well how to prize it, though there is nothing on 
 earth thr.t my heart reveres so much as the graces of 
 womanly virtue, my destiny has cut out a path for me, from 
 which I can only gaze at it from afar, but which, God be 
 thanked, has many pleasures of its own, far more than 
 enough to content any heart, not a prey to morbid cravings. 
 Still, I rejoice most heartily that one of my brothers has 
 met with the goodlier lot, the choicer happiness ; and may 
 God bless you, Maria, for being the source of it for making 
 Augustus so happy ! I wish I could give you my greetings 
 by word of mouth, and could drink your healths in your 
 presence. As it is, I must content myself with doing so in 
 my lonely tower : and yet I ought not to call it lonely ; for 
 it is thronged with immortals, though the outward shell of 
 mortality is rarely seen in it. 
 
 " When you come here next spring, and, as you have 
 set your mind upon dragging me away from my beautiful 
 rooms to Hurstmonceaux, in order that you may stay in
 
 SUNSHINE. 397 
 
 your beautiless parsonage of Alton, you positively must not 
 put off coming here, God willing, beyond the coming out 
 of the leaves next spring, you must make yourself at home 
 here for at least a week, and then you will have time to 
 find out what noble-minded persons I am living among. 
 
 " Edward Stanley seemed thoroughly well pleased with 
 his stay here, and told me that our great men were the 
 best people he had ever met with, talking wisdom and 
 nonsense in the same breath, and with the same uncon- 
 straint, and pouring out their knowledge as liberally as if it 
 was dross." 
 
 L. A. S. to M. H. 
 
 " Pcnrhos, Nov. 15, 1831. My week of solitude, unlike 
 yours, has seemed only a day long. I have done so much 
 Greek. No study ever came in one's way at a better time ; 
 it puts everything else out of my head and makes the hours 
 fly : and living as I do so much alone in thoughts and 
 interests, though with many round, it is very wholesome to 
 have some one engrossing study; and to look steadily at the 
 times before us, with the almost certain approach of cholera, 
 requires a steady and continual practice of Faith, which 
 though I can enforce strongly, I shrink from at times 
 myself in looking forward to all that may be in store for 
 those I love. One thing always will come into my prayer* 
 that if the cholera does come, it may not reach Alton. 
 
 "Nov. 22, 1831. The first thing I remembered when I 
 woke was your birthday, and my eye fixed on the dear 
 Alton picture over the fireplace. The first verse of the 
 morning Psalm is the proper language of rejoie'ng for this, 
 day o h, how often we forget to thank God fo. T the pp>e.ir 
 blessings he is loading us with, while we are anticipating a 
 time when they may cease, forgetting that if we are /it's 
 children they never can cease. God bless you both> is
 
 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 the constant prayer of my heart. Do not fear the cholera. 
 Put all into the hands of that God, whose eye is ever over 
 us. You may say of me ' she talks to me, who never had 
 a husband, and I am very weak in Faith ' but we both 
 know there is a Rock and Shelter from every storm. There 
 is a beautiful passage on Faith in our favourite Leighton, 
 ' Faith rolls the soul over on God, Faith sets a soul in 
 Christ, and then it looks down upon all temptations, as at 
 the bottom of a rock, breaking themselves with foam,' or 
 something like this." 
 
 " Alderlcy, Dec. 22. I dreamt last night I was at Alton, 
 and you told me in consequence of something Augustus 
 had said at church, that Mary Brown had decided on going 
 to the sacrament at Christmas. Often, when I am on my 
 knees in prayer, the white cottage, or the dirty lane, have 
 come so visibly before me, it is no exertion of thought, but 
 quite natural to pray for her. Poor thing, the more one 
 feels the perfect joy it is, to walk under the light of God's 
 countenance, the more easy it is to pray for those who are 
 for a time suffered to walk in darkness. All this would be 
 Greek to poor Mary, but tell her I thought of her last 
 Sunday in church, when reading the Collect and Epistle, and 
 the Epistle struck me as one just comfortable and short for 
 her to learn. It is a good Christmas greeting. 'Rejoice in 
 the Lord always; and again I say, Rejoice' as if there was 
 nothing more else for God's people to do, but to rejoice. I 
 shall rejoice much with you this Christmas, for I shall spend 
 much of my time with you. I hope Julius will have some 
 sunny days to walk up Old Adam, and if he calls the view 
 from thence bcautiless, he will be only fit to live all his 
 days with the noble-minded sages of Trinity College. 
 
 " Augustus would be ashamed of me (though you will not) 
 if he knew how I delight in all the smallest things you can 
 tell me about him, the Mia, and Alton. You need never
 
 SUNSHINE. 399 
 
 fear speaking of him, though it be in praise. Remember I 
 have lived under the same roof for three months, and love 
 him so much, that I can well understand your loving him 
 almost too much. If all Christian pastors were like him, 
 there would be a different spirit in England now. The 
 seed you are now sowing in Alton will not be lost, but after 
 many years of perseverance and trial, with God's blessing 
 on your labour, may we not hope a little Christian band of 
 rescued souls will, from that apparently barren soil, enter 
 into heaven, there to prove your crown of rejoicing." 
 
 "Dec. 29. Your note has just come. Such brings some- 
 times more comfort and love and healing on its wings, than 
 pages of writing. If much talking is bad, a word in season 
 is rcry good. If God indeed is our God, we do well to 
 rejoice, but very ill to complain of any little passing trouble. 
 It is in the storm and amid the rocks that the Anchor and 
 Beacon are most prized, and many a blessed promise in the 
 Bible would remain a sealed promise, if the key of sorrow, 
 or trial, or temptation, were not sent to open its stores, and 
 send warm to one's heart such words as 'Be of good 
 cheer, it is I, be not afraid.' 
 
 .... "I have been trying lately to like old Jeremy as 
 well as I do Leighton, because Augustus does, but I cannot 
 help finding my greatest delight in the meek and spiritually 
 minded Leighton. Jeremy puts a great staff into my hand, 
 but Leighton does the same, and at the same time puts a 
 rose into the other hand." 
 
 M. H. to L. A. S. 
 
 "Dec. 14, 1831. I am just returned from the top of Old 
 Adam, having thought of you as I can scarce help doing 
 always on those green sloping Downs, with all that wide 
 country spread below one ; and watching, not the busy 
 gleaners and the waggons loading, but the slow, toilsome
 
 40 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 plodding of the horses and oxen at the plough. The soft 
 mild air and autumn gleams make one's position so high 
 above all earthly fogs and smoke as wholesome for mind as 
 body, and I am come home all the better for the pure air I 
 breathed there. 
 
 " Augustus gives an extra lecture this evening to as many 
 as like to come, about the Sacrament, and will have more 
 next week upon it, preparatory to Christmas. He takes 
 increasing delight in this part of his work, as well as in our 
 domestic lecture, and I do hope and trust that God's blessing 
 may attend his labours. 
 
 " The cholera seems gaining ground My really 
 
 greatest fear of future trouble and sorrow arises out of the 
 conviction I have, that such would lead me nearer to God, 
 and that my heart does need often a greater exercise of self- 
 denial, and to be taught a greater dependence on happiness 
 not of this world. I want to be helped to be ever ready to 
 let, ' Rapture, comfort, present ease, as Heaven shall bid 
 them come and go.' One thing I do feel, and that is afte r 
 moments of greatest depression, there comes across me a 
 bright and cheering hope that God will, when the hour 
 comes, He will make a way for us out of the trial, or 
 strengthen and support us through it. As we were reading 
 >n Sunday evening of dear old Latimer's last moments, 
 how glorious did one feel a Christian's end to be, and what 
 the triumph over human impurity and weakness which such 
 a spirit had gained. 
 
 " Last Sunday as Augustus had preached in our church in 
 the morning, he had not been able to write a second 
 sermon for Great Alton, so he took a volume of Bishop 
 Wilson's sermons, which are very plain, up into the pulpit, 
 and after a few words explanatory about the good old man, 
 he read them a very good Advent sermon, with his own 
 little alterations."
 
 SUNSHINE. 401 
 
 " St. John's Day. I longed yesterday to have answered 
 your dear letter, but the sun shone so bright, that, when 
 Shop was ended, I could not resist a ride till our early 
 Christmas dinner. When I came into the house I met 
 Augustus in the passage, his face radiant with joy, and he 
 pulled me into the study to see a parcel just arrived from 
 Aunt Louisa/ containing three most comfortable warm 
 shawls for our three best old women, and a parcel of warm 
 stockings for the men. Cannot you fancy the dear man's 
 happiness over them : I could not guess what had hap- 
 pened. Our Christmas Day was perfect, except that in 
 consequence of some dissension amongst the singers, we 
 were deprived of our waking carol, and I was obliged to be 
 satisfied with the good news being communicated by a voice 
 sweeter to my ears than a more harmonious one would 
 sound to many. Perhaps the moment of greatest joy in the 
 whole day was when I saw the red cloak and black bonnet 
 of little old Hannah Baillie amongst those who were round 
 the altar, and saw and heard Augustus, with eyes full of 
 tears and such a smile of joy, and his voice trembling with 
 emotion, give her the blessed bread and wine. He could 
 hardly say the words, and the afiectionateness of his man- 
 ner to her, and the simplicity of heart with which we knew 
 she was receiving the blessing, were most touching. Poor 
 Mary Brown, alas ! had no heart to come, but I saw her in 
 the evening steal across the fields to church, and I hope 
 she picked out a great deal of comfort and good from the 
 sermon." 
 
 M. H.'s JOURNAL (The Green Book). 
 
 " Jan. 4, 1832. Perhaps it is for me the more 
 
 desirable to have some written trace of my present enjoy- 
 ment left, since I bear about with me a constant impression, 
 a feeling I can hardly give words to. that my present life is 
 
 VOL. i . D D
 
 402 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 as it were a dream, from which I shall be awakened before 
 it has lasted any great length of time, to find myself once 
 more alone in the world, with God only as my refuge and 
 comfort. This is no new feeling or view of things, although 
 it is of course strengthened by the circumstances under 
 which this year has begun circumstances which, I must 
 own, press at times heavily on my mind, far more so, I fear, 
 than a faithful trust would allow of. ' Be not faithless, but 
 believing,' is a charge I too often need as regards temporal 
 things ; for though I have a firm belief that with the trial 
 will come strength meet to support it, if we only seek and 
 ask for it, my faint heart is sadly apt to shrink from the 
 prospect of trial and suffering, and from the possibility of 
 having my greatest earthly comfort and treasure taken away. 
 Most deeply do I feel the weakness of my faith and how 
 little it practically works within me, when fears and doubts 
 and anxieties cross me about a future which is all in the 
 hands of Him who has so mercifully ruled all the past for 
 my happiness, and who will not leave nor forsake me, even 
 should He see fit to call to himself the heavenly spirit he 
 is now preparing for heaven. To that home we are both 
 journeying. Oh ! may we never turn aside from the strait 
 way, but whatever rocks beset our path, may we be per- 
 mitted to tread it together, and may the light, as we go* 
 on, ever brighten before us and lead us on from hope to- 
 hope, forgetting what is behind and beside us, and pressing 
 forward with greater earnestness to the prize of our high 
 calling." 
 
 M. H. to L. A. S. 
 
 "Jan. 22, 1832. Augustus has now an evening school 
 on Mondays, and studies as much for it as if it was a scien- 
 tific work, in all the School-Books, to learn the best mode 
 of drawing out the sluggish understanding of his untaught
 
 SUNSHINE. 403 
 
 lads. It has always been a subject of reproach to me that 
 we had made no attempts to teach this class who are above 
 the Sunday school in age, though far below it in knowledge, 
 and the prospect of confirmation just gives us a handle for 
 instructing them. There are many grown people who 
 express a wish to be confirmed, and we shall not dissuade 
 them, as it affords a pretext for talking and reading to them, 
 and enforcing an examination into the state of their souls, 
 and may eventually lead them to come to the Lord's Supper 
 with fewer scruples and more hope of benefit. Every way 
 opened for one is so good a thing, for it requires some 
 courage, and I fear more boldness than we have, to press the 
 subject on people uncalled for. 
 
 " We dined with the C's. the other day, and at this 
 dinner party an agreement was made amongst the clergy to 
 meet at our house on the loth of February to discuss how 
 they might form a society amongst themselves to meet at 
 stated times and communicate together on professional and 
 religious subjects. The difficulty will be how to make it 
 general enough to admit members of different opinions and 
 degrees of zeal, which, in order to do general good, must be 
 an object; and how to make it, as Mr. Majendie well said, 
 a meeting not like a common dinner-party of neighbours, 
 but one from which each might return home better, and 
 encouraged and stimulated on to further exertion. The 
 hope is that the decidedly uncongenial will not join, and 
 that those who are only a little sluggish and partially asleep 
 may get some little good. 
 
 " I wish you had seen Augustus's grateful face the other 
 day when he had been talking with old Pontin, who came 
 to him for advice about confirmation, and who did express 
 himself so thankfully for all he had received, more especially 
 for thu spiritual instruction he got in the barn. I came in 
 at the moment, and when the good old man left, the room,
 
 404 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 Augustus cried like a child. Truly it is a blessed office to 
 have thus to minister comfort and consolation to the sick 
 in heart, and with even one's weak and imperfect endeavours 
 to be able to do some little good ; and whilst so much 
 remains to be done, and so much is undone, I trust we 
 shall not be tempted to bow down to our own acts, though 
 one must be ever watchful, for of all the deceitful insidious 
 ways by which self sets itself up, there are none more so 
 than through the medium of things done. When there is 
 something tangible to lay hold of, then self erects its head : 
 ' I have done all this, spent this money, or time, or 
 trouble ! ' " 
 
 " Jan. 9. The Master began his sermon on New Year's 
 Day by telling the people what was meant in the world by 
 ' a happy new year,' and then dilated on what he wished for 
 them by the expression, in referring to that blessing as in- 
 cluding all he could most desire to be granted them, and 
 explaining to them all it included. It was a very happy 
 New Year's Day, and the first week of 1832 has been most 
 blessed. Every day we seem to grow happier and more 
 united, and often do I tremble and turn away from the 
 thought that it is so, in dread of its being thought fit to 
 withdraw it from us. 
 
 "I quite long for you to read Neander. To be sure it 
 does make one groan over the change from Early Christi- 
 anity, and yet he is so fair and impartial, he does not in the 
 least attempt to conceal that human nature was then just the 
 same as now, just as prone to set itself up and rest in the 
 change produced by forms, just as ready to slacken its zeal 
 whenever persecution lessened. Neander thinks so much 
 more of the inward than outward service, that you will see 
 he is not very orthodox according to our Church on outward 
 forms of government, &c., but the Christian life he does set 
 forth most beautifully, and I can hardly conceive a person
 
 SUNSHINE. 405 
 
 reading through his book and not feeling more impressed 
 with the feeling and understanding of what spiritual Chris- 
 tianity ought to be, and how it should leaven our whole 
 life and amalgamate itself with our habits. In a passage 
 quoted from Terttillian on the blessings of a Christian 
 marriage, you will, I hope, think of us. About prayer it is 
 excellent. I will quote a passage as a specimen : ' The 
 spirit of thankfulness to a heavenly redeeming Father, the 
 spirit of childlike resignation to Him, the feeling in regard 
 to Him of the needfulness of his assistance, and the con- 
 sciousness of being nothing and being able to do nothing 
 without Him, must animate the whole Christian life. This 
 life must, therefore, be a continued thanksgiving for the 
 grace of redemption, a prayer of constant longing after an 
 increase of holiness by communion with the Redeemer. 
 This was the view of prayer which the New Testament was 
 designed to substitute in the place of that which had pre- 
 viously prevailed.' 
 
 " We never take ' the Sabbath day's journey ' now ; it is 
 too late after church. It is now only in the new orchard 
 walk, and thence we see all the dear people going across 
 the great field in their smock frocks and red cloaks, The 
 church is fuller than ever. 
 
 " Feb. 21. Whenever anything is going on I long to tell 
 you, because I know you will rejoice when we rejoice and 
 sorrow when we sorrow. Augustus has been very busy the 
 last day or two bringing into effect his long-wished-for plan 
 for giving the cottagers each a piece of land for their own, 
 and Maslen having consented to give up a part of our glebe 
 which he rented, Augustus has determined to let it out in 
 lots to every family in the parish in proportion to its size. 
 Gideon, as our ambassador, went round to give notice, and 
 yesterday, after the Shop was over, every man having a 
 house in the parish came, and they all stood round the
 
 406 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 kitchen while the happy rector put down the quantity of 
 land each wished to have, and read to them his conditions 
 and rules, to which they all joyfully consented. 
 
 " It is since I last wrote that the cholera has made such 
 near approaches to us. In consequence, Augustus gave 
 notice on Sunday in church that he had always determined 
 when it came so near, to have weekly prayers in church, and 
 he therefore now told them that it was his intention to have 
 them at half-past eleven o'clock every Wednesday, the 
 time at which he hoped it would be most convenient for 
 them to come, that they were not to be alarmed at the 
 approach of danger, but meet it with the boldness of 
 Christians. And then he told them how the heathen fled 
 from their sick in time of pestilence, and how the primitive 
 Christians nursed them and devoted themselves fearlessly 
 in the service of others ; and after a little further exhortation 
 on how they should feel on this occasion how it behoved 
 them more especially to repent and turn to God in earnest, 
 he said that he hoped those who were not able to come 
 and join with us in church in imploring God's mercy and 
 forgiveness, would, when they heard in the field the church 
 bell summoning us to this service, put up their own prayers 
 for the same purpose. 
 
 " We are looking forward with great impatience to the 
 Feast day, which is to succeed our Fast, and you will fancy 
 how the dear Augustus chuckles over the thought of our 
 dinner-party in the barn, of Becky King, Hannah Baillie, 
 and all the old men in both parishes. They know nothing 
 of it yet. These would seem very egotistical details to any 
 one but you. 
 
 " Wednesday Evening. Our congregation was thirty-five 
 besides children, which was satisfactory, and shows they liked 
 the plan. Of course Augustus chose and shortened the 
 prayers a little, so that they might get to their work in time."
 
 SUNSHINE. 407 
 
 A. W. H. to L. A. S. 
 
 " We have just got Arnold's second volume. As far as 
 I have seen them, the sermons are quite a model : they are 
 aimed with great care and skill at the congregation he is 
 addressing, and he generally hits between wind and water. 
 
 You must read them He ought to be a bishop ; 
 
 though his promotion will occasion a great outcry. An 
 excellent high-churchman said of him the other day, ' I 
 know him and revere his virtues; but I will not buy his 
 book : I may perhaps look into it ; for he is just the man to 
 do incalculable mischief.' So was said of Wilberforce ; so 
 was said of Luther ; so will ever be said of those clear-voiced 
 men whom God raises up from time to time to speak plainly 
 in the ears of his sleeping people." 
 
 L. A. S. to M. H. 
 
 " Alderley, Feb. 1 5. I long to read Dr. Arnold. All my 
 prejudices are in his favour; it seems to me the present 
 times are particularly calculated to keep prejudice low and 
 humble. The narrow road to heaven, though still we are 
 sure as strait as it was when our Saviour described it, is, to 
 the human eye, now so broken up into very narrow lines, that 
 some good men walk side by side, their eye fixed on the same 
 object, their feet avoiding the same stumbling-blocks, but yet 
 with a wall between them, which prevents the more lowly 
 on-creeping traveller from seeing that they are walking 
 together. How differently the world speaks of and judges 
 two such men as Dr. Arnold and Mr. Girdlestone ; and how 
 differently they themselves see human measures and things, 
 yet they are one in spirit, and one in labouring to do all 
 for their Master's glory. Many, we may trust, are loving 
 members of that blessed invisible Church within a visible 
 Church, which Cowper speak' of, who are, to earthly eyes, 
 walking very far asunder.
 
 408 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 " Feb. 28. I open your letters with a little blessing, and I 
 close them with another. From the first day I heard of the 
 cholera being in London, I have said an additional prayer, 
 with my evening one, for you, my darling, that your faith 
 might be strengthened, and that you might be enabled to 
 cast all your care, your one great care and treasure, wholly 
 and entirely on God. The moment I heard of the cholera, 
 I remembered what Augustus said about having prayers, 
 ar.d hoped he would. When I read of the dear people 
 standing round the kitchen, listening to their rector, my 
 heart was as full as if I had been one of them. 
 
 .... "It is very comforting to see how strong the spirit 
 of Protestantism still is in England and Ireland, that if there 
 really is danger, thousands will flock to their post, and as yet 
 a Radical Ministry will not be England's Law. I have felt so 
 often lately how much easier it must be to ' act the martyr's 
 part,' than the patient waiter and truster, how glorious and 
 enviable must have been the last moments of some of our 
 Reformers, their human feelings, knowing what a legacy they 
 were leaving to their country, their heavenly eye seeing 
 what St. Stephen saw. If there is so much dispiriting and 
 sad in the present state of England and Ireland, there is 
 much also most reviving ; and, perhaps, if actual danger 
 should come to England in a political or religious form, all 
 party spirit will be forgotten, and the true Christian Martyr 
 and Patriot again appear united." 
 
 The intimate knowledge which Augustus Hare had now 
 attained of all the family and domestic interests of his 
 parishioners had drawn the tie between pastor and people 
 at Alton so very close ; and the grateful affection with 
 which they regarded him, the warm welcome with which 
 they greeted him on his morning walks (for the very small
 
 SUNSHINE. 409 
 
 size of the place enabled him to visit almost every cottage 
 daily), had brought the Alton villagers so near his heart, 
 that he looked forward with dread to any possibility of 
 separation, and felt that in any other event, except that of 
 the wardenship of Winchester being offered to him, a post 
 for which he felt himself peculiarly qualified, and whose 
 duties he could not venture to evade, he could not endure 
 to be separated from them. No pecuniary advantages could 
 weigh in his mind against the comfort of his quiet home, 
 a home which was not so much marked by any outward 
 site, as its foundations were laid deep within the hearts of 
 his people. Thus the prospect of the rich family living of 
 Hurstmonceaux, in view of which he had married, and 
 which he knew would be offered to him by his brother, 
 upon the death of his uncle Robert Hare, had ceased to 
 afford him any pleasure. Unlike his brothers, whose affec- 
 tions clung around its old castle, and who were attached by 
 the associations of childhood to its every field and wood, 
 Hurstmonceaux had never been his home. He had only 
 been there on occasional summer visits with Lady Jones, 
 and associated the place with his mother's increasing strug- 
 gles against poverty and ill health, and her complaints of 
 the rudeness and uncouthness of its people, who were con- 
 trasted by her with the grateful peasantry, to whom she had 
 been accustomed near her villa at Bologna. He remem- 
 bered also, that his mother herself, as she observed the 
 nervous susceptibility and delicate refinement of her little 
 Augustus, had felt how unfitted he would be to cope with 
 such a people as that of Hurstmonceaux then was, and how 
 much she would prefer seeing him established elsewhere.
 
 410 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 and her quick and ardent Julius in the family living. All 
 these circumstances Augustus had for the last year urged 
 upon his brother Julius, entreating him to take the richer 
 living, when it fell vacant, and to leave him undisturbed in 
 the humble rectory of Alton. 
 
 Since the death of Lady Jones, to whom he had been 
 most tenderly attached, and with whom he had been in the 
 habit, of staying whenever he could get away from Cam- 
 bridge, Julius Hare had had no other home than his beauti- 
 ful rooms in the tower overlooking the Lime Avenue at the 
 back of Trinity College. Here he had rejoiced in the con- 
 stant society of a noble band of friends, Whewell, Worsley, 
 Peacock, Thirlwall, Sedgwick, and, in a younger genera- 
 tion, Sterling, Trench, Maurice, and Cavendish. 
 
 At this time also, the professor of Italian at Cambridge 
 was the Marchese Spineto, whose clever and charming 
 wife had been a Miss Campbell, of Craigie. With her, in 
 great measure, lived her handsome sister, Jane, widow of 
 Sir Thomas Munro, Governor of Madras, who had died in 
 India in 1827. A close intimacy with the Spinetos led, 
 two years after his separation from his cousin, Mrs. Dash- 
 wood, to the second engagement of Julius Hare, with Lady 
 Munro an engagement which lasted for many years, far 
 into his Hurstmonceaux life. 
 
 JULIUS HARE to M. H. (Inserted here as belonging to the subject.) 
 
 " Trinity, August 30, 1831. I have two long letters to 
 thank you for, dearest Maria, and both of them, especially 
 the latter, are exceedingly delightful and affectionate. The 
 subject of tha' latter one being so much the most important,
 
 STUXSHINE. 411 
 
 I will say a few words about it first Much that Augustus 
 said, and many of your arguments, have had very consider- 
 able weight with me. If my blessed mother's plan was 
 really such as he says, and events, in spite of apparent 
 obstacles, have thus, in a manner, been working together 
 for its fulfilment, I should be most loth to hinder it, for the 
 slightest expression of her will would be to me like the law 
 of heaven. The greater fitness of a small parish for 
 Augustus's health, I also admit. I believe, too, there is a 
 greater likelihood of working with efficiency in your parish 
 than at Hurstmonceaux, where, from all I hear, the flock 
 are in a very wild state, almost at enmity with their 
 shepherd. Your farmers again are a good deal more tract- 
 able than my uncle's. All this, on thinking over the matter, 
 I see clearly ; but on the other hand, I do not like to 
 think of you shut up for life in that beautiless, uninteresting 
 country, with your no garden. The house might do very 
 passably ; but the no garden to me would be an insuperable 
 objection. However, of course it must rest with you to 
 balance between the advantages and disadvantages of your 
 present station ; if, when Hurstmonceaux becomes vacant, 
 you still prefer remaining where you are, it will then be my 
 duty to think about taking it. Remember, however, that 
 nothing that has passed is to be considered by you as 
 imposing any obligation upon either of you. You are at 
 the most perfect liberty to change your mind to-morrow, 
 next month, next year, or whenever the living falls ; you excite 
 no expectations in me, no wishes, and consequently you will 
 disappoint none. I am always averse to forming plans, to 
 making decisions about the future, which the very next 
 month may utterly frustrate ; and more especially in the 
 present state of England, how impossible is it to calculate 
 what will be the state of any living in England, or whether 
 there will be any livings at all, next year ! If the Birmingham
 
 412 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 political union take it into their heads to say there shall 
 not, our ministers and our parliament will crouch before 
 them, and execute their decree. So far as concerns myself, 
 I should be very sorry were any event to happen soon 
 which would take me away from my present station. And 
 this leads me to your very kind sisterly admonition. Now 
 both you and Augustus seem to me to have forgotten that, 
 according to the principles and the universal practice of 
 our Church, the education of youth at both schools and 
 universities is especially entrusted to the care of her 
 ministers ; so that he who is engaged in that office is 
 labouring in his vocation. These principles and this prac- 
 tice seem to me to be perfectly justifiable and right. It is 
 a narrow notion of the duties of the Christian ministry to 
 conceive that a Christian minister is not following his 
 calling unless he is employed in pastoral duties; though 
 these are perhaps the noblest and heavenliest part of his 
 office. So that if you tell me I am not performing my duty 
 as Christ's minister, I will answer, Yes. But that is owing 
 to my own weakness and waywardness, and is no way 
 chargeable on the post where I am standing. It is per- 
 fectly true that the welfare of England, perhaps her very 
 existence, depends mainly on the activity and zeal of her 
 ministers, and on God's blessing prospering their en- 
 deavours. But it is also of great importance, more especially 
 at this season of the intellectual chaos, that the fountain- 
 heads of knowledge should be under proper care, and that 
 the young men who go forth by hundreds every year to act 
 in their several callings, should be duly stored with sound 
 principles. Such being the case, I think it may fairly be 
 left open to any individual to select that sphere of the 
 ministerial duties on which he chooses to enter ; supposing 
 his choice be regulated, not by caprice or indolence, but by 
 a cr 1m weighing of his own qualifications, and of the good
 
 SUNSHINE. 413 
 
 he is likely to accomplish. Now it seems to me that the 
 task I am engaged in is of all others the one I am best 
 fitted for, by such talents and acquirements as I possess ; 
 and little as may be the good I do here, I think God has 
 so constituted me that I might do more good here than I 
 could in any other station. At the same time, by peculiarly 
 fortunate circumstances of time and place, by being in this 
 glorious college, and having such noble contemporaries, I 
 am most singularly blest. Severa 1 times in the course of 
 last summer, in conversing with persons I became acquainted 
 with, and hearing them speak of their situation, did my 
 heart bound with gratitude for my singularly favoured lot. 
 It would be a sad exchange to give up my beautiful rooms, 
 my friends whose converse strengthens and steadies my 
 mind, and the brother of my heart, Worsley, whose bright 
 face kindles a feeling of the same sort in me every time he 
 enters my room, whose step is so gladdening a sound on 
 my stairs, for the dismal, solitude of that great, big house, 
 with not even a cottage within half a mile of it, and not a 
 soul nearer than my friend Townsend at Brighton, with 
 whom I should have a thought in common. I speak with 
 the utmost sincerity, when I say I do not think I should 
 make an efficient parish priest. I know not what, but there 
 is an incapacity about me for conversing with the lower 
 orders ; part of it may be constitutional ; habit may have 
 much increased it ; the very nature of my pursuits, of my 
 studies and speculations, withdraws me more than others 
 from the commerce of ordinary thought. I find a great 
 difficulty in carrying on a conversation except with a very 
 few of my friends : my thoughts don't seem to move in the 
 same line as theirs ; my views, my interests, seem to be so 
 different ; it is hard to find a point of union. This grows 
 upon me year by year. I know not how to check it ; and I 
 fear I should never ge" ever it. I fear I should never learn
 
 414 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 to talk to the poor as they ought to be talked to ; in time, 
 perhaps, I might learn to preach to them ; but that you 
 know is a very small part of what a parish priest has to do. 
 Thank you again, dearest Maria, for your very kind, sisterly 
 letter. I have tried to show you that it is not mere selfish- 
 ness that makes me averse to exchange, and that I am at a 
 post where, if I work zealously, I shall be acting the part of 
 a Christian minister. At all events, you will see that it is 
 very, very questionable whether you would be consulting 
 my happiness in placing me at Hurstmonceaux; and 
 therefore you must not allow such a notion to have any 
 weight with you in refusing it." 
 
 The news of Mr. Robert Hare's death arrived at Alton 
 on the zyth of February, 1832; but, before that time, 
 having obtained the consent of his brother Francis to the 
 transfer, Augustus had secured the promise of Julius that 
 he would accept the living of 'Hurstmonceaux. Both 
 brothers went into Sussex to attend their uncle's funeral. 
 Thence Augustus returned happy to Alton, and Julius made 
 up his mind to leave Cambridge, but decided upon spending 
 a year in Italy before entering upon the duties of his parish. 
 
 M. H. to A. W. H. 
 
 " Feb. 29, 1832. The eight o'clock coffee is just finished 
 such a good new loaf, pity the dear master is not here ! 
 And now I may talk to the dearest Aug. without fear of 
 interruption. He knows full well how the fountain is bub- 
 bling up at the very thought of him, and how ready it is to 
 pour itself over on the paper. I should like to know where 
 you are this evening, whether at some dirty inn, or at 
 Julius's Rectory. God be with you wherever you are, and 
 watch over you, and bring you safe back to the loving wifie,
 
 415 
 
 the dearest, the Mia. I think she cannot ever have loved 
 you before when you have been away. It was only make- 
 believe. Now it is real, if there is reality in anything." 
 
 M. H. to L. A. S/ 
 
 " Feb. 29, 1832. You will guess what we felt on Monday 
 when the packet of letters came in, and three with black 
 seals at once convinced us what had happened. Certainly, 
 the first sensation was joy, to think that everything was 
 settled, and that there was no longer a question left about 
 our leaving Alton. We could not help putting ourselves in 
 a different situation, and fancying what we should have felt 
 had it been otherwise ; and I think Julius would have been 
 quite satisfied had he heard us, that we had acted for our own 
 comfort. I daresay with the additional income we should 
 not have been able to do half so much for our people there, 
 and so much would have had to be spent in unprofitable 
 ways ; and when we were vainly striving to excite some 
 feeling amongst a scattered people living at a distance, how 
 often should we have thought of our little family at Alton 
 with regret and sorrow. No ; I am quite certain we have 
 decided for our own happiness, and, hoping as we do,- that 
 it may be a means of calling forth all Julius's power for the 
 good of others, I cannot think we have been wrong in fol- 
 lowing our own inclinations." 
 
 "March 13 (Sunday men ing). This has been so beautiful 
 a day, that as I was walking about the fields between services, 
 and studying my afternoon's lesson for the children, it made 
 me seem to see you and your class under the trees on those 
 lovely summer Sundays last year. I do love a fine Sunday ; 
 it seems to cheer and lighten the way to God's house, and 
 fill one's heart with deeper thoughtfulness, to know all alike 
 can enjoy it; and the dear Augustus was so earnest, anc?
 
 416 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 applied his subject so home, that I do trust the seed might 
 not fall quite in vain on some hearts present." 
 
 L. A. S. to M. H. 
 
 " Alderley, March 3, 1832. I do hope, dearest, you have 
 indeed chosen best for your own happiness, as you surely have 
 for those around you ; and we will hope that Hurstmonceaux 
 will be no loser. . . . Tell Augustus, that when I read the letter 
 which fixed him at Alton, I lit a large bonfire in my heart, 
 round which all the old men and women and little boys and 
 girls of Alton shouted and danced for joy. 
 
 " I have read almost all Arnold's ' Sermons,' and like 
 them much. They are like ' Watts's Hymns for Children,' 
 so beautifully simple, yet containing all the deep truths of 
 religion." 
 
 JULIUS HARE to M. H. 
 
 " Trinity, March 9, 1831. Your sisterly letter came at a 
 time when it was most acceptable ; for, finding that half 
 measures, as usual, were good for nothing, I betook myself 
 to my bed altogether last Friday, determined not to leave it 
 till my foot had regained its usual dimensions. You will, 
 perhaps, tell me that my malady was sent to convince me 
 that a college is not quite such an Elysium as I appeared to 
 fancy, and that, at all events, it is a bad place to be ill in. To 
 be sure, as Worsley is not here, I have had a very great num- 
 ber of lonely hours these last three weeks, seldom interrupted 
 except by a flying visit of inquiry or two ; and with no 
 great aversion to solitude, still, not being in a plight for 
 hard-working, I should not have been sorry to have heard a 
 little more of the human voice. The letters of my friends, 
 however, and especially, as women know best how to com- 
 fort a sick-bed, o r my female friends, have supplied me with
 
 SUNSHINE. 417 
 
 a delightful substitute for it ; and among them, yours has 
 chimed in very sweetly with those I have received from 
 Anna and Lady Munro. What I said to Augustus will have 
 proved to you, that unless he has changed his mind, w-hich 
 I did not think likely, mine is made up. As I was talking 
 to Thirlwall on the subject the other day, and speaking of 
 ray happy removal hither, and of the well-spent ten years I 
 have passed here, he said, ' Yes, this has been a very 
 pleasant Purgatory ; may your next removal be to a 
 Paradise 1 ' This struck me the more, superstitious as I am, 
 from its coincidence with the expression I made use of in 
 my letter to Augustus. Be this however as it may, whether 
 Hurstmonceaux is to be a paradise to me or a wilderness, 
 or, as is more likely, something between the two my lot is 
 now cast. I am to quit this goodly college, with all its 
 goodly inmates, and to take up my rest there, in all proba- 
 bility for life. Indeed, when I have once grown familiar to 
 it, I think hardly anything in the world would ever induce 
 one to leave it. I agree entirely with you, that ' a life of 
 mere literary activity is not all that is required from a 
 minister of Christ's Church ; ' indeed, for my own part, I do 
 not think a life of mere literary activity can be wholesome 
 for anybody, it ought always to be combined more or less 
 with practical activity. If I were not engaged in tuition, I 
 would grant to you that my present life is not suited to my 
 profession ; but, by the practice of our Church, as well as that 
 of the Roman Catholic, the education of youth has been con- 
 signed almost exclusively to the clergy; nor do I think it 
 xit all desirable that the clergy who are employed in this 
 task should combine it with the cure of souls. That this 
 practice of committing education to the clergy is wise and 
 .wholesome, I do not think you will deny : if you do, I will 
 leave Augustus to prove to you that it is so ; but this you leave 
 wholly out of sight in your objections to my merely literarv 
 
 VOL. I. E E
 
 41 8 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 life. The question then ought to be, there being these two 
 posts for a clergyman to fill, for which I am the fittest, 
 naturally and by my acquirements ? 1 fear such a question 
 must be answered in favour of my staying where I am, so 
 that I have many scruples of conscience to mingle with my 
 numerous personal regrets. However, as it is the sad 
 wedding that makes the happy marriage, so he who feels no 
 pain at leaving one home, is never likely to find, and in- 
 deed does not deserve, to find another. Happy are they 
 who discover objects of interest and attachment wheresoever 
 it pleases God to place them ; and I believe He has blest 
 me with the power of doing so in rather more than an 
 ordinary degree. 
 
 " It was singular that it was only on the Saturday night J 
 sent to Thirlwall the last page of our second volume of 
 ' Niebuhr,' containing our little prefatory note, and on 
 the Sunday morning I heard of my uncle's death. But 
 there is still a third volume to come ; and I am already en- 
 gaged in the Philological Museum, which, though I trust it 
 will not stop, will hardly go on so well when I am removed 
 from its immediate superintendence ; yet I should be sorry 
 to see it discontinued, now that, after having been so many 
 years projecting it, I have at length started it, and in such 
 flourishing plight. Perhaps Thirlwall will undertake some 
 portion of the editorial cares, as, I rejoice to say, he is to 
 succeed me as lecturer, and probably in my rooms, unless 
 Whewell does so, so that I shall have a rich fulfilment of 
 that noble prayer : ' May my successors be worthier and 
 better than I.' However, while these rooms are still mine, 
 you must positively come and see them. I should like to 
 have the leaves out when you are here, so that you may see 
 my avenue in its beauty ; and I should like too, if possible, 
 to manage that you should be here with Lady Munro."
 
 SUNSHINE. 419 
 
 M. H. to L. A. S. 
 
 "Alton, March 19, 1832. I have enjoyed a little visit to 
 Oxford much, partly because I saw so many people that it 
 was pleasant both to see and hear, and partly from the 
 pleasure of seeing the dear Aug. so pleased. Many of 
 the people you will not care to hear about. They were 
 interesting to me chiefly from having for many years been 
 associated with Augustus, and from the interest they seemed 
 to feel in seeing him again. But there were one or two 
 people that I wished for you to see and hear with me. One 
 was Mr. Pusey, the Hebrew Professor. I had a good deal 
 of conversation with him, and was much delighted with his 
 extreme goodness and modesty. All he said about the 
 poor, about a country clergyman's life, of which he spoke 
 with envy, was so right feeling, and his manner was so 
 encouraging, that I felt as if I could have said anything to 
 him ; there was truly in him the humility of deep learning. 
 He talked to Augustus about Neander, with whom he had 
 lived as much as he could when in Germany, and said it 
 was of such as him he was thinking when he praised the 
 theologians of Germany, and not of the Rosenmiillers, &c., 
 whom he had been accused of favouring. 
 
 " Another person, not less interesting, Augustus took me 
 to call upon Blanco White. He is sadly out of health, and 
 was walking up and down his little room, wrapt in a great 
 cloak, and complained of being unable to do anything. 
 However, after a little time he got animated, and forgot his 
 grievances. At first his good English would make one 
 forget he was not an Englishman, but by degrees the 
 foreigner showed itself in the cast of countenance, action, 
 and, when animated, by a little hesitation in bringing out 
 his words. He spoke of the work he is now writing on the 
 Inquisition, and said he had been tracing the origin of it in 
 persecution up to the times of Theodosius, but he said it
 
 42O MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 was very painful and irritating to his feelings dwelling upon 
 it. ' They are not dead, these old fathers ; they are every 
 one of them living. I see them all.' He talked a good 
 deal of Whately, who was a great friend of his ; and then 
 got upon the signs of the times, and that he thought 
 everything was at work for a change, and of course in the 
 struggle, evil must be produced, and would perhaps for a 
 iime seem to overbalance the good, but he had a confident 
 hope good would prevail just as a body in a state of fer- 
 mentation appeared to be in one of decomposition ; that the 
 error of the present interpreters of Prophecy seemed to him 
 of the same nature with that of the old Jews, when they 
 looked forward to the temporal kingdom of Messiah on 
 earth. There was a remarkable mildness and suavity of 
 manner mixed up with his energy, reminding one of the 
 Spanish priest, whilst his evident sincerity and enlightened 
 views showed how he had broken through the bondage. 
 
 " Living in a college seems to me much like living in a 
 magnificent prison, being surrounded by such high walls, 
 but the Warden of New College has a very good house, and 
 it is pleasant being there. I think, on the whole, my im- 
 pression of Oxford was even much more favourable than I 
 had expected ; that there certainly are a great many who 
 are very excellent and labouring to do good, whilst many 
 who sometime ago would have been content with the form 
 of godliness, are by degrees being leavened with a much 
 larger portion of its spirit? 
 
 A. W. H. to L. A. S. 
 
 "March 25, 1832. The dear Luce will probably like to 
 hear a little about our Fast and Feast. We got back from 
 Oxford just in time to allow of my preparing a sermon on 
 Lev. xxiii. 27, as a kind of preface to Wednesday's service. 
 Monday and Tuesday passed much like other days, except
 
 SUNSHINE. 421 
 
 that two of the farmers told their men they should be paid 
 for a day's no-work on the Fast-day, provided they came to 
 church, and kept away from the beer-shops. How many 
 came for this promised pay, and how many from a right 
 feeling, I know not though from the interest which they 
 manifested about the Fast, I hope and trust the right motive 
 predominated. But, between the two, the church was filled 
 fuller than it has ever been in my recollection, excepting on 
 the first Good-Friday after our coming to Alton. Unluckily, 
 I was rather out of voice ; however, by the help of singing 
 'a hymn proper for the day,' I got through my long service; 
 and, during the sermon, the interest gave me back my 
 lungs again. The text (I know you like such little par- 
 ticulars) was from Luke xxi. 34 36. The subject was first 
 an exposition of the chapter, and its division into its main 
 parts, namely, the destruction of Jerusalem, and the tread- 
 ing down of the Jews till the times of the Gentiles are 
 fulfilled ; the signs which are to intervene between the 
 fulfilling of those days and the coming to judgment ; and the 
 practical lesson which the text affords of the conduct to be 
 pursued by us, if we would not be taken unawares. The 
 practical lesson, of course, formed the main part, in its two 
 branches of drunkenness on the one hand and worldly cares 
 on the other, and I never saw the people more attentive. 
 Our Fast was kept on vegetables, the servants abstaining 
 voluntarily from dressing meat for themselves as well as for 
 us. In the evening I had a supplementary lecture in the 
 barn ; so passed the day. And then came the Feast. There 
 had been all sorts of consultations ; what should be 
 ordered ? and who should be asked ? But we will suppose 
 them well over the ox's head and skin for soup, and the 
 cut of the I forget what for boiling, safely brought into 
 the larder ; and the guests invited ; and Mary busy pre- 
 paring the savoury viands. ' But where is the suet for the
 
 422 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 puddings? It is two o'clock. Very odd of that butcher 
 disappointing mistress. Betty Perry, step over to All 
 Cannings, and see why they have not sent it ? ' Thus spake 
 the careful Mary, but the assisting Betty did not disobey 
 her word, but she stept forth, and stept, too, pretty hastily, 
 for she was back again from All Cannings in an hour and 
 a quarter with the long-expected suet : so active are people 
 when they go upon their own errands, and serve with a 
 ready will. We had Majendie to dine with us, and J. 
 Sloper, too, rode over, which made us a large party in 
 the drawing-room waiting the announcing of the com- 
 pany. And now the door opens, and John says, ' Please, 
 ma'am, they are all come ; ' and the dear wine has put on 
 her cloak, and we are all gone together into the barn, 
 where, ranged on the two sides of the long table are stand- 
 ing three old Kings, and old Hailstone, and old Perry, 
 and old Hams and John Swanborough, and Becky King 
 and her good man with the large appetite and weeping 
 eyes, and Hannah Baillie, and Sally Browne, eleven in all. 
 And at the top and bottom of the said table were tureens 
 of good, rich, substantial broth ; with Sloper at one end, and 
 the Master at the other, to help the same. And now the 
 Master has said grace, and the standers have become sitters, 
 and the spoons are in full activity; and Majendie and the 
 dear wife and Mary are waiting upon the full-mouthed 
 guests. And they are all looking very happy, and saying 
 that this will be a day to talk of, and drinking our good 
 health, as the sober mug of beer is set before them. After 
 the broth came the beef, and then the puddings, which I 
 think were the favourite part of the feast ; and then another 
 grace, and we are once more in the drawing-room, pleased 
 at having been able, and with how very little money and 
 kindness and attention, to please so many of our people. 
 And so, having finished my story, what remains but to wis/
 
 SUNSHINE. 423 
 
 the dear Luce good-bye, and to commend ourselves and our 
 parishes to her prayers. 
 
 " (M. H.) The dear Master's report will not preclude my 
 say, lor he has not told what two dear, appropriate graces 
 he uttered before and after the Feast, nor how the old men 
 raised up their hands together as he said them, and prayed 
 for a blessing both on the receivers and givers, and joined in 
 their hearty amen ; nor has he told that of the remnants six 
 families have had an abundant meal sent home to them to- 
 day. You may fancy the delight the dear Aug. took in his 
 evening ; and I scarcely ever felt more thankfulness, more 
 love, not for the dear people, nor for the precious husband 
 but for Him who gives the means and inspires the will. 
 How I wished for you on Wednesday. You would have 
 liked the sermon much, and would have spent the day to 
 your heart's desire. The chief part of the sermon was 
 urging the necessity of making the day a symbol of our 
 future life by greater self-denial, more continual prayer, and 
 deeper humiliation, that it might not pass away in a few 
 hours' service, and that perhaps lip-service, but in a real 
 fast of the heart. 
 
 " April i. We have, though not as yet actual death, 
 dangerous sickness before our eyes just now, and our last 
 two days have been taken up almost entirely by attending 
 three sick-beds. One of them is at Stanton, whither in 
 Mr. Majendie's absence they sent for Augustus yesterday 
 morning, to a poor sick-boy of seventeen, who had had 
 a horrible accident ; falling from a hay-cart on the sharp 
 teeth of a harrow, which went in through his back four 
 inches, and of course his torments were excruciating. Both 
 times when Augustus went yesterday he was scarce able 
 to speak, except in ejaculations of ' Lord, have mercy 
 on me ! ' but his father's account was very touching, 
 how he had prayed, and how he had warned him about
 
 424 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 his future life ; and once, when he woke from a doze, 
 he said ' Father, I have been a long way. I saw in my 
 dream a great hill, and there was a narrow path up it, and 
 I wanted to go along it, but there were so many bushes on 
 both sides I could not get along, and I saw Christ at the 
 top calling me to him, but I could not get to him till He 
 held out his hand and helped me.' Is not this a singular 
 and touching story? The father never left him, while 
 the mother and sister were going on, unconcerned, with 
 their work below stairs, only seeming to grieve over the loss 
 of the father's day's work. 
 
 " Of our own two cases, one is the blacksmith's daughter, 
 a young pretty girl of sixteen, who lived with Miss Miller 
 as servant, and came home a few days ago with constant 
 sickness, which has now turned to inflammation on the 
 brain, and I can hardly think there is a chance for her. 
 She was quite insensible herself to-day, but after helping 
 to hold her whilst the doctor bled her for the third time. 
 Augustus and I knelt down with the poor afflicted father 
 and sister, and he prayed for her and for them, and more 
 sincere prayers, I am sure, were never uttered. Augustus 
 could hardly get through them, much less wish them good- 
 day afterwards. Our other patient, poor James Powell, 
 is nearly in the same state, and I believe from the 
 same cause inflammation on the brain. Both these 
 cases show how vain is the hope of administering 
 spiritual comfort even, and much less spiritual instruc- 
 tion, in dangerous illness. Neither of them could even 
 join in the prayers, but for the survivors it is a call that 
 may not be in vain, and some words uttered in such 
 moments, when sorrow has opened the heart, may go home 
 with God's blessing on them. You may suppose how 
 wretched poor Avis Powell is ; and really here, where we 
 live so much amongst and with the people, two such case:;
 
 SUNSHINE. 425 
 
 of affliction throw quite a sadness over everything. I 
 suppose were we oftener summoned to sucji scenes, the 
 heart would grow in some degree hardened to them, but 
 we have had so few of them, that Augustus was quite worn 
 by the feelings they excited. Poor Prudence I feel the 
 more interested for, because she has all winter been one of 
 my Tuesday's confirmation class, and seemed to take such 
 interest, and be so grateful for all I taught her : she ap- 
 peared to be a thoroughly good girl, and perhaps to one in 
 her rank of life this may be taking her away from the evil to 
 come. When the poor have strong feelings, it is the more 
 touching, because they come out so naturally, and the 
 father's hard features, moistened by tears, following so 
 anxiously to know what one thought of his ' darling ' (so 
 he called her), and so resigned to think it was best if God 
 did take her, were very hard to hear unmoved. We have 
 just sent John off to Pewsey (eight o'clock), to carry the 
 last news of the poor patients to the doctor. Augustus is 
 about his sermon ' Though I walk through the valley of 
 the shadow of death,' and I have tried to make you 
 present with us by setting before you the subject of our 
 thoughts and employment to-day and yesterday. In re- 
 turning from such sick-beds, how grateful do I feel that 
 hitherto God has in mercy spared us such anguish. When- 
 ever the time comes, as come it must, when we too shall be 
 tried, we shall have your prayers, dearest Luce, and He 
 who is our rock and fortress will be with us and support us 
 through every storm. 
 
 " Sunday Evening. This morning Augustus sent Gideon 
 off to Devizes for Dr. Brabant, that nothing might be left 
 undone ; and he came whilst we were at church, and pro- 
 nounced both cases to be utterly hopeless. Poor James is 
 not so insensible as Prudence, but only seems occasionally 
 to recognise those around him. When Avis said to him to
 
 426 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 day, ' Do you hear Mr. Hare praying by you, James ? ' he 
 muttered, ' I shall soon hear more than I have ever done 
 yet ! ' but generally he appears quite unconscious of who is 
 there, and only holds up his hands, as if praying inwardly, 
 You may suppose how solemn a day this has been with us 
 all ; how my first class wept over their dying companion 
 as I touched upon her state to them; how Augustus alluded 
 in his sermon to the two cases of extreme sickness, and be- 
 sought all to be ready ; and how many tears were called forth. 
 If anything can touch those hitherto careless, surely death, 
 when it calls the young and healthy and the stout and robust, 
 as James was a year ago, must preach most powerfully. 
 
 "April 17. Two hours ago I watched the remains of poor 
 Prudence consigned to the grave ashes to ashes. It was 
 such a lovely evening, and the view of the hills above the 
 little cottages from Great Alton churchyard in the still 
 evening light, with Augustus standing over the grave, read- 
 ing those fine words, and the group of people all round, 
 sobbing their responses, was truly a sight not to be 
 forgotten. I do not wonder at the effect of field preaching. 
 There is a solemnity in the scene where the sky is above 
 one and nature all round, that is far above the most 
 hallowed aisle. It is an affecting sight to see a young 
 maiden borne as this was by young men, and the white 
 sheet carried over the bier by eight young girls all dressed 
 in white, with white hoods over their bonnets. In this case 
 also the bearers were true mourners, and wept bitterly over 
 the loss of their companion, and besides her own family, 
 there was scarcely a dry eye in the church, which was nearly 
 full of people. Augustus took the opportunity, and in a 
 few touching words, after the lesson i5th Cor. was ended, 
 addressed the congregation assembled. Pointing to the 
 coffin where lay the body of her who one little fortnight 
 since looked forward to life with as much confidence as the
 
 SUNSHINE. 427 
 
 healthiest amongst us, and who was now called away almost 
 ere she had entered life, he said how only two days before 
 he had been called upon *x> perform the same office over a 
 man in the prime of life. He was cut off without more 
 time for preparation than this delicate flower which had 
 scarcely blossomed. Could any one say that the summons 
 would not call him next ? Could any trust that he should 
 have longer warning granted ? Could any feel that he was 
 ready ? Which did they think of the hours spent by this 
 young girl did she now look back upon with most pleasure 
 and delight, those spent in idleness and wasted in folly, 
 or those devoted to her God ? Be it then our care so to 
 pass our days here, that when, like her, our earthly forms 
 are laid in a narrow box, we may look back on hours of 
 piety and devotion, and that no dreams of wickedness may 
 disturb our rest. Something to this effect was said. Then 
 as we went out of church he spoke a few words of comfort to 
 the poor afflicted sisters and brothers and father. 'Re- 
 member, my good friends, that those who sow in tears 
 shall reap in joy.' The mother was too ill to attend the 
 funeral, a great sorrow to her, poor thing, for they consider 
 these things so much. Her grief is very touching, for it is I 
 am sure hallowed by the true source of comfort. She kept 
 up as long as life remained, and never left her darling's bed, 
 watching her with such intensity, never heeding my going 
 in, but addressing to the poor unconscious girl such words 
 as these ' Yes, you are going to be a blessed angel in 
 heaven with your dear Saviour, are you not, my child ? ' 
 Both she and poor James died the same day. It was or 
 Sunday evening that we followed him to his last home 
 Avis and her five children were there. His illness had 
 excited great interest amongst his fellow-labourers, and God 
 grant tbat the softened hearts which shed so many tears as 
 his body was consigned to the grave, may bear in mind that
 
 428 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 they like him may at the last have no time for making their 
 peace with God. The 4oth Psalm was, by his own desire, 
 sung during the funeral service, and a hymn over his grave. 
 .... These to others might seem trifling details, but 
 you will be interested in them, knowing how we live as one 
 family with our people, and really the last week these two 
 families have excited all our interest and sympathy. I 
 quite longed for you at the funeral to stand with me by 
 my earthly treasure, and pray for me that strength of faith 
 and love may be ours daily more and more till we are 
 called hence too. I think I could have stayed by Prudence 
 as I saw her this morning in her coffin for hours, she looked 
 so calm, so peaceful, and there is something so mysterious 
 in death. Is it not curious that my last lesson to her was 
 that very chapter of Cor. xv." 
 
 L. A. S. to M. H. 
 
 " Alderley, April 13, 1832. By this time, I think, poor 
 James Powell can be no longer one of your living congre- 
 gation, but, if he is gone to God, if he should be the first 
 shock of corn gathered from the little field given in charge 
 to Augustus, we may now see how his illness of last 
 summer was sent to prepare his soul for its long journey. 
 How well I remember Augustus telling us one day, after 
 one of his visits there, that he had been teaching him ' I 
 must work the will of Him that sent me whilst it is day 
 the night cometh when no man can work,' and how much 
 struck he seemed with it. The night has soon come to 
 him ; God grant it prove to him eternal day. Tell Avis, 
 with my best comfort, I prayed for her and her family this 
 morning, and send her this verse from which every Christian 
 family may take comfort. ' Leave thy fatherless children, I 
 will preserve them alive, and let thy widow trust in me.' 
 Since I left Alton, I have been so daily in the habit of
 
 SUNSHINE. 429 
 
 following you in all your known and fancied pursuits, that I 
 feel as much with you in all you tell me, as if I was really 
 there. During prayers, I have so often found myself walk- 
 ing up the hill towards that white cottage. I used to carry 
 so light a heart up that dazzling hill. I do not think the 
 happiness of any one creature was ever so thoroughly felt 
 by another, as yours by me. Everything you speak of, joy 
 or sorrow, hope or fear, I instantly see reflected in my own 
 heart ; and I do feel it a blessing that the never-failing friend 
 of my early life has a husband, whom to know well, is to 
 love. I cannot in the least describe the effect knowing him 
 has on my mind the sort of effect that it is to the eye, 
 looking out on a landscape through an orange-coloured 
 glass window, that makes everything look sunny." 
 
 JULIUS HARE to M. H. 
 
 " Trinity, April 4, 1832. Alas, what sad tidings the 
 papers contain ! The mightiest spirit that this earth has 
 seen, since Shakespeare left it, is departed. But he departed 
 just like himself, in the perfect healthful possession of all 
 his faculties, as a man who has fulfilled the duties of the 
 day, and falls into calm sleep after it : and even his last 
 moments were moments of enjoyment, he was just express- 
 ing the pleasure he felt in the genial warmth of the spring. 
 What a pleasure it would be to possess the arm-chair in 
 which Goethe closed his eyes, after having gazed on all 
 that this world could produce, and behold, ' to him it was 
 very good,' and I doubt not that to the very last moments 
 he felt the truth of his favourite stanza : 
 
 ' Liegt dir gestem klar und offen, 
 
 Wirkst du heute froh und frei ; 
 Kannst auch auf ein morgen hoffen, 
 
 Das nicht minder gliicklich sey.'
 
 43 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 Dear, glorious old man, would I had seen him before he 
 was taken away ; would I had heard his voice, and beheld 
 the calm majesty of his face. 
 
 "What if the thought has just struck me we erect a 
 joint Hare monument to our mother and aunt in Hurstmon- 
 ceaux church ? That would be appropriately a Hare monu- 
 ment ; and I think it seems likely to be the place with which 
 we are to be most intimately connected, and if there is to be 
 another generation of us, we may teach them to venerate 
 the two blessed sisters, our double mother." 
 
 On April 25, the news of Marcus Hare's return to 
 England reached Alton, and the rector left for Plymouth 
 the next day to meet him and preach on board the 
 Southampton, the admiral's flag-ship, to the commander- 
 ship of which his brother had lately been appointed. He 
 rejoined his wife at Sheen, and they afterwards went 
 together to pay their long-promised visit to Julius at 
 Cambridge. 
 
 A. W. H. to M. H. 
 
 " Devonport, May, 1832. Marcus says that when the 
 Crocodile sailed for Sydney, they left one of the crew in 
 hospital there, with a dog that was much attached to him. 
 On they sailed, and no one thought any more of the man, 
 till one night the sentinel came to the officer on watch 
 while they were off Van Dieman's Land ' Very strange, 
 
 sir, but M has just walked up the gangway, and his dog 
 
 with him.' Then came one of the seamen 'A curious 
 
 thing has happened, sir ; I saw M just now standing 
 
 between these two guns.' The seaman said nothing about 
 the dog, and there had been no communication between 
 him and the sentinel. This became the common talk of
 
 SUNSHINE. 431 
 
 the ship, and they found on their arrival at Sydney that the 
 man had been buried the evening he was seen, and, what is 
 a curious coincidence, the dog had been missing at the time 
 for two or three days. This last fact was mentioned by 
 Colonel Lindsay, in whose hospital the seaman had died, 
 and who came on board to inquire into the story, it had 
 been so much talked of." 
 
 L. A. S. to M. H. 
 
 "May 3, 1832. Have I not followed you closely, my 
 Mia, all through this last week ? Did I not see Augustus 
 open the letter, and give the jump ? and did you not hear 
 me wish him joy of the arrival of 'the dear Marcus,' whom 
 I have heard him speak so much of? and did I not see you 
 sending him off to Plymouth, trying to persuade yourself to 
 get through a few days without him, which I will give you 
 full credit for having managed very ill ? " 
 
 M. H.'s DIARY. 
 
 11 May 12. To Cambridge. Trinity College. Dr. Whe- 
 well to dinner. 
 
 " May 13. Sunday. Sermon, Professor Scholefield and 
 Mr. Rose. To the Marchesa Spineto. 
 
 " May 14. Mr. Kenelm Digby to breakfast. To 
 Babraham. Dinner in Julius's rooms. Thirlwall, Rose's, 
 Spineto's Whewell, Romilly, Air/s. 
 
 "May 15. Library. King's College Chapel. Dined 
 Thirlwall's. 
 
 "May 1 6. Breakfasted Mr. Rose. Called Marchesa 
 Spineto. Mr. Landor to dinner. Dined Marchesa's. 
 
 "May 17. Mr. Sedgwicks. Luncheon Marchesa's. 
 Dinner WhewelFs, Professor Smythe, Rose's, &c. 
 
 "May 1 8. Left Cambridge."
 
 43 2 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 I.. A. S. to M. H. 
 
 " May n, 1832. I have been looking in Heber's journal 
 for all he says of Lady Munro. How highly he speaks of 
 her, and the estimation in which she was held, also her 
 beauty and pleasing manners. She must be the most 
 likely person possible for Julius to like. You would like to 
 have such a sister and one who knew Reginald, too, in 
 India. Now, dearest, I have written enough to show that 
 I think of my darlings when they are absent from their 
 cage, but shall much congratulate them when they hop into 
 it again, and the song is sung, and the perch returned 
 to," 
 
 " Aldcrky, May 26, 1832. At this moment you are 
 returning to Alton, and are, perhaps, descending Bull's long 
 hill oh, no, I forgot, you come the other way or you 
 may be just turning in through the gateway, or standing at 
 the drawing-room window, feeling, I need not tell you how, 
 while the Aug. is gone to visit his pig, and his cow, and 
 his meadow, and now you may, for a while, forget the king- 
 dom full of troubles, and lead the life you best love. I 
 could scarcely be more with you at present than I am in 
 fancy this evening, and Mary is rejoicing, and Brute is sitting 
 erect for joy, and the quince-tree is in full leaf, ready for 
 another swarm of bees. 
 
 " I mean this letter to get to you on the 2nd of June. 
 How I shall be with you on that day I need not say. I 
 shall creep after you to the study, go through the service 
 with you as you read it with your dear husband, then collect 
 the flowers in Mrs. Pile's garden, and get the table ready 
 for the children. I shall not long to be with you ; but be 
 happier thinking of you at a distance than I was present 
 last year, for then, oh how much less I loved you both 
 than I do now.
 
 SUNSHINE. 433 
 
 M. H. to L. A. S. 
 
 " Alton, May 26, 1832. I have no need to say one word 
 of description to my dearest Luce. On many an evening 
 as lovely as this have you sat out with me on the little 
 peaceful grass-plat, and listened to the blackbirds, and 
 enjoyed the extreme quiet and shade of our little home. 
 On many such an evening have you walked up the toilsome 
 hill, and sucked in greedily the little breezes of fresh air 
 that met one at the top; and then, when we had come 
 down the green path of the corn-field, we called in at Brown's 
 cottage, and found John with prayer-book or Bible in his 
 hand, and said a few words of comfort to poor Mary. Just so 
 have the dear Aug. and I spent this delightful close of a 
 summer's day, and often does it make me think of you, to 
 return so exactly to the blessed days of last year, only 
 wanting you to enjoy them with us. Nor did we the less 
 miss you as we drove along the lanes yesterday evening in 
 the Dull carriage, and I could almost have fancied you 
 seated in the vacant seat, repeating Keble as we went 
 along. The joy of getting home, and in such weather, was, 
 as you may guess, very great ; for we have been in so many 
 different places, and seen so many people, that it seems a 
 very long time since we went away, and, surely, no pleasure 
 we have had during our absence has given us half the 
 gratification of hearing poor sick Charles Gale's expressions 
 of joy at hearing our carriage-wheels, and thinking it must 
 be Mr. Hare, or of being told by so many that they have 
 ' missed us desperate' Yet, much as we enjoy our return, I 
 do not regret that we have been away. It is wholesome, 
 both for mind and body, to have the variety and change of 
 scene, air, and society, and gives us food for future reflec- 
 tion, as well as making us begin our work here again with 
 greater zest from the temporary break. I believe it is quite 
 necessary, for one's own individual good, to mix occasion- 
 
 VOL. I. f F
 
 434 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 ally in the concerns of Earth. It draws forth other, and 
 often more trying, points of character than are called out in 
 retirement, and is very humbling to one's inner man in show- 
 ing how hard it is to be tolerant when others differ from us, 
 how difficult to be charitable when one's own standard is 
 not followed. That we are, not from any merits of ours, 
 but from God's good pleasure, placed far away from the 
 temptations and trials of the world, I do most gratefully 
 feel as a most merciful privilege and favour; but, at the 
 same time, I am fully aware that there remain temptations 
 and trials within us, quite sufficient to make us watch and 
 fear, and that we must be more diligent in our inward 
 search, since the outside has much less need of cleansing ; 
 and I do not think I ever return to our happy life without 
 feeling as if the absence had strengthened and confirmed me 
 in my love for heavenly things, and taught me to know 
 myself better. 
 
 " Julius's rooms at Cambridge are most perfect, looking as 
 they do down that glorious avenue, and the Gothic windows 
 are filled with beautiful geraniums, &c. ; his walls literally 
 lined and papered with books, except one side, over the 
 fire-place, where Raphael's ' Madonna and Child,' and two 
 or three other good pictures are. I fully enter into his 
 feeling of the unworldliness, the freedom from care, the 
 leisure afforded by such a life, and with him the warmth of 
 friendship keeps alive the affections, which, in general, 
 must lie dormant in a college; yet I shall be much sur- 
 prised if, after two or three years of his country life at 
 Hurstmonceaux, Julius has not received more of real happi- 
 ness than in many years at Trinity." 
 
 L. A. S. to A. W. H. 
 
 " June 2, 1832. Dearest Aug., to-day one year ago I 
 heard you say the grace for the school children on the lawn
 
 SUNSHINE. 
 
 under the cherry-tree, and I felt from that moment I should 
 like you. It seems a very little while since this day last 
 year, yet in its course we have both had many joys and 
 little troubles, now passed away; and on looking back 
 nothing seems to have been really of consequence, but 
 how we have done God's work. You have both been fed 
 in green pastures, and in leading others to the waters of 
 comfort, have been yourselves refreshed and nourished, and 
 may there be a deep well now filling at the door of your 
 hearts from those very waters, to uphold and strengthen 
 you when God shall call you to a more arduous task than 
 that of feeding His lambs and enjoying His mercies. It 
 does not lessen your present happiness to be prepared for 
 a change ; and who can look on England now, and not 
 involuntarily turn round to see if the sword and armour be 
 ready ? I always think of you both, as the two, not best, 
 by I hope many hundreds, but quite as the two happiest 
 people in the world, in your lot and perfect oneness of mind. 
 It is always a holiday to my thoughts when I let them have 
 a ramble to the dear Alton, only they would be there 
 much too often if I did not keep them in order ; but on the 
 2nd of June they are to be with you all the day." 
 
 A. W. H. to M. H. 
 
 "June 2. 
 
 "No youth ere drank his exiled prince 
 
 So zealously as I drink thee, 
 
 No nun ere hung around her cross 
 
 So fondly as I'll cling to thee. 
 
 " What words ! a wife by God's own hand 
 
 To man the last, best present given ; 
 Love the religion of the heart, 
 The only foretaste here of heaven."
 
 436 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 M. H. to L. A. S. 
 
 " The happy Alton Rectory, June 2. The evening of this 
 blessed day is come, and our dear Luce is sharing our 
 thanksgiving over its third anniversary. Never were three 
 years more rich in mercies, more sparing in trials and 
 troubles; and how can we be grateful enough or loving 
 enough for being so tenderly treated ? You know, and none 
 so well, all the cause we have for blessing and adoring God 
 that He has brought us together and permitted us to serve 
 Him, and, 'by love's supporting power, to cheat the toil 
 and cheer the way ; ' and it is a comfort to think that we 
 have your prayers that we may not make this our earthly 
 home the only one to which we look, but that we may press 
 onward, feeling in every added mercy an added link to that 
 chain of love which should bind and unite us to our 
 heavenly home ; that so our future pilgrimage, be it set with 
 roses, as the past has been, or, as is perhaps more likely, 
 with thorns, may still be leading us heavenward, and that 
 our union may be perfected and completed hereafter. I 
 was almost afraid we might have a wet day from the showers 
 of the last two, but the sun shone as brightly as on the last 
 2nd of June. The table and benches were spread under 
 the cherry-tree, with chairs for the lookers-on ; the jars of 
 flowers placed upon the table ; the children, consisting of 
 twenty-four girls and seven of the little boys, arranged in 
 order. Then came the Master, and said a grace resembling 
 the one of last year in substance, only with the addition of 
 a few verses read first out of the parable of the marriage 
 supper. After the second grace the children sang their 
 hymn, and then all the little ones performed their little 
 exercises, and so ended the feast. After the company had 
 walked round the orchard, they took their leave, and my 
 darling Aug. and I were left to ourselves. Whilst he betook 
 himself to his sermon in the afternoon, I went to fulfil his
 
 SUNSHINE. 437 
 
 duty of reading to poor Charles Gale. I do not know 
 whether you remember him quite a young man, with a 
 wife and three little children, but since last summer he has 
 never been out to work again, and is now in that slow, 
 lingering consumption, which wastes away day by day, with- 
 out any severe pain, though he suffers much from weakness, 
 &c. He has, however, none of the false excitement and 
 hope of life which usually attend this disease, and has for 
 some time felt that he was beyond the skill of any earthly 
 physician. A more humble and grateful patient I never 
 visited, and as he is able to read, and takes great delight in 
 it, he is far better taught than those we have generally to 
 deal with. Whilst we have been away he has read quite 
 through the ' Pilgrim's Progress,' and he talks of all the dif- 
 ferent parts quite as if they were realities. He was very 
 much interested too in Hooper. He is so very thankful 
 for being taught, and says he never missed anything so much 
 as ' not seeing Mr. Hare,' while we were absent. He has 
 not much of the joy of believing ; he mourns so much over 
 his own want of love, and that, from his weakness, he can 
 pray so little : and he said to-day, 'When God is so merciful 
 to me, and has done so much for me, it seems so bad not to 
 love him more. Ah, this is the grief! ' But his sorrow is 
 a much softer and more Christian sorrow than poor Mary 
 Brown's, and though he has not an assitred, he has a com- 
 fortable hope, I think, at times, and is turning to his Saviour 
 as his only trust and confidence. His poor wife sits by with 
 a sick child on her knee, that will scarcely outlive its father, 
 and I would fain hope that she is learning where she must 
 seek for hope and comfort when her trials come, as they 
 must shortly do. 
 
 " There was a wedding this morning to celebrate the day. 
 and the bells have been ringing quite suitably. It has been 
 such a warm evening, and the boys have had their supper
 
 438 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 under the cherry-tree, too, at eight o'clock ; and now bed- 
 time is come, and I must end my talk with you, and rest 
 my tired body to be ready for to-morrow and its duties. 
 
 " Monday. It was the most delightful day yesterday, and 
 our new church arrangements answered very well. We had 
 a very full congregation in the morning, when Augustus 
 preached on Psalm Ixviii. 18. In the afternoon all the 
 Stanton people (the church there is being rebuilt) came with 
 Mr. Majendie to Great Alton Church. Augustus went, and 
 I stayed at home to teach the children, for which it gave me 
 a nice long time. We dined at four, had a pleasant rest 
 for reading on my part on your seat in the garden, and for 
 Augustus to walk about and meditate on his lecture till a 
 quarter before seven, when Little Alton church bell again 
 called us together, and we had a very full church. Aug. 
 made variations in the lessons for the benefit of those who 
 had heard the regular ones at afternoon service, and, instead 
 of a written sermon, he took up Arnold's sermons, and took 
 one of those on Faith as his groundwork, adding a great 
 deal of his own, and it had in fact all the impressiveness of 
 an extempore sermon, to which I have no doubt he will, 
 after a little practice, get used in this sort of way. Nothing 
 could do better, and earnestly did I entreat a blessing on 
 his words, that some of those listening so attentively might 
 take them home. How the dear Luce would have enjoyed 
 her Sunday ; but perhaps one spent less agreeably would 
 have been more profitable, for outward advantages often 
 make one less watchful, and it is not in proportion to the 
 external that the internal work goes on. To those who 
 have to teach others, too, it is more difficult to turn one's 
 thoughts home and learn for one's self, and I find myself 
 thinking so much oftener of what will benefit others than of 
 taking the lesson to my own use, that there is its danger 
 even in every duty.
 
 SUNSHINE. 439 
 
 " Our laburnums are in such beauty they make the place 
 look so gay." 
 
 " The Luce Scat, June 21. Before me is the large 
 field, and just beyond it the tower of Great Alton Church 
 peeping out of the trees ; on one side of the field old 
 Maslen's farmhouse, on the other side a bit of our wee 
 church. The great elm- tree spreads its shade over my 
 head, divided from me now by no fence, only a gravel walk, 
 running along on one side into the orchard, and on the other, 
 through an archway of honeysuckles, round the corner to 
 the flower garden. And here I sit, where Luce so often 
 used to sit, where so many Greek lessons have been said, so 
 many newspapers grieved over, and so many comfortable 
 words read from the Book. Scarcely could I believe it 
 another June ; for in the field behind me the Master is hard 
 at work in his hay, and all our little household are engaged 
 in making the most of one of the finest of summer days. 
 
 I am sure it will need little exercise of fancy in 
 
 you to place before you the dear Master looking so 
 pleased over his work, and singing his chirping notes of 
 joy as the sun shines, and the pleasant breeze gives 
 assurance of the safety of his favourite hay. Nor will 
 you have any trouble in picturing the bustle yesterday, 
 just after dinner, at the news .of an approaching storm, 
 and how the walking haycocks were speedily seen tra- 
 versing the field and uniting into one rick, the tall, thin 
 bearer bending under his load as he went along. Nor 
 would you less have been present a few days since, when 
 we were called out by a swarm of bees around the house. 
 They clustered round the chimney, and made an' alliance 
 with the former occupiers, and we concluded they were 
 from our own hive ; but up came a man soon after to 
 claim them, and our own we found afterwards in the 
 hive. When they swarm, I do not expect that anybody
 
 440 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 will let us keep them, for everybody" comes here after 
 their bees, so fond are they of coming to our garden. 
 
 " Poor Charles Gale is dead. He had not seemed any 
 worse the day before when I was with him, but he has 
 left behind his weak and suffering body, and I trust his 
 soul is in that rest for which he so earnestly longed, and 
 yet to the last so much feared, lest it might not be for 
 him. Such assurance of hope as many seem to possess 
 is not given to all, but I think one cannot doubt that 
 where the heart is looking to Christ, and trusting to Him, 
 and doubting only from the greatness of personal humi- 
 liation, the obscurity and dimness which hides the glory 
 from the earthly body will all be removed the moment 
 the spirit quits its weak tabernacle here. I have always 
 been accustomed to incline to think perfect assurance 
 either a presumptuous feeling or a gift to but a few 
 favoured servants of God, though fully aware that it has 
 been constantly united with the deepest humility 
 
 " Friday. What a change of weather since yesterday ! 
 Instead of bright sunshine, and summer's sky, all is gloom, 
 and wind, and rain, and the poor master's hay must take its 
 chance. We were all set to work in a great hurry yesterday 
 afternoon, and they got a good deal carried before the rain 
 began." 
 
 " July 1 8. We have had a great alteration made in our 
 little church, which is such an improvement. That little 
 arch which hid the pulpit and its inhabitant from all the 
 chancel end has been taken away, and a large opening 
 made, which gives room for two pews in addition, and 
 will enable every one to hear and see. We have been 
 obliged to have service in Great Alton Church for two Sun 
 days, and next Sunday our own will be re-opened. Aug. 
 means to speak about the change, and take for his text a 
 verse out of 2 Kings x. 21 'And the house of Baal was
 
 SUNSHINE. 441 
 
 full from one end to another ; ' showing how the church 
 may be filled, and yet not by worshippers of God, and that 
 the purpose of it is not for people to stand and sit uncon- 
 cerned with all that is read or spoken, as so many seem to 
 think. Our Sunday is now a very busy day, for between 
 the morning and evening services, that is, in the afternoon, 
 Aug. catechises and lectures the class of young men and 
 women for confirmation from two till half-past three or four ; 
 then we dine, and have service again at seven, with a sermon 
 more especially addressed to the young persons, and a good 
 deal put in extempore." 
 
 L. A. S. to M. H. 
 
 " Leamington, f une 12, 1832. On Whitsunday we went 
 to hear a Baptist minister, who preached ' in a large upper 
 room furnished,' the last time we were here. They have 
 now built him a chapel. There was nothing finer there 
 than a straw-bonnet ; the singing was literally singing God's 
 praises; and his sermon the pure simple truth as it is in 
 Jesus. Here we shall go while we stay at Leamington ; for 
 a church is only a building unless it has a soul, and the 
 church here has no soul. 
 
 " Nothing can exceed the attention and tenderness of Dr. 
 Jephson. He has come regularly every day since I wrote 
 last ; and every time we see him, we feel our interest in him 
 increase. An old and venerable clergyman who was at the 
 door yesterday when he came in, said to him, ' Ah, doctor, 
 if you would but take my medicine as readily as I take 
 yours.' " 
 
 L. A. S. to A. W. H. (After a remonstrance from him 
 upon her attending the Baptist Chapel.) 
 
 "Leamington, June 27, 1832. Yes, all the world of 
 Leamington do fill the Church of England Chapel every
 
 44 2 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 Sunday, twice or once, to receive dispensation and en- 
 couragement to commence another week of vanity and folly. 
 There stands at the door a boy, with a heap of dirty tickets 
 in his hand, and a man stops pulling the bell, and says, ' do 
 you want a pew? give that boy a shilling, and he'll give 
 you a ticket.' You give your shilling, and a clerk, in ap- 
 pearance and expression a close resemblance to Mephisto- 
 pheles,and who walks about all church-time serving Mammon, 
 takes your ticket, and shows you into a crowded pew. I 
 suppose "it is possible, when there, for some few so to abstract 
 their minds from the present scene, as to worship God in 
 spirit and in truth, but / cannot do it. Woe unto you, if 
 you look up, you find a hundred pair of eyes, under the 
 smartest bonnets, looking about as if at a spectacle. I can- 
 not be so independent of my senses, when I hear the 
 mockery of worship, as to gain the least benefit from any 
 part of the service : it seems to me that it is making an idol 
 of the church, if we do not make a difference, according to 
 how it is served. If one was starving, and saw a palace, 
 with a fine service of plate set out, but no food on it, and 
 just opposite, a wretched mud cottage, with good food on 
 pewter plates, would not the hungry traveller enter the mud 
 cottage and eat. The blessed little Baptist Chapel here is 
 the mud cottage, and Mr. Coles the means of leading many 
 souls to Christ. . . . But there is no fear of the most ex- 
 cellent Baptist minister who ever preached, making me 
 desert the Church of England. Every time I go, I feel mort 
 strongly how beautiful our service is, and, in my own parish, 
 I would not leave my parish church for any dissenting 
 chapel ; but here, where I am unknown, with no ties, no 
 duties to leave, I feel it would be turning my back on a door 
 which God himself had opened, if I did not go thankfully to 
 Mr. Coles' chapel"
 
 SUNSHINE. 443 
 
 A. W. H. to L. A. S. 
 
 " I am sorry to hear so bad an account of the Church a ( 
 Leamington ; but it is one of the advantages of our good 
 Church, that we (meaning by 'we' the educated) are 
 only very partially dependent on the qualifications of the 
 minister. If he can read, and most clergymen can do that 
 much, he must read the liturgy, all his stupidity, if he be 
 stupid, all his carelessness, if he be careless, cannot un- 
 make that into anything unscriptural or undevotional. And 
 as to the sermon, Herbert has said enough about that ; you 
 know Who, according to him, when the preacher is incapable, 
 takes up the text and ' preaches patience.' 
 
 " The day after to-morrow, Julius reads in at Hurstmon- 
 ceaux. God speed him in his new vocation ! I cannot regret 
 that he should be likely to travel with Landor, though I do 
 regret the abuse I hear of the latter. Southey, and when I 
 mention him I mention one of the first literary men in Eng- 
 land as to sterling moral worth, has the following passage 
 about Landor in his ' Vindiciae Ecclesise Anglicanse.' ' Walter 
 Landor, whom I have pride as well as pleasure in calling my 
 friend.' And this is the man who has been described as being, 
 'without honesty and principle ! ' I wish that I could speak 
 publicly in defence of a man whose heart I know to be so large 
 and overflowing ; though much of the water, from not having 
 the branch which Moses would have shewn him thrown into it, 
 has unhappily been made bitter by circumstances. But when 
 the stream gushes forth from his natural affections, it is sweet 
 and plentiful, and as strong almost as a mill-stream. For his 
 love partakes of the violence of his character ; and when he 
 gives it a free course, there is enough of it to fill a dozen such 
 hearts as belong to the ordinary man of pleasure, and man 
 of money, and man of philosophy, and to set the upper and 
 nether mill-stones in them a-working. The loss of Mis- 
 solunghi, a friend of his who was at Florence at the time
 
 444 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 told me, made him ill for a fortnight. ' He ought to have 
 been more resigned,' some respectable man would say at 
 hearing this. Perhaps, sir, he ought : perhaps he felt too 
 much : but what shall we say then of those who felt too 
 little, who felt nothing? what shall we say of the tens and 
 hundreds of thousands of Englishmen who did not eat a 
 mouthful of toast, or drink a spoonful of tea the less, for 
 hearing of the subversion of a Christian fortress, and the 
 destruction of its heroic garrison by hordes of barbarous 
 unbelievers ? And what I so strongly feel is, that while our 
 estimate of ourselves must be the strict standard of the 
 Gospel, our estimate of others must be comparative. He 
 who feels any wrong, or cruel, or base thing more than 
 others, and would go further to prevent it, must always have 
 my good word. And being such a one, I must continue to 
 value Walter Landor, while praying that the good he has 
 already may be improved and hallowed, and that from being 
 a man of men which he now is, he may be changed and 
 lifted into being a man of God. Doubtless, there are pas- 
 sages in his ' Dialogues ' which I should wish away ; and 
 amongst them, most of his attacks (and they are incessant 
 where the subject admits of them) upon Popery. I do not 
 like pulling and tugging at even a decayed branch of a fruit- 
 tree, lest the tree itself should be shaken, and some of the 
 fruit should drop ofid"
 
 XII. 
 THE SHADOW OF THE CLOUD. 
 
 " A religious life is not a thing which spends itself like 
 a bright bubble on the river's surface. It is rather like the 
 river itself, which widens continually, and is never so broad or 
 deep as where it rolls into the ocean of eternity." BEECHER. 
 
 TN the summer of 1832, Miss Clinton spent a month at 
 Alton, where her warm affectionate interest in all that 
 went on made her a general favourite. With her, the 
 Hares had more enjoyment of the natural advantages of 
 their home than they had ever yet done, making many 
 pleasant little excursions in the "Dull carriage," or long 
 rambles amongst the Downs, taking "Jack" the pony, 
 and riding it alternately, and then stopping to sketch. 
 During these expeditions, Miss Clinton's vivid perception 
 of the beauties of nature, and her power of seizing and 
 making the most of the picturesque and interesting points 
 which even the dullest landscape affords, seemed to open a 
 new world to them. 
 
 In the middle of August, Miss Clinton returned to 
 London, and a few days after, the Hares left home to join 
 Mr. and Mrs. O. Leycester, and be their guests at Tenby, 
 instead of the annual visit to Stoke. When they reached
 
 446 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 Swansea, after a very stormy passage from Clifton, they 
 found the cholera raging there. In the next house to the 
 inn they first went to, a number of people lay dead and 
 dying, and the friends, not allowed to enter the doors by 
 the town regulations, were standing in an agony outside, 
 waiting for news. To their relief, they found, after some 
 hours, that the hotel where the Leycesters expected them 
 was in another part of the town, and they moved thither ; 
 and the following day, by carriage to Tenby. Cholera was 
 at that time supposed to be exceedingly contagious : the 
 favourite remedy was a glass of port wine, with twenty drops 
 of laudanum, to be taken on the first symptom. 
 
 The remembrance of the summer at Tenby was always a 
 source of peculiar pleasure to my dearest mother, because 
 she thought that when they were together there, her father 
 first learnt to appreciate and love her husband, to whose 
 marriage with his daughter he had given a most reluctant 
 consent, and with whom he had never got beyond a mere 
 outside acquaintance, during the short summer visits at 
 Stoke. She greatly rejoiced in the sensation which was 
 created in the little town, whenever her husband preached 
 in Tenby Church, as an opportunity of showing her father 
 and Mrs. Oswald Leycester how much he was appreciated 
 by others. And for herself, the summer was filled with days 
 of entire enjoyment, spent in rambling with him amongst 
 the rocky coves, sketching in their caverns, or in longer ex- 
 cursions to Pembroke, and Carew, and to Manobeer, where 
 Augustus cut his name, and that of his Mia upon the ruin, 
 and declared that if she were taken from him he should 
 return to live there as a hermit, as the most utterly desolate
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE CLOUD. 447 
 
 place that he knew. Each day's companionship increased 
 the delight which they derived from each other, anJ their 
 entire unity already began to make their friends tremble as 
 to Avhat the effect of any separation might be upon the one 
 who was left. This was peculiarly the case with Lucy 
 Stanley. Speaking of the life which the Parrys (see page 
 228) were now leading at Tahlee, in Australia, she wrote 
 at this time : 
 
 L. A. S. to M. II. 
 
 " Their happiness so much resembles yours. The foun- 
 dation is the same the oneness of mind, the sunny view, 
 ever seeing the bright side of things ; and if Bella is en- 
 trusted in her children with the one blessing withheld from 
 you, she has to set against it, in her anticipations of the 
 future, the thought that this is probably the most peaceful 
 spot of her whole life, as from the very nature of his pro- 
 fession and character, it is unlikely that he will sit down 
 idly even by the happiest domestic hearth, as long as there 
 is anything to be done in the service of his country. You, 
 darling, have a ' happy warrior,' whose arms you may help to 
 brighten, and who is most at his post when by the side of 
 his own ' wifie,' and in the midst of his people. May God 
 bless you a\\four, and long continue to others the happiness 
 of rejoicing in yours." 
 
 M. H.'s JOURNAL (" The Green Book "). 
 
 " Tenby, Sept. 23, 1832. Why is it that ruins of old build- 
 ings, independently of their picturesque effect to the eye, 
 interest and please us so much ? May it not be that they 
 form a link between God's works and man's, having by time 
 and the operations of nature become harmonized, softened, 
 and in some sort likened to rocks and picturesque objects
 
 44^ MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 of natural beauty, whilst retaining the associations of former 
 animate life ? awakening within us imaginations of what has 
 been, and calling up those feelings of sympathy for times 
 gone by, and people who have lived before us, which in the 
 ordinary course of life are altogether put aside. The sus- 
 picion and jealousy with which a pious mind perhaps is 
 inclined to look at the works of mere man's creation, is 
 here lulled to sleep, by the approach which such remains of 
 former glory seem to make to works fresh from the 
 Almighty hand. There is none of the hardness, the limita- 
 tion, and the consideration of worldly interest, visible in the 
 broken fragments left, which in a complete building fit for 
 present use seems to draw the mind only to earth and its 
 cares and pursuits. All harsh lines are done away, and the 
 roof of open sky seems to connect the perishing materials 
 of earth with the hopes of heaven. God's finger seems to 
 have been at work here, no less in causing the decay of 
 human art, than it appears elsewhere in the formation and 
 arrangement of what are styled Natures works, and 
 wherever that finger is clearly visible, then one is inclined 
 to admire in adoration. Jf we looked deeper into things, 
 doubtless we should oftener trace that finger ; but we are 
 very much influenced by external things, and look not 
 within : else how much should we find to glorify God in, 
 from the works of man proceeding as they do from the 
 most glorious work of God, the mind of man." 
 
 M. H. to L. A. S. 
 
 " Tenby, August 29, 1832. Whilst you are enjoying the 
 rocks and waves in your bays at Penrhos, I am delighting 
 in them here. Our large drawing-room has a balcony over- 
 hanging a little garden ; the said garden has steps imme- 
 diately leading to the rocks, over which at high water the 
 waves eddy and rush just as they do on yours : aud at low
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE CLOUD. 449 
 
 water there are delightful sands for a couple of miles all 
 along the shore. There are the ruins of an old castle on a 
 promontory forming one side of the Bay of Tenby ; and 
 the rocks on the other are beautiful in colour and form. 
 Then on the other side of the castle rock, where we are' 
 situated, we have the open sea before us, with a very fine 
 rocky island called St. Catharine's close to the shore, and 
 many caverns amongst the rocks, which are at the base of 
 the houses. There are a great many people here, but they 
 are not in one's way ; and if the weather becomes fine, we 
 shall find many a snug seat amongst the rocks and little 
 bays or on the old ruins. I never saw a sea-place I thought 
 so enjoyable or beautiful in itself as this, uniting so many 
 advantages." 
 
 "Sept. 9. Our days here pass by so quickly. How I 
 should like to have had you by me last night as cloud after 
 cloud, black and heavy as pitchy night herself, sailed over 
 the beautiful moon, which from under them all shone so 
 
 bright in the sea Our Sunday temple for this 
 
 evening has been amongst the rocks, watching ' the mighty 
 waves of the sea,' as they came rolling up, one bigger than 
 another, or dashing with their white curling foam over the 
 rocks. They are now still raging and fuming below our 
 windows, and the moonshine is sparkling most brightly on 
 the wide sea beyond ; but I will take my eyes off to talk 
 with the dear Luce whose heart has doubtless this day, with 
 ours, been raised up in grateful adoration to Him ' who is 
 mightier than the noise of many waters.' We have not 
 hitherto had much stormy weather on our side the coast, 
 and it is one advantage of this place that one may always 
 go to a calm or a windy shore as one pleases, by choosing 
 opposite sides of the town. There is not a great deal to 
 see in the neighbourhood, which I rejoice in ; for I grudge 
 the time not spent amongst the rocks and caverns here, and 
 
 VOL. I. G G
 
 450 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 I find endless subjects for drawing. We have been to see 
 one old castle, Manobeer, and Augustus was so delighted 
 with its lonely situation, he settled how if he lost me, he 
 should like to fit up a couple of rooms and spend two or 
 three years there, with no other companions than his books 
 and the sea-gulls. He has hitherto been occupied since we 
 came, chiefly in transcribing his Visitation Sermon for the 
 press, and he makes himself very happy here : his delight 
 in the waves and rocks is quite as great as mine, I. think, 
 and we enjoy seeing this fine scenery, the first we ever saw 
 together." 
 
 "Bath, Sept. 28. A Quakeress came with us in the 
 packet from Tenby to Bristol, and I had a great deal of 
 conversation with her. She was a druggist's wife, but we 
 should never have detected any lowness of origin from her 
 conversation : it was so sensible and full of love that all 
 want of polish seemed done away. She told me so much 
 of their discipline and modes of proceeding, and gave me 
 some of William Penn's tracts. The gratitude she expressed 
 for my talking so much to her, and the over-estimate she 
 had formed of me during our voyage, quite humbled me. 
 I wish I could tell you all our conversation. She said her 
 heart yearned towards me from the first, when I sat near 
 her in the packet, long before I spoke." 
 
 L. A. S. to M. H. 
 
 " Penrhos, Oct. 3, 1832. \Velcome back to Alton, my 
 Darling. In your ' goings out and comings in ' I follow you 
 in spirit very closely. If you saw how I read your letters 
 over and over again, in the house, in the tower, on the 
 
 rocks, you would think they were well bestowed 
 
 I am now come up into my tower for the morning, a wild 
 stormy day, with driving rain, and break up of the summer 
 weather. I have just read the chapter for the day, and I
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE CLOUD. 451 
 
 hope you have done the same ; I like to think the same 
 verse may perhaps be encouragement and comfort to each, 
 though in a different way. The verse I stopped at just now 
 was, ' and He saw them toiling in rowing, for the wind was 
 contrary to them.' It has been my case lately; though out- 
 wardly our sea may look smooth, and the temptations and 
 hindrances be such as the world cannot understand, we 
 may nevertheless be ' toiling very hard,' feeling the wind to 
 be so contrary, we scarcely make any way at all. And then, 
 if the winds from without lull a little, a heavy ground-swell 
 from within comes on, and the poor vessel almost forgets it has 
 an Anchor ready, and a Haven worth all ' toiling ' to attain. 
 
 "There is no verse in the whole Bible that again and again 
 comes to me with such support as ' Be of good cheer ; it is- 
 /, be not afraid. And He went unto them into the ship, 
 and the wind ceased.' Who ever followed Christ, and 
 could not say, Yes, many times He has come into my ship, 
 and the wind has ceased, whether it came from ' fightings 
 without,' or from ' fears within ? ' 
 
 " Last Sunday but one I went to my ' Chapel on the 
 Rocks,' and when I came to the end of the Epistle,! saw under 
 it written, 'Alton, Sept. 4, 1831,' the last dear Sunday I spent 
 there last year, and I shut my eyes to see that little church, 
 and that blessed and beautiful countenance, and the Mia by 
 my side, and the naughty school-children, and the old 
 attentive faces; and then I opened them again on the 
 broad blue sea before me, and thanked God who had given 
 them another year of such happiness as few of His ungrate- 
 ful creatures will let themselves enjoy, for He gives the same 
 materials to many." 
 
 M. H. to L. A. S. 
 
 " Alton Rectory once more, Oct. 9. The last day of the 
 fine weather, Dull brought me safe home from Bath, and a
 
 452 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 delightful drive it was, with the thoughts of Alton and the 
 dear husband before me. There he was in the Devizes 
 road, all ready to welcome his Mia after our three days ; 
 of separation. You may guess how joyful a Sunday ours 
 was, with Augustus in the pulpit, and all the listening old 
 men and women, in the place of fine bonnets and gay 
 
 gowns I have a new plan which I hope will turn 
 
 out useful. It is to have a weekly meeting in Gideon's 
 cottage for as many mothers of families as like to come. 
 They are often unable to go to church, and most of them, I 
 suspect, too ignorant to learn much when there, and if I go 
 to their cottages they are generally engaged in washing or 
 something unfriendly to one's doing any good. Betty Smith 
 seemed quite delighted with the proposal, and said she 
 knew many who would be glad of it. So on Thursday, at 
 two o'clock, I am to have the first. Perhaps the dear 
 Master will give us a prayer. 
 
 " I am sure there is a good in one's absence from home 
 and the break in one's regular duties, one returns to them 
 with so much greater zest, the people are disposed to be 
 more pleased when they have missed us much, and one 
 begins as it were afresh with renewed hope and energy, 
 Jeering all the more how blessed a privilege it is to be 
 allowed to work together as labourers, however humble, in 
 the vineyard." 
 
 " Oct. 29. Augustus had a most melancholy letter from 
 Mr. Rose the other day upon the prospects of the Church. 
 .... As far as the Church of Christ is concerned we 
 know that she stands on a rock not to be shaken, and, if 
 persecutions do arise, I doubt not many will be strengtht ned 
 and confirmed in their faith, and much latent zeal wilt be 
 drawn forth. But for England as a nation, if through love 
 of wealth, or expediency, or principles of worldly economy, 
 such as those advocated by political economists, and nowa-
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE CLOUD. 453 
 
 days even by women (Miss H. Martineau for instance), it 
 casts off that beautiful Christian edifice which has bound 
 together jarring interests and forced upon the people that 
 instruction they would in many cases be slow to seek for ; 
 or if, by lowering the condition of its clergy, it leaves the 
 higher classes to the influence of all the temptations of their 
 situation, without reverence for those appointed to teach 
 them, what will she have to answer for, and what hand but 
 that of a merciful God can carry us through the evils she 
 may expect to draw upon herself?" 
 
 M. H.'s JOVRXAL (" The Green Book "). 
 
 " Alton, NIK<. 3. How immediately self enters into every- 
 thing we think or do ! If we are in the course of duty led to 
 any exertion, however small, we are apt to be puffed up by it, 
 ' I have clone this,' ' I ought to be thanked.' A return of 
 good crop is expected from the seed sown, and often there 
 arises a secret wish that others should know what has been 
 done. Now this is not that love ' which seeketh not her 
 own,' and of all its characteristics I suspect this is the 
 hardest to make ours. Poor and worthless as we may feel 
 ourselves in the abstract, or when comparing ourselves with 
 the standard of Truth, I fear in particulars, in the detail of 
 our lives, we are but rarely conscious how little we are. 
 And why is this ? Because ' we compare and measure our- 
 selves by ourselves,' that is by others weak as ourselves and 
 who may do less. And even this would not be so unfair a 
 rule as we make it, if our imaginations would only invest our 
 fancied inferiors with the advantages and trusts committed 
 to us, and suppose what they would do then. But we take 
 people as they are, with all the circumstances of their rela- 
 tive positions unallowed for, and compare our own doings 
 with theirs, and take credit to ourselves for the contrast, 
 without bearing in min-l that our talents may have been
 
 454 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 five and theirs one. And truly it is an awful thought to 
 consider that God's justice must weigh the means vouch- 
 safed to his creatures in the balance with their attainments 
 when we think what those means have been to us, how 
 singularly great and numerous, whilst the hindrances have 
 been so few ; and when, further, the nothingness and weak- 
 ness of our return is estimated without being held up by 
 the self-delusion of our own hearts. 
 
 " ' In all reforms I would cut off all abuses that cling 
 round an institution as far as possible, but take care to pre- 
 serve the principle unimpaired, and to restore it to its 
 original use. In constitutions, as in individuals, what suits 
 one will not suit another, and the true wisdom is to perfect 
 the one you have, and not seek to substitute another that 
 may not adapt itself as well to the different circumstances 
 of the case.' This, or something like it, Augustus answered 
 to my question of how far one ought to concede in such 
 matters as Reform. It requires, however, more skill and 
 penetration than falls to the lot of many to define the exact 
 limits of that principle how much is the essential part, that 
 root which may not be touched, how much the accidents 
 that may safely be pruned away. The moment a wound is 
 inflicted on a vital part, the animated being droops, withers, 
 and at last dies ; but so nearly is that vital part connected 
 with members not vital, that till the consequence follows, 
 the nature of that wound may be unknown." 
 
 L. A. S. to M. H. 
 
 " Aldcrley, Nov. 19, 1832. I have such constant delight 
 in ' Valehead Rectory,' to which I have recourse again and 
 again, when my thoughts grow downwards, from mixture 
 with this most earthly earth. The poetry is beautiful, after 
 long acquaintance, and I never close the book without 
 having gained some of the feeling for which I opened it.
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE CLOUD. 455 
 
 ' Valehead Rectory ' always seems to me in prose what the 
 'Christian Year' is in poetry, and what Augustus is in 
 human nature." 
 
 "Nov. 30, 1832. . . . Since I came back I have been 
 reading much in the works of the holy and beloved Leigh- 
 ton. I never can read many pages of him, and think of 
 anything else, which I can do, most unhappily, with most 
 others. He is so truly the essence of the Bible, and raises 
 one gently above the earth, and the view of one's own sin- 
 ful self, to the full contemplation of the high standard we 
 are aiming at. Dear old Jeremy always keeps rne too much 
 in contemplation of the extreme ugliness of sin, and I think 
 I can get away from it most easily by fixing my eye on the 
 ' Beauty of Holiness ;' but both together Leighton and Tay- 
 lor would be a religious library sufficient for any Christian 
 who did not live in the fifteenth century." 
 
 M. H. to L. A. S. 
 
 " Alton, Dec. 22, 1832. I hope this may reach you on 
 Christmas Day, that it may bring us more forcibly to your 
 mind's eye, join us more earnestly in your prayers, and 
 communicate to you something of that share of joy we 
 shall be feeling with you, in the coming again of that 
 blessed season. It is a comfort to think that others are 
 feeling it with us, and that Christmas is to many a quiet 
 hidden soul bringing its glad tidings, not the less surely 
 because it is, alas, in these times, only in secret that the 
 real joy can often be felt It is, indeed, sad to think that 
 in a Christian country, and uniting as most do in Christian 
 worship, this should be so that the Name uppermost in 
 our hearts should not be allowed to pass our lips, and that 
 the real cause for rejoicing is the one that cannot be even 
 hinted at. But we must not turn to the sadder side. Let 
 us rather think of the many thousands who have, by the
 
 45 6 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 first coming of this day, been turned from darkness into 
 light, and of the peace and comfort to our own hearts 
 springing up with the assurance of ' a Saviour which is Christ 
 the Lord ' that He who thought it not beneath Him to lie 
 in a manger, and be subject to infant weakness and human 
 suffering, is now mediating for those whom He has re- 
 deemed watching over their struggles, and sending His 
 Spirit to guide and to help them, more powerfully than 
 when on earth He comforted his apostles by words and 
 deeds. It is, I do believe, our little faith which chains 
 down our thoughts to the mournful recollection of our own 
 weakness, instead of leading them upwards to forget our- 
 selves in the adoration of our Lord and Master, and which 
 so prevents our feeling our hearts burning within us, and 
 makes us serious instead of glad. When, however, we see 
 how little there is of Peace on Earth, no wonder if we are 
 often sad ; and these days of political excitement are more 
 especially unfavourable to it. We do feel most thankful to 
 be out of reach of it altogether. 
 
 " Yesterday, being St. Thomas's Day (on which Lady 
 Jones always gave her gifts), the blankets were given out, 
 and Augustus was as happy as you can fancy him being, 
 calling the people in, one by one. We lend them till 
 Easter, and they are most thankful. Truly my path lies 
 through green pastures ; my only grief is that I am so little 
 thankful, that I do not love Him more who pours upon me 
 such abundance of earthly comforts. God bless our dear 
 Luce." 
 
 L. A. S. to M. H. (during an illness of Augustus). 
 
 " Dec. 31, 1832. I cannot help the abiding conviction 
 that here all will end well. Klopstock lost his Meta, and 
 George Herbert's wife was left early a widow ! Still it is 
 perhaps a great comfort when we feel that sanguine hope,
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE CLOUD. 457 
 
 though we cannot always give a reason for it. When the 
 rod falls, we bow beneath it, and meekly and fervently love 
 on. We shall not, shall we, be worse off, for having 
 hoped that in our case the cup may for a while pass by, 
 though we know there is no reason why it should. Your 
 Christian letters come to me like angel-songs, from a brighter 
 and purer world. Yesterday I wrote you a long letter, and 
 burnt it to-day, because I thought it discontented, Oh ! if 
 we could but remember that our Master's eye is never off 
 us, that He saw His disciples 'toiling in their ships,' though 
 they knew it not. 
 
 " You and I must feel somewhat differently at the close 
 of a year, though in much together. I shake hands joyfully 
 with the old friend, and hail the new one, as a step nearer 
 Home, not, I trust, with a morbid feeling I can never be 
 unhappy in this life ; but the very thought of what is called 
 Death is a sensation of joy to me, which none but you can 
 understand, and you perhaps hardly yet. I do earnestly 
 hope the feeling is not a presumptuous one, still when I 
 am happiest the feeling never varies, though hardly does it 
 bear putting into words. And it is now on the stroke of 
 twelve; in a few minutes the old year will have passed 
 away. God bless you, my dear ones, and may the close of 
 every year find us with our lamps burning, that if our Lord 
 calls us, we may not fear to follow Him. What a thought it 
 is that to any one of us, this next year may be the entrance 
 into eternity ! 
 
 " The church bells have just struck up, and they are 
 ringing in the New Year ; the hand of my clock is on the 
 twelve. At this moment our prayers may be ascending 
 /together to the throne of Grace. Almighty and Blessed 
 God, Father, Saviour, and Comforter in one, bless us and 
 keep us through the year just opened on us, guide us 
 with Thy counsel, strengthen us with Thy might, and after-
 
 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 wards receive us into glory. To Thee, O God our Saviour, 
 be all glory, majesty, dominion, and power, both now and 
 ever. Amen." 
 
 In the autumn of 1832, after he had taken possession of 
 the Living of Hurstmonceaux, and had given directions for 
 the addition of several rooms to the house, Julius Hare set 
 out for Italy with his friends Worsley and Landor, visiting 
 Holland and many parts of Germany on the way. Almost 
 all the interesting letters in which he described his travels 
 and his first impressions of Rome to his brother Augustus 
 were unhappily destroyed by Mrs. Julius Hare. Scarcely 
 any memorial of this journey remains but his letters to his 
 brother Francis : 
 
 JULIUS HARE to FRANCIS HARE. 
 
 " Ai/gsbitrg, Oct. 27, 1832. It is a month to-morrow 
 since we (that is, Landor, Worsley, and I) left London : we 
 saw the great Netherlandish towns, and the treasures they 
 contain, pretty well ; spent a couple of days at Bonn, one 
 at Frankfort, and another most delightful one at Nurem- 
 burg, which we all agreed in admiring above all the towns 
 we have ever seen. Landor says Rome is nothing to be 
 compared to it in point of beauty and interest." 
 
 "Viccnza, Nov. 15. . . . . We have been seeing much, 
 especially in the way of pictures, though of course rather too 
 rapidly : and both Landor and Worsley have been most 
 delightful and instructive companions. At Munich the 
 Gallery was closed; but we sawtheGlyptotheca,Schliessheim, 
 and Schelling, who. now that Goethe and Niebuhr are gone, 
 is without a rival the first man of the age, I know not who 
 is the second. We had three glorious days at Venice, that is,
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE CLOUD. 459 
 
 in the picture way, for it rained the whole time. Our last 
 morning we employed in buying. Landor got a Schiavone 
 for himself, and, with inimitable skill in bargaining, a 
 beautiful marriage of St. Catherine by Giovanni da Udine,* 
 and an exquisitely lovely head of St. Cecilia (a Perugino, or 
 early Raphael Landor inclines to think the latter) for me, 
 for a hundred louis, so that Hurstmonceaux will again 
 bear witness to the family love for the arts. This morning 
 we spent at Padua. What magnificent relics there are 
 there ! The hall must have been the finest room in the 
 world, as large, to judge by the eye, as Westminster Hall, 
 and covered with paintings by Giotto, Mantegna, and other 
 mighty painters. What a place, too, is the chapel of the 
 Eremitani. Giotto seems clearly to be, with perhaps the 
 single exception of Raphael, the greatest genius that painting 
 has yet seen, at* least in the modern world." 
 
 " Fiesole, Dec. 1 1 . Here at Florence, from being at Lan- 
 dor's villa, I have not been able to do as much as I might 
 otherwise have done. But I have learnt to worship Raphael 
 more devoutly and reverentially than ever, and I have seen 
 the Niobe. Many other admirable things, too, have come 
 across me. Pietro Perugino is divine, but the picture at 
 Bologna is still lovelier and heavenlier than any here. In 
 Fra Bartolomeo I am disappointed, his drapery is mostly 
 the best part of his pictures : in the famous St. Mark it 
 is the only good one : the expression is bad. The Job 
 seems to me poor, the Isaiah miserable. In single figures, he, 
 as far as design goes, is a thousand degrees below Correggio, 
 the four Evangelists on the cartoons for his frescoes are 
 the sublimest single figures I ever saw. The Resurrection, 
 in the Pitti, is very magnificent; and perhaps, however, 
 
 * There was a replica of this picture exhibited at Burlington House, in 
 the Loan Exhibition of 1871, where it was attributed to Marco Basaiti, 
 14701520.
 
 460 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 I should have thought better of him, but that Landor had 
 led me to expect something almost equal to Raphael. 
 The Fra Angelicos in S. Marco, are exquisitely beautiful. 
 John of Bologna, too, is a very great man, though I think, 
 in spite of Landor, very inferior in genius to Michael 
 Angelo ; and to place him above Phidias and Praxiteles 
 seems to me to be utter nonsense. The Mercury is a 
 singularly agile figure, but not a god, unless it be a 
 'dieu de la danse. The Rape of the Sabines and the Nessus 
 seem to me to be much too violent for sculpture, with 
 too many projecting points. His Oceanus, however, and 
 still more his Neptune at Bologna, are very grand. What 
 a grievous thing it is that Michael had not a little of 
 Raphael's meekness, and was not content with doing a 
 thing most beautifully, unless he could astound and amaze. 
 His Madonna and Child at Bruges is worthy of Raphael : 
 his angel at Bologna is as lovely and angelic as any of 
 Perugino's; and yet he could paint that monstrous and 
 anatomical abortion in the Tribune. He is almost always 
 grand however, and full of genius : every time I walk 
 before the Palazzo Vecchio, I am struck with awe by his 
 David, and nothing can be more solemn and majestic than 
 his Giulio de' Medici, and the four figures at the feet of the 
 monuments. 
 
 " Rome, Dec. 20. We just arrived here in time to take i_ne 
 walk round St. Peter's before the venti-quattro. The general 
 effect of the exterior seems to me much less fine than St. 
 Paul's : the dome does not harmonize well with the flat 
 roof beneath it. But the dome itself, the colonnade, and 
 the interior, are unrivalled. Our sitting-room, in the Via 
 di Monte Brianzo, looks down upon the Tiber, and over 
 it to the Castle of St. Angelo, the Mont Mario, and St. 
 Peter's. 
 
 We were greatly delighted at Siena by the admirable
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE CLOUD. 46 J 
 
 Raphael and Pinturicchio frescoes, and by one of the 
 most beautiful Peruginos in the world. The three Sienese 
 painters are by no means ordinary personages, at least,. 
 Razzi and Pacchierotto are often very great : Beccafumi 
 seemed to us very inferior to his two compeers. We 
 found a beautiful Pierino del Vaga too, though sadly dis- 
 figured by dirt, and a number of other good pictures, at the 
 house of a Cavaliere Brillanti. 
 
 " Twelfth Day, 1833. Many happy returns of the day to- 
 you. This always used in old times to be a festive day 
 with us ; and I wish circumstances had allowed of our 
 spending it together. Your children, I trust, are brought 
 up, as we were, with a due veneration for the Befana : she 
 seems to be nearly as worthy an object of worship as many 
 that find votaries here. We do not seem to make much, 
 way through the map ol materials before us : on the contrary,, 
 the horizon seems to widen as we advance. Hitherto, 
 however, holidays and religious ceremonies have stood a 
 good deal in our way : but the puppet-show at Ara Cceli 
 to-day has given us our fill of the latter, and the next, I hope,. 
 will be a clear week, without any obstacle or interruption. 
 Yesterday, we spent the morning at the Borghese, but 
 only got through four rooms, and even those incompletely : 
 for when there is leisure, we find it much more profitable 
 to see few pictures at once, and study them, and discuss 
 them, and try to make out the characteristics of the 
 master's style. What a superb collection it is ! though evert 
 in it are evidently some misnomers, and Sassoferrato has 
 the post of honour, when there are twenty greater painters 
 in the room. The Garofalo's there, at the Doria, and at 
 the Sciarra (the two landscapes in the best Venetian style), 
 have given me a much higher notion of him than I had 
 formed before : surely many of the numberless monotonous 
 repetitions of the same conventional heads in the small
 
 462 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 pictures fathered upon him, must be by his scholars. The 
 colouring is always good : indeed in this respect the Ferrara 
 school come near to the Venetian : but very often they 
 have little merit besides. Your old favourite, Dosso Dossi, 
 is multitudinous and of all sizes at Modena : but there did 
 not seem to be much in him. The early Peruginesque 
 unfinished Raphael at the Borghese is, I suppose, an his- 
 torical picture. But I should be inclined to doubt whether 
 the portrait said to be of himself in his youth by himself, 
 is either one or the other. That by Timoteo della Vite 
 is a very interesting picture : his beautiful Magdalene at 
 Bologna had taught me to admire him. Raphael's Deposi- 
 tion is certainly a most beautiful and sublime picture ; but 
 I think the Germans go too far in calling it his finest work. 
 The Spasimo, so far as one can judge from Trochi's fine 
 engraving, seems to be so, or at all events to stand by the 
 side of the Sistine Madonna. In the Deposition the central 
 figure of the corpse-bearer, which people praise for its 
 muscular strength, seems -to me a grievous fault. Rubens 
 may make his Crucifixion an occasion for displaying nerves 
 and thews ; but Raphael was too heavenly for such things." 
 
 To A. W. H. 
 
 "Rome, Day of the Purification. .... I rejoiced when I 
 left England in the thought that, till I returned thither, I 
 should not see another proof-sheet ; and lo, they are threat- 
 ening to pour in upon me of all places in the world here in 
 Rome. Here in Rome, where one has so many better ways 
 of spending one's time ; where authorship seems to be the 
 last thought that ever enters anybody's head, I seem to be 
 fated to publish, and of "all things in the world, a sermon. 
 I preached the Sunday before last, and, to suit my sermon 
 to the time and place, took, ' What went ye out into the 
 \vilderness to see ? ' for my text, and the evils and dangers
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE CLOUD. 463 
 
 of living abroad for my subject ; and, as I had resolved, 
 followed your example in scolding the misbehaviour in the 
 churches. But you know people rather like to be scolded, 
 at least, when the scolding comes from the pulpit, and is 
 not immediately personal. Vehement preachers have 
 always been popular ; and so in the following week a num- 
 ber of the congregation expressed, through Mr. Burgess, a 
 strong wish that I might be induced to print it ; and as the 
 applicants were personally unknown to me, I felt myself 
 forced to set about trying to get a papal imprimatur. The 
 chief said he had already heard a great deal about my 
 sermon, and if I would take it to him to read over, that he 
 might see there were no objectionable expressions, he would 
 be very glad to give me his license. Here the matter stands 
 now ; but people say if the license is granted, it will be a 
 great point, for that it will be the first instance of a Pro- 
 testant sermon printed at Rome. To make amends for the 
 trouble it will give me, I have had one or two very touching 
 expressions and thanks. Far the most delightful thing was 
 a note from Bunsen (the Prussian minister), who was there, 
 and borrowed the sermon after church, and read it into 
 German to his family in the evening. Next morning, before 
 I was dressed, I received the following note, which I send 
 you in the original : 
 
 " ' Theurer Freund, erlauben sie mir dass ich sie mit 
 diesem Namen begriisse. Ihre gestrige Predigt hat mir 
 bewiesen dass der Grund auf welchem unsere Verbindung 
 ruht, zu tief liegt urn von der Sturm der Zeit beriihrt zu 
 werden ; ein Grund der Gemeinschaft der ihnen meine 
 anhanglichkeit furs leben verbiirgt, und mich mehr als je 
 wiinschen la'sst ihre Freundschaft furs leben zu gewinnen.' 
 
 " You have heard something of Bunsen, and know that I 
 expected to like him very much. I like him far more than 
 I expected, and hardly know any man who unites so many
 
 464 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 high merits, without, so far as I can see, a single defect. 
 He is one of the friendliest, most amiable, liveliest, most 
 sensible, best informed, most entertaining of human beings, 
 overflowing with kindness, good humour, with high spirits, 
 most actively and unweariedly benevolent; and I have 
 never discovered the least spark of ill-nature in him, or of 
 selfishness, or of vanity, though we are constantly together. 
 Over and above everything else, he is a man of the strong- 
 est, purest, most fervent piety. Circumstances have in 
 some degree given another turn to his studies, else his own 
 bias would have been to devote himself entirely to religion. 
 Even as it is, he has done a great deal. He has made a 
 collection of German hymns, a large octavo volume that he 
 has selected from above eighty thousand. He is engaged r 
 too, in publishing a complete collection of Christian litur- 
 gies, and has made great researches in all ages of the 
 Christian Church for this purpose. Nay, he has himself 
 printed a liturgy for his own chapel here, drawn in great 
 measure from ours, or rather from the same sources ; but it 
 differs from ours in some very important points, and I 
 think mostly for the better. The German Protestant chapel 
 itself, too, is entirely his creation, and has been of very 
 great advantage, among other things, by having put a stop 
 to the conversions which had previously been so frequent 
 
 among the German artists 
 
 " As for Rome, dear Rome, it seems as if I had seen 
 nothing of it; and yet I have seen more than in all the 
 other towns I ever was in put together more objects of 
 love and of thought. It will be a great grief to me to leave 
 her with the thought that I am never to see her again : yet 
 it will be a great happiness to have seen her, and having 
 been seen, she will become a part of sight"
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE CLOUD. 465 
 
 M. H.'s JOURNAL ("The Green Book "). 
 
 "January 14, 1833. A new year ! To how many is it 
 nothing but an old one ; new in nothing but its name, old 
 in the strengthening of all former propensities ; old in indo- 
 lent habits ; old in time wasted or misused. The point is 
 to ascertain how much it is wise to retain of the old, how 
 much ought to become new. Perhaps in these days there 
 is more danger of casting off too much of the old than there 
 is of neglecting to adopt the new. Change is the cry of 
 the day, and though the new may only be what is old, new- 
 cast and under a new form, still there is the restless desire 
 for change, and the extravagant hope that all good is to be 
 effected and all evil done away by such a re-modelling of 
 things. But I am led away from my first idea, which was 
 rather a practical and moral one to consider within our- 
 selves how the fresh stage of life ought to be a new one in 
 its most useful sense. Now it seems to me a clear principle 
 of Christ that we should never stand still never feel satis- 
 fied we are doing enough ; else why have we a model before 
 us of perfection we never can reach, if it be not to stimulate 
 us onwards, leading us on step by step, and ever keeping 
 before us a point yet further to be attained, both to keep us 
 humble and excite us to action ? Each year, then, should 
 be a stage of advance in our own souls, by a growth in 
 Christian grace and a weakening of natural corruption, and 
 also an advance in the work we are called to, whatever that 
 work may be. 
 
 " When I look back on the mercies of the past year, how 
 ashamed and humbled do I feel to think how my heavenly 
 Father has watched over, preserved, and blessed me, and 
 how little I have given Him in return how little of love 
 how little of prayer how little of service ! Yet let me hope 
 it has not been altogether in vain ; that some few seeds of 
 good have been sowa though there ought to have been an 
 
 VOL. i. H H
 
 466 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 abundance of them; that some few feelings have been 
 strengthened and realised, though many have been sluggish. 
 Alas ! how much readier we are to dwell upon the few 
 miserable little grains of wheat in the year than to seek out 
 and mourn over the harvest of tares ! How much more 
 willingly my mind turns to the hope that I have acquired 
 more power of realising to myself the constant presence of 
 God my Saviour, than it does to the more certain fact of 
 how often I have failed in trusting and believing how little 
 I have shown my sense of His presence 
 
 . . . . " One thing I am very sensible of in the past 
 year a great increased perception of the variance between 
 the principles of the world and those of the Bible. The 
 having so constantly before my eyes in our retired life and 
 parochial duties the higher views of Christianity, and the 
 reading so much more than I used to do of theological 
 books, and so much less of worldly publications, has 
 quickened my perception of the difference, so as to strike 
 me forcibly, either when mixing with others or reading the 
 literature of the day. But perhaps I leave out the chief 
 cause the living with one whose whole life is based on 
 Scripture principles, and whose whole thoughts and practice 
 are alike resting on that sure basis. 
 
 " How little am I duly thankful for such privileges and 
 blessings as God has bestowed on me, in my situation and 
 in my most precious husband, with whom I have been 
 allowed three years of such uninterrupted happiness. Oh, 
 may I be more grateful, more loving, more faithful to Him 
 who gives me all His best gifts in such abundance, and may 
 He bless them to us both, so that we may be yearly more 
 devoted to His service, and more earnest in our calling, 
 not forgetting, whilst we strive to better others, that we, too, 
 have a great work begun which has to be perfected, and for 
 which we must not cease to watch and pray ! "
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE CLOUD. 467 
 
 M. H. to C. S. 
 
 " Alton, Jan. 5, 1833. Our New Year's Day was a very 
 happy one. After church prayers (which we have on all 
 saints' days and occasional services), the Sunday school, 
 fifty-six in number, assembled in the barn to receive their 
 prizes for their tickets. I invited the Piles and Miss 
 Miller to see, and whilst I sat at one end with the list 
 of names, &c., Augustus gave to each, as called, his or 
 her packet, consisting of the sum for their tickets, made out 
 in scissors, work-bags, books, handkerchiefs, stockings, &c. 
 Being the first reward-day they have ever had, of course 
 it was thought the more of. We made them a speech, and 
 then they begged to sing a hymn the mistress had taught 
 them to surprise me, and away they went. The school- 
 master, mistress, the clerk, Gideon and his wife, and our 
 old cook, came to eat beef and plum-pudding with our 
 servants, and did not seem least pleased with Mr. Hare's 
 going to drink their healths, and wish them a happy new 
 year afterwards." 
 
 M. H. to L. A. S. 
 
 "Jan. 6, 1833. The beginning of another year of life 
 does indeed seem overflowing with thoughts and feelings, 
 mercies past for which we cannot feel grateful enough, and 
 opportunities to come for which no prayer nor faith seems 
 sufficiently strong. Last year we began the year with cholera 
 impending over our heads, revolution threatening us. Now 
 we are mercifully freed from one evil, and the other is at 
 least for a time removed to a distance. Still so weak is 
 my faith, that I am afraid I look back with greater pleasure 
 than forward. And yet the same God and Saviour who has 
 been with us through the one will no less surely be near us 
 through the other, and overrule all things for good. You
 
 468 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 and I must, of course, feel differently on some things ; and I 
 can only for myself personally desire to have a continuance 
 of present happiness, with greater earnestness and zeal in 
 making use of the great privileges I now enjoy. Still, blest 
 as I am, could Augustus and I both leave the world to- 
 gether, I should look forward to the moment of entrance 
 into eternity, where sin does not dwell, as a moment to be 
 humbly wished for. As it is, since one may be taken and the 
 other left, we can but resign ourselves wholly into our Mas- 
 ter's hands, and entreat him to make our will one with His." 
 
 " /an. 21. Let me tell you of Augustus's first attempt at 
 what in Wickliffe's time was called Postilling. It was luckily 
 the 41 st of Isaiah last Sunday morning, such a fine chapter, 
 and his exposition was so plain, being extempore and from 
 the desk, that I think many must have learnt much. He 
 prefaced it by telling them how Scripture used to be thus- 
 explained till man perverted the practice, and that was 
 no reason its advantage should be now lost, after so many 
 years. He told them a good deal about the nature of the 
 Prophecy, and the different senses it bore, and the diffi- 
 culties attaching to it, and how its perfect completion was 
 probably not yet come. I suppose it was quite as long as a 
 sermon, and the people were most attentive. We had the 
 real sermon, as usual, in the evening." 
 
 " Feb. 2. ... I am so glad that accident has brought 
 A. and C. together again. All my observation has always 
 confirmed me in my belief, that half our harsh and un- 
 charitable judgments of others would be removed could we 
 but look into the windings of their hearts, and see all they 
 had to contend with, and how much more of wheat lay 
 
 beneath the tares than we should outwardly guess 
 
 It is well, perhaps, that we differ in some points, for I am 
 afraid you are inclined to set us up far too high on your 
 shelf. The many little rubs of opinion which would occur
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE CLOUD. 469 
 
 in living together, do not arise in absence, and only what 
 we have in common comes out ; so that in thinking of us, 
 you are too apt to associate all that you delight in, and not 
 to feel that were you here, perhaps you might find many 
 things you would not agree in or altogether approve." 
 
 L. A. S. to M. H. 
 
 " ... The next time I clear out the ' Chambers of 
 Imagery,' I mil examine well and see whether there is any 
 foundation for the accusation, that I put you on too high 
 a shelf. I think it is just possible ; but as I shall probably 
 be absent nine months for once during our lives, you will 
 allow it must be better for one's growth to be always lifting 
 up one's head to a shelf above, rather than stooping to look 
 on one below ; and it is in your power, you know, dearest, 
 to make this mistake, if it be one, useful to you, and equally 
 so to me. Let it make you aim high ; strive to be all in 
 absence I fancy you are. Whichever of us be foremost in 
 the race, let the other ' urge her with their advancing tread ' 
 (St. Andrew's Day, ' Christian Year '). Remember you have a 
 great advantage in being allowed the privilege given to the 
 ' Herald Saints of old,' going forth by two and two ; 
 whereas some are those in the situation of the poor man 
 (Luke viii.), who, when he had been cured, and had once 
 heard the voice and seen the countenance of His blessed 
 Master, pleaded hard to remain with Him, but was refused 
 with that striking answer, ' Return to thy house.' Christ 
 will not always let us remain close to Him. He sends us 
 away to work in a corner of the vineyard, where there are 
 perhaps few who can join in our song. He will see 
 whether our love is true, and is it not enough to make us 
 work on, and joyfully, when we do know that the Master's 
 eye is ever on us, though we see it not."
 
 470 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 M. H. to L. A. S. 
 
 " Feb. 9, 1833. Yesterday, about three o'clock, your poor 
 friend Mary Browne breathed her last, and I trust exchanged 
 her sorrowing and weak earthly tabernacle for 'the Con- 
 queror's song.' I was with her about ten minutes before the 
 end, when she was perfectly sensible, and knew me as 1 
 stood beside the bed. She lifted up her hand when I 
 uttered a prayer for her, and muttered with her lips, but 
 could scarcely articulate. Her cough has been very bad for 
 some time, but there was no change to excite any alarm till 
 a few days ago, when she took to her bed, and has not been 
 up since. From the last Sunday I thought she would 
 scarcely get up again, and, as you may guess, have been 
 every day to read to her, but a dying-bed admits in most 
 cases of but little spiritual assistance. I have in the last 
 year attended four, and certainly the impression left by all 
 has been how little in general a person in so great a state of 
 bodily suffering is capable of thought or attention to the 
 concerns of their souls, more especially amongst the poor, to 
 whom mental exertion is at all times so difficult. With 
 respect to poor Mary, all that she was able to bear or follow 
 was select verses such as she knew before, and chiefly 
 ejaculatory ones out of the Psalms, and the hymn of which 
 you sent her two verses, which she knew quite well. I hope 
 and believe her mind was more at peace for the last two 
 days than she had been previously, and she expressed her 
 readiness to go and trust that she would be happy, while 
 still lifting up her heart in prayer and beseeching that for- 
 giveness of which she so much felt the need To me 
 
 there is a feeling quite beyond describing in standing beside 
 one hovering between this world and the next as she was 
 yesterday; seeing the struggle of the earthly frame, and 
 knowing that the spirit, still alive to visible things, will in a
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE CLOUD. 471 
 
 short time have fled to where we know not : that in so brief 
 a moment all that is invisible and unknown to us is before 
 her; that she whom one has so long taught in heavenly 
 things will know so infinitely more than we do. She knew 
 Augustus, and fixed her eyes on him as he prayed by her 
 very earnestly. He went up the hill, and returned a quarter 
 of an hour after, and all was over. She has so long been an 
 object of interest, that it seems quite a blank to think one 
 shall never see her sitting in the chimney-corner again, or 
 have to cheer her sad grey eye with the blessed promises of 
 Scripture. Hers was a very extraordinary case. I cannot 
 quite make it out ; but latterly I have rarely adverted to her 
 own feelings, thinking it better to lead them forward than 
 allow of retrospect ; so that I cannot exactly say how she 
 felt, but not I think till the last two days essentially different 
 from what you remember her. There was then more of 
 resignation than of joy or hope I think, but I am satisfied 
 there was much of bodily infirmity in her, and I always 
 think of her in the seventy-eighth Psalm ' Will the Lord 
 cast off for ever,' &c., ' and I said this is my infirmity.' 
 
 " I am always so struck by the different ways of consider- 
 ing death, and the light and indifferent tone in which it is 
 spoken of by those people to whom it ought really to be a 
 subject of terror, one should suppose they looked on it 
 as they would on that of an animal, to hear it spoken of as 
 it is by many ; but the fact is that what is beyond is to 
 them no reality, but so vague an impression, it exercises no 
 influence over their ordinary modes of thinking and speak- 
 ing. How can one be thankful enough for the glorious 
 hope held out to us, for the privilege of knowing and feeling 
 the truth!" 
 
 "Feb. 12. Your letter to poor Mary Browne must have 
 been written nearly at the time she was breathing her last 
 m this world, On Monday I took it. and with the Master
 
 472 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 went to find John Browne, who was at work in our field, 
 and there, getting under shelter from the high wind, read 
 (with some difficulty, I confess) your letter to him. He said 
 it was a beautiful letter, turning away his face that we might 
 not see his tears, and put it in his pocket, and I promised 
 to go and read it to him again some day when he was at 
 
 dinner, that Polly might hear it I fully intended to 
 
 have gone to the funeral, and was ready waiting for it, when 
 so violent a storm of rain and thunder came on just at the 
 time that I could not go ; but I saw them from the window, 
 and thought how poor Mary's spirit was rejoicing perhaps, 
 instead of entering the church as on former occasions cast 
 down and disquieted within her. Only one Sunday before 
 the last she was in her corner at church wishing probably 
 for that peace which she has now entered. You cannot 
 think how much I seem to miss her, having for so long been 
 
 an object of interest, and her last illness was so short 
 
 Sometimes when I look back on my Stoke life and my 
 feelings as M. L., I can hardly believe in my own identity. 
 Either that time or this appears to have been a dream, I 
 hardly know which, but quite as often the latter as the 
 former, and I have at times a very strong impression of the 
 time to come when the dream will be over. But in oui. 
 brighter moments of faith, one can look forward without 
 trembling, with perfect confidence in that blessed Saviour 
 who has thus far guided us in safety, and will not, we feel 
 assured, leave nor forsake any who look to Him, and Him 
 only." 
 
 L. A. S. to M. H. 
 
 AlderZey, Feb. 12, 1833. Poor, and yet most happy Mary 
 Browne, I had no idea her end was so near. Every night 
 when I have gone to bed, for the last ten days, I have 
 arranged my lamp so that its light might fall on the white
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE CLOUD. 473 
 
 cottage in your picture which hangs within my bed. I little 
 guessed that her spirit had already fled while I was praying 
 that she might be comforted. How glorious a change for 
 her, for of her safety I trust we need have no doubts. For 
 you, my Mia, it must be very good to live the life you are 
 now leading, and twenty years more of such daily experience 
 in yourself and others will, I think, prove a truer and better 
 key to the right meaning of the seventh of Romans than 
 any searching into man's writings or critical examinings. . . . 
 My own Mia, you know how I may say your earthly 
 happiness is mine, so vividly do I enjoy it with and for you ; 
 but do you know that it is my reserved comfort to think that if 
 now God were to cloud over a part or even the whole of that 
 happiness, I could even then think of you without trembling ; 
 and this is as much my prayer as for the continuing of that 
 happiness ; and may that God and Saviour who has guided 
 you so far bless you both still, and pour into all our hearts 
 more and more of that most excellent gift of charity that we 
 may bear all things, believe all things, hope all things, and 
 endure all things." 
 
 " Feb. 20. There is no command oftener sounding in 
 my ears than this, ' Let your light so shine before men, that 
 they may see your good works.' Every day I see how it 
 is the more necessary for the lamp to burn steadily and 
 brightly, for the conduct to be consistent, uncompromising, 
 and gentle ; for often perhaps, when a word would not be 
 borne, an act of forbearance or self-denial might be re- 
 membered in a cooler moment. Yet so often, when my 
 tree is shaken, does there often tumble down a crab ; any 
 one might be forgiven for doubting the care and attention I 
 pay to the root. I fear, by nature, it was such an uiveterate 
 crab, it requires a fresh graft every year to make it bear 
 any fruit."
 
 474 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 M. H.'s JOURNAL (" The Green Book "). 
 
 " March 4. I seem to myself to have got a clearer notion 
 lately of the different steps which are attained in religious 
 progress, and a difficulty I have felt in reconciling what I 
 see with what I read in Scripture seems to be diminished. 
 There are two distinct classes, say the Evangelicals, those who 
 serve God and those who serve Him not, and I see and 
 acknowledge the truth. Still one cannot look around with- 
 out feeling there' are many who are far removed from being 
 indifferent or careless as to their duty who do sincerely 
 desire to do it, and to a certain degree do serve God more 
 than the world, and yet that these same people are equally 
 far perhaps from that simplicity and reality of Christian 
 faith which makes Christ's service and his yoke a delight* 
 and a joy to them. Now may it not be that such persons 
 are in fact Jews in heart and practice ? Of God they have 
 a reverence and fear they serve Him outwardly, they 
 acknowledge Him inwardly but of love as a principle of 
 action .they are as yet ignorant, consequently their religious 
 service consists in outward acts. Of Christ as a Saviour and 
 Mediator they rarely think, and consider the reference to 
 Him as the great cause of our hope and dependence, as 
 rather of a fanatical spirit. In such persons year passes 
 after year and no change is visible ; the same round of duties 
 is performed, but the spirit which should animate them con- 
 tinues dormant, nor do their worldly thoughts or opinions 
 betray any symptoms of leavening. Of such persons it is 
 untrue to say that they despise or are regardless of God ; but 
 their service is one of fear, and their creed scarcely less 
 enlightened than that of a Jew. People do not consider 
 what it is that distinguishes Christianity from Judaism, and 
 fancy themselves Christians before they have left the old 
 slavery of the letter and form."
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE CLOUD. 475 
 
 It was in March, 1833, that a bad cold, affecting the throat, 
 and a violent cough, formed the beginning of the illness from 
 which Augustus Hare never recovered. A slight paralysis 
 of the nerves on one side of the face caused severe bleeding 
 to be resorted to, which materially weakened the system. 
 For some weeks he was confined to the house, and his mind 
 was filled with anxiety. Mrs. Stanlev wrote from Alderley 
 urgently desiring to come and assist in nursing him ; but 
 to this he refused to consent, preferring that she should 
 postpone her visit to May, when he hoped to be well and 
 able to enjoy it. In April, all anxiety seemed over, and he 
 was able to resume his parochial duties, and delivered an 
 address upon his first reappearance in his little church, 
 which was afterwards printed in consequence of the impres- 
 sion it made upon his people. During his illness they had 
 shown the greatest anxiety about him. " It seems as if one 
 of my own children was bad, not to see Mr. Hare about," 
 said one ; and when he was recovering " I be just about 
 glad Mr. Hare's better, for he is a good friend to all of we." 
 
 A. W. H. to the People of Alton (Address in Alton-Barnes Church). 
 
 " Indeed, brethren, I know not how it may have been 
 with you, nor whether you have missed me, during the time 
 I have been kept away from you : but I can truly say, that 
 I have missed you. I have missed the well-filled benches 
 near me ; I have missed the familiar faces in the gallery ; I 
 have missed the delight of praying with you, and the pleasure 
 of instructing you. At the season of the great festivals, and 
 especially during Passion Week and Easter, the spirit of the 
 coldest Christian is moie alive than at other times. It is 
 impossible to hear the history of Christ's sufferings, how 
 He was scourged, and nailed to a cross, and left to hang
 
 47^ MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 there till He died, amid the mocks and laughter of the by- 
 standers, it is impossible for men to hear all this with their 
 ears, and to have it almost brought before their eyes, and to 
 know that Jesus went through it all for their sakes, that they 
 might be forgiven, and might live, it is hardly possible for 
 anybody to hear all this without having his heart burn 
 within him. These then are the seasons when the minister 
 who loves his people has most pleasure in speaking to them 
 and teaching them. He loves to strike while the iron is 
 hot, while the heart is moved and softened, in the hope that 
 at such a time, by God's grace, his words may sink deeper. 
 And yet it was just at this particular season, when I should 
 so much have enjoyed being with you, that it pleased God 
 to affect me with sickness, to separate me for a time from 
 you, my people and friends. Do not suppose I murmur at 
 this dispensation : far from it. God knows best what means 
 and what instruments to employ for the conversion and in- 
 struction of his people. If I had been in health, you would 
 have been taught by me alone. As it is, you have had the 
 advantage of hearing different teachers ; and it may be, the 
 words of some of them may have sunk deeper in some minds, 
 and have done them more good, than anything I should have 
 said, if I had preached to you. If it be so, God be praised for 
 it ! Yea, God be praised for my sickness, even if it had been 
 more severe, if it be the means of calling any one among you 
 to a knowledge of His saving will ! But still it did grieve 
 me much, that I could not be praying with you and teach- 
 ing you. Never did the little church appear more beautiful 
 in my eyes than on those Sundays, while I looked at it with 
 a melancholy pleasure, and watched you as you went into 
 God's house, or returned from it. Truly, at such times, I 
 could well have said with David, ' How amiable, how lovely 
 are thy tabernacles, thou Lord of Hosts ! My soul hath a 
 desire and longing to enter into the courts of the Lord.' "
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE CLOUD. 477 
 
 M. H. to L. A. S. 
 
 "March 27. 'Shall we receive good and not evil at the 
 hands of our Father ? ' Well may we feel that, bright as our 
 sunshine is and has been from year's end to year's end, we 
 may endure, and bless God that He has thought fit for a 
 brief space to send this cloud to overshadow our joy, and 
 make us more fully sensible how dependent it is upon His 
 good pleasure. Now, when it has pleased Him to bless the 
 means used and give us again a gleam of sunshine, I begin 
 to feel more what a fearful dream I have been in for some 
 days past, and I do more fully cast myself before His 
 throne, who might, had He seen fit, have chastened me so 
 much more severely. My precious treasure looks still very 
 ill, and coughs sadly. Many an anxious moment yet remains 
 before I can feel sure that it will please his heavenly Phy- 
 sician to restore him to former vigour and health ; but there 
 is so much improvement, I indulge a hope he will be able to 
 bless me and his people, and do such little humble service 
 as he can render his Master on earth. His own mind has 
 never for a moment been disturbed ; it has been calm and 
 serene as the most peaceful lake." 
 
 " March 28. God be praised my mind is now at ease, 
 and the cloud is breaking fast and letting the sun shine 
 through again." 
 
 " April 2. ... I have felt during my anxiety that I 
 could not utter long prayers or well connected ones ; but 
 that my whole life was a continual prayer, and for this 
 reason I rejoiced to be alone. When I was not in the 
 room with my beloved Aug., which was only at mealtimes, 
 and when I went out into the garden for a short time, 
 I felt I was alone with Him who could help, and would 
 assuredly strengthen if I asked; and though I could not feel 
 ready and submissive to resign all at his bidding, I did pray
 
 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 most sincerely to be enabled more and more to be brought 
 to this, and that the present warning might in this way be 
 blest to us both. I am certain I was able to go on better 
 from having no one, no not the nearest and dearest friend 
 to speak to and dwell upon the circumstances when at liberty 
 and leisure to do so. When I was not engaged with him, it 
 was far better to be thrown upon one's own reflections, which 
 naturally led one above this world to seek His grace and 
 comfort, who will hear, however weak and faithless our 
 petitions are, and miserably weak one does feel at such a 
 time. .... And now that it has pleased our Lord to 
 take away His chastening hand and restore to us our bright 
 earthly happiness, you must pray for us, my own Luce, that 
 we may not forget how thankful we should be. Now, 
 indeed, there is no fear of it, with the remembrance of the 
 anxiety so lately felt ; but our hearts too soon get used to 
 their blessings, and forget how easily and how readily they 
 may be taken away." 
 
 " You may think how sad it is to have Easter without its 
 usual minister to officiate, no Wednesday's service, and no 
 evening lectures. Last night, for the first time, he read a 
 few verses and a collect to the servants, but with so trem- 
 bling a voice he could scarce get through that, and it made 
 him cough so that I fear it will be long before he will be 
 fit for Sunday duty." 
 
 "Easter Tuesday. My darling Augustus is going on 
 well. I wished for you so on Friday. Half an hour before 
 afternoon church, Mr. Majendie came. Augustus and I 
 had arranged the room ready, and he administered thft 
 blessed bread and wine to Marcus, Mary, Augustus, and 
 me, and you may suppose all we felt in so receiving it, with 
 the prayer appointed for sick persons ..... Marcus went 
 yesterday : he is one of few words, but loves us much.''
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE CLOUD. 479 
 
 L. A. S. to M. H. 
 
 " March 29. I need not tell you how I have suffered 
 with you in these days. I have indeed felt, what I always 
 said, that in one affliction I should be to you a miserable 
 comforter, and what else cot\ld the dearest and most sym- 
 pathizing friend be ? Well it is for us that there is a friend 
 whose ear is open to the feeblest call for help, and whose 
 power to give that help is all-mighty. We must not forget 
 under whose hand we are fainting. Though a grievous east 
 wind has for a little season blighted your beautiful gourd, let 
 us lift up our hearts in humble and cheerful confidence, and 
 rest them on Him who doth never afflict willingly or grieve 
 His children. Perhaps after four years of such unvaried 
 happiness, some little check was necessary, to remind you 
 more strongly that there is danger in giving all our affections 
 to one created blessing, however precious and love-worthy 
 that blessing may be. You do not feel now you could say, 
 
 * Thy will be done,' and yet it is what God will have his 
 children say, even when he takes away their all. It is 
 perhaps good that you should be obliged to contemplate 
 what nature shrinks from as too hard to bear, and though 
 you cannot now pray long or connected prayers, your whole 
 day must be a striving in prayer, to be conformed to God's 
 will and to have none but His; and when our beloved 
 Augustus recovers, though you thought you loved God 
 before, you may find that this was wanting, though by your 
 own heart only the lesson may be known. I am so glad 
 
 * Marcus ' is coming to you. Tell the dear Augustus I have 
 great faith in the simple united prayers of a loving parish, 
 and if no church can be opened, the prayers offered up by 
 his people for his recovery in their separate cottages or at 
 their work will avail much." 
 
 " Alderley, April 8, 1833. I feel that you know all I have
 
 480 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 been thinking in the last week, for our hearts will have been 
 offering up their tribute of joy and gratitude and humilia- 
 tion at the same gracious throne, and gaming from the 
 contemplation of our Saviour's sufferings and glorious 
 resurrection fresh supplies of strength, to go on our way 
 rejoicing 'with fear and great joy/ as the Marys did 
 when they found the sepulchre empty and Jesus risen 
 fear lest we should not sufficiently honour and care- 
 fully follow such a Master, and ' great joy ' because we 
 know and are assured that in those dreadful hours of suffer- 
 ing He bore the punishment we each and every one must 
 have incurred ; and it is not the least thing we have to be 
 grateful for, that we live in these days, when eighteen 
 hundred years have gone on proving the truth of our 
 Saviour's words, and gradually and to the letter so fully 
 accomplishing all things, that we may almost wonder how 
 it is our faith ever wavers, or how such a miserable being as 
 an unbeliever or doubter can still exist. I sometimes 
 think if one could but show to any one the love, the peace, 
 which Jesus can create in our hearts, they must long to feel 
 it too. Yesterday morning, as I was walking through the 
 wood to church, with everything in nature to make glad the 
 spirit the songs of the birds, the myriads of flowers, the 
 bright sun I thought how many would allow it was de- 
 lightful and most gladdening, and say it required no peculiar 
 religion to feel grateful and happy while the senses were 
 under such an influence ; but only the believer knows and 
 can testify that those same joyful and thankful feelings, 
 which bring tears to the eye, and overflowing gratitude to 
 the heart, can be felt when all is dark and dreary around, 
 when the animal frame is under no sunny influence, and 
 when in this world perhaps our way must be lonely and 
 often beset with thorns. God's sun shines most warmly on 
 our hearts when the world's sun shines least ; and who that has
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE CLOUD. 481 
 
 once felt its reviving rays would not easily spare the other's, 
 
 if it be his Master's will I do not ever remember 
 
 passing Passion Week in so peaceful and happy a frame of 
 mind as this last has been. I could hardly have felt more glad 
 or warmed up .and whenever I was at prayer, it seemed as 
 if the thought of Augustus's recovery was the one drop to 
 make the cup overflow. How clear it is that the Bible was 
 written for the creatures of a changing world ; if we had no 
 sin to mourn over, no afflictions to wean us, half its pages 
 would lie useless. There is one woman in the Bible whose 
 example comes oftener to my thoughts than any other, 
 because hers was a simple, straightforward faith I think one 
 might attain, and should if one aimed higher the Shuna- 
 mite she did not doubt for one second but that it was all 
 well ; but it is so difficult to feel secure with God when a 
 trouble comes. How you will watch over your gourd when 
 it quite revives ; but remember, dearest, you must not watch 
 too anxiously, or let your heart beat too easily ; the best way 
 to ensure its stay with you will be to trust it wholly and 
 calmly in God's hands. 
 
 " I think I helped my thoughts very much the last week to 
 keep singly to their object, by carefully reading only what was 
 clone on each day, and as far as possible bringing before 
 myself what passed ; then, not having read any of the 
 chapters before, those on the Resurrection, with all connected, 
 came more forcibly, more powerfully home on Easter Sun- 
 day. I do not think in the round of life there is a moment 
 more overpowering, more thrilling, than when the organ 
 peals forth accompanied by those anthems preceding the 
 collect ' Christ, our Passover, is sacrificed for us.' Oh, we 
 ought to be very joyful all the year round, come what will 
 on our journey, when we think what our home will be 
 who, the Friend, the Master, preparing our mansions in it. 
 
 '' Alderley is looking most beautiful. The wood is one 
 
 VOL. I. II
 
 482 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 sheet of daffodils and anemones larches all greening, and 
 every hedge ready to burst into full leaf. I think even 
 Julius would allow that a mass of young larches, in their 
 first fortnight's unsullied coats, is a refreshing sight." 
 
 M. H. to L. A. S. 
 
 "April 13, 1833. Your plan was exactly one we were 
 talking of one day as so useful that of realising more the 
 passing events of our holy week ; and though there was 
 no church service except on the Friday, as there would have 
 been had the pastor been among his people, at home we 
 got our little chapters and prayers in the evening. Now he 
 is weak in voice, I generally read the verses, and then he 
 comments on them after ; he reads the collects and prayers, 
 and I say the Lord's Prayer, and so we jointly get through 
 
 our little humble service Augustus's confinement 
 
 and inability to do anything is more trying perhaps now 
 when he is better than it was when he was entirely incapaci- 
 tated ; but God's will must be ours, and his time ours, and 
 slight indeed is the trial of our patience He at present sends. 
 May it prepare us for the far greater that may one day be 
 our portion." 
 
 " April 21. I cannot close this day so beautiful with- 
 out, and so full of thanksgiving within without making our 
 dear Luce share in its great blessings. The sun has shone 
 with almost a summer heat, and the air, for the first time 
 this spring, has been most balmy and delicious, as if to 
 invite the dear pastor once more to his church. He was 
 afraid of undertaking a full service or the whole morning 
 one, so got Mr. Caulfield to take that for him ; and this 
 afternoon we had the happiness of going again together into 
 God's house. Scarcely could I restrain my tears when he 
 entered his desk, and you may think how freely they flowed 
 when, before the general thanksgiving, he rose up and said
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE CLOUD. 483 
 
 that, having been so long unable from illness to officiate in 
 that place, he begged now to offer his humble and hearty 
 thanks to God for being restored again to health, and then 
 in the customary place added, ' especially for Thy servant 
 who now desires to return thanks for thy late mercies 
 vouchsafed unto him.' .... My dear Luce will need but 
 to be told the facts of to-day to lift up her heart in joyful 
 thanksgiving with us for the mercy God has shown us in 
 thus restoring us to our great and undeserved happiness j 
 and the extreme loveliness of the day, combining to fill and 
 soften our hearts, has made it one continual feeling ol 
 praise. Once more did we take our walk in the fields after 
 church, enjoying together the heavenly day; and since 
 dinner, for nearly the first time, I took my way down your 
 well-known lane and up the Luce path, and looked down 
 on the lovely view, with a beautiful sunset glowing all 
 round, and felt that heaven would indeed be on earth were 
 all within as beautiful as all without, if in those peaceful 
 cottages there were no sin, and all were love. I miss sadly 
 poor Mary Browne in her chimney-corner, to speak a con- 
 soling word to as one passes by. Patty grinned from ear to 
 ear as she expressed, in more words than I ever heard from 
 her before, how ' comfortable ' it was to see Mr. Hare in 
 church again. Old Hannah Baillie almost cried her joy, 
 though it was evidently saddened by his looking so ill. 
 The other day, in coming across the field, she quick- 
 ened her step most gladly at hearing him call her; but 
 her countenance soon fell as she turned to me ' How 
 bad he do look ' and her merry eyes did not get back 
 their sparkle. I fear the dear old woman is weaken- 
 ing in bodily strength, but if she ripens in spiritual, one 
 must not regret it. She is one of the little ones whom Christ 
 will not despise ; for she hath given of her two talents, two 
 in return."
 
 484 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 " April 30. The dear Augustus has been getting on, though 
 the weather since those two warm days has not been kindly 
 to him. He has been out two or three times in the Dull 
 carriage. Stronger he certainly is, and on Sunday morning, 
 by leaving out the Commandments, he got through the 
 whole of the rest of the service, and once again preached to 
 his dear people. He spoke to them about all the seasons 
 that had passed during his sickness, and his feelings during 
 it, in such a way as to melt a great many to tears, and head 
 after head sunk down. Such occasions it is a great pity to 
 waste ; and when their hearts were thus full of affection for 
 him, their minister, we may hope his words were blest with 
 more than usual efficiency to their souls. He got through 
 it very fairly on the whole, and has not suffered from it. 
 The Sunday before, old William Hams told me he could 
 not help crying in church to see ' how bad he did look ; but 
 God in heaven be praised, he is out again.' " 
 
 "May Day. To-day we are to have all the men of the 
 parish to hear the Rector's new plan for them that he will 
 pay the malt duty for all who wish to brew at home. Since 
 he formed his plan, Parliament seems to intend taking it off; 
 however, that will not be for a year, and I daresay they will 
 not value his thought for them the less." 
 
 " May 16. I am sure you will fancy yourself in the little 
 church. Now Augustus has got to two services again ; it 
 seems quite like old times ; and yesterday, Ascension Day, 
 we had prayers and a ' postilling,' as usual. What weather 
 this is; I never knew so enjoyable a May. In a week 
 everything has become perfect summer, and the foliage is 
 quite thick. I am writing to the music of a swarm of 
 bees, which, as usual, have betaken themselves to our 
 chimney." 
 
 " May 28. Last night we had our thanksgiving supper, 
 the preface to which v/as the verse out Nehemiah viii. 10.
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE CLOUD. 485 
 
 Twelve dear old people thankfully partook of ' the portion 
 prepared for them,' and expressed much joy at seeing Mr. 
 Hare so well again. To-day the grass was begun to be 
 cut, and the master is full of delight at the thoughts of his 
 haymaking. The orchard was all down by six o'clock, and, 
 alter a due consultation of authorities, the croft is now under 
 Gideon's hand and scythe," 
 
 "June 3. The dear Luce had her full share of our 
 thoughts and wishes in the happy return of the most blessed 
 2nd of June. It was a lovely morning, and, weak and miser- 
 able as our thanks are, I did feel my heart overflow with 
 gratitude in thinking of the four years of perfect and unin- 
 terrupted happiness that has been granted to us, with, lately, 
 the added blessing of Augustus's recovery to health. Here, 
 in church, with all the delightful service and Augustus's two 
 dear sermons one in the morning, the other at the six 
 o'clock evening service, on the Trinity you may think 
 whether I wished or longed for any one blessing more, 
 except that of a more grateful heart, and more power to 
 utter all the overflowings of one's feelings. It is a great delight 
 having the Stanleys here, and I rejoice that K. should think 
 Alton a loveable place and a haven of peace and rest from 
 worldly cares and troubles." 
 
 AUGUSTUS W. HARE to W. W. HULL, Esq. 
 
 " April 19, 1833. As to repenting of my intention of ful- 
 filling what we deem to have been our aunt's wishes as to the 
 charities in her will, if I have anything to repent of it is of 
 my pride supposing it to be pride ; but I hope it is a joyful 
 thankful feeling, miscalled pride, that two of the three sub- 
 scribers besides myself to this charity fund should be my 
 own dear brothers. And Francis would have been of the 
 party toe, but for scruples of delicacy, and a notion that, by
 
 486 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 joining to pay the charities, we are practically censuring and 
 assuming a sort of superiority over those of my aunt's heirs 
 h'ho do not contribute, and who happen to be at least as 
 numerous as ourselves, to say nothing of his having already 
 given up three-fourths of his share to the person for whom 
 he believed my aunt designed it. I ought to add, that our 
 fourth contributor is our cousin Mrs. Dashwood. We give 
 ^250 apiece, because we see that our aunt in every will set 
 apart a portion for public charities, which seems to us to 
 manifest a settled purpose ; and as the money was hers to do 
 what she pleased with, we hold that we ought to be thankful 
 for such a portion of her property as she chose to give to us, 
 her own relations. For the rest, it is not ours, we conceive, 
 and therefore we feel ourselves bound to apply it according 
 to her supposed intentions. On examining the various 
 memoranda we determined that we would take the ^4,000 
 (a sixteenth of her property) as our standard, and our con- 
 'tributions accordingly are in that proportion. We four con- 
 tributors have received between us a fourth of her property, 
 and we contribute ^1,000 between us; and I do feel joy 
 and thankfulness that Julius should have been the great 
 promoter of the scheme, instead of saying, ' Oh, if there 
 had been a will I should have had double or triple ; ' while 
 Marcus, on the other side of the Indian Ocean, came to the 
 same conclusion after consuhing-jvith his own heart, and 
 determined, long before he heard our scheme, to give his 
 money himself, let others do as they might.^ 
 
 L. A. S. to M. H. 
 
 " Leamington, May 2, 1833. Yesterday we went to visit 
 our Wesleyan Methodist friend, Mr. Whitehead. Do you 
 remember in our favourite tract it says, how much easier it 
 is to talk of religion than to talk religiously ? He does the 
 latter I see that the holy Calvinist and the holy
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE CLOUD. 487 
 
 Methodist walk on the extreme sides of the narrow path 
 and yet their eye is on the same object, their hand on the 
 same staff, and if either faint or fall the same words of Hope 
 and Comfort lift them up. It is impossible not to feel this 
 strongly when living with Christians who are one in spirit, 
 but two in doctrine. 
 
 " This is the first true summer day, so very lovely, and 
 ' while the earth herself is adorning this sweet May morning,' 
 I am unfolding, like a leaf, under the sun's influence, and 
 thinking how, if we lived more in prayer and praise, more 
 habitually grateful for the never-dying hope of a Christian, 
 we should feel all the year round something as we feel on 
 such a morning as this ; but we cannot have all here, 
 and must rejoice as we can in our poor little houses 
 of clay." 
 
 M. H. to C. S. (after her leaving Alton). 
 
 " June 4, 1833. The house seemed very dull without 
 you all yesterday, and yet the returning to our old ways 
 makes it rather like a bright vision than a reality that you 
 have been here at all. We had a charming drive to Man- 
 ningford in the evening, though it was tantalising enough to 
 exchange it for a dinner party, even with such a sight as 
 Miss Elizabeth Penmddocke in lilac hat and feathers, 
 yello\v lined cape, and a bright green gown." 
 
 C. S. to JI. H. 
 
 " Mah'crn, June 9, 1833. We reached Devizes from 
 Alton in forty minutes, and as the rich unbroken country on 
 the other side passed before our eyes, we determined thai 
 Alton was far more interesting, far more desirable in fact, 
 its external is but a type of its internal character, all so 
 separated, isolated, cut off from the surrounding world; 
 while in all other places there seems such a mingling that 
 there is no saying where one ends and the other begins."
 
 488 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 M. H. to L. A. S. 
 
 " Stoke, June 24, 1833. Stoke looks very pretty, and we 
 are very happy here ; it is such a pleasure to see the old 
 man of eighty as young and sprightly as if he were twenty. 
 .... It seems so odd seeing and knowing so little of the 
 people, and I feel quite ashamed of myself in having for- 
 merly been so little amongst them, and having lived so 
 dreamy a life, for myself always. The shadow of M. L. 
 haunts me here and there, and strangely bewilders me 
 sometimes in the changed feelings of M. H. I suppose I 
 shall never quite lose the mixture here, but the result is a 
 most thankful feeling and a strong sense of increased 
 responsibility." 
 
 M. H. to C. S. 
 
 "Stoke, June 26, 1833. Julius has arrived in England 
 from Italy, and talks of coming here for a day on his road 
 to Cambridge ! He is much delighted with the thought of 
 Augustus and Marcus having furnished his dining-room for 
 him. ' My parsonage will certainly be held out as an 
 example of the luxury of the clergy. And now I shall be 
 able to sit at my solitary mutton chop, with my Atlantian 
 sideboard to bear three knives and two forks, and with 
 eleven splendid morocco chairs stuck round the room, call- 
 ing for ghosts to come and sit on them. My aunts, too, are 
 going to bedizen my drawing-room. I have everything I 
 can want, just as if I had Fortunatus's cap without the 
 trouble of wishing; but the heart-gladdening part of the 
 matter is that the wishes are anticipated by the thoughtful 
 affection of my friends, and that too while I am far away. 
 God bless you all ; would I were worthy of you.' " 
 
 Towards the end of July, the Augustus Hares went to
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE CLOUD. 489 
 
 Alderley Rectory, and while they were there Marcus Hare 
 was invited to Alderley Park, which he left engaged to 
 Lucy Stanley, the beloved friend of his sister-in-law. 
 
 L. A. S. to M. H. 
 
 "Alderley, August 28, 1833. My heart is too full. It is 
 like a cup full to the brim, and I am afraid of letting one 
 drop escape, for fear the whole should overflow. The only 
 thing I am sure of is, that amid all its contending feelings, 
 a sense of grateful happiness is at the top, and that I may 
 cheerfully and confidently go forward, assured that the 
 same Father and Saviour who has led rne thus far, will 
 never place His weak and strength-needing child in any 
 pasture so beautiful, as to make her forget the everlasting 
 home, where there shall be neither marrying nor giving in 
 marriage, but when, as St. Mark's hymn ends, 
 
 ' The saints beneath their Saviour's eye, 
 Fill'd with each other's company, 
 Shall spend in love th' eternal day.' " 
 
 JULIUS HARE to M. H. 
 
 " Hurstmonceaux, September 9, 1833. God be praised 
 for the great blessing he has bestowed on our dear Marcus 
 and on us all ! I know you will deem it a blessing ; so will 
 Augustus, who already loved Lucy as a sister ; and I feel as 
 if it will also be a very great one to me, although I have 
 hitherto remained in the background, and perhaps, but for 
 this marriage, might never have become cordially intimate 
 with her. Meetings of two or three days, with years between 
 them, are a scanty foundation for friendship to spring from. 
 Now, however, the ice is broken ; she will assuredly do us 
 all much good ; and I hope and trust that she herself will 
 be a gainer by the marriage, that at least in this world it
 
 49 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 will make her happier. It would have been a great thing if 
 Marcus married a person who did not slacken the bonds 
 that unite us ; but he seems to have chosen the only person 
 in the world that will draw them tighter and closer. 
 Marcus's speech to Lucy, ' that he had never in his life done 
 what he liked, except in marrying her,' seems to me one of 
 the most beautiful compliments (that is not the word, but I 
 cannot think of a better) ever paid; and we who have 
 known him from his childhood know how true it is. It 
 would be indeed very delightful if I could bring you 
 here from Alderley. I should like to have you here while 
 everything is in full beauty ; and though my house will not 
 be in apple-pie order, you will not growl very much at that. 
 Besides, I shall try, if possible, to get Marcus and Lucy for 
 a day or two on their way. I know that every day will be 
 precious to them, and I would not ask it, if I did not think 
 that I might be of some use to them, in talking to them about 
 what they are to see and admire, and showing them some of 
 the spoils I have brought back from Rome, such as prints, 
 casts, and so on, which will prepare them for what they are 
 to find. It is a matter of great importance to have one's 
 eyes properly opened. And oh, what a joy it would be to 
 me to have my two beloved brothers and my two beloved 
 sisters here ! My big house would not look lonely again 
 through the whole winter. The very chairs would begin to 
 dance and sing for joy, instead of standing so sullenly round 
 the room, scowling, because, in spite of all the temptations 
 they hold out, nobody comes to sit on them." 
 
 M. H. to C. S. 
 
 " Alton, August 25. A beautiful day took us from Stoke 
 to Malvern. We sallied out as soon as we had had a cup 
 of coffee, I on a donkey and Augustus on foot, and had 
 time for a charming ride round by the south seat, with a
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE CLOUD. 
 
 flood of light from the setting sun on the view. Yesterday 
 morning, having breakfasted, we set off on two donkeys and 
 rode to Little Malvern a beautiful morning, and it quite 
 reminded me of one of our Pyrenean rides. What a lovely 
 place it is, and the church quite beautiful ! I do quite 
 delight in Malvern, we enjoyed it so much. At ten we set 
 out on our journey, but Augustus's throat and chest were 
 so bad he could not speak much. We got home at half-, 
 past eight, Aug. thoroughly knocked up, and it is very 
 provoking bringing him back much worse than he went." 
 
 On the 1 8th of September, Augustus and Maria Hare 
 returned to Alderley, where the wedding took place on the 
 24th. While there, his failing health was so apparent that 
 the family persuaded him to consent to give up his duty for 
 a. time, and to accompany the newly-married pair to Italy, 
 all difficulties about expense being overruled by Mr. Ley- 
 cester's liberality. 
 
 M. II. to the Miss HARES. 
 
 " Alderley Rectory, September 29, 1833. My dear aunts, 
 the bells are ringing a merry peal to tell the world that Mr. 
 and Mrs. Marcus Hare are one ; so let me give our warmest 
 congratulations to you both, that this most happy event is 
 now really completed, and the awful ceremony over, which 
 
 has linked together for life two so dear to us all 
 
 The morning was very wet and stormy, but the church was 
 as full as it could hold, and the view, looking from the 
 side of the altar where we stood, was very striking, with 
 Marcus and his trembling bride in front of the altar, the 
 bridesmaids behind them, Sir John and Lady Maria on each 
 side, and all of us ranged in the chancel round. Edward 
 Stanley read the service very impressively.
 
 49 2 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 "You will be very sorry to hear that my poor Augustus 
 has been suffering a great deal from his cough, and he took 
 the opportunity, the day after we arrived here, of going over 
 to Bodryddan to see Dr. Warren. Both he and Dr. Brabant 
 agreed in thinking a cessation from duty and exertion of mind 
 so essential to his recovery, that after some trouble, by the 
 united entreaties of all here assembled, he has at last con- 
 sented to put a curate into our house for the winter months, 
 and leave Alton, in the hope that he may return to it strong 
 and well, and able to resume his duties without suffering 
 from it. And where do you think we are to go to ? We 
 have actually decided upon accompanying Marcus and 
 Lucy to Italy, where we doubt not, under God's blessing, 
 our dear Augustus will be restored to health. There seemed 
 at first many difficulties attendant on this scheme, but the 
 chief one, which was the money, my father has helped us out 
 of, and all others are no consideration where so great an 
 object is to be attained." 
 
 M. H. to C. S. 
 
 " Alton, October 3. This has been a sad week. Augustus's 
 cough has been much worse since we reached home, and he 
 has been very weak and incapable of any exertion. Yester- 
 day and to-day I think he has begun to rally a little, other- 
 wise I felt quite in fear how he would bear the travelling, 
 being so weak. 
 
 " The way the people speak of our going is very touching. 
 There is not a dissentient voice about the good of it, if it is 
 likely to do Mr. Hare good, though mixed with regret of 
 their own. An old man in Great Alton, who fell clown 
 yesterday and broke his thigh, told Augustus to-day, ' Ah, 
 sir, when I could not sleep last night, I did pray God 
 would bring you back to us safe and well ; ' and that 
 seemed the uppermost thought of his heart in the midst of
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE CLOUD. 493 
 
 all his pain. They of course look at his pale face and 
 think him worse than he really is. It would never have 
 done to stay here and be unable to do anything. It grieves 
 him so to be a cipher in his own church. We have some 
 trouble in getting help. 
 
 " I dare not trust myself to say all I feel for your great 
 tenderness and affection for us, dearest Kitty. God bless 
 you for it, and make us thankful for having, in addition to 
 our own happiness in each other, so much in those nearest 
 and dearest to us." 
 
 " October 14. Our new curate is Mr. Robert Kilvert, 
 who seems, from his great gentleness of disposition and his 
 earnest desire of doing good, to be just fitted to teach oui 
 rustic people ; and, with his sister to teach in the schools 
 and look after the female part of the flock, we shall leave 
 our parish in great comfort." 
 
 L. A. H. to C. S. 
 
 "Alton, Sunday, October 20, 1833. I know you will 
 quite understand how much easier it has been in the very 
 short time I have been here to wish to write than to do it. 
 I need not say how I enjoyed the journey yesterday, with 
 the prospect of Alton at the end, or how my heart beat at 
 the first sight of the White Horse, and the wild soft Downs ; 
 or how the fulness of joy quite equalled all my anticipa- 
 tions, when we drove up through the little gate, and saw 
 first Augustus's head peep out and vanish from the study 
 window, and Maria the same from the drawing-room above. 
 You can guess the feeling of finding one's self in this pretty 
 room again, looking out on that peaceful view, and feeling 
 one's self indeed Maria's sister. To-day has been a blessed 
 day, and one never to forget. There was only morning 
 service at the little church, which Mr. Majendie performed.
 
 494 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 Augustus had said his taking any part, or preaching, was out 
 of the question. I was not therefore prepared to see him 
 quietly, at the end of the service, open the pew door, and 
 ascend the pulpit, from whence he spoke twenty-five 
 minutes, without any coughing, and scarcely any appear- 
 ance of nervousness. He took Acts xx. 32, dwelt very 
 slightly on his leaving them, but went through the verse, 
 showing how he commended them to God, and to the 
 word of His grace, and how that could build them up. He 
 ended with the twenty-seventh verse of the first of Philip- 
 pians. I need not try to bring before you the attentive faces. 
 in the gallery, or the occasional blowing of a nose, or 
 Maria's tearful yet happy face, or my feelings of the purest, 
 most perfect happiness I ever felt on earth, when I knelt 
 at that little altar, with my husband on one side and Maria 
 on the other, and received the cup from Augustus that 
 part he was able to do. No one who had seen him kneeling 
 before the table yesterday, and watched the earnest prayer 
 and expression of his face, could ever forget it. Not one 
 foreboding of evil came across me to disturb the joy, and I 
 think not across Maria. Even when his cough for a moment 
 disturbed one, it gave one no anxiety. I felt sure he would 
 return to his people stronger and better than ever." 
 
 Those who were present retain a touching remembrance 
 of the love which Augustus Hare manifested for his people 
 at a farewell supper which he gave to them in his barn a 
 few days before he left England. After he had parted from 
 them with prayer and a short exhortation, he was sitting 
 quietly in the drawing-room, when the singers, underneath 
 the window, unexpectedly began the Evening Hymn. 
 Quickly unfastening the shutter, his face working with emo- 
 tion, he threw up the sash, exclaiming, " Dear people, how
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE CLOUD. 495 
 
 can I leave you ! " and then sank back on a chair quite 
 exhausted by the mental conflict, and then a terrible fit of 
 coughing came on. 
 
 Tuesday, October 22nd, was his last morning at Alton, 
 and many were the sad forebodings which his looks inspired 
 in the hearts of his people. " They seemed," wrote Mr. 
 Majendie, " to realise during his sermon on the previous 
 Sunday that they were about to lose him, and they then 
 began to sorrow most of all that they should see his face no 
 more. His manner during that service reminded one of 
 the lines of Baxter : 
 
 " ' To preach as if you ne'er would preach again, 
 And as a dying man to dying men.' " 
 
 On the Tuesday morning, Miss Miller, who had become 
 especially endeared to him, went in to take leave. He 
 gave her a little plant to take care of for him, and thtn said, 
 " You also are a young plant, you know, and a young plant 
 must make great shoots. I shall expect, when I come 
 back, to find you have made great shoots shoots of grace 
 and holiness." As she was going sadly away across the 
 little field in front of the house, he called her back. It was 
 to speak to her of James Norris, one of her father's work- 
 men, who had taken to drinking. " You must treat him 
 very tenderly," he said ; " he cannot be driven ; he must 
 be very tenderly dealt with." 
 
 M. H. to C. S. 
 
 "Southampton, October 23, 1833. From dinner to tea 
 yesterday Augustus had a succession of people come to say
 
 496 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 good-bye. He had them in the study, and gave a suitable 
 word of exhortation to each, and was much touched by the 
 simple and varying manner in which they spoke of our 
 going. Tuesday happily was a fine morning, so that I 
 could go round and take leave. Poor old Maslen sent a 
 message to say if Mr. Hare had any orders to leave, he 
 begged he would write them down, for he could not bear to 
 
 come and wish him good-bye At half-past eleven 
 
 we got into the carriage and drove away, and certainly, by 
 the time we had got over the ' Brow,' 1 felt the relief of its 
 being over. 
 
 " We reached Southampton at half-past six, and found 
 Marcus, Lucy, and Julius. You can imagine no enjoyment 
 more perfect than that of our evening together. Lucy was 
 at the summit of happiness." 
 
 The amusing difficulties of Julius's housekeeping were the 
 chief topic of that last evening ; he had already spoken of 
 them by letter. 
 
 JULIUS HARE to A. \V. H. 
 
 " Hurstmonceaux, October 15, 1833. With regard to 
 
 pupil-taking I wanted to know your opinion I myself 
 
 am no less averse to it than you can be, both from taste 
 and from principle ; for I fear that even without them I 
 shall have little time enough for anything beyond the work 
 of the week, and I cannot help grieving at the thought that 
 all I have been doing, all I have been labouring to acquire 
 for the last five-and-twenty years, is to be utterly throwr. 
 away, and for what ? In order to do, or rather to fail in 
 doing, that which tens of thousands would have done quite 
 as well, and thousands far better than I can do. Your 
 womankind won't understand or sympathize with me in 
 this ; but they are no authority on such matters. Women
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE CLOUD. 497 
 
 are too purely heavenly-minded that is to say, when they 
 are so at all, religion is to them everything ; and they can- 
 not see religion in anything but religion. Science, philo- 
 sophy, statecraft, they know nothing about, and therefore of 
 course cannot care about. But as I am two thousand 
 pounds out of pocket by my living, I am not sure that I 
 ought not, as a matter of duty, to take pupils, so long at 
 least as that I may lift my head above water, and clear off 
 my debts. What Marcus says about my parting with my 
 servants I do not attach much weight to. Elphick is the 
 only one who would be a great loss, and he would rather 
 cut his hand off than quit the place ; only, if his wife goes, 
 
 he will cease to be an indoor servant I must say a 
 
 little more about Mrs. Elphick. It is true she is not your 
 Mary ; but where can I find another Mary ? She has lived 
 before in this house ; and where could I get any one else ? 
 My cow, though an Alderney, and a delightful gentle crea- 
 ture, certainly gives very little and poor milk. This may 
 be partly owing to the badness of her pasture, which, as we 
 had hardly a drop of rain for above twelve weeks, is, or 
 rather was the other day, so wretched on my hill, that the 
 cattle took to browsing upon the sweetbriar hedge. I my- 
 self saw Elphick churning away, and no butter would come 
 of it. That this is not a thing totally unheard of appears 
 from that delightful passage of Ben Jonson quoted in the 
 Phil. Mus., ii. 211. That Mrs. E. is not inexpert in 
 dairy lore she proved last year, when they bought an old 
 cow of my uncle's for four pounds (mine cost eleven), and 
 made near two hundred pounds of butter in six months. 
 But that was with an old-fashioned churn ; mine, that gives 
 nothing, is a new-fangled one, that is turned round like a 
 wheel. On my return from Alderley, when I was asking 
 whether the cow was improved, she told me what struck me 
 as strange, that they never used a drop either of milk or 
 
 VOL. I. K K
 
 498 MEMORIALS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
 
 cream for the servants. With her, she says, it does not 
 agree, and that she never eats any butter. ' But what have 
 the men for breakfast ? ' ' Bread and cheese, and meat and 
 beer.' Well, this accounted for the magnitude of my 
 butcher's bills, and my great consumption of beer. But of 
 course, unless it be the custom to allow them only bread 
 and milk for breakfast, I can scarcely set the example. The 
 women have tea. ' What is done with the milk then ? ' 
 ' Given to the dogs, or thrown away.' This set me on 
 inquiring. ' Thrown away ' does not mean given to the 
 pigs, for I have none yet, nor a stye. Such vulgar animals 
 were not allowed to come near the rectory under the anrien 
 regime, and the carpenter has had too much to do hitherto 
 in providing lodgings for my books, which even I thought 
 deserved to be helped first. As to dogs, I believe I have 
 none of Arctis sort. But George (my foot-boy), who has a 
 great love for animals, has a spaniel ; and a Newfoundland 
 was brought the other day for approbation, but was too 
 beautiless for such a slave of the eye as I am. So after 
 some days he was dismissed. 
 
 " I had a letter to-day telling me that another beloved 
 friend is on the point of taking a wife Digby. His letter 
 is one of the most singular I ever read, one of the most 
 melancholy, and one of the most beautiful. He mourns 
 over the prospect that he must no longer be melancholy, 
 over 'having been made to know the very alarming truth 
 that he is a rich man,' aboat having ' been made to hear 
 that he is supremely happy in this world ! ' ' I do feel,' he 
 says, 'a secret horror at the thought of rest and happi- 
 ness on earth.' I have also an interesting letter from 
 Arnold, who says, ' As you met Bunsen in Italy, you can 
 now sympathise with the ail-but idolatry with which I 
 regard him. So beautifully good, so wise, and so nobfe- 
 minded ! I do not believe that any man alive can have a
 
 THE SHADOW OF THE CLOUD. 499 
 
 deeper interest in Rome than I have ; yet I envy you 
 nothing in your last year's stay there so much as your 
 continued intercourse with Bunsen.' And all these men 
 are my friends, my dear fond friends, loving me and 
 esteeming me, so far above what I deserve. I can never 
 keep my heart from bounding with gratitude, when I think 
 over the long list of great and good men who have deigned 
 
 to call me friend And now I must have done. So 
 
 God bless you, and mind you, as our dear aunt used to say ; 
 for body-minding at least you are in sore need of." 
 
 OP VOL. L 
 
 PXINThD BY VIRTUE AND CO., CITY KOAD, LONDOS.
 
 GAYLORD 
 
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