THE LIBRARY 
 
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 LIFE OF CAEDINAL MANNING
 
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 HENRY EDWARD MANNING, 
 
 \l;. HDl'AiON 'IF ( HICHHSTEK.
 
 LIFE OF 
 
 CAEDINAL MANNING 
 
 AKCHBISHOP OF WESTMINSTER 
 
 EDMUND SHERIDAN PURCELL 
 
 MEMBER OF THE ROMAN ACADEMY OF LETTERS 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES 
 VOL. I 
 
 MANNING AS AN ANGLICAN 
 
 TToXXd rd deiva Kovdiv dvdpunrov Seivhrepov iriXu 
 
 Antigone. 
 
 iLotttion 
 MACMILLAN AND CO. 
 
 AND NEW YORK 
 
 1895 
 
 All rights reserved
 
 BX 
 
 V. 1 
 
 47^5 
 
 \S'i5 
 
 PREFACE 
 
 In the years 1886-90, Cardinal Manning gave me constant 
 opportunities of learning from his own lips the story of his 
 life from its earliest beginnings to its close. In the first 
 instance it was his desire and hope that the volume treating 
 of his Anglican life should be published during his lifetime. 
 To write fully and faithfully during his Kfetime a story 
 so complicated, so full of personal incidents, and self- 
 revelations presented, as I soon discovered, insurmountable 
 obstacles. Besides there was the primary objection that 
 to divide the " Life " into two separate parts must needs 
 break the unity and continuity of the work. Indeed, on 
 one occasion, I remember Cardinal Manning saying that " to 
 write my life, while I am still alive, is like putting me into 
 my cof&n before I am dead." 
 
 In the prime of his life, in the fulness of his fame as 
 Archbishop of Westminster and a Father of the Vatican 
 Council, Archbishop Manning resolved that what he had 
 done in his Anglican days — the days before the " flood " as 
 he called them — when he was still " in the twilight " 
 should be buried and forgotten. " Let the dead bury their 
 dead." But as life began to wane, his heart reverted with a 
 strange yearning to the days of old ; to the memories of the 
 past. The closed book of his Anglican life was opened : its 
 pages were perused with a fresh and youthful delight ; the 
 dust of the dead years, literally as well as metaphorically, 
 
 14S66S0
 
 VI CARDINAL MANNING 
 
 after the lapse of half a lifetime was swept aside. In 
 placing in my hands his earliest Diary, written in his 
 Lavington days, Cardinal Manning said, " The eye of no 
 man has seen this little book. It has never before passed 
 out of my keeping." ^ This Diary, in which were recorded 
 his innermost thoughts ; his sorrows of heart ; his loneliness 
 at Lavington ; his confessions ; his trials and temptations, 
 had evidently never been opened by Cardinal Manning 
 since the day he left Lavington for ever ; for the dust of 
 time, and faded flowers, and bookmarkers that had lost 
 their once brilliant colours, mementoes of the past, lay 
 between its pages. Before, however, this intimate record of 
 his early life was finally given to me for the purposes of the 
 Biography, Cardinal Manning carefully and wisely removed 
 from its pages every record or reflection or statement which 
 he did not consider fit or expedient to be laid before the 
 public eye. 
 
 But besides and beyond his Letters and Diaries, Cardinal 
 Manning himself was a living source, fons ct origo, of 
 information. When the mood or the inspiration came he 
 opened his mind and spoke without reserve. 
 
 In like manner and for a like purpose, all his other 
 Diaries, Journals, and autobiographical Notes in accordance 
 with his wish and will passed into my possession. I did 
 not attempt to revise or reverse Cardinal Manning's directions. 
 In his Diaries, Journals, and Notes he told' the story of his 
 own life ; laid bare the workings of his heart, its trials and 
 temptations, sometimes its secrets and sorrows. It was not 
 for me by suppressions to amend or to blur his handiwork. 
 On the contrary, it was my duty and my delight to let the 
 chief actor in this complex drama tell the tale of his own 
 life, and, as far as may be, in his own words. 
 
 1 In a letter, dated November 5, 1888, referring to this Diary, Cardinal 
 Manning wrote as follows : " It is the first time I have ever allowed this little 
 book to pass out of ray hands ; no one but you has ever seen it."
 
 PREFACE vii 
 
 Hence I have not omitted or suppressed a single letter, 
 document, or autobiographical Note essential to a faithful 
 presentation of character, or to the true story of events, 
 with one sole exception. This exception is an autobio- 
 graphical Note, written by Cardinal Manning in 1890, on 
 the corporate action of the Society of Jesus in England 
 and in Eome. It was considered wise or expedient to 
 omit, at all events for the present, this Note of five or 
 six pages, on the ground that it might give pain to 
 persons still living, or provoke controversy at home or 
 abroad. 
 
 Second only in interest to the self-revelations and con- 
 fessions contained in his numerous Diaries and Notes, is 
 the voluminous correspondence to which Cardinal Manning 
 especially directed the attention of his biographer, as form- 
 ing materials essential to the true presentation of his life. 
 This correspondence falls into three periods. The first is 
 Manning's letters from Oxford to his brother-in-law John 
 Anderdon ; the second his letters to Laprimaudaye his 
 curate at Lavington and to Robert Wilberforce ; and the 
 last series to Mgr. Talbot, the private chamberlain of Pope 
 Pius IX. at the Vatican. 
 
 Every one of these letters of material interest or import- 
 ance appears in the " Life " without alteration or omission, 
 for they form a rich source of information in regard to the 
 character, the acts and motives of Cardinal Manning, alike 
 in his Anglican and Catholic days. 
 
 Hour after hour, on many an evening in these years I 
 am referring to. Cardinal Manning gave a most graphic and 
 interesting account of his early days at Totteridge, his first 
 home and birthplace ; of his oratorical triumphs at the 
 Oxford Union ; of his intimacy in the prime of life with 
 men eminent in Church and State and Letters. 
 
 Incidents and details ever fresh and sparkling welled up 
 from the fountains of Cardinal Manning's memory illustrating,
 
 VUl CARDINAL MANNING 
 
 as he told the tale of his life, Anglican or Catholic, the 
 motives which prompted him to action ; the high aims and 
 ideals which he aspired to ; the disappointments and 
 hindrances which early or late he had to encounter. It is 
 perhaps not unnatural that in all the incidents, all the 
 stories and reminiscences related by Cardinal Manning of 
 his life, the chief interest is found to lie in their relation to 
 his own acts or words and works. To a biographer liis hero 
 is the object of supreme and special interest, and under the 
 circumstances no one ought to take it much amiss if the 
 aroma of a refined and subtle seK-love might seem more or 
 less to pervade Cardinal Manning's reminiscences. 
 
 To the Eight Hon. W, E. Gladstone I am deeply indebted 
 for the kind and active interest which he has taken in the 
 preparation of Cardinal Manning^s Life. As far back as 
 1887, he supplied me with information, known to himself 
 alone, concerning incidents connected with Manning's Anglican 
 life. On one occasion, I think it was at Dollis Hill, where 
 he was staying in the summer of 1887, Mr. Gladstone said : 
 " You are only just not too late with Manning's Biography. 
 No one was so intimate with him as I was in his Anglican 
 days. We were in close and constant communication. I 
 remember well incidents and conversations which show 
 what a high opinion was entertained of Manning by men 
 whose judgment is worth recording. I have not committed 
 those opinions to writing ; I have never spoken of what was 
 said about him to me by men of great eminence, even to 
 Manning himself. Had you not come to-day, the incidents 
 I am about to relate would never have been told, for they 
 would have been in a few years buried with me." 
 
 Mr. Gladstone then related many interesting incidents 
 which are recorded in the pages of the following volumes. 
 On mentioning to Cardinal Manning the facts related by 
 ]\Ir. Gladstone, what gave the Cardinal supreme satisfaction 
 was the opinion entertained by Sir James Fitzstephens,
 
 PREFACE ix 
 
 the historian : " Manning is the wisest man I ever knew." 
 What gave almost equal satisfaction was what Bishop 
 Phillpotts of Exeter said to Mr. Gladstone : " No power on 
 earth can keep Manning from the Bench of Bishops." The 
 opinions also entertained of Manning by other men, for 
 instance by Sir James Graham, Mr. Gladstone told me I 
 might publish on his authority, for he could vouch not only 
 for the accuracy of their statements, but of their very 
 words. On congratulating him on his splendid memory, Mr. 
 Gladstone replied, as I think I have recorded in its proper 
 place, " No: my memory is a patchwork memory; I remember 
 the things which I ought to forget, and forget the things 
 which I ought to remember." 
 
 Cardinal Manning and Mr. Gladstone differed in opinion 
 as to the character of the termination or suspension of their 
 mutual intimacy in 1851. Mr. Gladstone said to me : " On 
 Manning becoming a Eoman Catholic our friendship died a 
 natural death, for outside of the Anglican Church and its 
 concerns we had no ideas or interests in common." Cardinal 
 Manning, on the other hand, maintained that his friendship 
 for Mr. Gladstone survived as of old ; though its expression 
 was interrupted by external circumstances. 
 
 With singular selflessness and sympathetic interest, Mr. 
 Gladstone devoted much time and thought, even at a time 
 when as Prime Minister he was weighted by the cares of 
 State, to the subject of Cardinal Manning's Biography. By 
 correspondence, and in conversation at Downing Street, and 
 at Whitehall Gardens, as late as the beginning of this year, 
 Mr. Gladstone related to me, as he said, without reserve 
 every fact, every incident, every opinion of which he had 
 personal knowledge relating, early or late in life, to 
 Manning's career and character. " I have now told you," 
 Mr. Gladstone said in his last conversation with me, " every- 
 thing I know about IManning ; I have held nothing back as I 
 did in our earlier conversations during his lifetime. I have
 
 X CARDINAL MANNING 
 
 also given my opinion on some acts in his career ; and my 
 views of some of the religious and political principles which 
 he maintained. You have my authority for repeating all 
 - ^^ A jyhat I have said about Manning ; but I leave to you the 
 responsibility of publication." 
 
 All the facts related by Mr. Gladstone I have published 
 in due place and order, and incidentally many of his opinions, 
 some favourable, some adverse, concerning Cardinal Manning's 
 tone of thought or line of action, both as an Anglican and 
 as a Catholic. 
 
 Mr. Gladstone added still another favour and aid to the 
 work he had at heart, by allowing the publication of such 
 of his letters as throw light upon events in Cardinal 
 Manning's career, or illustrate his character, his relations 
 to the Anglican Church, or his religious opinions or teachings. 
 The correspondence which passed between Manning and 
 Mr. Gladstone forms one of the most interesting episodes 
 recorded in the " Life." The only pity is that all the letters 
 written in his Anglican days to Mr. Gladstone were sup- 
 pressed by Cardinal Manning because, as he told me, he did 
 not think, for various reasons, their publication would be 
 expedient. 
 
 Mr. Gladstone, who set great store on Manning's Anglican 
 letters, was very indignant on hearing from me of their 
 fate. 
 
 The late Charles "Wordsworth, Bishop of St. Andrews, a 
 playmate of Manning's at Combe Bank ; a schoolfellow at 
 Harrow ; and for a year his private tutor at Oxford, supplied 
 many interesting details of the latter's early life, habits of 
 mind, and moral nature. To many other of his friends or 
 associates at Oxford, who were familiar with him in his 
 undergraduate days, I owe no little of the details and local 
 colour which their reminiscences imparted to his personality 
 and career. 
 
 To Mrs. Austen, Cardinal Manning's devoted sister, the
 
 PREFACE XI 
 
 sole survivor of all his brothers and sisters, I owe more than 
 I can easily express. It was from long conversations with 
 her, and from numerous letters, I learnt much about the 
 family relations, the loving kindliness of " dear Henry's 
 nature " ; and of the deep affectionate love which he had 
 ever felt and shown for every member of his family. Some 
 of her letters to me relating to her brother I would gladly 
 have made use of had I not known her aversion to such 
 publicity. At first she refused to allow the publication of 
 Cardinal Manning's letters to herself. She exclaimed " I 
 am a burner of letters ; you shall not have one of dear 
 Henry's letters to me ; I have left directions that at my 
 death they shall all be burnt." But happily these interesting 
 letters by Mrs. Austen's kind consent form a part of her 
 brother's biography. Her death in 1893, before the publica- 
 tion of the " Life," I deeply regret, as her interest in it 
 was so great that a few months before her death she offered 
 to read the proofs of the early chapters. 
 
 The Lady Herbert of Lea has rendered invaluable assist- 
 ance, by communicating many interesting facts and details 
 derived from her long and uninterrupted intimacy with 
 Cardinal Manning, in his Anglican as in his Catholic days. 
 The numerous letters addressed to herself and to Mr. Sidney 
 Herbert, as he then was, by Cardinal Manning are, from 
 their contents and character, of an unique interest. 
 
 In like manner, the letters of Mr. Odo Eussell, written to 
 Archbishop Manning during the Vatican Council, are of the 
 highest importance and of historic value. To the kindness 
 of his widow. Lady Ampthill, I am indebted for permitting 
 their publication. 
 
 I owe an expression of gratitude to many others, alike 
 Catholic and non-CathoUc, for their aid and advice ; for 
 their communications and contributions and letters, some 
 of which have not fallen within the purpose or plan of 
 this work.
 
 XU CARDINAL MANNING 
 
 Unfortunately, until the " Life " was completed, I did not 
 enjoy the advantage of the kind and judicious advice of the 
 late Mr. David Lewis of Arundel. But he read the proof 
 sheets from beginning to end ; and was especially pleased 
 that all the Diaries, documents, and letters entrusted to me 
 by Cardinal Manning had been freely and fully made use 
 of. From his intimate acquaintance with the leaders of 
 the Oxford Movement, — for Mr. Lewis was curate to John 
 Henry Newman at St. Mary's in 1843, — and from his per- 
 sonal knowledge of Cardinal Manning alike in his Anglican 
 and Catholic days, he was in a position to offer suggestions 
 or explanations which are embodied in the work in the 
 form of notes. 
 
 From two or three learned and judicious priests, seculars 
 or regulars, whose names I am not at liberty to mention, I 
 have received much valuable information and salutary 
 advice. 
 
 To his Eminence, Cardinal Vaughau, I venture to express 
 my deep sense of respectful gratitude for the encouragement 
 which in the first instance, soon after his eminent pre- 
 decessor's death, he gave me in the arduous and responsible 
 work intrusted to me by Cardinal Manning. 
 
 Cardinal Manning, in speaking of his Biography, said to 
 me, " I do not wish to see, either in MS. or in proof, a single 
 page of the ' Life ' with the exception of one early episode ; 
 for were I to read it I should in a measure be responsible 
 for the work." Mindful of this warning I have refrained 
 from asking Cardinal Vaughan, in his kindness to look at a 
 leaf or line of the " Life " of his predecessor. Advice on 
 one or two points offered by his Eminence I felt bound to 
 obey ; but in regard to suggestions of another kind or 
 character I was constrained to follow, whether rightly or 
 wrongly, my unfettered discretion. 
 
 Perhaps I may be allowed here to repeat a sentence of 
 Cardinal Manning's which seems to me to give the keynote
 
 PREFACE xiii 
 
 of bis public life and action. Speaking of bis earliest days 
 he said : " I never was, like Newman, a student or a recluse. 
 Newman from tbe beginning to tbe end was a recluse — at 
 Oriel, Littlemore, and Edgbaston ; but I from tbe beginning 
 was pitcbed head over heels into public life, and I have 
 lived ever since in the full glare of day," 
 
 There is no need of an Introduction to this Biography of 
 Cardinal Manning, since he has told the story of his own 
 life ; therefore for the most part, and as far as may be, the 
 tale is told in his own words. 
 
 It would be a supreme satisfaction to me and my best 
 reward if, by the unreserved publication of all Cardinal 
 Manning's Diaries, Journals, and autobiographical Notes, 
 his real character, the workings of his heart and soul, his 
 inner life, are made manifest in the fulness and simplicity of 
 truth. 
 
 From the beginning a conflict or wrestling with self, as 
 his Diaries bear witness, was going on in his heart and soul, 
 a struggle to square God's will with his own. 
 
 The human side of his character was developed and dis- 
 played to the fullest : self- will, a despotic temper and love 
 of power. 
 
 But the Supernatural side of his character was still more 
 strongly marked and more potent : a vivid belief in the 
 Divine Presence, in the Voice of God speaking almost 
 audibly, to use Cardinal Manning's own words, to his soul, 
 and in the perpetual guidance of the Holy Ghost. 
 
 In the dark and crucial hour of trial his vivid Faith 
 illumined his soul, and in spite of human weaknesses or wil- 
 fulnesses he was constrained by the grace and guidance of 
 the Holy Ghost to submit absolutely and unreservedly his 
 will to the Will of God. It was the triumph in his soul of 
 the Supernatural over the natural. 
 
 Not the soul of Cardinal Manning only was exposed to 
 such wrestlings with self; for many a saint or martyr
 
 xiv CARDINAL MANNING 
 
 whose name is numbered iu the glorious beadroU of Heaven 
 had to wrestle like Cardinal Manning with their turbulent, 
 stubborn, or ambitious natures ; " to light the good fight," 
 before they won their Crown of Glory. 
 
 E. S. P. 
 
 St. Michael's Day, 1895.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTEE I 
 
 1807-1821 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Birth and Parentage — Home and School ... l 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 1822-1826 
 Harrow — Defective Studies — a Private Tutor . . 16 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 Oxford — an Undergraduate at the Union, 1829 . . 29 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 1827-1830 
 In the Schools — Letters to John Anderdon . . 43 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 1831 
 The Colonial Office — "Love in Idleness" . . 70
 
 XVI CARDINAL MANNING 
 
 CHAPTEE VI 
 
 1832-1833 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Holy Orders and Matrimony . . . . . 85 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 1833-1837 
 
 The Rector op Lavington — Early Work — Death op his 
 
 Wife 106 
 
 CHAPTEE VIII 
 
 1838 
 Development of his Religious Opinions . . . 126 
 
 CHAPTEE IX 
 
 1839-1840 
 His active Work at Chichester — its Success and Reward 152 
 
 CHAPTEE X 
 
 1841-1843 
 The Archdeacon op Chichester . . . . .192 
 
 CHAPTEE XI 
 
 i 
 
 1836-1845 
 
 His Relations with Nkwman and the Tractarian 
 
 Party . . . . . . . . .215
 
 CONTENTS XVU 
 
 CHAPTEE XII 
 
 1843-1846 
 
 PAGE 
 
 A Period of "Declension" — Diary 1844-47 . . . 240 
 CHAPTEE XIII 
 
 1841-1846 
 Public Life and Temptations to Seoul arity . , 261 
 
 CHAPTEE XIV 
 
 1844-1846 
 A Holiday — Ward's Degradation — the Maynooth Grant 285 
 
 CHAPTEE XV 
 
 1845 
 Newman's Conversion — its effects on Manning . . 305 
 
 CHAPTEE XVI 
 
 1847 
 Facing Death — a New Life .323 
 
 CHAPTEE XVII 
 
 1847-1848 
 A Spiritual Retreat in Catholic Countries . . 343
 
 XVlll CARDINAL MANNING 
 
 CHAPTEE XVIII 
 
 1847 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The Archdeacon of Chichester on his way to Rome . 355 
 CHAPTEE XIX 
 
 28;;^ November 1847 to llth May 1848 
 
 In Rome — in its Churches and Monasteries — at the 
 
 CiRCOLO Romano . . . . . . .362 
 
 CHAPTEE XX 
 
 1849 
 
 The Committee of Privy Council on Education and 
 THE National Society — Rules for Spiritual Life 
 in his Sermons — Mr. Gladstone's Criticisms . . 418 
 
 CHAPTEE XXI 
 
 1833-1851 
 Life and Home at Lavington . . . . .440 
 
 CHAPTEE XXII 
 
 1846-1851 
 
 Conflicting Claims op Conscience, or the Outer and 
 
 Inner Man ........ 461 
 
 CHAPTEE XXIII 
 
 1841-1851 
 Anglo-Catholic Doctrines and Devotions . . . 489
 
 CONTENTS XIX 
 
 CHAPTEE XXIV 
 
 1845-1850 (26th February) 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Unsettlement in Faith — His Letters to Egbert 
 
 WiLBERFORCE . . . • . • .500 
 
 CHAPTEE XXV 
 
 1850 
 The Gorham Judgment — the "Papal Aggression" . 522 
 
 CHAPTEE XXVI 
 
 March to December 1850 
 The Day of Hesitation — His Letters to Robert 
 
 WiLBERFORCE AFTER THE GORHAM JUDGMENT . . 552 
 
 CHAPTEE XXVII 
 
 1851 
 The Day of Decision ....... 593 
 
 CHAPTEE XXVIII 
 
 An Aftermath, Summer and Autumn 1851 — Winter, 
 
 Studying Theology in Rome . . . . .629 
 
 CHAPTEE XXIX 
 
 A retrospect 
 
 Caedinal Wiseman's Life and Work in England : 
 Catholic Emancipation : the Restoration op the 
 Hierarchy 641 
 
 NOTES 693
 
 ERRATA 
 
 Vol. I. 
 
 P. viii. last line, read " Fitzstephen " for "Fitzstephens." 
 
 P. 39. L. 9, read "R. I. Wilberforce " for "R. W. Wilberforce. " 
 
 P. 64. L. 18, read "Canon" for "Dean." 
 
 P. 99. L. 15, read "dimissory" for "demissory." 
 
 P. 101. L. 16, read " Brightstone " for " Brighstone." 
 
 P. 147. L. 14, read "J. Keble" for "T. Keble." 
 
 P. 237. L. 16 from below, read " Stinchcombe " for "Stinckcombe." 
 
 P. 251. Footnote 1. 3, read "St. John's" for "St. John." 
 
 P. 361. L. 22, read ^^Misericordia" for " 3Iisericorda." 
 
 L. 35, read " Fopolo" for '^ Fopulo." 
 P. 372. L. 18 from below, read " Non" for " Vere." 
 P. 374. L. 19, read "Piazza" for "Piazzo." 
 P. 380. L. 17, read "Castel," for "Castil." 
 P. 390. L. 16, read "refettorio" for " refettoria." 
 P. 391. L. 7 from below, read "Chierici" for "Chicerici." 
 P. 396. L. 26, read " Ara Coeli" for " Scala Coeli." 
 P. 398. L. 9 from below, read "camera" for " comeres." 
 P. 406. L. 9 from below, read " Inghilterra" for "■ Ingleterra" 
 P. 442. L. 8 from below, read " Clewer " for "Clewes." 
 P. 443. L. 12 from below, read " but the latter " for "but he." 
 P. 530 and 531. L. 15 from below, read "Canon" for "Archdeacon." 
 P. 560. L. 6, read " T. W. Allies" for "T. M. Allies." 
 P. 604. L. 13, read " avTOKicpaXoi," for " avroKparels." 
 P. 613. Last line, read "T. T. Carter" for " T. C. Carter." 
 P. 631. L. 18 from below, read "Canon Kerr" for "Archdeacon Ker. 
 P. 693. Footnote, read "23" for "24."
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 BIRTH AND PAEENTAGE HOME AND SCHOOL 
 
 1807-1821 
 
 Henry Edward Manning was born at Copped Hall, 
 Hertfordshire, on the 15th of July 1807.^ He was the 
 youngest son of William Manning, M.P., and of Mary his 
 wife. His father, who was born 1st December 1763, was 
 twice married. His first wife was Elizabeth, daughter of 
 Abel Smith, banker of Nottingham, and sister of Robert, 
 created Lord Carrington. Of this marriage there were 
 two daughters : Elizabeth, who died unmarried ; and Mary, 
 who was married to Major-General Thomas Carey, of the 
 Guernsey family of that name. About three years after 
 the death of his first wife, Elizabeth, William Manning 
 married secondly, in 1792, Mary, the daughter of Henry 
 Leroy Hunter of Beech Hill, Reading. William Manning 
 died in 1835, and was buried at Sundridge, Kent, where 
 Mary, his wife, who was born 4th July 1771, and died 
 12th May 1847, was likewise buried. Four sons and four 
 daughters were the issue of the second marriage. Henry, 
 the youngest, enjoyed the benefit of having many brothers 
 and sisters. 
 
 The early years of the future Cardinal were spent in 
 his father's home, first at Totteridge, and then at Combe 
 Bank, near Sundridge, Kent. As the youngest child he 
 was his mother's darling and somewhat spoilt. His 
 favourite and constant companion before he went to 
 
 ^ See Note A at end of the volume. 
 VOL. I S& B
 
 2 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 Harrow was his sister Harriet. His other brothers and 
 sisters were much older, and before Henry had reached a 
 companionable age they had dispersed from his father's 
 home ; one brother and one sister had died, and two 
 sisters had married. The early death of his favourite 
 sister Harriet was the first trial to a loving heart — later on 
 so sorely tried — the first death he had witnessed, for when 
 his eldest brother William died, Henry was scarcely five.^ 
 
 The first hindrance or stumbling-block to the spiritual 
 life of the future Cardinal was the delay of nearly two years 
 in his baptism. Strange to say, in his numerous records, 
 journals, and note-books, full of references to and recol- 
 lections of his early days and of the circumstances of his 
 home life at Totteridge, Cardinal Manning, unlike his old 
 friend and contemporary, the late Charles Wordsworth, 
 Bishop of St. Andrews,^ so strict on the point of early 
 baptism, makes no allusion to the fact that he was 
 left unbaptized from the day of his birth, 15th of July 
 1807, to the 25th of May 1809. Henry Edward 
 Manning was baptized in the church of St. Martin-in-the- 
 Fields, London, by the Bishop of Bath and Wells. The 
 following is the transcript of Cardinal Manning's baptismal 
 registry : " Register of Baptisms, St. Martin-in-the-Fields, 
 25th May 1809, Henry Edward Manning, son of William 
 Manning, Esq., and Mary his wife, born 15th July." 
 The year was omitted : the column of births was headed 
 1809 : there were other dates entered, one preceding that 
 of Manning's register by three or four was " 1806." In 
 those days the name of the priest or bishop who conferred 
 the sacrament of baptism was not recorded in the register 
 as it is now. The fact that Henry Edward was baptized 
 by the Bishop of Bath and Wells is to be found in the 
 family records. In like manner, more than a year after 
 her birth, his sister Harriet was baptized by the Bishop of 
 Gloucester. 
 
 1 William Manning, born July 1793, died 1812. 
 
 2 The late Charles Wordsworth, in the Annals of my Early Life, dilates 
 with satisfaction on the blessing which he and his brothers enjoyed on 
 receiving early baptism.
 
 I BIRTH AND PARENTAGE 3 
 
 Mr. William Manning, in those days at the height of 
 his prosperity, was not a little prone to ostentation ; ^ and 
 his ambition was not satisfied apparently unless he had a 
 bishop to baptize his children. The convenience of so 
 important a personage had, of course, to be studied, and 
 that may account for the delay. In those days and even 
 in a generation later, as Keble bears witness, there was 
 great laxity in regard to the early baptism of children. 
 
 William Manning occupied Copped Hall, Totteridge, soon 
 after his marriage in 1792, in the first instance as tenant ; 
 subsequently he purchased it. This first home for eight 
 years of his life left so deep and abiding an impression upon 
 his heart and mind, that sixty-five years afterwards Cardinal 
 Manning gave the following vivid account of it in a letter 
 addressed to Mrs. Austen, his sole surviving sister : — ^ 
 
 Archbishop's House, Westminster, S.W., 
 19(7!, July 1881. 
 
 My dear Caroline — I must tell you of a visit I made 
 yesterday. 
 
 Our old home at Totteridge, after passing through the hands 
 of the Halls, Marjoribanks, and Lord Lytton, belongs now to 
 Mr. Boulton. He invited me to come and see it, and I went 
 yesterday afternoon for three hours. 
 
 The house has been enlarged and ornamented, but the old 
 interior remains. I went all over it. The gardens are enlarged 
 and greatl}^ improved, but the old outlines remain, — a new con- 
 servatory where the old was, the dairy unchanged, the rosary — 
 but another and larger beyond it. In front of the house the 
 iron fence is moved far down the field, so as to make a level 
 terrace before the windows, and then a bank and a lower lawn. 
 The trees are preserved everywhere, and are very fine. A garden 
 road runs down all round the water, and returns to the west of 
 the house. I do not know when I have seen anything so beauti- 
 ful within so small a space. But what interested me most is 
 the memories of my dear father and mother. They knew all 
 
 ^ William Manning was in the habit of driving every morning from 
 Totteridge to the city, a distance of eight miles, in a coach and four, some- 
 what after the style and fashion of his kinsman, "Bob" Smith, well 
 known in his day. 
 
 - Mrs. Austen, who survived her brother. Cardinal Manning, nearly two 
 years, died at the end of the year 1893, in her 93rd year.
 
 4 CARDINAL MANNING chap 
 
 about her laying out the garden, and told me that when the 
 brook Dolis was widened out into the lake, as it is called, my 
 mother is said to have spread sheets over the fields to see where 
 the view of the water would be best seen from the house. 
 
 They showed me the clump planted by my father in 1810, 
 for the King's Jubilee (G. III.), and the oaks on the lawn, said 
 to be planted by my father and each one of us. True enough 
 there are seven, the eighth is gone."^ They stand so — 
 
 ^ ... (wanting). 
 
 I told them of " Creasy " - climbing up to the owl's nest in the 
 avenue and tumbling down. They asked me to point out the 
 tree ; I fixed on the second, or third, near the house. They told 
 me that in the second tree there is a family of owls to this day. 
 So we go, and the owls remain. The little boudoir between 
 the library and the conservatory has a stained glass window. 
 The border blue, with roses on green, and the crossings 
 green. My memory is that our brother William did it, and 
 that he painted the roses, can you remember 1 Mr. Boulton 
 said he hoped you would come and see Totteridge. I told him 
 that you would be most glad if it were possible. 
 
 The family is most pleasing, highly educated, with a genius 
 for music. 
 
 I hope you are well. — Believe me always your affectionate 
 brother, H.E., C.A. 
 
 In this home, described in his old age with such graphic 
 touches of pathos and playfulness, the boy had grown up 
 amidst pleasant surroundings and in loving companionship, 
 under a father's eye and a mother's tender care. This home 
 of his boyhood, to which the Cardinal ever looked back with 
 love and reverence, was one of those happy homes which 
 are to be found scattered up and down in such rich and 
 blessed profusion all over the country, in park and village 
 and hamlet, in busy town even, and crowded city — homes 
 which are in literal truth not only the joy, but the real 
 honour and glory of England — the classic land of happy 
 domestic life. 
 
 Mr. S. B. Boulton of Copped Hall, Totteridge, has, at 
 
 ^ Martha, one of the eight " planters " of the oaks, died early. 
 ^ Creasy was one of the old domestics or farm labourers.
 
 I BIRTH AND PARENTAGE 5 
 
 my request, given the following interesting reminiscences 
 of Cardinal Manning's first visit to his old home : — 
 
 My first personal acquaintance with the Cardinal arose from 
 my being informed that he had expressed a strong desire to 
 revisit my house, the place of his birth, Copped Hall, Totteridge. 
 I accordingly sent him an invitation, which he cordially accepted. 
 I found that he described this first visit very graphically, and at 
 some length, in a letter which he wrote at the time to his sister, 
 Mrs. Austen, which letter, by the courtesy of that lady, was 
 shown to me after his death. He took a lively interest in the 
 house, and in various featui^es of the estate, showing an astonish- 
 ing memory as to details, considering that he had not seen the 
 place for more than seventy years. He pointed out the room 
 in which he was born, told me correctly where certain doors 
 formerly stood, the position of which I had altered, also the 
 suppression of a door in the Tapestry Room. He pointed out 
 the spot whereon his uncle, when he was a child, read to the 
 assembled family the first news of the Battle of Waterloo, and 
 the list of oflBcers killed and wounded. He showed in the 
 avenue an old elm tree, which was, during his father's lifetime, 
 and still is, the abode of white owls, relating how one of his 
 father's laboiu:ers fell down from it and broke his leg in trying 
 to procure him a young owlet from the nest. The seven trees 
 on the lawn planted for seven members of the Manning family, 
 and the stained-glass window placed in a corridor by his eldest 
 brother, are described in his letter to Mrs. Austen already 
 alluded to. I took him to see the spinney planted by his 
 father in commemoration of the jubilee year of George IH. ; 
 and also the " Lake," a piece of ornamental water of about foui' 
 and a half acres, laid out by his mother ; also the summer-house 
 in which Bulwer Lytton wrote some of his novels. He also 
 visited the chiu-ch, and gave the history of the picture by Peters 
 which hangs there, and which was presented by his father ; and 
 he pointed out in the churchyard the tombs of his grandfather 
 and of his eldest brother. 
 
 The village church at Totteridge in which the future 
 Cardinal first took part in public worship, has no pretensions 
 to architectural beauty ; its services which were, as was but 
 too common in those days of religious slackness, infrequent 
 and slovenly in character, left no impress on his youthful 
 mind. Over the communion-table, as the altar was called 
 in those days, hung for a long time a picture representing
 
 6 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 a cluster of cherubs. It was generally supposed that 
 William Manning's children were the original, and the more 
 imaginative even detected in the smallest cherub a likeness 
 to Henry Edward. The delusion was only dissipated in 
 after years, when the fact leaked out that William Manning 
 had won the picture at a lottery in London. Mr. William 
 IVIanning was a munificent patron of church and parish work. 
 In one of the lists of local charities is the following entry — 
 " Master Henry Edward Manning, Is." In this church there 
 are the tombs of the Cardinal's grandfather, who died in 
 1791, and of his eldest brother, William Manning. In the 
 church at Totteridge there are no monuments of the ]\Iau- 
 nings ; but in one of the City churches there is a tablet in 
 memory of his grandmother, with the following inscription : — 
 
 Sacred to the memory of 
 
 Elizabeth Manning, 
 
 Wife of William Manning, Esq., Merchant of London. 
 Died the 3rd of January 1780, 
 
 And was buried 
 Within the Walls of this Church. 
 This Tablet is erected by her Son, 
 
 William Manning, Esq., 
 
 As an affectionate Tribute to her 
 
 Exemplary Virtues.^ 
 
 On his father's death in 1791, William Manning, the 
 Cardinal's father, succeeded to the business, which was carried 
 on in New Bank Buildings, City, at a later period, in partner- 
 ship with Mr. John Anderdon, and made a handsome fortune 
 in the palmy days of West Indian prosperity. In those days 
 
 ^ In the parish church of St. Giles, Speen, near Newbury, is to be found 
 the marriage register of tlie Cardinal's grandfather, William Manning, and 
 Elizabeth, daughter of William and Mary Ryan of St. Kitts, West Indies : — 
 Elizabeth Ryan, baptized on 6th November 1732, at the parish church of 
 St. George, Basseterre, St. Kitts, married at Speen, Berks, 1st October 1751, to 
 William Manning. Elizabeth Ryan was the owner of two estates in St. 
 Kitts, and soon after the marriage her husband, Mr. AVilliam Manning, 
 founded the great West Indian house, afterwards known as Manning and 
 Anderdon. It is said that he first started in business at Bristol, where 
 he became accjuaiuted witli Isaac Disraeli, the father of Lord Bcaconsfield. 
 Subsequently he was established as a West Indian merchant at St. Mary 
 Axe, London, and lived at Billiter Square, City.
 
 I BIRTH AND PARENTAGE 7 
 
 the "West Indian interest was a factor in the political world ; 
 accordingly William Manning entered Parliament as member 
 for Plympton Earle in 1790. In 1807 — the year his 
 youngest son, Henry Edward, was born — he was elected 
 member for Evesham ; he represented afterwards Penryn, 
 and supported West Indian and commercial interests in the 
 House of Commons for about thirty-nine years. He was 
 highly respected in the City ; was for many years a director 
 of the Bank of England, and was governor in the years 
 1812-13. The late Mr. Thomson Hankey, E.G.S., head at 
 one time of the great West Indian house of that name, told 
 me a year or two ago, that he knew William Manning, who 
 enjoyed a high reputation in the City, as well as his son 
 Charles, and that he likewise had some acquaintance with 
 the Cardinal.^ 
 
 Cardinal Manning's own description of his father's 
 character and career, though long, is too graphic and noble 
 a tribute of gratitude and reverence to be omitted. 
 
 My dear father was one of the justest, most benevolent, 
 most generous men I ever knew. His refinement and delicacy 
 of mind was such, that I never heard out of his mouth a word 
 which might not have been spoken in the presence of the most 
 pure and sensitive, except once. He was then forced by others 
 to repeat a negro story which, though free from all evil de sextu, 
 was indelicate. He did it with gi-eat resistance. His example 
 gave me a hatred of all such talk. He was of the Old Church 
 Established religion ; a friend of the bishops, many of whom were 
 his close personal friends, such as Porteus of London, Bardon 
 of Bath and Wells, and Pelham of Lincoln, who had been, I 
 think, at school with him. It was under their influence that he 
 decided for me from my childhood, that I should be a clergy- 
 man. My brothers used to call me " the Parson," which made 
 me hate the thought of it. But I used to ride my pony in the 
 Park with the Bishop of Lincoln, and I passively submitted to 
 the destiny. I remember that I used to ride with my father 
 through the Horse Guards to the House of Commons, and go 
 
 ^ Mr. Hankey was unable, in answer to the Cardinal's inquiries, to give 
 any information respecting his grandfather, Mr. William Manning. In his 
 letter to Jlr. Hankey, Cardinal Manning said he made these inquiries not on 
 his owTi account, but on behalf of some one else. To me Mr. Hankey wrote : 
 " I fear that 1 can give you no information respecting Cardinal Manning's 
 family which could possibly be of use to you."
 
 8 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 in and sit under the gallery. This was when I was about twelve 
 or thirteen, my father was then member for Evesham, after- 
 wards he sat for Lymington. He was in the House from 1790 
 to 1829, in all nearly forty years. I remember hearing him speak 
 once in the House, from the second bench below the gangway, 
 I fancy, on the Opposition side ; l)ut how I cannot explain, for 
 he supported the Tor}'- Government, and they were in till the 
 year 1830. He spoke ^vith his arms folded, with perfect fluency, 
 never recalling a word, with great clearness, and with a pleasant 
 voice. He was listened to with great attention. It was very 
 high speaking, but not oratory, but he had in him so much 
 emotion, that I believe he could if he had been roused, speak 
 with true natural oratory. But he was too refined, modest, and 
 sensitive to make a display, or to overdo anything. He was in 
 danger of underdoing what he did from fear of display. He 
 was fond of reading, and had a wonderful memory, but his life 
 was so active, busy, kindly, and, in later years, so anxious, that 
 he had little time to read. After the peace of 1815, the great 
 incomes of our merchants began to fall. The West Indian 
 commerce suffered first and most. This shook his commercial 
 house, and from 1820 to 1830 he had great cares, which ended 
 at last in complete ruin. During those years he was in London 
 most days in the week. "\Mien he came down to Combe Bank, 
 he was worn and weary. He Avas fond of fishing, and would 
 stand for hours by the water at Combe Bank. He used to tell 
 me that his chief delight was the perfect quiet after the strain 
 and restlessness of London. We used to ride often together, 
 but his time was too much broken, and his mind too full to 
 allow of conversation on any subjects beyond the commonest. 
 Therefore, he never taught, or roused my mind on any kinds of 
 knowledge. But I owe to him more than this, he was a most 
 loving, generous, noble-minded man, I never knew him do any- 
 thing little, or say anything unworthy. He was both resjiected 
 and loved by all who knew him ! and his range of friends in his 
 long parliamentary and city life was very wide. Till late years 
 men used constantly to speak of him to me with affection ; many 
 with, great gratitude for kindnesses ; but his contemporaries are 
 all gone now — as mine also are going fast.^ 
 
 The following account of his mother, written by Cardinal 
 Manning ten or twelve years before his death, will be read 
 by all with interest. 
 
 My dear mother taught me my letters, my Catechism, and 
 
 ' Cardinal Manning's Journal, 1878-82
 
 1 HOME AND SCHOOL 9 
 
 the beginning of Latin grammar. She was, for those times, well 
 educated, and had great facilities for all kinds of woman's work, 
 even to making little shoes ior me. She was a great reader, but 
 not of higher subjects. She had a great taste in anything about 
 the house, and in gardening, and was very fond of flowers. I 
 used to talk more with her, than with my father, and saw more 
 of her ; but our talk was not on topics of education. The good 
 she did me was that she urged me to work. I remember her 
 saying a thing to me which did me a signal service. I was 
 reading for honors at Oxford, and I told her that I had no hope 
 of succeeding, she said very gi-avely, and without a sign of mere 
 encouragement ; "I never knew you undertake anything you 
 did not do." This came to me as strength, I was unconscious 
 of ever having done anything ; and it sent me back over my 
 school days. She had watched me more than I knew, and there 
 was more truth in what she said than I had ever known. I 
 never was satisfied with anything I had done, and I had a clear 
 sight of my own deficiencies and of the greater abilities and 
 attainments of others. So much for my dearest mother, who 
 loved me too much as the youngest, but she always told me of 
 faults, and what I ought to do. She was generous, and large- 
 handed as my father, and cared for the poor. 
 
 Speaking of his first home at Totteridge, Cardinal 
 Manning, in an autobiographical Note dated 1882, wrote 
 as follows : — 
 
 My personal memories are few, but very deep. One is that 
 in a little room off the library a cousin of mine, about two years 
 older, when I was about four, told me that God had a book in 
 which He Avrote down everything we did wrong. This so 
 terrified me for days that I remember being found by my 
 mother sitting under a kind of writing-table in great fear. I 
 never forgot this at any time in my life, and it has been a great 
 grace to me, and kept me from the greatest dangers. 
 
 I remember, also, a great fire in an oil-mill on the Thames 
 near London Bridge. I was then, perhaps, scarcely four. It 
 was at night, and the reflection in the sky was visible at 
 Totteridge ten miles off. I remember being held up at the 
 drawing-room window to look at it. The effect on me was 
 fear. I remember, also, that one day I came in from the farm- 
 yard, and my mother asked me whether I had seen the peacock. 
 I said yes, and the nurse said no, and my mother made me 
 kneel down and beg God to forgive me for not speaking the 
 truth. This also fixed itself in my mind. I have one other
 
 10 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 recollection, and that is of my annt, who lived close by, coming 
 in to tell my mother of the Battle of Waterloo. This was just 
 before we went to Combe Bank. More than this I cannot 
 remember at Totteridge, except that my mother taught me to 
 read out of a book called The Ladder to Learning, of which I do 
 not remember a word. She also began to teach me Latin 
 grammar when I was six or seven. 
 
 But my father had a house at 1 4 New Street, Spring Gardens, 
 and I have a memory there of a lady in deep mourning coming 
 to my mother and crying and swaying up and down with her 
 handkerchief in her hand. She was the widow of Captain 
 Hood, who was killed, I think, at Bayonne. This was before 
 Waterloo, and about 1812. I was then hardly four.^ 
 
 Cardinal Manning speaks elsewhere of his mother's 
 having given him, before he went to school in 1816, a 
 diamond New Testament, and says : — " I remember that I 
 devoured the Apocalypse, and I never all through my life 
 forgot the ' lake that burneth with fire and brimstone.' 
 That verse has kept me like an audible voice through all 
 my life, and through worlds of danger in my youth." 
 
 In his tenth year, 1817, Henry Manning was sent to 
 school at Streatham, kept by a Welshman of the name of 
 Davies, a clergyman of the old sort, as the Cardinal used 
 to describe him. He had as his assistant his nephew David 
 Jones ; and as usher a man named Eees. Owing to illness, 
 Henry Manning remained only two years at tliis school. 
 In 1820, when he was thirteen years of age, he was 
 removed to a school at Totteridge, kept by the Rev. Abel 
 Lendon, curate of Totteridge, which then was, and still is, 
 a hamlet of Hatfield. At this school boys were prepared 
 for Westminster. But young Manning scarcely spent two 
 years there, for he left it in 1821. It is not surprising 
 that on going to Harrow in 1822, the fragmentary character 
 of his education put him at a great disadvantage. Had he 
 applied his mind to serious studies, his natural abilities 
 would soon have enabled him to recover lost ground. 
 
 In the last eight or ten years of his life, Cardinal Man- 
 ning's mind reverted with increasing ardour to the days of his 
 
 ^ Manning was then about seven years old. The battle of Bayonne was 
 fought in 1814, and he was born July 15, 1807.
 
 I HOME AND SCHOOL 11 
 
 youth ; to his early home ; to his boyish ambitions. He 
 was in the habit not only of recording the memories of the 
 past in copious journals, note-books, and memoranda, treat- 
 ing not of events only, but of persons. Events that had 
 happened ten, twenty, forty, sixty, or seventy years ago to 
 him personally, or touching him nearly in home or in heart, 
 are recorded in the light of the present ; the impressions of 
 to-day are the interpreters of the events of yesterday — 
 though that yesterday be more than half a century ago. 
 All that I need point out — and I dare not omit the caution, 
 where grave events or the character of men are concerned — 
 is that the impressions recorded or judgments pronounced 
 are not possessed of the virtue or value of contemporaneous 
 evidence. They are after-thoughts or after-judgments put 
 on record as future witnesses on his own behalf.^ In the 
 reminiscences of a lighter character or concern it is only 
 necessary to observe that Cardinal Manning in putting them 
 down even under the form of autobiographical notes trusted 
 simply to his memory ; hence, in the following most interest- 
 ing reminiscences of his school-days, or the days of his 
 boyhood, there are several mistakes as to dates and ages. 
 
 Speaking of the first school which he attended, the 
 Cardinal, about the year 1883, wrote as follows : — 
 
 My only recollections are of my first lessons in Mrs. 
 Barbauld's Hymns, and of walking about in the playground 
 trying to think what there was before the world M^as made. 
 The school was not bad in itself, but a bad boy had been in it 
 who left a trail of immorality behind him. I was there only 
 about two years, for I fell ill and was fetched home to Combe 
 Bank, and when I got there I fell asleep before the fire, with 
 my head on a footstool, and was insensible for more than thirty 
 days in fever. The first words I spoke after that long time 
 were to ask for an egg, which before I fell ill I always abhorred, 
 and would never taste. I remember that I had wanderings and 
 thought there was a robin in the room. When I was first put 
 to sit in a chair my head dropped from Aveakness, and my night- 
 
 ^ In reference to these autobiographical records Cardinal Manning wTote 
 in one of his Journals, dated 15th Jan. 1882 : — " I hope I have never thought 
 of the future, but of the present : not of how men will judge hereafter, but 
 of how God judges now."
 
 12 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 cap was pinned to the back of the arm-chair to keep my head 
 up ; I was about ten years old ^ and was long getting well, and 
 then in about a year after I went to a school at Totteridge 
 where I was born, and stayed there until I was in my fifteenth 
 year, and then went to Harrow. 
 
 Cardinal Manning "ave the following account of the 
 school at Totteridge, which he described as fairly good, and 
 of its master, the Eev, Abel Lendon : — 
 
 He was a disciplinarian and regular. I will not say that he 
 was ill-tempered or harsh, but he was austere and we were 
 afraid of him, with a wholesome fear. I was there about four 
 years and during that time I do not remember anything of 
 immorality in the school, except that one of the elder boys used 
 to go to London with one of the ushers, and it was afterwards 
 believed that they frequented bad company. But among the 
 boys I do not remember any instance of immorality, or of 
 dangerous intimacy, or of immodest language, or of foul talk ; 
 excepting on one occasion from an insolent boy. The dormi- 
 tories Avere well watched, and I never remember any case of 
 disorder. Looking back upon that school, it stands out in 
 marked contrast to the first I Avas at. I do not knoAv that there 
 was more religion, but there was more moral purity, refinement, 
 and civilisation. Also I remember that I used to have great 
 pleasure in going to Totteridge Church, and I really tried to 
 pray. The friendships were good, and had a higher tone. As 
 to studies, of course being older I learned more, but to my cost 
 I was made to learn the Westminster Greek Grammar, so that 
 when I Avent to Harrow where the Eton Greek Grammar was 
 used, I Avas thrown out, and had to begin all over again, Avhich 
 in the end did me good. I was put too high at first coming, 
 and was kept back a remove at the end of the first half before 
 Christmas. When I went home I spent my holidays at Combe 
 Bank. I got up every morning at five, or before, and lighted 
 my fire, and made my breakfast, and read till eight o'clock, then 
 got my pony and rode to the Curate of Sundridge, the parish of 
 Combe Bank, and read AA'ith him both Latin and Greek. This 
 did me immense good. It made me like getting up in the dark 
 for the rest of my life ; and it was the beginning of self-education. 
 But my danger ahvays Avas doing things too easily. A friend at 
 Oxford used to say that " I Avas the idlest hard-reading man, 
 and the hardest-reading idle man " that he ever kneAv. To my 
 
 ^ In writing these reminiscences, Cardinal Manning was under the im- 
 pression that he was born in the year 1808.
 
 I HOME AND SCHOOL 13 
 
 cost I know it was true. But, great as my advantages have 
 been, I had not the great blessing of being intellectually 
 awakened and guided by my excellent father and mother. They 
 gave me every advantage of schools, college, tutors, and the like, 
 but they did not awaken and instruct me themselves ; and yet 
 I cannot fail to speak of them both with reverence and 
 gratitude.^ 
 
 In another of his Notes or Eeminiscences is the 
 following passage : — 
 
 While I was at school at Totteridge, I went over to be 
 confirmed at Hatfield by Bishop Pelham of Lincoln. I remember 
 that he recognised me and shook hands with me, there and then, 
 his kindness overcoming his dignity. 
 
 I remember that James Cholmondeley, Sidney Herbert, and 
 Henry Brand, who were, I believe, at a private tutor's together, 
 came to Totteridge '^ to be prepared for confirmation. This was 
 my first meeting Avith Sidney Herbert. It was about 1825-6.^ 
 We were afterwards at Harrow and Oxford together. 
 
 Although Cardinal Manning loved his home at Totteridge 
 most, he had pleasant recollections of Combe Bank, where 
 his father, on selling his house at Totteridge in 1815, 
 bought an estate belonging to the Argyll family, in the 
 parish of Sundridge, three miles from Sevenoaks. The 
 rector of Sundridge was Dr. Christopher Wordsworth, who 
 estimated that the settling down in the parish with his 
 family of so considerable a man as Manning, added largely 
 to the market value of the living. Dr. Wordsworth belonged 
 to the High and Dry Church party of that day of lifeless 
 formalism. Manning and his family imbibed at Combe 
 Bank, if they had not done so before, like religious views. 
 Speaking of this period in one of his Notes, Cardinal Man- 
 ning said : " My family was strictly Church of England of 
 the old High school of Dr. Wordsworth, Mant, and D'Oyly. 
 
 1 Cardinal Manning's Journal, 1878-82. 
 
 - At Totteridge the sons of Bagot, Bishop of Oxford, were schoolfellows 
 of Manning. In a letter to Manning in 1842 Bishop Bagot hoped the Arch- 
 deacon of Chichester would come to meet his old schoolfellows. 
 
 ^ The date is given in error. Manning left Totteridge School in 1821. 
 In 1825 or 1826 both Manning and Sidney Herbert were at Harrow. Sidney 
 Herbert, I believe, was at a school at Streatham.
 
 14 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 The first and the last were Eectors of Sundridge, and behold 
 they were very dry. But we always went regularly to 
 church ; never missing in the morning, often going in the 
 afternoon, and going also to communion at times. My 
 father read prayers and a sermon on Sunday nights, my 
 brothers and sisters all went to church and were religious. 
 I never heard or saw anything irreligious." 
 
 It was evidently not from his family or from the Eector 
 of Sundridge that Henry Edward Manning imbibed his 
 early Puritanism. 
 
 At Combe Bank, Manning made friends with the Eector's 
 two sons, Charles and Christopher Wordsworth.^ Charles 
 was about a year older and Christopher a year younger 
 than Manning. In his autobiographical Notes, Manning 
 does not mention Charles or Christopher Wordsworth even 
 by name.^ But, on the other hand, he gives a lively account 
 of his own doings and even of what books he was fond of 
 reading. 
 
 In recording his boyish pastimes. Cardinal Manning, in 
 his Notes, sometimes touched a deeper chord and revived 
 memories of later life : — 
 
 As a boy my pleasure at Combe Bank was making boats 
 in the carpenter's shop, firing brass cannons, and all like mischief. 
 
 1 This friendship is recorded by Charles Wordsworth, Bishop of St. 
 Andrews, in the following passage: — "And thus it was that in early boj'- 
 hood I became acquainted with Henry Manning, now Cardinal Archbishop of 
 Westminster — an acquaintance ripened into friendship), first at Harrow, 
 where we were schoolfellows, though I was somewhat the senior ; and after- 
 wards at Oxford, and still maiutained, I believe I may say, by mutual 
 all'eetion and occasional correspondence, though not (unhappily) by actual 
 intercourse." — Annals of my Early Life, 1806-1846, Charles Wordsworth, 
 Bishop of St. Andrews. London : Longmans, 1891. 
 
 " However, to "an interviewer" at a later period he gives the following 
 story : — " As a boy at Combe Bank, Christopher Wordsworth, late Bishop of 
 Lincoln, and Charles Wordsworth, liishop of St. Andrews, were my play- 
 fellows. I frankly admit 1 was very mischievous. The two Wordsworths 
 and I conceived the wicked intention of robbing the vinery. The door was 
 always kei)t locked, and there was nothing for it but to enter through the 
 roof. Tliere was a dinner party that day and there were no grapes. This is 
 probably the only case on record where three future Bishops were guilty of 
 larceny. Were we punished ? No, we were discreet. We gave ourselves up 
 ami were forgiven." — Strand Magazine, July 1891.
 
 I HOME AND SCHOOL 15 
 
 One day the ball went through the coach-house door, and hardly 
 missed the family coach. Rowing on the water and tumbling 
 into the pond ; and riding with Edward Douglas on ponies when 
 he was a delicate boy, hardly likely to live ; and now a 
 Redemptionist Father of singular gravity and sweetness of 
 mind and life in Rome. How little we could have thought 
 when he gave me a beautiful model ship, how he and I should 
 end our lives together.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 HARROW 
 
 1822-26 
 
 In the year 1822 Manning went to Harrow, where, in the 
 house of his tutor, Eev. B. Evans, in Hog Lane, he spent 
 four years ; but made no mark in the schools. His con- 
 temporaries at Harrow as afterwards at Oxford do not 
 appear to have been impressed by the gentle and somewhat 
 reserved and shy boy ; or even to have detected any 
 promise of the successes which awaited the future Cardinal, 
 and which have made his name famous in his generation, 
 in and out of England. 
 
 The late Charles Wordsworth, Bishop of St. Andrews, 
 at the time of the Cardinal's death, one of the three survivors 
 of Manning's school-fellows at Harrow, in a letter dated 
 1891, says : — 
 
 "My old friend, Heiu-y Manning, was about two years my 
 junior ; ^ and consequently at Harrow two or three removes 
 below me. But, so far as I remember, your statement is quite 
 correct that he was not distinguished as a student." 
 
 In his published Annals of My Early Life, Bishop 
 Wordsworth, speaking of Manning, says " At Harrow he 
 had made little or no figure." 
 
 In his Annals Bishop Wordsworth relates the following 
 escapade of which he and Manning were the heroes. It 
 was customary for parties of the boys on a Sunday to 
 make a sort of promenade of the public road between 
 " Northwicks " as it was called and the turnpike gate 
 
 ' Charles Wordsworth was born iu 1806 ; Manning, 15th Jnly 1807.
 
 CHAP. II HARROW 17 
 
 on the road to London. We met on the road two mid- 
 shipmen, out for a holiday, with more money in their 
 pockets than they knew what to do with. They invited 
 us to champagne at the King's Head inn. The inn and 
 the gardens at- the back were out of bounds. The 
 Doctor and Mrs. Butler were coming along the road and 
 saw two of his boys going into the forbidden ground. 
 Bishop Wordsworth remarks, with a touch of sarcasm, that 
 Dr. Butler, the headmaster of Harrow, had not the wisdom 
 to wink at the offence. He then relates how the startled 
 waiter bringing in the bottle of champagne said : " The 
 Doctor has seen you, and is coming in ! " " Up sprang 
 Manning and I like startled hares. We jumped over the 
 hedge at the back of the garden. We reached Hog Lane, 
 where Manning's tutor, Evans lived." 
 
 The entrance of Dr. Butler, and his inquiries, soon 
 cleared up to the mystified midshipmen the cause of their 
 guests' hurried departure. No sooner was the ground clear 
 than the audacious boys returned with all the greater zest 
 to their untasted champagne. At locking -up time, eight 
 o'clock, Dr. Butler made inquiries as to the names of the 
 boys, and Charles Wordsworth, having as senior to read 
 them out, did so with becoming gravity. Dr. Butler, finding 
 all were within bounds, was nonplussed, and the delinquents 
 escaped. 
 
 At Harrow, Manning's youthful fondness for dress and 
 personal adornment was conspicuous. Mr. Eichmond, the 
 great painter, who knew him as well as many of his earliest 
 contemporaries, says : "In his Harrow days Manning was 
 a ' buck ' of the first water, as dandies or ' heavy swells ' 
 were then called. Among other adornments he sported 
 Hessian top-boots with tassels, rather an extreme piece of 
 foppery in a Harrow boy." ^ 
 
 Perhaps, as compounding for the foibles of his youth. 
 Manning as Cardinal regarded with too careless or in- 
 
 ^ Some twenty years before. Manning's eldest brother, William, was much 
 put out that another boy in the village (Totteridge) wore top-boots before 
 himself. To wear top-boots then was, like putting off the Eton jacket now, 
 a symbol of budding manhood. In Manning's Harrow days wearing top- 
 boots was, however, no longer fashion but foppery. 
 
 VOL. I C
 
 18 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 different an eye his somewhat soiled biretta or faded scarlet 
 robe.^ In truth the Cardinal was a great admirer of manly 
 simplicity in dress ; and I have heard him point out the 
 Duke of Norfolk as a model in this direction. 
 
 It is somewhat singular that ]\Ianning in all his 
 reminiscences of Harrow and his school -boy days, re- 
 corded late in life, has not a word to say, good, bad, or 
 indifferent, of his school-fellows, even of those who in after 
 life became intimate friends. Sidney Herbert, for instance, 
 is dismissed with a line ; to Charles Thornton, or to 
 Popham there is not even an allusion ; Twisleton, one of 
 his closest friends at Oxford and later, is barely referred to. 
 But we have ample compensation for this neglect in the 
 copious and minute accounts, which Manning gives of 
 himself and of his inner life. To us he is far and away 
 the most interesting personage, if indeed he was not so to 
 himself as well. 
 
 Besides recording with natural satisfaction his prowess 
 at cricket, and the fact that he had twice taken part in the 
 Eton and Harrow match at Lords', though in spite of fine 
 play on the part of Harrow he was on both occasions on 
 the losing side. Cardinal Manning has left on record the 
 following interesting account of his life at Harrow : — 
 
 My time at Harrow was my first launch into Hfe. We had a 
 liberty almost as great as at Oxford, but it was the liberty of 
 boys; and therefore not less dangerous, though of a diff"erent 
 kind. We were literally Avithout religious guidance, or forma- 
 tion. The services in the church were for most of the boys 
 worse than useless. The public religious instruction was read- 
 ing Waller's Catechism on Sunday morning for an hour in school; 
 and in private at Evans' Ave read Palcy's Evidences or Leslie on 
 Deism. These two stuck by me and did my head good. I 
 took in the whole argument, and I thank God that nothing has 
 ever shaken it. If history is a foundation of certainty, 
 Christianity, even by human evidence, is certain. This has 
 been with me through life, in every state and age and in- 
 tellectual condition. Also the Book of Revelations, I read 
 
 ^ In his recently -published Travels Signer Bonghi speaks of Cardinal 
 Manning's faded scarlet robes and soiled biretta as surprising, at any rate in 
 an English Cardinal.
 
 II HARROW 19 
 
 at Totteridge, and the "lake that burneth with fire and brim- 
 stone," never even faded in my memory. They were vivid and 
 powerful truths ; and motives which forwarded and governed me, 
 I owe to them more than will ever be known till the Last day. 
 Without them I should in all probability have never Avritten 
 these words. My mother must have taught me my prayers, 
 for they run up beyond the memory of man, like all the 
 greatest laws, and so far as I can remember, there was never 
 a time when I left off to say them. At school and college I 
 never failed, so far as memory serves me, even for a day. 
 But how they were said, God knows, I can also in part re- 
 member. Harrow was certainly the least religious time of my 
 life : I had faith, a great fear of hell, and said my prayers ; 
 beyond, all was a blank. On Sunday mornings Butler used 
 to walk up and down in the great school and call upon us to 
 read. I only remember one thing he once said, but it did me 
 good, that when we were laughed at for religion angels were 
 rejoicing over us. As to school work, after the first half I had 
 no difficulty, and only too little. I liked the classics, especially 
 the poets, and I liked composition. We had to write Latin and 
 English essays, and Latin and Greek verse. I found a quantity 
 of Latin Alcaics and Greek Iambics some time ago and burnt 
 them with a shame at my idleness. Harrow was a pleasant 
 place, and my life there a pleasant time, but I look back on it 
 with, sadness. God was miraculously good to me ; for He knew 
 my darkness. I was fond of cricket and played in the eleven 
 two or three years ; and two years at Lords' against Eton and 
 Winchester, in which we were beaten. In truth our numbers 
 at Harrow had fallen to about 200, when Eton still retained 
 about 600. I passed through the upper fourth and fifth form. 
 Left in the upper sixth, that is, about fourteenth or fifteenth in 
 the school. — Cardinal Manning's Journal, 1878-82. 
 
 In another " Note " on Harrow, Cardinal Manning wrote 
 as follows : — 
 
 Cricket and walking was my only recreation. All the rest of 
 my time was spent in reading something, and in writing to my 
 brother-in-law, John Anderdon, who was fourteen or fifteen 
 years older ; but I was always old of my age, and we became 
 companions, and in the end in a way equals. He was the only 
 person who ever took pains with me. He taught me English, 
 as his letters and mine will show. He taught me more than 
 this, for his man's mind drew me out of boyhood into manhood. 
 My letters to him from Harrow are chiefly lessons in English 
 for correction.
 
 20 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 There are many references to Lord Byron and his works. 
 
 All Harrow boys were Byronican by tradition. Byron died 
 while I was at Harrow about 1826. The head-master preached 
 in the parish church on the abuse of natural gifts as soon as the 
 news came. I gave up Byron at Oxford. I was convinced of 
 the immorality and the dcemon Triditkc that dwelt in him. At 
 that date Byron was in the ascendant, as George Sand is now. 
 And his recent death filled many minds. Edward Twisleton 
 gave me a bound set of Wordsworth to cure me. I was cured 
 of Byron ; but to this day I have never been able to read 
 Wordsworth as his admirers do. 
 
 On leaving Harrow at Christmas 1826, Manning, who 
 had spent most of his time in indolent or desultory reading, 
 for he took no part in the sports or games of the boys, 
 except indeed in cricket, in which he took high rank — no 
 mean distinction at Harrow, — was but ill prepared to go up 
 to Oxford. His father and his eldest brother Frederick were 
 greatly disappointed ; for Henry Manning had from the first 
 been destined for the Church, and in consequence for a 
 university education, which none of his elder brothers 
 enjoyed.^ There was for a time some idea, since his studies 
 at Harrow had been so unprofitable, of putting Henry 
 Manning into his father's house of business as preparation 
 for a commercial career. This determination was a great 
 disappointment to the idle but clever boy. Besides his 
 unprofitable studies at Harrow, there was another difficulty 
 about a university education. His father had no idea of 
 the expense of living at Oxford. He had allowed his son 
 £260 a year at Harrow, and had no intention of allowing 
 him more at Oxford — no idea even that more was necessary. 
 Manning had long foreseen this difficulty, but, instead of 
 enlightening his father betimes on the subject, had kept 
 his own counsel. On leaving Harrow, when the question 
 of his going up to Oxford was under discussion, this further 
 difficulty as to expense had to be faced. In this emergency 
 he had recourse to his brother-in-law, John Lavercourt 
 
 1 His elder brother, Charles Manning, went, however, to Harrow, but left 
 two years before his brother came ; he resided at the same tutor's house. 
 Rev. B. Evans, in Hog Lane, where Henry Manning passed four happy years.
 
 II HARROW 21 
 
 Anderdon, who had married Henry Manning's eldest sister, 
 Maria, and was his staunch friend, protector, and guide. To 
 his assistance Manning appeals in the following letter : — 
 
 Harrow, Tuesday night. 
 
 My dear John — This day has a fear, which I have long 
 entertained in silence, heen verified. Until this morning, my 
 father had no conception that my financial matters would be on 
 a different scale at Oxford. He supposed that I should be on 
 the same plan as at Harrow. My mother first informed him, 
 in part, and recommended him to write to Charles Bosanquet, 
 who had two or three sons at Balliol. I do not think he would 
 afford as good information as Simon Taylor, because the one can 
 have no idea of the expenditure of his sons. If it were greater 
 than his yearly allowance, he would, I should strongly suppose, be 
 the least likely to know it. I spoke to Paulson (a Balliol man) to 
 day. He, as you are aware, was at no public school, and conse- 
 quently went as an individual unknown, and (no conceit) unsought. 
 He confessed that he had a good deal of mauvaise lionte and 
 on that account kept up no acquaintance. He said that living as 
 close as he could, having no pursuit, no hobby, no hook collecting, 
 he lived upon about £260 a year. Now for my case — let the 
 word be said that it is necessary for me to give up my Harrow 
 and all other connections, my books, etc., and it shall he done, even 
 to the utmost letter. (I am not "undecided or irresolute.) You may 
 imagine that I should prefer continuing as I have lived already. 
 I am not willingly expensive ; and have every wish, as I little 
 need tell you, of living as quietly and cheaply as lies in my power. 
 Paulson added that he thought I might live very well on £350. 
 At all events let me try ; every superabundant soxls shall be 
 conscientiously refunded. I should suppose that there are few 
 who have made more connections at Harrow and elsewhere than 
 I have, but as I told you when I saw you last, I care not for 
 above five and twenty people alive. Do not think from what I 
 say, that I wish to keep up all my acquaintances (it is a mean term, 
 but I know of none to express myself better) or to live " gaily " ; 
 but I can not live in the same manner as I did at Harrow, on 
 £260 (which I trust was not too expensive) (pardon parentheses, 
 I am almost as bad as Clarendon), the stipend Paulson received. 
 Once for all, to sum up, as Bovk : says, the whole, — if it be 
 necessary, I will give up everything except the shirt on my back, 
 and the bread in my mouth. You would do me a kindness to 
 mention this subject to my father, he vnW require the most 
 succinct explanation of every point, since he has no idea, not the
 
 22 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 most remote conception of Oxford afiairs. You may state the 
 sentiments contained in this, although, perhaps, it were well 
 should you not show the positive autograph. — Adieu. 
 
 H. E. M. 
 
 John Auderdou's personal influence, backed up by his 
 explanation of the wide difference between the cost of a 
 boy's education at Harrow and the expenses of an Oxford 
 man, prevailed with Manning's father. The Harrow yearly 
 allowance was largely increased. But no sooner had this 
 difficulty been surmounted than another of a like pecuniary 
 character arose. Manning knew how ill prepared he was to 
 go up to Oxford ; and that, in order to avoid being " plucked," 
 it was absolutely necessary for him to be " coached " by a 
 private tutor. Summoning up courage, the truant Harrow 
 boy appealed to his father on the subject, but, as appears 
 from the following letter to John Anderdon, did not make it 
 clear what kind of " coaching " he needed. 
 
 Harrow, 1th November. 
 
 My dear John — I yesterday received a letter from my 
 father, enclosing three notes from Lord Colchester, in one of 
 which his lordship gives the postscript of a letter from a Mr. 
 Wright, in Northamptonshire, saying, he fears he shall have no 
 vacancy for Christmas, evidently implying that he takes several 
 pupils, and indeed he afterwards mentions the circumstance. 
 From this, I fear that either my father did not quite comprehend 
 the force of my wishing to be by myself from my letter to him, 
 or that Lord Colchester does not quite perceive my father's 
 intentions. I have been considerably alarmed by this disclosure, 
 and wrote immediately to my father to exjDlain the circumstance, 
 referring him to you, that you might more fully make known 
 my reasons to him. I should consider the six months lost, were 
 they to be spent with a houseful of pupils, "svith any tutor. 
 Harrow would be far preferable. Explain it. — I remain, your 
 affectionate brother, 
 
 fFrite soon. H. E. Manning. 
 
 John Anderdon was again a successful negotiator with 
 Manning's father, and ended by convincing him that nothing 
 short of the undivided attention of a private tutor for nine 
 months would enable his son to acquit himself creditably 
 at the University.
 
 II HARROW 23 
 
 Fortunately for himself and for Oxford and for the 
 Catholic Church in England, Manning's father was prevailed 
 upon to give the bright, indolent, but clever boy another 
 chance. Instead, however, of going up at once to Oxford, 
 Manning, as soon as the Christmas holidays were over, 
 was sent to be " coached," like many another idle boy before 
 and since, to a private tutor, Canon Fisher, at Poulshot, 
 Devizes.^ He was a good scholar and painstaking tutor ; 
 for just before Manning's arrival at Poulshot he had trained 
 another idle Harrow boy. Lord Ashley, so successfully as to 
 enable him to obtain his first class.^ 
 
 Poulshot, 14th July 1827. 
 
 Dear Johnny — You are an old muddleheaded philosopher, 
 and seem to look upon me and mine as a satiated elephant 
 would upon a bottle of soda water. When I received your 
 polite overthrow, "I cried havock, and let slip all the 
 doggrels," (Q. diminutive ?) that my kennel could afford me. 
 I send the composition to you that you may cast your 
 eye over it, but this is not the principal reason. I send 
 it to you that you may enclose it to F. L. Popham, Esq., 
 Rev. H. Drury's, Harrow, by second post, for whom it was 
 intended and written. I do not wish you to suppose that I 
 
 ^ lu the first of his letters from Poulshot to John Anderdon, Manning 
 says : — " It rained heavily during the fifty-six miles of my journey down here. 
 I was on the outside of course, and eminently miserable and cold." In a 
 letter dated 8th June 1827, he speaks of "the three Wordsworths' unparalleled 
 success, both at Oxford and Cambridge. The two at Cambridge have got 
 five out of the seven prizes, and the Harrow "Wordsworth has got the Latin 
 Verse at Oxford." In another letter he thanks John Anderdon for his 
 kindness to the " Devils," a nickname for his Harrow school friends the 
 Deffells. 
 
 2 In an autobiographical Note dated 1882, Cardinal Manning wrote of 
 Canon Fisher and Poulshot as follows : — Canon Fisher had been a Student of 
 Christ Church, Oxford, and a second-class man. But he was a thorough scholar. 
 Lord Ashley (Shaftesbury) came to him from Harrow, he told me, hardly able 
 to construe the Anabasis. But he trained him into his first class, as he did 
 me also ; for to him I ascribe aU the accurate scholarship I ever got. He 
 showed me how to read, and what books to use, and how to make up for the 
 inaccurate studies of Harrow. I was at Poulshot nine months reading 
 Latin and Greek and learning French and Italian, reading and writing 
 poetry. I can say I never lost a moment — up early and very late to bed. 
 It was the turn of my life, and the beginning of my second or self-education. 
 We kept up our affectionate friendship till his death a few years ago. Many 
 letters and much doggerel of that period are in the packet marked 1827.
 
 24 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 state my own sentiments in this new production : should you 
 find anything misanthropic be assiu-ed it was composed by my 
 intimate friend Timon, he of Athens ; anything wrong, by 
 Melchisedeck, King of Salem ; anything stupid, by John L. 
 Andcrdon, Esq. ; and anything amusing, clever, literary, and 
 talented, by Henry Edward Manning, Esq., a hopeful aspirant to 
 the Roxburgh and a first class ; an Oxford prize poem, and a 
 niche in the temple of the muses, situated between Lord Byron 
 and my friend, the aforesaid i^hilosopher. I shall not be able to 
 handle your proposition before next week. It is one I am 
 particularly fond of discussing, and which interests me very 
 much. What news from Hering ? On reading your letter again 
 I find a few words that please me, in which you say that my 
 "letters, verses, and lucubrations interest you very much." 
 Nothing can compliment me more, 
 
 Si te forte mese gravis urit sarcina chartse 
 Abjicito. 
 
 I had a copy of Lucian's epigrams in my hand about an hour 
 ago. I translated one or two. I send you one ; which I think 
 pretty literally rendered. I won't send you Greek. 
 
 Rough Richard to the barber came, 
 
 To cut his hair, and thin it. 
 But Dick from head to foot's the same ; 
 
 Pray where should Suds begin it ? 
 
 Another, and no more. 
 
 Black Mungo fanned spare Rosalind, 
 
 As slumbered she one day ; 
 So thin the dame, so rough the wind, 
 
 He blew her clean away ! 
 
 What did you think of my "Vision" 1 did you ever see the like ? 
 
 I picked up a book to-day in Devizes for a few shillings. 
 Chalmers's Estimate of the Strength of Gh'eat Britain, I daresay you 
 know it well. Have you seen Moore's Epicurean ? (Which, by 
 the by, the little blackguard — I am glad Charles will not see this 
 — disowned, as I told you at Brighton.) I heard it very highly 
 spoken of to-day by one who should be a judge. 
 
 I find I must send two covers or I shall not be able to convey 
 all my gravis sarcina chartce aforementioned. Please to make 
 them into a parcel yourself. Odi profanum vulgus. There will 
 be two sheets and a note. 
 
 By the way you will break your neck over some old ac- 
 quaintances, in my stanzas ; but you must excuse it. 
 
 Nearly twelve o'clock Saturday night. I take up my pen 
 merely to finish this note. A few minutes more, ay, a very
 
 11 HARROW 25 
 
 few will elapse before I am ushered into my twentieth year. I 
 fancy myself prematurely old in feeling. — Good night, and 
 believe me, my dear John, ever your affectionate brother, 
 
 Henry E. Manning. 
 
 That Christmastide was in every way a sad one for 
 Manning, for on arriving home from Harrow he found his 
 favourite sister, Harriet, on the point of death. Half a 
 century after her death Cardinal Manning spoke of her 
 as follows : — 
 
 My youngest sister, Avho "was my companion, hardly a year 
 older, was so decidedly religious that I used to call her a 
 Methodist. She died about the age of twenty, about 1827.^ 
 After her death I found prayers she had written for herself. 
 She was innocent, gentle, harmless, of singular modesty and 
 self-control ; her death was a gi'eat loss to me, and left me 
 alone ; the others being so much older as to be no companions 
 to me. I was then about nineteen, and leaving Harrow.^ 
 
 Manning's own account of this critical turning-point in 
 his life shows what a deep impression this threatened dis- 
 aster — for to forfeit of his own fault a university career, 
 was to one of his temperament almost akin to a disgrace ^ 
 — produced upon his mind and character. For the first 
 time he began to study seriously. His great natural 
 abilities and aptitude at acquiring knowledge were quickened 
 into life by the sense of shame at his indolence, as well as 
 by the fear of losing his chance in life. 
 
 Writing in 1882 of this episode in the life of the 
 Harrow boy, Cardinal Manning paid a just tribute to the 
 
 ^ Harriet died in 1826, aged twenty. 
 
 - Manning left Harrow at Christmas 1826. The following account of his 
 own pursuits is put on record : — 
 
 ' ' I had no daily companion and few friends near me, yet through all this 
 my head was not empty. The library at Combe Bank was a beautiful lonely 
 room full of books, and I spent hours and days there by myself ; taking down 
 book after book, and reading much of many, and a little of most of them. 
 Those that fastened on me most were Naval ArcMtcdure, The Naval Annals, 
 Strutt's Manners and Customs, Spenser's Fairie Quccne, Walter Scott, Ivanhoe 
 above all ; Tasso, of which I never read much ; Johnson's Dictionary in two 
 vols., full of quotations, now in our library at Bayswater ; and the Encyclo- 
 pwdia Britannica, which I hunted up and down. It was all idle enough, 
 but not useless."— Cardinal Manning's Journal, 1878-82. 
 
 3 See Chapter xvi, p. 335, "Ten Special Mercies."
 
 26 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 successful exertions of Canon Fisher in preparing him for 
 Oxford :— 
 
 At Poulshot I really began to read. And I began to know 
 both Latin and Greek more critically. I gained the method of 
 study and of self-ediication which, dunce as I am, I have never 
 left off. Down to this day I keep my grammars and books 
 around me, and constantly go over them. AVm. Fisher was a 
 pleasant, manly, and good companion for me. I OAve him 
 much. And as late as eight or nine years ago, just before he 
 died, we interchanged most affectionate letters full of old Poul- 
 shot days. I ascribe to him all that I did at Oxford. When I 
 went up to Balliol I began at once to read for a first class 
 This, too, I owe to him. And though I read idly, and played 
 cricket, and rowed, rode, and learned Italian, I still kept at 
 work. — Autobiographical Notes. 
 
 Since Charles Wordsworth's lamented death, and that 
 of Bishop Oxenden, there is now only one of Manning's 
 Harrow school -fellows sur\iving — the Hon. and Eev. 
 Canon Phipps, Owing to a break-up at the house of one 
 of the masters where he and his friend George Irby, after- 
 wards Lord Boston, resided, they went to the house of the 
 Eev. B. Evans, and shared with Manning the rooms in Hog 
 Lane. Canon Phipps, though eighty-eight, still vigorous in 
 mind and body, remembers Manning well ; but did not 
 remember him, as he did George Irby, as " a hearty good 
 fellow." 
 
 In The History of My Life, Bishop Oxenden said of 
 Manning, " He did not then appear to be a boy of unusual 
 promise, but he was steady and well conducted. Many is 
 the game of cricket we have played together ; but now 
 there is a divergence between us which is never likely to 
 be rectified in this world." 
 
 In this testimony all his contemporaries at Oxford, as 
 well as at Harrow, are of one mind. He led a blameless 
 life ; not that he was not by nature open to temptations, 
 but because his conduct was governed by religious principles, 
 early instilled into his heart by his mother, and fostered 
 by a well-regulated home life. Another of his Harrow 
 school-fellows, Sidney Herbert, who lived and died in closest 
 intimacy with him, bore like testimony to Manning's early
 
 11 HARROW 27 
 
 religious-mindedness. Mrs. Harrison, the widow of Arch- 
 deacon Harrison, Manning's closest friend, in a letter ad- 
 dressed to me shortly after her husband's death, said : — 
 " At Harrow the Cardinal and my brother ^ (afterwards 
 Incumbent of Margaret Street Chapel) walked together as 
 friends ; and in after years at Christ Church — my husband 
 — those three were as brothers." ^ 
 
 Bishop Oxenden, in the History of My Life, judiciously 
 fills in the shades which were wanting in the picture left 
 of Manning by others of his Harrow contemporaries. That 
 he was averse to real and serious study, his friend Charles 
 Wordsworth, Bishop of St. Andrews, has granted ; but it 
 was left to Bishop Oxenden, clearer of eye, or perhaps less 
 partial, to put on record the early blossoming of one of 
 Manning's chief characteristics, which grew with his growth 
 and strengthened with his strength. Bishop Oxenden 
 wrote as follows : — 
 
 There was, even in those early days, a little self-assertion 
 in his character. On one occasion he was invited to dinner at 
 Mr. Cuningham's, the vicar of the parish. On his return at 
 night one of his friends questioned him as to whom he had met, 
 whether he had enjoyed his evening, and especially as to what 
 
 ^ The Rev. Charles Thornton, one of the predecessors of Frederick Oakeley 
 at Margaret Street Chapel, 
 
 2 Of the state of his mind and heart in regard to religion at Harrow 
 Cardinal Manning has left the following record : — " It was not a good time 
 with me. I do not think I ever ceased to pray all through my time at 
 Harrow. I said my prayers, such as I had learned, I suppose, from my 
 mother. I had always a fear of judgment and of the pool burning with fire. 
 The verse in Apocalypse xxi. 8, was fixed in my whole mind from the time I 
 was eight or nine years old, ^ confixit cariiem meam timore,' and kept me as 
 boy and youth and man in the midst of all evil, and in all occasions remote 
 and proximate ; and in great temptations ; and in a perilous and unchecked 
 liberty. God held me by my will against my will. If I had fallen I might 
 have run the whole career of evil. In the midst of everything I had a 
 veneration for religion. The thought of it was sweet to me, and I lived in 
 the hope and temptation of being religious one day before I died. I never 
 went to church unwillingly ; and I always liked hearing sermons, which was 
 my state when I went to Oxford. My first school was a dangerous time. 
 My second was not so. Harrow was my greatest danger. Poulshot less so. 
 Oxford was not dangerous to me. I had gained self-control. I had a high 
 and hard work for which I lived ; I never once, so far as I remember, went 
 into dangers." — Autobiogi-aphical Notes, 1832.
 
 28 CARDINAL MANNING chap, il 
 
 part he had taken in the general conversation. To these in- 
 quii'ies he answered that he had spent the evening pleasantly- 
 enough, but that he had said but little, and indeed had been 
 almost silent, for there were two or three superior persons 
 present ; and, he added, " You know that my motto is, Aut 
 Ccesar aut nulhis, I therefore held my tongue and listened." 
 
 Bishop Oxenden adds : — 
 
 This was characteristic of the after man. I was with him 
 also at Oxford ; and I hope I may still reckon him as a friend, 
 though on one subject, and that a momentous one, we are, alas, 
 and ever must be, far apart. We have met but once since his 
 secession to Eome ; but that was enough to show that our 
 affection for each other had not died out.^ 
 
 Though I do not for a moment deny Manning's self-asser- 
 tion, yet there is another explanation of his silence on that 
 occasion. He was — although I believe it has not been 
 pointed out, or perhaps discovered, by his critics — very shy 
 by nature, and unwilling to commit himself before strangers. 
 It was only by long habit and strength of will, that he 
 succeeded in overcoming or concealing his natural shyness 
 and timidity. 
 
 ^ The History of my Life: An Autohiography. By the Right Rev. 
 Ashton Oxenden, D. D. London, Longmans, 1891.
 
 CHAPTEE III 
 
 OXFOED AN UNDERGEADUATE AT THE UNION, 1829 
 
 "The child is father of the man." — Wordsworth. 
 
 On the 12th of March in the year 1829, an Under- 
 graduate, young in years, if not in audacity, rose to speak 
 for the first time at the Union in Oxford ; rose to speak in 
 opposition to a Tory of Tories in the hot-bed of Torpsm ; 
 rose to negative a resolution, moved by Sir John Hanmer, an 
 owner of broad acres and many flocks in Wales, to the effect 
 that the importation of foreign wool would lead to the ruin 
 of England ; and, what perhaps touched him more nearly, 
 rose to try the metal and temper of the sword with which 
 he already aspired to carve his way to fame and fortune. 
 
 The aspiring undergraduate, who did not as yet, in joke 
 or earnest, call himself a Eadical, Mosaic ^ or otherwise, saw 
 in the bearding of the Tory lion in his den a quick and 
 ready way of winning distinction ; and with the instinctive 
 tact which never deserted him, seized and made the most of 
 his opportunity. Though somewhat boyish in appearance, 
 he was strikingly handsome, graceful in bearing, and gifted 
 with a clear musical voice. He rose, as the veteran orator 
 without a blush once confessed, in fear and trembling to 
 speak his first speech. The sound of his own voice sent a 
 chill to his heart : he stopped short — was on the brink of 
 breaking down — but for a moment only. The next moment, 
 he stood like David with sling and stone, fearless and 
 
 ^ In describing his latest development in polities, Cardinal Manning on 
 one occasion in 1889 said :— " I am a Mosaic Radical. My watchword is, For 
 God and the people."
 
 30 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 unabashed before the Goliath of triumphant Toryism. His 
 heart rose high ; his eyes shone with unwonted lustre ; his 
 tongue was unloosed ; and carried away by the oratorical 
 spirit which possessed him, he spoke out his whole heart. 
 His hearers, amazed at his audacity, were at first silent ; 
 but stirred to enthusiasm at the musical flow of words, 
 most of them were in ecstasies of delight before he had 
 finished. The speech was a brilliant success. Next day 
 the name of Henry Edward Manning was known throughout 
 the University.-^ 
 
 After this first event in a life destined to be so eventful 
 and so full of surprises, it was noted by his contemporaries 
 that Manning ever wore a look of self-consciousness ; he 
 seemed to fancy as he walked through the halls and corridors, 
 or sat in the common room, that every eye regarded him 
 either with admiration or in envy ; oblivious that there 
 were great men at Oxford, or at the Union even, before 
 Agamemnon. It was said in jest in those days, that 
 ]Manning was self-conscious even in his night-cap. " The 
 boy is father of the man." SeK-consciousness like a garment 
 clung to him unto the last ; it may have been woven on 
 the day of his first triumph at the Union ; but I shrewdly 
 suspect it might have been discovered in the web and woof 
 of his swaddling-clothes. 
 
 To win distinction as a successful speaker at the Union 
 is a prize rarely coveted by the ambitious and more 
 capable among the undergraduates. Yet, if it be a short 
 cut to fame in the University, the ordeal to the under- 
 graduate, rising for the first time to speak at the Union, is 
 second only in intensity to that of making a maiden speech 
 in the House of Commons. 
 
 ^ Speaking of his first speech at the Union in an autobiographical Note, 
 Cardinal Manning ^v^ote as follows : — " I was half-dead with fright, and when 
 I got up saw notliing but the President's head out of a white mist. But I 
 rattled on and got a majority. I thought I had failed ; and never knew till 
 next day what others thought. After this I spoke from time to time, and 
 became interested in politics, and made acquaintance with men going on into 
 pu])lic life, and my whole mind was drawn that way. I began reading 
 Burke and political economy. I had read Ricardo before I talked about 
 wool. I had always disliked the thought of being a clergyman, and this, 
 political aspiration finished.
 
 Ill AT THE UNION, OXFORD, 1829 31 
 
 "What the Vatican Council was to Cardinal Manning in 
 the high tide of his life, the Union was to his youthful 
 ambition when the tide which led him to fame was at its 
 first flood. It was a fitting field for the display of his 
 oratorical powers. It brought him into contact or conflict, 
 if not, as at the Vatican Council, with the Fathers of the 
 Church, known in every land, yet with men destined to 
 become illustrious in the future, in church or state. What 
 wonder, then, that Manning became a constant speaker at 
 the Union ? He spoke well, therefore he loved speaking, as 
 he did to the last, whether on platform or pulpit. Again 
 we see how " The boy is father of the man." The Union 
 nursed his oratorical spirit ; fed the fires of his ambition ; 
 and inspired in his heart a wistful craving for parliamentary 
 hfe. 
 
 What Parhament is to England, the Union is to Oxford. 
 It is the cradle of eloquence, or rather, since eloquence 
 implies sense, and nonsense is often talked at the Union, of 
 that gift which enables a man to think on his feet. Call it 
 self-assurance, or vanity in action, or by any other name, it 
 is a useful quality, not too common among Englishmen ; and 
 because not common rated, perhaps, beyond its proper 
 intellectual value. The Union, if not the nurse of men of 
 lofty aims and aspirations, — the theologian, the man of 
 science, the philosopher, the poet, — is the centre and rally- 
 ing- place for those that feel called upon to lift up their 
 voices ; or who have a message to deliver to the world ; 
 or who feel or fancy that they are the born rulers of men 
 — the statesmen, the teachers and preachers of the future ; 
 or again, perhaps, of men to whom immediate recognition 
 and public applause, denied of necessity in the schools, is 
 as the breath of their nostrils. 
 
 The Union Debating Society owed its origin to S. 
 Wilberforce and Patten, afterwards Lord Winmarleigh. It 
 was frowned upon by the Dons, as Manning once said with 
 a smile of pity, as "likely to lead young men to form 
 premature ideas." The Union at first had no habitation of 
 its own. " We used to meet in one another's rooms, which 
 were small, for we were much pressed for space." On one
 
 32 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 occasion, Cardinal Manning told me, the Proctor's bull-dog 
 put in an appearance when S. Wilberforce was speaking, 
 and Patten occupied the chair. " Gentlemen," said he, " the 
 Proctor desires that you should disperse and retire each to 
 your own college." 
 
 Patten rose up from the chair and spoke with great calm- 
 ness and dignity. He said : " Sir, the house has received 
 the Proctor's message and will send an answer to the 
 summons by an officer of its own." 
 
 This quiet and dignified attitude of the Union had its 
 desired effect. Its members were never hereafter troubled 
 with the Proctor's polite or impoUte attentions. Cardinal 
 Manning said this incident occurred just before he went up 
 to Oxford ; and later in life he spoke to Lord Winmarleigh 
 who confirmed the anecdote. 
 
 When Manning first joined the Union, men still met for 
 the debates in each other's room ; but soon afterwards it 
 found a more convenient habitation of its own. " It was at 
 the Union " said the Cardinal " I learnt to think on my 
 feet." 
 
 During the earlier period of his residence, Mr. Gladstone 
 does not appear to have been a frequenter of the Union, 
 for he only heard Manning speak once. In a conversation 
 with him on the subject he said to the present writer, 
 " Upon one memorable occasion I remember how Manning 
 distinguished himself at the Union as the champion 
 of Oxford. I will relate the history of that famous 
 speech," continued Mr. Gladstone. " There was an in- 
 vasion of barbarians among civilised men, or of civilised 
 men among barbarians. Cambridge men used to look 
 down upon us at Oxford as prim and behind the times. 
 A deputation from the Society of the Apostles at Cam- 
 bridge, consisting of Monckton Milnes and Henry HaUam 
 and Sunderland, came to set up amongst us the cult 
 of Shelley ; or, at any rate, to introduce the school of 
 Shelley as against the Byronic school at Oxford, — SheUey, 
 that is, not in his negative but in his spiritual side." 
 
 " I knew Hallam," remarked Mr. Gladstone, " at Eton, 
 and I believe I was the intermediary in bringing about the
 
 Ill AT THE UNION, OXFORD, 1S29 33 
 
 discussion. We vied with each other in entertaining our 
 Cambridge assailants. I beheve, I know, in that, at least, I 
 took a foremost part ; but I did not take part in the dis- 
 cussion at the Union. Manning was the champion of 
 Byron, and he acquitted himself with singular ability in the 
 defence of a lost cause. . . ." In reference to Manning's 
 claim, that he took up from the beginning the spiritual side, 
 Mr. Gladstone remarked, " That to champion Byron was not 
 to take up the higher or spiritual side ; had he taken up, if 
 not Shelley, Wordsworth or Scott, I should have thought it 
 more in character." On a remark that, since that day, the 
 Byronic school had almost disappeared, Mr. Gladstone 
 replied, " Oh yes, of course, Wordsworth and Shelley are the 
 greater poets." In referring again to the Cambridge 
 deputation from " The Society of the Apostles," Mr. Glad- 
 stone said " Sunderland was a most remarkable man ; but 
 had disappeared long since from public life, that is to say, 
 from visible life. I don't know what became of him." 
 Cardinal Manning well remembered the incident Mr. 
 Gladstone spoke of on the memorable occasion of the 
 barbarian irruption. " Yes," said the Cardinal, " Mr. 
 Gladstone was the author of all the mischief in bringing 
 the barbarians from Cambridge down upon us. . . ." 
 
 Manning, about twenty-j&ve years ago, gave himself an 
 account of this event in answer to a letter which appeared 
 in the papers by Lord Houghton — the Monckton Milnes of 
 the discussion — on the debate on Shelley's merits at Oxford, 
 in which he ascribed the rash challenge to Manniner. 
 
 In his reply Manning said : — 
 
 Nevertheless, I do not believe that I was guilty of the rash- 
 ness of throwing the javelin over the Cam. It was, I think, 
 a passage of arms got up by the Eton men of the two Unions. 
 My share, if any, was only as a member of the august 
 committee of the green baize table. I can, however, remember 
 the irruption of the three Cambridge orators. We Oxford men 
 were precise, orderly, and morbidly afraid of excess in Avord or 
 manner. The Cambridge oratory came in like a flood into a 
 mill-pond. Both Monckton Milnes and Henry Hallam took us 
 aback by the boldness and freedom of their manner. But I 
 remember the effect of Sunderland's declamation and action to 
 
 VOL. I D
 
 34 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 this day.^ It had never been seen or heard before among us ; 
 we cowered like birds, and ran like sheep. I was reminding the 
 other day, the Secretary of the India Board (Herman Merivale) 
 of the damage he did me. He was my private tutor, and was 
 terrifically sitting right opposite to me. I had just rounded a 
 period when I saw him make, as I believed in my agony, a sign 
 of contempt, which all but brought me down. I acknowledge 
 that we were utterly routed. Lord Houghton's beautiful 
 revi\ing of those old days has in it something fragrant and 
 sweet, and brings back old faces and old friendships, very dear 
 as life is drawing to its close. jj^ -£, Manning. 
 
 3rd November 1866. 
 
 Manning, it must be confessed, joined the Union at a 
 lucky moment. S. Wilberforce had just quitted Oxford ; 
 and Mr. Gladstone had not as yet arrived. S. Wilberforce 
 had reigned without a rival at the Union. His musical 
 voice and persuasive speech, and sympathetic tone and touch 
 of mind, not only carried away his hearers, but excited in 
 the undergraduates a love and admiration of eloquence. 
 Manning was equal to the occasion ; he combined ambition 
 and boldness with considerable tact and a conciliatory 
 manner. He from the beginning was not one to hide his 
 light under a bushel S. Wilberforce's place at the Union 
 was vacant. Without a moment's hesitation Manning stepped 
 into it. How well he acquitted himself let his contempor- 
 aries at the Union bear witness. 
 
 Thomas Mozley in his Reminiscences of Oriel, speaking of 
 Manning, says : — 
 
 I had known him as a friend of the Wilberforces from his 
 first coming to Oxford, and had frequently heard him at the 
 
 ^ Arthur Hallam, whose name has been immortalised by Tennyson in his 
 
 III Memoriam, died at Vienna, at twenty-one years of age. Sunderland's fate is 
 
 related in somewhat stilted fashion by Sir Francis Doyle in his Eeminis- 
 
 cences: — "Sunderland's fate, alas, was more appalling than that of Arthur 
 
 Hallam. Just as he was issuing forth into life — all the stormy hopes, all the 
 
 struggling energies, all the tumultuous inspirations of his impassioned soul 
 
 were suddenly arrested by the grasp of some mysterious brain disease. For 
 
 forty years he remained dumb, torpid, and motionless, recalling to our minds 
 
 that mighty image suggesting itself to the poet among the glaciers at 
 
 Switzerland, 
 
 ' A cataract, 
 Frozen in an instant.' "
 
 Ill AT THE UNION, OXFORD, 1829 35 
 
 Union. When S. Wilberforce left Oxford, Manning seemed to 
 drop quietly into his place at the Union. He spoke at every 
 meeting, on all subjects, at length, with unfailing fluency and 
 propriety of expression. 
 
 On another occasion he writes : — 
 
 There are occasions that seem to defy eloquence ; but 
 Manning was more than equal to them. Some one came to me 
 one evening and observed that Manning had just made a 
 veiy good speech, an hoiu* long. On what subject ? I asked. 
 
 The question was the reduction of the number of American 
 newspapers taken in at the Union, not a half of Avhich was 
 ever read. Manning arose and began by deprecating any 
 retrograde step on the progress of political knowledge and 
 international sj^mpathy. " Did we know," he said, " too much 
 about the United States ? Did we care too much for them ? It 
 was the order of Providence that we should all be as one. If 
 we could not be under the same Government, yet we had a 
 common blood, common faith, and common institutions. 
 America was rimning a race with us in literature, in science, and 
 in art, and if we ceased to learn from her Avhat she could teach 
 us, we should find ourselves some day much behindhand." His 
 hearers were bewitched. 
 
 Any of us, I may remark, who have heard and been 
 bewitched by Cardinal Manning's platform speeches in 
 favour of the progress of political knowledge ; or of closer 
 international intercourse ; or of sympathy with the toiling 
 masses, w^ill easily recognise in the speaker at the Oxford 
 Union the future philanthropist who claimed to have been a 
 freetrader at the Union before Cobden.-^ Surely the boy 
 was father to the man, 
 
 Thomas Mozley makes some general observations in 
 explanation of the enthusiasm which Manning's speeches 
 excited in the Union that are worth repeating : — 
 
 It is a thing elders don't sufficiently l^ear in mind, that there 
 is nothing young people like better than talk. There is no 
 music sweeter to them than a musical voice that never flags. 
 
 ^ Cardinal Manning said to me a few years ago, ' ' I was a freetrader, at 
 least in wool, before Richard Cobden."
 
 36 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 They can bear any amount of it, so as it does not offend the 
 taste. Indifferent speakers and disappointed speakers may 
 sneer at it, but they have to admit that all the world except 
 themselves run after it, and cleave to it. 
 
 In his discursive and gossiping Reminiscences, Sir 
 Francis Doyle, another of Manning's contemporaries at the 
 Union, bears similar testimony to his success as a speaker, 
 and ascribes his ascendency over his fellow-undergraduates 
 in part to his fine presence and impressive manner. Sir 
 Francis Doyle, writing his Beminiscenxies more than forty 
 years after the time he used to meet him at the Union, 
 must have drawn the description of Manning's appearance 
 and manner, not so much from a memory of those early 
 Oxford days, as from impressions received later in life. At 
 any rate, Thomas Mozley describes Manning at the Union, 
 as " a very nice-looking, rather boyish freshman." Ten or 
 a dozen years later, indeed, Henry Wilberforce used 
 laughingly to complain that he was often told when he rose 
 with Manning to speak at public gatherings, to sit down 
 and give place to his seniors, whereas, in reality, he was a 
 year older than Manning, whose venerable appearance assured 
 for him precedence on every occasion. 
 
 Speaking of Manning at the Union, Sir Francis Doyle 
 says : — 
 
 Before Mr. Gladstone paid much attention to the Debating- 
 Society, the leader of our house was Manning (the present 
 Archbishop and Cardinal). Besides possessing great natural 
 talents, he was, I think, having been at first intended for a 
 different career, rather older than his average contemporaries. 
 He would always have Ijeen in the ascendant, but his greater 
 maturity, as might have been expected, increased that 
 ascendency. He possessed a fine presence, and his delivery was 
 effective. These qualities, joined to an impressive and somewhat 
 imposing manner, enaliled him to speak as one having authority; 
 and drew into his orbit a certain number of satellites who 
 revolved round him, and looked up to him, with as much 
 reverence as if he had been the actual pope, instead of only an 
 embryo cardinal. These innocent adulations led him into his 
 most obvious weakness — an assumption of omniscience which now 
 and then overshot itself."
 
 Ill AT THE UNION, OXFORD, 1829 37 
 
 Sir Francis Doyle then relates an anecdote in illustra- 
 tion of Manning's inclination, even in those early days, to 
 pose as an authority on subjects beyond his ken : — 
 
 There was a story illustrative of this floating about Oxford 
 in my time, for the accuracy of which I will not vouch. In 
 the debate on the first Reform Bill (at the Union) Mr. Glad- 
 stone attacked the Whigs for their administrative incapacity. 
 At that period he was not disposed to make much allow- 
 ance for Liberal weaknesses and vacillations. He therefore 
 enumerated a lot of trumpery failures in succession, always 
 driving the imputation home with this galling question : If they 
 cannot say the — the whole — and nothing but the — how dare 
 they thrust upon the people of England as if it were a chapter 
 out of their infallible Whig Khoran, the Bill — the whole Bill — 
 and nothing but the Bill ? One of these reiterated formulas, was 
 the barilla duty — the whole barilla duty, and nothing but the 
 barilla duty, in the fixing of which some hitch, I suppose, had taken 
 place. Stephen Denison, then a yovmg undergraduate of Balliol,^ 
 and one of Manning's most devoted vassals, puzzled himself, and 
 small blame to him, over this expression, new and strange to a 
 boy. Accordingly in all humbleness he sought out his pope, and 
 asked him for an explanation of the unknoAvn word. " Dear me," 
 replied Manning (this at least is the tradition), " not know what 
 barilla means, I will explain it to you at once. You see, in 
 commerce " (now Manning had been intended for a commercial 
 career), "there are two methods of proceeding. At one time 
 you load your ship with a particular commodity, such as tea, 
 wine, or tobacco, at other times you select a variety of articles 
 suitable for the port of destination, and in the language of trade 
 we denominate this latter operation ' barilla.' " 
 
 Stephen Denison, thus carefully instructed, went his way, but 
 in a week or so he found out that barilla meant burnt sea-weed, 
 or its equivalent, and his faith in Manning's infalliljility was no 
 longer the same. 
 
 This Oxford legend may be a mere fable, but even if a fable 
 it shows where his Oxford contemporaries thought that the weak 
 point in the future Cardinal's armour might be looked for. 
 
 As soon as Mr. Gladstone dawned upon the Union, which 
 was not in the earlier days of his undergraduateship, he took 
 the first place. How far this pre-eminence was gained by 
 eclipsing his predecessor Manning, and how far, because Manning, 
 
 1 Archdeacon Denison, in a letter dated 1890, says—" My brother Stephen, 
 long since dead, was an intimate friend of Manning's at Oxford."
 
 38 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 whose degree time was approaching, -wdthdrew from our debates, 
 to fall upon his books, I do not precisely remember. My 
 impression, at any rate, is that the two were not in full activity 
 long together.^ 
 
 The Oxford Union Debating Society, like every other 
 stimulus and spur to youthful intellect and ambition, may 
 have had its attendant temptations and dangers. Croakers 
 in that day, as before and since, were apt to fear, and to 
 prophesy evil things of every good gift given to man. The 
 Oxford authorities looked askance at the Union as tending 
 to the formation of premature opinions ; Sir Francis Doyle 
 said, that it encouraged, at any rate m a typical instance, 
 an assumption of omniscience. Wilberforce, the philanthropist, 
 and himself the mightiest of orators, cautioned his son, S. 
 Wilberforce, in regard to the Union, in the most solemn 
 words, against the danger of ambition. Of all the men 
 vv'ho have passed from out the Union, S. "Wilberforce was 
 without question the vainest of his oratorical powers. In 
 after-life, it is well known how vanity and straining after 
 effect, whether learnt at the Union or no, marred the 
 beauty of his natural gifts. Wilberforce's warning to his 
 son is characteristic : — 
 
 Watch, my dear Samuel, with jealousy whether you find 
 yourself unduly solicitous about acquitting yourself ; whether 
 you are too much chagrined when you fail, or are puffed up by 
 your success. Undue solicitude about popular estimation is 
 a weakness against which all real Christians must guard with 
 the most jealous watchfulness. The more you can retain the 
 impression of your being surroimded by a cloud of witnesses of 
 thu invisible world, to use the Scripture phrase, the more you 
 will be armed against this besetting sin — for such it is — though 
 styled the last infirmity of noble minds. 
 
 Perhaps the passage on undue solicitude about popular 
 estimation in Wilberforce's letter to his son might, not 
 without reason, have been addressed to Manning.^ 
 
 ^ Sir Francis Doyle's Eeminiscences. 
 
 ^ It wa-s not only at the Union or in his letters to John Anderdon, or 
 the line of action which he adopted on the condemnation of Tract 90, 
 that Manning betrayed solicitude about popular estimation. Later in life, 
 as Archbishop of Westminster, I have often heard his great friend and
 
 Ill AT THE UNION, OXFORD, 1829 39 
 
 On the memorable occasion of Manning's first oratorical 
 triumph at the Union, many of his more distinguished 
 contemporaries were present, all were within earshot, if not 
 materially at any rate metaphorically. Among his con- 
 temporaries at Oxford were Mr. Gladstone, Canning, after- 
 wards Governor-General of India, Bruce, Elgin, Sidney 
 Herbert, Mill, Gaskell, Sir John Hanmer, afterwards Lord 
 Hanmer, Tait, afterwards Archbishop of Canterbury, James 
 Hope, Cardwell, H. Wilberforce, R W. Wilberforce, John 
 Henry Newman, Edward Twisleton, Lord Lincoln, afterwards 
 Duke of Newcastle, Dalhousie, Governor-General of India, 
 Charles Wordsworth, tutor to Mr. Gladstone, and Frederick 
 Oakeley. 
 
 In recounting these names, with the exception of 
 Frederick Oakeley's, which he had apparently forgotten, in 
 the order given above, Cardinal Manning, with a touch of 
 sadness in his voice, said, " They have nearly all gone before 
 me." Of all these men who rose to distinction in Church 
 or State or Letters three only were li\dng on that day in 
 1887 when Cardinal Manning uttered his pathetic lament ; 
 and those three survivors — without question the greatest of 
 their Oxford contemporaries — were John Henry Newman, 
 W. E. Gladstone, and Henry Edward Manning. To-day 
 Newman is gone. Cardinal Manning is gone — Mr. Gladstone 
 remains the sole survivor. 
 
 How little did the small band of his since illustrious 
 contemporaries, who criticised or applauded an unknown 
 undergraduate's first oratorical success at the Union, or on 
 the morrow heard of his fame, dream of his or their ^'^n 
 future career in life ! And yet men say that the future is 
 in mercy hid from our eyes ; mercifully, perhaps, from the 
 eyes of dunces or sinners, but scarcely in mercy hid from 
 saints and sages. 
 
 Wlio shall tell the confusion and surprise of the forlorn 
 prentice lad, when on the sudden, while standing on 
 Highgate Hill to take a last wistful gaze of the mighty city 
 
 supporter, Dr. Ward, complain that Manning's desire to stand well with 
 popular opinion in England led him at times into adopting a weak and 
 conciliatory policy.
 
 40 CARDINAL MANNING CHAP. 
 
 he was fleeing from in despair, he heard the chimes of Bow 
 Bells ring out, " Turn, turn, Dick Whittiiigton, thrice Lord 
 Mayor of London." But infinitely greater would the amaze- 
 ment, and anguish perhaps in part, have been, had the bells 
 of the city of Spires been alike gifted with prophetic tongues, 
 and had proclaimed to the eighteen or nineteen young men 
 of mark, present in body or in spirit at the Oxford Union 
 on that memorable day, that out of their scanty number — 
 the pick of the University, I grant — one would be thrice 
 Prime Minister of England, disestablish a Church and 
 attempt to wreck the unity of the Empire ; three become 
 Cabinet Ministers ; three Governors-General of India ; one 
 Archbishop of Canterbury ; six forsake the Anglican for the 
 Catholic Church ; and, wonder of wonders, two, without 
 forfeiting the respect and reverence of their countrymen, 
 become Cardinals of the Holy Eoman Church ! 
 
 Newman, perhaps, with Ms keen questioning intellect, 
 his early searchings of heart, and his quick, vivid imagina- 
 tion, might have lent a troubled ear to the awful prophecy, 
 and striven in passionate anguish of heart to solve a riddle 
 as mysterious then to him as any conveyed in the Sibylline 
 leaves to the heathen of old. But Manning, with his calm, 
 unruffled faith in the Church of his baptism, with his sober 
 judgment, and with his gift of prudence, worldly or other- 
 wise, would unquestionably have repudiated with infinite 
 scorn the false prophets prophesying things of ill ; and 
 banned the voices of the alluring bells as tongues of the Evil 
 Spirit. 
 
 Gladstone, Ttwre suo, would undoubtedly have put an 
 interpretation of his own on the ambiguous prophecy, have 
 accepted the version wliich was agreeable to his ambition, 
 drawing a subtle distinction between its different parts, if 
 to no one else's, to his own satisfaction. As already a 
 distinguished Oxford man, the ablest speaker of the Union, 
 he would naturally consider that he might and ought to be 
 in the future Prime Minister of England, not for once, twice, 
 or thrice only, but — for his country's good — to the end of 
 his life. As alike High Tory and High Churchman it was, 
 however, morally impossible for him to disestablish a Church
 
 Ill AT THE UNION, OXFORD, 1829 41 
 
 or disrupt an Empire ; hence this part of the prophecy was 
 at fault or beyond human understandmg, and could only, 
 like the prophecies in the Apocalypse, be interpreted aright 
 by the event. 
 
 Both before and since Dick Whittington voices, if not 
 bells, in the air have spoken to the children of men, and 
 shall speak unto the end of time, or until hope ceases to 
 visit the heart, or ambition to vex the soul of man. Thrice 
 blessed are those voices, at least for them who have the ear 
 to discern spiritual intimations. How many a man, inspired 
 like Dick Whittington, has not risen up out of the slough 
 of despond and returned in triumph to the battle of life ! 
 
 Be that, however, as it may, young Manning, full of 
 hope and promise and purpose, set his foot, on the day of 
 his maiden speech at the Union, on the first rung of the 
 ladder which led him, step by step, each step taken with 
 prudent circumspection, to the eminence — not of his own 
 choosing, but allotted to him under the action of divine 
 grace — which unto the end he so nobly occupied, not only 
 for the benefit of those entrusted to his spiritual charge, 
 but for the moral and material wellbeing of the toiling 
 masses of his fellow-countrymen, in whose cause Cardinal 
 Manning was one of the foremost workers of the day. 
 
 But the uses of the Debating Society surely outbalance 
 the danger of its abuse. Sir Francis Doyle characteristic- 
 ally dilated on its social advantages. " Had it not been," 
 he says, " for the Debating Society (at Eton), I should have 
 known nothing of Mr, Gladstone, or of my beloved friend 
 Arthur Hallam, Bruce, Canning, Sir John Hanmer, Gaskell." 
 Had it not been for the Union, Mr. Gladstone would not 
 have found, at any rate not so readily and rapidly found, a 
 seat in Parliament. The Duke of Newcastle wave one of 
 his pocket boroughs to Mr. Gladstone on the strength of his 
 speech at the Union against the Eeform Bill, a speech 
 which completely electrified his hearers, among whom was 
 Lord Lincoln, the Duke of Newcastle's eldest son. 
 
 Had it not been for the reputation which he earned as a 
 speaker at the Union, Henry Manning, when he left Oxford, 
 might never have returned to take Orders, and thus have
 
 42 CARDINAL MANNING chap, hi 
 
 missed the chance — at one period almost a certainty — of 
 an Anglican mitre ; missed that far higher badge of dis- 
 tmction, a cardinal's hat, conferred upon him in reward for 
 his services at the Vatican Council. 
 
 If, in presenting the picture of Manning as an aspiring 
 underOTaduate winnino- brilliant successes at the Union, 
 second only to those of Samuel Wilberforce and ]\Ir. Glad- 
 stone, I may seem to overlook or underrate his more solid 
 achievements in the schools, it is only because Manning's 
 name was best known to his contemporaries at Oxford, as 
 their published reminiscences amply bear witness, as a 
 speaker at the Union. 
 
 Let me, however, make amends now by recording in a 
 more methodical order Manninsf's career in the Schools.
 
 CHAPTEE IV 
 
 IN THE SCHOOLS 
 1827-1830 
 
 Heney Edward Manning went up to Oxford in 1827, the 
 year after Samuel Wilberforce took his degree, and the year 
 before Mr. Gladstone's name was entered on the books of 
 Christ Church. In the month of April 1827, he went up 
 from Poulshot, near Devizes, the rectory of William Fisher, 
 Canon of SaHsbury, to matriculate at Balliol. Posting across 
 country to Wantage, he came into Oxford after nightfall, and 
 went straight to Merton, to Edgar Estcourt,^ then Fellow 
 of Merton, as Manning himself became in 1832. After 
 matriculation he returned to Poulshot to continue his 
 studies under Canon Fisher.- 
 
 Manning went into residence in the Michaelmas term 
 1827. At that date John Henry Newman was Fellow 
 
 ^ Edgar Edmirnd Estcourt followed Newman into the Catholic Church, 
 and became Canon of Birmingham. He died in 1884. 
 
 ^ In one of his autobiographical Notes Cardinal Manning gave the fol- 
 lowing account of his entrance into Oxford : — My first entrance into Oxford 
 I shall never forget. I arrived after dark. The streets and Colleges by 
 lamplight seemed to me a fairyland. I went straight to Merton, and was 
 shown up into the common room, about eight or half-past eight o'clock, after 
 the Fellows' dinner. Edmund Estcourt had undertaken to look after me. 
 There I saw Edward Denison, afterwards Bishop of Salisbury, Brakley (E. S. 
 Rankine's father-in-law), Tyndall, Hammond, and others. It seemed to me 
 awful and stately and beautiful; a sort of intellectual Elysium — as Oxford is 
 to me in looking back to this day. After matriculation I went back to 
 Poulshot and read hard. In the October following I went up to Balliol. 
 Soon after I met the Rev. Henry Woodgatc, whom I knew before in Kent, in 
 Pailling the bookseller's shop. He asked me, "Do you wish for a good 
 private tutor ? " I said yes, who is he ? " A good knowledge of logic."
 
 44 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 of Oriel; a centre of attraction for men of like views. 
 From liis residence at Christ Church dates the life -long 
 friendship between Mr. Gladstone and Newman.^ Man- 
 ning's intimacy with Mr. Gladstone was of a later date. 
 
 Cardinal Manning had to the last a vivid recollection of 
 the Eev. Eichard Jenkyns, Master of Balliol ; of his great 
 capacity of governing, and of his profound knowledge of 
 men. It was to this gift, possessed in a singular degree, 
 rather than to any great intellectual power, the Cardinal 
 ascribed the rapid progress which Balliol made under his 
 government. It ended, as Cardinal Manning once said, " in 
 eclipsing Oriel by the number of distinguished men it turned 
 out, too well known to need enumerating ; but," the Cardinal 
 added in a tone of regret and pain, " I am afraid it has 
 already lost, and is still losing, ground, both in repute and 
 numbers, owing to the development of Eationalism and 
 Scepticism under the influence of Jowett." 
 
 In 1826, Frank Newman was Fellow of Balliol, but there 
 is no record that Manning came into contact with him. 
 Frederick Oakeley, who was all through his long life an 
 intimate friend and disciple of Newman's, as well as a friend 
 of Mr. Gladstone's, and, at any rate at a later period when 
 both were Catholics, of Manning's, was likewise a Fellow of 
 Balliol ; and so was Herman Merivale, the elder brother of 
 the historian. In 1828, having just passed through the 
 schools, Herman Merivale became Manning's private tutor. 
 
 In after life, the two men remained steadfast friends. 
 To the end of his life, Cardinal Manning retained a lively 
 recollection of his first friend and counsellor at Balliol. 
 " I never knew in all my life," he told me in 1886 or 1887, 
 " a man so ready of speech or possessed of such intuitive know- 
 ledge as Herman Merivale." As an illustration of his aptness 
 of speech, Cardinal Manning quoted from memory Herman 
 
 ^ The last overt act of this friendship, on the one ]iart, was the following 
 note, written in a feeble hand by Cardinal Newman on the occasion of Mr. 
 Gladstone's visit to Birmingham, 5th November 1888 : — " My dear Gladstone, 
 I cannot let this opportunity jiass by without writing to you ; I am very ill : 
 God bless you. — Yours veiy affectionately, John H. Gaud. Newman." And 
 on the other part, Mr. Gladstone, who was much affected by this letter, 
 called at the Oratory, leaving with his own hand a letter for Newman.
 
 IV IN THE SCHOOLS 45 
 
 Merivale's description of Lord Grey. Merivale was at that 
 time secretary to the Indian Board, and was brought into 
 close contact with Lord Grey, who was then secretary to the 
 Colonies. " Lord Grey's mind," he said to Manning, " is 
 remarkable alike for its great force and its great minuteness ; 
 it might be compared to the proboscis of an elephant, able to 
 pick up a pin and pull up a tree." 
 
 At the University Manning was not, like Newman, a 
 leader of men, devoted heart and soul to the study of religious 
 questions ; nor an earnest student, devoted almost exclusively 
 to his books, like Mr. Gladstone. Manning seemed to play 
 a double part ; he was to be seen everywhere ; always spruce 
 and smart, in striking contrast to Mr. Gladstone's somewhat 
 slouching gait and careless attire. Manning took part in all 
 the sports ; was present on every festive occasion ; but, 
 though his conciliatory manners made him popular, he does 
 not appear, owing, perhaps, to his natural reserve, to have 
 entered into any intimate friendships at Oxford. He was, 
 however, always busy and on the alert ; devoting much time 
 and study to the debates at the Union. When or how he 
 managed to find time for the schools no one knew. When 
 Mr. Gladstone, who belonged exclusively to the studious set, 
 took a double first, no one, who knew anything about him 
 at the University, was surprised ; as almost every one was, 
 when in the Michaelmas term 1830, Manning took his 
 B.A. degree and a first class in classics. 
 
 The truth is Manning possessed not only considerable 
 powers of concentration and singular readiness in acquiring 
 and assimilating knowledge, but pursued a strict method 
 in his studies which he first acquired during his nine 
 months' sojourn at the Eectory, Poulshot, before going up to 
 Oxford. Under the severe training and discipline of Canon 
 Fisher, if not effectually cured of his idle habit of desultory 
 and miscellaneous reading, Manning had learnt how to 
 concentrate his mind. Undoubtedly the successes which 
 he afterwards achieved in the schools were, as Cardinal 
 Manning a few years ago gratefully acknowledged, due to 
 the training he received at the hands of Canon Fisher. 
 
 Avoiding, then, discursive reading even in regard to
 
 46 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 collateral branches of his main studies, Manning attained, 
 somewhat at the expense perhaps of richness and variety 
 of knowledge, the distinguished position in his college he 
 aimed at. Of his contemporaries at Oxford few survive. 
 In some published records, for instance, in the reminiscences 
 of the Kev. Thomas Mozley and of the late Sir Francis 
 Doyle, his name is mentioned, but chiefly in connection 
 with the debates at the Union. Frederick Oakeley, well 
 known in his day as Incumbent of ]\Iargaret Street Chapel, 
 and afterwards as Canon of Westminster, was Fellow of 
 Balliol, yet I never heard him make more than a passing 
 allusion to Manning's Oxford career. Mr. Gladstone, who 
 knew a great deal about him at a later period, when they 
 were thrown much together in the pursuit of a common 
 aim, tells me to-day, that not belonging to the same college, 
 he came very little in contact with Manning, who was his 
 senior at the University. 
 
 " Manning," he said, " kept very much to himself. I don't 
 know any one with whom he was intimate. He was not 
 intimate vdih Henry Wilberforce, nor mth Robert, Avho was 
 tutor at Oriel — afterwards, as his brothers-in-law, he became 
 intimate with them — nor ^vith James Hope, nor Avith Frederick 
 Oakeley — with all of whom I was on intimate terms. He was 
 not intimate with Newman ; how could he be ? Newman was 
 Fellow of Oriel and occupied no public office in the University. 
 I was intimate A\dth Newman, but then we had many views 
 in common. Manning and I, however," he added, " were on 
 friendly terms when we met in the University, but I had formed 
 no opinion, one way or the other, about his abihties. There may 
 be others who knew him better than I did in his imiversity days." 
 
 Besides his natural reserve or shyness, another cause, 
 which in no small measure deprived him of the opportunity 
 of forming acquaintances or of cultivating friendships, was 
 that owing to his state of health — he suffered from asthma 
 — Manning never dined in hall. 
 
 Mr. Herman Merivale, his private tutor at Balliol, 
 who, of course, had the best opportunity of forming a 
 judgment of Manning's abilities, has published no records, 
 left no letters that I have seen or heard of about his 
 distinguished pupil. In preparing Cardinal Manning's
 
 IV IN THE SCHOOLS 47 
 
 biography I have read many hundreds of letters relating 
 to his Anglican as well as his Catholic days, which he had 
 carefully preserved ; and yet I have not found a single 
 letter of Herman Merivale's. 
 
 The contemporary at Oxford who knew him better than 
 Mr. Gladstone did was the late Charles Wordsworth, 
 Bishop of St. Andrews, a playfellow of Manning's at 
 Combe Bank, and a school-fellow at Harrow. From him 
 I learnt that Manning took to hard reading about the time 
 of his father's failure, withdrawing from the debates at the 
 Union, and from social life, in order to prepare himself for 
 the schools.^ During the long vacation, 1830, he stayed up 
 to read for his final examination. In that year. Manning 
 became a pupil of Charles Wordsworth ; ^ and at his rooms 
 met, for the first time, Mr. Gladstone, who used also to read 
 for an hour every morning with Charles Wordsworth. In 
 a letter, written when he was a Cardinal, to the Bishop 
 of St. Andrews, Manning deplored the time he had wasted 
 in Oxford, and expressed a wish that he might once more 
 read — and to better purpose — with his old friend and 
 master. 
 
 The following letter was the first written by Manning 
 after going into residence in the Michaelmas term 1827, 
 to John Anderdon. The letter was undated. 
 
 [Balliol, 1827.] 
 My dear John — The Preacher saith in his Proverbs, " the 
 beginning of strife is as when one letteth out water " — likewise 
 
 ^ In a letter to John Anderdon, dated 3rd December 1829, Manning said : — 
 "I have written a letter to my father on the subject of a private tutor ; I 
 have not the dibs without application to his generosity." 
 
 - In The Annals of My Early Life 1806-1846, the late Charles Wordsworth, 
 Bishop of St. Andrews, Avrote of Manning as follows : — "About the time of 
 his entering Oxford he had, through no fault of his own, to suffer disappoint- 
 ments — serious disappointments of more than one kind — arising out of the 
 change in the worldly circumstances of his father, who had been a large 
 West Indian proprietor, but they had an ennobling effect upon his character, 
 for whereas at Harrow he had made little or no figure, he was now driven 
 to throw himself upon his own inward resources in a way he might not 
 otherwise have done. He withdrew almost entirely from society, became 
 a thoughtful, hard-reading man, and eventually took a first in classics, 
 Michaelmas 1830.
 
 48 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 is it with letter-^vriting. Five have I successively absolved, and 
 lo, out pops a sixth. You have never answered my last, which 
 I admit Avas a bolus for no ordinary digestion. As " big thinkers 
 require big words, so do long letters require long answers," and 
 that speedily. 
 
 I must set you a thesis, on which you need compose nothing, 
 but send me your dicta in about a dozen pithy canons. How 
 is simplicity and strength of style to be acquired ? Our language 
 has lost force by the importation of anglicised Greek, Latin, 
 French, etc. 
 
 I am very well and sticking to it. I'll bother them some 
 day, heaven willing, albeit they bother me now. And " woe be 
 to the day of retribution." Hang me, Jack, if I do anything by 
 halves hereafter. I will endeavour to be Csesar, I know I can 
 be nullus. But never will I be NuUoccesar, which is an amalgam 
 of craving ambition and yielding softness, inadequate exertion 
 and harassed tranquillity. Just enough of one to make one 
 miserable, and too little of the other to succeed in any attempt. 
 Read the 40th chap, of Ecclus. It is your favourite. Let us 
 both have it by heart the next time we meet. 
 
 I bought your Butler the day after my arrival, but have de- 
 tained it in order that I might receive advices from you, should 
 you think of any work in addition. 
 
 I want a bottle of spirits of wine, my last being broken en 
 route, also a great roll, like Caesar's Anticato, which is to be dis- 
 covered in Harley Street in my dormitory. 
 
 My father is about to send me a ])resent of wine : the above 
 may be concomitants. 
 
 I shall send you a copy of the Common Prayer, which I 
 esteem a gem, unless I receive an interdict. — Yours. 
 
 In the summer vacation of 1828 Manning enjoyed 
 his first experience of foreign travel. He went abroad 
 with his father and Mr. Herman Merivale to Holland — the 
 first of his travellings innumerable, as his twenty-second 
 visit to Eome in 1883, more than lialf a century later, was 
 his last. After journeying through Holland, up the Ehine 
 to Geneva, his father returned home, and Manning travelled 
 into Savoy with Herman Merivale. They were nearly lost on 
 the lake of Geneva in crossing from St. Glugolth to Lausanne 
 in bad weather, and contrary to the advice of the boatmen. 
 As there were only a man and a boy in the boat. Manning, 
 who had fortunately learned rowing at Oxford, had to lend
 
 IV IN THE SCHOOLS 49 
 
 a hand. In one of his autobiographical Notes, in speaking 
 of his first visit to Paris on this occasion, Manning says : — 
 
 I went home by Paris, and in Paris I went to the opera or a 
 theatre, I do not know which ; but something made me resolve 
 never to put my foot into a theatre again. And I never have. 
 What made me make this resolution I do not know. There was 
 nothing bad in the play itself, so far as I can remember ; but I 
 had been reading and thinking more on matters of right and 
 wrong. Perhaps illness had something to do in it ; I had 
 suftered nmch from asthma. But I thank God for the reso- 
 lution, which has helped me through life. 
 
 This resolution, taken apparently without rhyme or 
 reason, and which, in the course of half a century, de- 
 veloped into an unreasoning abhorrence of theatres, is 
 characteristic of the tenacity of Manning's prejudices. As 
 time went on, playgoing became an abomination in his eye. 
 " Theatres," he once declared, " from the penny gaff to the 
 Italian Opera, are unbroken links in Satan's chain." ^ 
 
 Perhaps as a result of his foreign travels, Manning on 
 his return to Oxford set to work to study Italian, In 
 an autobiographical Note Cardinal Manning wrote as 
 follows : — 
 
 I went on with French and Italian at Oxford. I have now 
 a chart of the Irregular Italian Verbs which I stuck up over my 
 washing basin, and learned while I was getting up. I little 
 knew what it was to end in. Before I went to Rome in 1838 and 
 1848, I knew Italian, and used to speak it with Cardi at Oxford 
 — badly enough no doubt. 
 
 In his earlier letters from Balliol to John Anderdon, 
 Manning gives no account of his studies, his companions, or 
 of life in Oxford outside the Union. It is only in the last 
 year, when his examination was drawing near, that they 
 become interesting as showing an earnest purpose. In the 
 following letter to John Anderdon, however, dated 1st 
 September 1827, from Poulshot, where, just before entering 
 into residence, he was studying under his private tutor, 
 
 ^ The late W. G. Ward, whom I had on one occasion accompanied to the 
 opera, begged me not to mention it to Manning, as the Cardinal would be 
 scandalised. 
 
 VOL. I E
 
 50 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 Canon Fisher, Manning expressed a hope that he might be 
 able to take a second class : — 
 
 My dear John — I am an unprofitable hound, and deserve 
 no better name. While you are working for ^l.s all, my best 
 endeavours can but be for myself. What am I to do 1 I trust 
 to be able to take a second class at Oxford, Avhich, if well done, 
 confers much greater honour than fifty middling firsts, on this 
 account, that a man is supposed to do that, in style, for which he 
 has been working. I am very anxious to be a good logician, 
 and that Avill I be. Don't read Cant, it is unworthy of you ; 
 only a few humdrum rhymes ; burn 'em, bvnn 'em. As to 
 Myricus, I am glad you like it, truly more than I do. Pray 
 keep it, I want not to see it again. 
 
 You have taken the very line for Coeur de Lion which I had 
 proposed to myself. The Crusades and the Holy Land have 
 been written on and talked about usque ad tiauseam; anything 
 respecting the other events of his reign would be better suited. 
 I have an idea or two for something, but I ■\\all not give way ; 
 I will retain them for some otiose moments. 
 
 I want to see you ; I shall be up at the end of this month ; 
 shall you be in London or at Combe Bank? — Good night. 
 Believe me, yours very afiiectionately, jj^ j]_ y^ 
 
 PouiiSHOT, 1st Sept. 1827. 
 
 I should like to see Forster's Essay. Where did you get 
 your little seal of Hercules ? 
 
 In the beginning of 1829, as the following letter shows, 
 his mind was still undisturbed by fears or anxieties about 
 the final examination in the Schools : — 
 
 Balliol, I2th February 1829. 
 
 My DEAR John — I shall be inclined to predicate well of 
 things on considering that you have had leisure of late, sufficient 
 to cope with Channing's sophisms. A beautiful chapter on the 
 Trinity is trolling with a killing bait, read and digest it, in 
 order that I may profit by it hereafter. 
 
 Foster's essays have been a real comfort to me lately, yet do 
 not think that I read them for the first time, ... I am afraid 
 (no, not afraid — pardon the parenthesis) I am throwing for high 
 stakes, and giving my adversary odds ; but a letter of Foster's 
 generally inspirits me, especially as a friend of mine some time 
 ago, when asked, held me up as a decided character. My only
 
 IV IN THE SCHOOLS 51 
 
 corollary is, " do it ! " I'll get up, or die in the breach ; so 
 there Ave'll leave it. 
 
 What do you think of civil and religious liberty ? The old 
 drones will come lagging out of the hive before long. 
 
 I will promise to write to you as soon as the powder ignites, 
 until then keep drying it by an occasional line. I listen for the 
 old postman's knock, with as much expectancy as you wait for a 
 Leeward Island packet. . . . 
 
 Virtue is virtue, and he's a lucky fellow who had it and died 
 o' Wednesday. Adieu. — Yours, M. 
 
 At the end of the year, at the close of a long letter, 
 dated 3rd November 1829, Manning gives John Anderdon 
 reassuring news, as follows : — 
 
 My dear John — . . . My class troubles me not, I look to 
 things beyond it. I am, therefore, not getting information, but 
 constructing my machine for future purposes. This state 
 multiplies my chance in the Schools into itself. — Yours, 
 
 M. 
 
 The following letter is a month later : — 
 
 Balliol, December, Kal. III., 1829. 
 
 My dear John — You charge me of secretiveness ; you are 
 right in so doing ; were it to make confession of my errors and 
 deficiencies, you should have them. 
 
 Busticus expedat dum defluat amnis, yet I am backward in 
 speaking of anything that may entail a false estimate of myself ; 
 there is nothing so levelling as to find others entertain a cheaper 
 opinion of you, than your amour propre has been wont to 
 suggest. Wait our meeting. I have just cast my eye on 
 La Rochefoucauld's maxims, among which I find one which 
 suggests comfort after my above declaration. Nous plaisons plus 
 souvent dans la commerce de la tie, par tws ddfauts que par tws 
 bonnes qaaliUs. You know Toilus but ill, if you think in the 
 Huncka-muncka of your last letter, you disturb his philosophic 
 indifference. 
 
 You won't know me when I come home, I am grown fat, idle, 
 and impudent. I only hope that you may have been the same, 
 on the true Aristotelian principle of " like loves like." — Yours 
 ever, M. 
 
 P.S. — Love to Molly and the Piccaninny. 
 
 In answer to John Anderdon's reproaches or fears, that 
 he was wasting his time in writing " poetry " or " jargon
 
 52 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 letters," instead of preparing for his approaching examina- 
 tion by serious reading, Manning in the following letter 
 shows how hard he was studying : — 
 
 Balliol, Tuesday night, 12 o'clock, 1830. 
 
 My DEAR John — . . . For the matter of the Gradus, 'twas 
 but curiosity that made me ask for it. The Hora Ion. I thank 
 you for. The Aldus tickles my gills excessively, and I shall 
 not fail of duly dreaming of it. I think it beautiful ; but 
 observed what you mention at first, however, I am very fully 
 satisfied and pleased. 
 
 You talk of severe studies : I must take honours, and they 
 shall be in classics ; when that is over I'm ready for you, from 
 Locke to Mrs. Barbaukl's Hymns. My leisure hours during my 
 residence at Oxford shall not be thrown away, you old Zeuo. 
 Go to a nunnery, go — More to-morrow. 
 
 Wednesday morning. — I collect from your hurried, worried, 
 and disjointed sentences that you suppose my French and 
 Itahan would prevent some of my other reading ; they can only 
 be as a recreation during those hours in which I should other- 
 ^vise be at leisure, I mean either in the afternoon or evening ; 
 morning and night being /u//. In case you should think that I 
 waste my time here, on what you compliment by calling 
 " poetry," and in writing jargon to you, I can only say that, for 
 five months, I have rarely had more, but very frequently less 
 than six hours sleep at night. Until the beginning of July I 
 never went to bed before three in the morning. I found the 
 ill effects of this to such a degree that I was obliged to forego 
 that which gave me the greatest of pleasures. Now I go to bed 
 at twelve, and am called at six or half-past. How to squander 
 the remaining eighteen hours, I know not. But perhaps you 
 may inform mo.^ — Adieu. 
 
 In the following letter to his brother-in-law, John 
 Anderdon, dated Balliol, 18th September 1830, about two 
 months before his final examination in the Schools, Manning 
 gives an account of his studies, and in a desponding mood 
 attributes to his Harrow days the failure which he predicts : — 
 
 My DEAR John — I send you some notes rough and ready. 
 I have broken ground ; and manage to arrive at or near ten 
 
 ^ The above letter, like others at the time, has no signature or date. 
 Generally Manning's letters at this period are signed with an " M " almost 
 lost in flourishes.
 
 IV IN THE SCHOOLS 53 
 
 hours a day. How profitable this may be I dare not predict. 
 I find myself very much altered, and so far as Oxford is con- 
 cerned not much for the better. I am sensibly less able to 
 contend with matter of which I see not the rationale. I have 
 been somewhat compromised between real life — laugh not — and 
 Oxford life. In the one, I am compelled to estimate things by 
 their intrinsic importance, in the other, to attribute an impor- 
 tance which belongs not to them. I thank heaven my time is 
 nigh, and feel no hesitation in saying so, seeing that I am con- 
 vinced the longer I delay my examination the further I am from 
 the highest honours. This I am enabled to explain. I have had 
 opportunity of late to analyse my budget, and I find the truest 
 exemplification of the old dogma, that everything has its result, 
 and every hour we spend has an unknown and distinct influence 
 over our future times. On examining my own state, I find my- 
 self thus situated. In all the reading proper to that age during 
 which a boy is at school, I am insecure, even to the foundation. 
 Exertions must be made subsequently, and some I have endea- 
 voured since leaving HarroAv to make, but the seed-time was 
 passed, and all the acquisition I was enabled to make fell very 
 short of what I ought already to have mastered. These very 
 exertions, being late in themselves, were relatively misapplied in 
 that they should have been directed to the studies proper to the 
 period at which I had arrived. " There is a time for all things," 
 and in matters of study (as regards the University at least) 
 " there is a thing for all times." Disarrange this, by attempting 
 late in life to be a boy, and you walk on imcertain footing — 
 incedis per ignes suppositos cineri doloso. In all the most of the 
 reading proper to my university course I feel myself more con- 
 fident, I have not done amiss with it, save where the attempt to 
 make good old deficiencies has interrupted my attention. This 
 gives me comfort as regards my own power of application and 
 comprehension. I must fail here, although I neither despond 
 nor despair, you know my sentiments too well to need much 
 asseveration on this point. I almost fear I am too indifferent ; yet 
 I pledge myself to work it through. I said I must fail, and my 
 failure will be a result of my Harrow days. Inattention then 
 causes deficiency now, and so it is. Jack, through life. — Yours, 
 
 M. 
 
 In the following letter Manning shows that he has 
 recovered his self-confidence, and writes in a hopeful tone 
 and in high spirits : — 
 
 Saturday Night, IQth October 1830. 
 
 My dear John — ... In bodily health I never was
 
 54 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 better, and, if possible, my mental convalescence is the more 
 worthy of marvel. I assure you I never have been so quiet, so 
 imperturbable and happy, for years. Why, I scarcely dare com- 
 mence to explain. I look forward to my examination with just 
 so much confidence as you would desire, and misgiving as I 
 deem ine\dtable. Some of my books, and they the most difficult 
 and important, I think I shall most unimpeachably maintain. 
 Butler, Aristotle, and Demosthenes. These are the only points 
 to which inclination as well as prudence have powerfully led 
 me, and I do not think I shall greatly disgrace myself when I 
 render account of my intimacy with them. I confess I delight 
 in them. Two of the greatest masters of ratiocination, and one 
 the single orator of six thousand years — barring (Chrysostom and) 
 St. Paul alone. Of my other books, my Greek poetry and history, 
 it must be a very illiberal selection of indocile passages greatly to 
 discompose me. Of my di\anity I have not much fear, although 
 it is an inexhaustible and perilous subject. So far so good, of 
 papers, essays, and translations, I hope to keep my way ; of such 
 matters as Virgil and Livy, in which my younger days should 
 have been well saturated, I say nothing. We must hope for the 
 best. All the most difficult parts of my list, I expect to find 
 my strong points. I have freely given you my thoughts in the 
 confidence that you neither communicate nor misconstrue them. 
 Now for the other side, contingencies such as examiners, with 
 their respective \'iews, theories, crotchets, picked passages, and 
 talents, more or less, are amply sufficient to throw the odds 
 against the best prepared of men. That am I not. I am the nil 
 fuit unquam tarn dispar tihi. Disproportionately strong in some 
 parts and weak in others. Mine is a bold manoeuvre, strength- 
 ening some points of my line, and confiding in the success of my 
 tactics. You will see I am somewhat buoyant, not expectant 
 note me, this I will explain ; so much for intellectualism. . . . 
 
 In another letter about the same date, Manning wrote 
 as follows : — 
 
 My DEAR John — My buoyancy is the result of a due and 
 deliberate investigation of my own ability, and a recognition 
 of consistency in observing a specific line of operation. I have 
 worked very steadily, and I may almost dare to add effectively. 
 I have at least discovered that I am not of so weak a purpose, as 
 I myself, nor so unmanned, as you, thought fit to deem me some 
 months ago. All the confidence, I ever felt in looking forward, 
 has returned upon me tenfold, and if I be not insuperably ob- 
 structed I will approve my convictions. I do not expect so
 
 IV IN THE SCHOOLS 55 
 
 much as to falter in the Schools ; this is a moral, not an intel- 
 lectual principle. I have seen many men pleading ill-health, or 
 nervelessness, or such like pretexts. I will none of them. To 
 say so and to do so is equally an act of volition. No false 
 estimate shall be made of me. If I fail, I will fail in Livy, not 
 in steadiness of principle. If my hopes are ever realised, if the 
 aspirations I dare entertain are ever met, I shall stand in many 
 a more perilous position ; such as will require not only in- 
 tellectual acquirements, but moral courage to collect and employ 
 them. I will try and take a first in this, if not in Uteris 
 humanioribus. 
 
 A circumstance happened this evening, scarcely worth record- 
 ing although in my present state it struck me forcibly. You 
 will remember opening the Bible on passages, as it were of an 
 appropriate signification, to gain their state of mind. This 
 evening it so fell out that I was the senior undergraduate in 
 chapel, an occurrence to me for the first time, it was con- 
 sequently my duty to read the lessons ; the first of which was 
 the eighth chapter of the Book of Wisdom. Turn you to it. 
 It is the precise theory I have been long revolving. Look 
 more especially at the verses 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, which my mind 
 unhesitatingly incorporated with the Utopian aspirations seldom 
 absent from my mind. That chapter contains the perfection of 
 human character. I was so struck that, although I proceeded 
 in the orthodox tone of voice, I had little thought of my con- 
 gregation. To seek assimilation with such an exemplar is a 
 calling transcendently glorious. I feel the inadequacy of 
 language to figure out to you the ineffable resolves elicited by 
 the entire chapter. But whither are we tending ? 
 
 Hope not a life from grief and troubles free, 
 Nor think the doom of man reversed for thee. 
 Deign on the passing world to cast your eyes, 
 And pause awhile from letters to be wise. 
 
 This wisdom is to know such theories are theories still. Stub- 
 born circumstance and slender abilities, vain conceits and mis- 
 guided imaginations, these are the amalgam of oiu" nature and 
 its sphere of action. I almost fear the moral of the chapter to 
 be — son of man, thou seest how high the heaven is above the 
 earth, so high is His wisdom above thy wisdom, and this glory 
 He alone can give, above that which thou canst attain to. 
 
 Time flies, I must to bed. In six or seven weeks we will 
 discuss not correspond. — Yours truly, M. 
 
 P.S. — I wrote this late last night what time I was " filled 
 as the moon at the full." If it be rabid or rampant, forgive me.
 
 56 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 Full of his approaching examinations in the Schools, 
 Manning wrote again as follows : — 
 
 Balliol, 2Uh October 1830. 
 
 ]\Iy dear John — ... In the commencement of December 
 my examination ■will in all probability be at an end. During 
 the last week I shall do but little. I hope to have closed all 
 my books in about three weeks from the present moment. No 
 great gun, but charged as far as his present opportunities permit. 
 I will not again express my own impertui^bed state of mind. I 
 see that nothing can be done very materially to alter my case, 
 what can be effected will be effected — a bold guarantee. I deem 
 my present trial more one of moral courage and presence of 
 mind. In neither of these WILL I be wanting. I fear it not, 
 I await it not -with dread or anxiety. If my future hopes be 
 realised, many will be the more difficult positions in which I 
 shall be placed. I have gained of late an estimate of my own 
 power (forgive the word) of which before I did not dream, and 
 finally I discover the nearer my cause of perturbation approaches 
 the more confirmed my own collectedness becomes. From the 
 day on which I ceased to vegetate, 1827, to the present moment 
 I never felt so really happy. The decision of others may deprive 
 me of the object for which I have run. I impugn not its equity, 
 and scarce entertain a regret as to its character ; moreover, the 
 only regret is that some who take an interest in my attempt may 
 be through my instrumentality disappointed. Of this, however, 
 nothing can deprive me, the reflection that, during nearly four 
 years, I have maintained a steady course ; there have been a few 
 voluntary derelictions, a few involuntary deviations, some have 
 been the result of our weak moral nature, some of our treacher- 
 ous physical constitution. By the latter, are you aware I have 
 been made somewhat eccentric ? I hope, however, a short 
 period of more active life, a change of scenes and thoughts and 
 pursuits, may exterminate all remnants of a troublesome ailment. 
 
 Write as often as you are able, and ])clieve me, etc., M. 
 
 The above letters, written at the close of his Oxford 
 career, redeem Manning's voluminous correspondence with 
 John Anderdon from the reproach of flippancy, love of 
 ostentation and egotism. They show forth in a striking 
 fashion the chief qualities and strength of his character — 
 will-power, tenacity of purpose, self-confidence and self- 
 control, readiness of resource, and a rare capacity of making 
 the most of his talents and opportunities. In these moral
 
 IV IN THE SCHOOLS 57 
 
 qualities, as he said of himself — " I will at all events take 
 a first class." And so he did. It was these qualities, 
 more than intellectual attainments, which obtained for him 
 a first class. They did far more ; they stood him in good 
 stead in many a difficulty in the battle of life ; they 
 obtained for him many a victory. Their possession, in a 
 word, was the secret of his success in after-life. 
 
 In the following autobiographical Note, Cardinal Manning 
 gives an account of his relations with his brother-in-law, 
 John Anderdon, and explains the cause of the stilted 
 style of his letters : — 
 
 My letters are a strange mixture of wild wandering — some- 
 times grave, mostly jocular — in an undergraduate slang of 
 grandiloquence, which if it had been serious would have been 
 conceited. John Anderdon was always telling me that I was 
 irresolute, undecided, and over-cautious. I was so, for I had 
 not found either my end or my way in life. This did me much 
 good. Indeed, I owe to him all the moral guidance I ever had. 
 The life of Oxford Avas delightful to me. I read hard and yet 
 idled. R. B.^ said I was the idlest hard-reading man and the 
 hardest-reading idle man he ever knew. It is very true. I 
 had made up my mind at Poulshot to read for a first class in 
 classics. I was always fond of mathematics, but had read so 
 little that I could not read more than was required for the first 
 examination. I much regret this now. I went on with French 
 and Italian at Oxford. I have now a chart of irregular Italian 
 verbs which I stuck over my washing basin, and learned whilst I 
 was getting up. I little knew what it was to end in. Before I 
 went to Rome in 1838 and 1848 I knew Italian and used 
 to speak it with Cardi at Oxford, badly enough no doubt. 
 During my years there, the only record remaining is in my 
 letters to John Anderdon. I was learning English that made 
 me write in a style which reads like grandiloquent self-con- 
 sciousness. But the truth is that I was reading the old seven- 
 teenth-century English, and knew no other ; my great delight 
 was Barrow's Sermons which are Latinistic and formal to excess, 
 but equally grand. Later on I read Hooker, Jeremy Taylor, 
 and the like. They filled my head with Latin-English, and 
 polysyllabic words. My letters are full of dpm'eia, saying half 
 my meaning, and ashamed of saying too much, and yet saying 
 
 ^ Robert Bevan, brother of Miss Bevan, Manning's "spiritual mother" 
 in those days.
 
 58 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 too much, and thinking aloud about myself, in a Avay that would 
 be intolerably egotistical if it had not been to a brother-in-law, 
 who was like a physician to a patient. To him I thought aloud 
 about myself, my future, and my aspirations. To anybody else 
 it would have been egotism and vain-glory. But to him it was 
 a kind of manifestation of conscience. — Cardinal Manning's 
 Reminiscences. 
 
 About Manning's undergraduate pursuits, the late Master 
 of Balliol, in the follov?ing letter, named the only person 
 now living at all likely to be able to give information : — 
 
 Balliol College, 21st July 1893. 
 
 Dear Mr. Purcell — I send you what I have been able to 
 learn about Cardinal Manning. The only person at all likely 
 to know anything about his undergraduate days is the Rev. E. 
 D. Wickham, an old member of the College, who has told me 
 that he used to box with the Cardinal in the days of his youth ; 
 also Sir Thomas Acland and Lord SelbouiTxC.^ — I remain, dear 
 sir, yours truly, B. JowETT. 
 
 The Rev. E. D. Wickham speaks of Manning in bis 
 undergi'aduate days as follows : — 
 
 The Holmwood Vicarage, 
 
 Dorking, 29th August 1893. 
 
 Dear Sir — I fear I can be of no use to you, as you so 
 naturally wish in your biographical position. Sixty-five years 
 have passed since my first entrance into Balliol, and our 
 excellent master credits me with, rather more intimacy vrith 
 Manning than I really had. His rooms were on the ground- 
 floor on the first staircase to the right on entering, under the 
 tower. Immediately over him was Mr. Round, the tutor. Then 
 Toogood, an undergraduate, and in the garret above, myself as a 
 freshman.^ Manning was about a year older in standing than I 
 was, but, living on the same staircase, wc knew one another, and 
 it may amuse you to know that my memories of om* intercourse 
 are chiefly " combative " ! That is, we engaged a certain 
 
 ^ lu a letter, dated September 1893, Lord Selbourne said — "I had left 
 Oxford before Cardinal Manning came, and was not acquainted with him, 
 to my regret, in after-life. My brother, William Palmer, was a contemporary 
 and friend of his at Oxford." 
 
 ^ The party of four inhabiting rooms on the same staircase — Mr. Round, 
 the tutor. Manning and Toogood, undergraduates, and the happy freshman 
 in the garret— were known in Oxford as "The happy family."
 
 IV IN THE SCHOOLS 59 
 
 notorious pugilist to teach us what was then esteemed as the 
 " noble art of self-defence." This was a way in which under- 
 graduates then took exercise, and it was partly necessary from 
 the disgraceful " Town and Gown " skirmishes which were then 
 frequent — so Manning and I often boxed together; and so I 
 have said in joke, in after-life, that I had proved my Pro- 
 testantism practically by striking Cardinal Manning, I remem- 
 ber his once saying to me in connection with this exercise, " It 
 is a good thing to learn boxing, for it will make one cautious of 
 picking a quarrel with a small cad who might be more than a 
 match for our skill." I can only add that the future Cardinal 
 was a very quiet and well-conducted undergraduate. He gave 
 no token of special ability, but his conduct was irreproachable — 
 unless you consider " boxing " a reproach. 
 
 Manning was too steady, I think, to have part in some of the 
 proceedings recorded in my recently published Old Memories of 
 Balliol—Yonvs truly, E. D. Wickham. 
 
 In the midst of his hopes and fears about the result of 
 his examination, to make an " oration " at the Union was 
 still a temptation to the aspiring undergraduate, as the 
 following letter shows : — 
 
 Smiday, 7th November 1830. 
 
 Dear John — Do not think me selfish in begging you to 
 write to me, if it be but ten lines, with some condensed pabulum 
 animi. 
 
 I long to make an oration in our society, they have enlarged 
 the room, and it is very respectable. Party runs very high, 
 and I anticipate great amusement. I almost fear the approach 
 of the vac. before I get well free. — Yours, M. 
 
 Thursday Evening, 25th November 1830. 
 
 My dear John — I write in great haste, only to desire you 
 to think of me at half-past ten o'clock, by which time I shall be 
 weU buckled to. I have passed two days of my examination — 
 on paper. It began earlier than I expected. 
 
 I am very well, and begin to look to the end. I have thus 
 far verified all my promises about coolness, and at this moment, 
 although someAvhat subdued, I admit, am very philosophic and 
 unperturbed. Write to me a letter in the morning — cheer me 
 up. — Yours, H. E. M. 
 
 The late INIaster of Balliol, Professor Jowett, kindly gave 
 me every information to be obtained at Balliol about 
 Manning from the date of his matriculation, 2nd April
 
 60 
 
 CARDINAL MANNING 
 
 1827, to his final examination in the Schools. Professor 
 Jowett gave me also a copy of the class list, Michaelmas 
 Term 1830, together with a fuller list in Latin,^ containing 
 the names of the examiners, among whom was Eobert 
 Wilberforce, who in later years was Manning's most 
 intimate friend. 
 
 Class List, Michaelmas Term 1830. 
 In Literis Hunianioribus. 
 
 Anstice, J., 
 Hamilton, W. K., 
 Manning, H. E., . 
 Palmer, "\V., 
 Walker, J. K, . 
 Wilberforce, H. W 
 
 Christ Chm-ch. 
 
 Christ Church. 
 
 Balliol. 
 
 Magdalene. 
 
 Balhol. 
 
 Oriel. 
 
 B.A. Degree, Michaelmas Term 1830. 
 
 On successfully passing his examination, and obtaining 
 a first class in Classics,^ Manning wrote to his father 
 
 ^ Nomina Candidatokum 
 
 Termino Michaelis a.d. Mdcccxxx. Qui honore digni sunt habiti, in 
 unaquaque classe secundum ordiuem alpliabeticuni disposita. 
 
 IN LITERIS HUMANIORIBUS. 
 
 Classis I. 
 Anstice Josephus ex Mdo Christi. 
 Hamilton Gualterus ex ^de Christi. 
 Manning Henricus E. e Coll. Ball. 
 Palmer Gulielmus e Coll. Magd. 
 Walker Joannes E. e Coll. Ball. 
 Wilberforce Henricus G. e Coll. Oriel. 
 
 IN DISCIPLINIS MATHEMATICIS 
 ET PHYSICIS. 
 
 Classis I. 
 Anstice Josephus ex .^de Christi. 
 
 Classis II. 
 Wilberforce Henricus G. e Coll. Oriel. 
 
 J. Williams 
 
 J. Gakbett 
 
 R. Martin 
 
 R. I. Wilberforce t 
 
 C. H. Cox 
 
 G. Moberly I 
 
 Exaniina- 
 tores in 
 Literis 
 
 Huniani- 
 oribus. 
 
 G. Kay 
 
 
 Examinatores 
 
 „ „ L ^" Disciplinis 
 
 U. KIGGS h IMathcmaticis 
 
 H. Reynolds J et Physicis. 
 
 ^ In his Journal 1878-82, Cardinal Manning wrote as follows : — "In the 
 schools Wm. Palmer and I sat side by side at the same table writing. 
 Of the six in that first class, unless Walker l)e living, wliich I do not know, 
 I alone survive. Anstice soon went ; Hamilton, H. Wilberforce, and Palmer 
 are gone."
 
 rv IN THE SCHOOLS 61 
 
 the gratifying news. The letter was duly endorsed as 
 follows : — 
 
 To-day my son Henry puts on the bachelor's gown at 
 Oxford. 
 
 In a letter to which I have already referred, Charles 
 Wordsworth said : — " On leaving Oxford, Manning's religious 
 opinions were quite unformed." This statement was con- 
 firmed by Cardinal Manning, who, in one of his autobio- 
 graphical Notes, referring to this period of his life, said : 
 — " I had never given a thought to Orders or Apostolical 
 Succession, and had but a vague conception of the Church ; 
 but I had always believed in Baptismal Eegeneration," 
 
 Unlike " the band of earnest young men " who used to 
 meet in Newman's rooms at Oriel,^ Manning had formed no 
 religious opinions, one way or the other. He never took 
 part in what Newman called the conciliabula, often held in 
 the common rooms of different colleges. Ecclesiastical 
 questions ; or rather the study and attempts at solving 
 profound problems affecting religious faith or Church 
 government, which were stirring the hearts and minds of 
 Newman and Hurrell Froude and their immediate followers, 
 the future leaders of, or fellow-workers in, the Tractarian 
 movement, had no interest for Manning. His heart was 
 in the Union. To talk or teach politics to admiring 
 disciples like Stephen Denison ^ was his delight. For this 
 purpose — out of the Schools — his reading was directed to 
 writers on political economy like Eicardo and Adam Smith. 
 
 Though he used occasionally to attend Newman's famous 
 sermons at St. Mary's — sermons which exercised so pro- 
 found and far-reaching an influence — and though he even 
 enjoyed the advantage — at least during his last term — of 
 personal intercourse with Newman, it was not within the 
 walls of Oxford that Manning fell under the influence of 
 religion. It was not the pulpit of St. Mary's, not the 
 voice of Newman, that first aroused the deeper sense of 
 religious life in the heart of Manning. Misfortunes of a 
 
 ^ Newman at that time was one of the greatest Dons at Oxford, and was 
 intimate only with those who shared his views and ecclesiastical tastes. 
 ^ Brother to Edward Denison, afterwards Bishop of Salisbury.
 
 62 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 twofold kind, according to the testimony of the one of all 
 his contemporaries who knew him best at Oxford, had 
 prepared the way for a change of heart. It was not at 
 Oxford under the stir and stress of intellectual discussions 
 or controversial inquiries that what Manning himself 
 described as his " conversion," took place, but in the quietude 
 of a country house under the benign influence of a pious 
 Evangelical lady. " At Trent Park, near to us at Kipperton, 
 my brother Henry," his sole surviving sister ^ once told me, 
 " used often to spend his vacations with the Bevans, friends 
 of ours." Eobert Bevan (afterwards a great banker) was a 
 zealous Evangelical, and one of j\Ianning's friends at Oxford ; 
 he was likewise a friend and fellow -worker with John 
 Anderdon, Manning's brother-in-law, in the great Evangelical 
 cause, in which Miss Bevan, Robert's sister, was even more 
 deeply interested. 
 
 In that day, before the Tractarian JMovement had 
 awakened the Church of England out of its long lethargy ; 
 before the ardour, faith, and inspiring genius of Newman had 
 transformed the High and Dry Churchism of that dismal 
 period into a life-breathing body, the Evangelical party 
 alone preserved and kept alive — whatever else they may 
 have neglected or rejected — active belief in the Atonement 
 and a personal love of the Lord. Robert Bevan and his 
 sister were of this school of pious opinion, and into their 
 hands Manning, who, as we have seen, had no formed 
 religious opinions of his own, surrendered himself. 
 
 The happy influence which Miss Bevan, whom he used 
 to call his " spiritual mother," exercised over his mind in 
 that time of sorrow, depression of heart, and disappointment 
 was well described in a letter, which the late Lord Forester, 
 Dean of York, wrote to the Times, dated 20th January 1892, 
 a few days after Cardinal Manning's death. The following 
 extracts show the spiritual influence exercised over Henry 
 Manning's mind by Miss Bevan : — 
 
 . . . Henry Manning was a schoolfellow of Miss Bevan's 
 
 ^ Since these pages were in type, Mrs. Austen, who survived Cardinal 
 Manning nearly two years, has passed away.
 
 IV IN THE SCHOOLS 63 
 
 brother Robert, and was wont to spend the greater part of his 
 holidays at Trent Park. She told me they were as brother and 
 sister, " so much so, that if he were to come into this room now I 
 should talk to him like my brother." His great desire was to 
 enter Parliament, but his father having lost all his property, his 
 prospects in that direction were dashed to the ground. His 
 chief failing, in those days, was excessive ambition. He would 
 say that what he should like, if in the House of Commons, would 
 be to take up some great cause alone, to have the whole Senate 
 against him, but, by dint of persevering advocacy, to conquer 
 and carry his point. These were his dreams. After his father's 
 losses, which changed his whole career, when he next came to 
 Trent, she perceived how depressed he was : in their walks 
 together she endeavoured to cheer him, telling him there were 
 higher aims still that he had not thought of. " What are they ? " 
 She replied " The kingdom of Heaven ; heavenly ambitions are 
 not closed against you." He listened, and said, in reply, he did 
 not know but she was right. She suggested reading the Bible 
 together, saying that she was sure her brother Robert would 
 join them. This they did during the whole of that Vacation, 
 every morning after breakfast. It was her conviction that this 
 was the beginning of Henry Manning's religious life. He always 
 used to speak of her as his spiritual mother. When the time 
 came for him and her brother Robert to return to Oxford, she 
 proposed that they should continue reading the same portions 
 together, he and her brother at Oxford, and she at Trent, and 
 they were to correspond on the subjects. The result was that 
 she had piles of his letters. After his change of faith, and 
 when she was living at Broseley, he ^vrote to her, asking her to 
 return him his letters, as he said they might compromise him. 
 With regret she sent them all back to him, asking him, at the 
 same time, to return hers to her. In reply, he said, if she 
 would allow him to keep them he would wish to do so. I 
 recollect when she told me she had consented, she added, " I 
 think I Avas wrong ; it was vanity, perhaps, that induced me, I 
 have thought since that he might make an unfair use of them." 
 This correspondence, if still in existence, from two such persons 
 as Henry Manning and my friend Mrs. T. Mortimer would be 
 most interesting. She was a remarkable woman, full of anecdote, 
 and the most agreeable conversational companion it was ever my 
 lot to meet. Her residence, as my neighbour, at Broseley, was a 
 great gain to me, and she was invaluable as a help in the parish. 
 In those early days, when she saw a good deal of Manning, 
 he would go with her to hear preachers whom she thought 
 highly of. She took him to hear Dr. M'Neile in his palmy days.
 
 64 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 He was much taken with M'Neile's eloquence, thinking it 
 of a higher order than Canning's. He went with her to hear 
 William Howells of Longacre Episcopal Chapel, a very popular 
 and striking preacher of that date. Of him, he said he was 
 unintelligible. If he did not agree with any writer he would 
 get quite angry with any statements put forth, and think it was 
 easy to refute them. Some points in the theology of Thomas 
 Scott, the Commentator, quite stirred him with anger. ^ 
 
 The fact that in his numerous letters to John Anderdon 
 the subject of religious belief was not discussed, though they 
 were filled with talks about politics, philosophy, poetry, and 
 " orations " at the Union, is accounted for by the evidence 
 of Miss Bevan as given by the late Lord Forester, Dean of 
 York. In an autobiographical Note Cardinal Manning 
 gives the date of his conversion as 1830, and alludes with 
 
 ^ In the conclusion of his letter Lord Forester refers to his ovm relations 
 with Cardinal Manning as follows: — "About three or four years before 
 Mrs. Mortimer came to reside at Broseley I myself had some interesting 
 correspondence with Mr. Manning at the time he was Archdeacon of 
 Chichester. It ceased when he crossed the border. In the last letter 
 I wrote to him about that date, I referred to the rumour, and entreated 
 him, before he finally made up his mind, that he would have some con- 
 versation with good R. "Waldo Sibtliorp, who had become a Roman Catholic 
 and returned to the Church of England. He promised me he would, but 
 remarked that he knew exactly what were R. W. Sibthorp's views ; still, 
 if the opportunity presented itself, he would see hira. Again I opened a 
 correspondence with him after the lapse of some thirty years, the occasion of 
 which was that a brother-in-law of mine wanted a copy of a particular number 
 of the Dublin Review, which he had in vain tried to get from the publisher. 
 It contained the story of the life of a somewhat remarkable man, who had 
 been a friend of ours. He was English born ; began life as a servant of the 
 Pope's, became a Dissenting minister in Lincolnshire, and afterwards joined 
 the Roman Communion again. J\Iy brother asked me to get this volume for 
 him if I coiild. I accordingly wrote to the Cardinal to ask if he could help 
 me to the volume. I said his old friend ]\Irs. Mortimer and I had often 
 talked him over. In reply he said ' he knew Jlrs. Mortimer well in former 
 years ; she was a veiy pious woman.' He sent me the volume. The last 
 letter I received from him is the following, dated October 1839 : — 
 
 ' My dear Lord — Very often I have thought of you, not knowing whether 
 you are still in this world. To us both a long life of many years has been 
 granted. I hope we shall not break the pitcher at the fountain. We have 
 had a multitude of mercies, and I hope they are the pledges of His love and 
 of His keeping to the end. Many thanks for this beautiful letter, and the 
 little pieties wliich show how her soul was united with God. ... If you 
 come to London let us meet again. — Yours faithfully in J. C, 
 
 Henky E. Card. Manning.'"
 
 TV IN THE SCHOOLS 65 
 
 gratitude, though without naming them, to Miss Bevan and 
 her brother. The voluminous correspondence between two 
 such people so eminent in their different ways in after-life 
 as Henry Manning and Mrs. Mortimer on the subject of 
 personal religion and on religious belief could not have 
 failed to be of singular interest. But the whole correspond- 
 ence has been destroyed.^ The fact, however, remains that 
 in the year when he was suffering under the misfortune of 
 his father's loss of fortune and the shipwreck of his own 
 ambitious prospects, he found an awakening of conscience 
 under the personal influence of two such pious and God-fearing 
 persons as Eobert Bevan and his sister. In his subsequent 
 letters to John Anderdon, from Oxford and from the Colonial 
 Office, Manning did not speak a word of his " conversion " 
 at Trent Park, nor of Miss Bevan, his " spiritual mother." 
 
 During his last year at Oxford, however. Manning, 
 under the guidance of John Anderdon, studied the seven- 
 teenth-century divines, to whose style both John Anderdon 
 and Manning were very partial ; and, under the influence 
 perhaps of Miss Bevan and her brother, read some of the 
 old Puritan writers. 
 
 His contemporary letters to his brother-in-law, John 
 Anderdon, which in their fulness and freedom give a graphic 
 picture of Manning's mind at the time, contain no reference 
 to the subject of religion, or to the Church of England, or 
 to ecclesiastical questions. Metaphysics, philosophy, politics 
 are discussed in rather a wild and random fashion. Litera- 
 ture and poetry are alluded to. Byron's poetry is extolled 
 beyond measure. Of Scott, Manning only said, " I wish he 
 had never written a line of poetry." The study of style 
 and English composition, second only to his " Orations at 
 the Union," seemed most to occupy his mind. His letters 
 are often grotesque and rhapsodical.^ The only serious 
 
 ^ On Manning's becoming a Catholic, he wrote to Miss Bevan, or Mrs. 
 Thomas Mortimer, as she then was, begging the return of all the letters he 
 had written to her. Of these letters to his " spiritual mother ", not one has 
 been preserved. Of hers, not one has escaped the flames to bear witness to 
 the source and origin of Manning's early Puritanism. 
 
 2 In reading over my letters from Harrow, Poulshot, and Oxford, that is, 
 from the time I was sixteen or seventeen to twenty-two, to John Anderdon, 
 
 VOL. I F
 
 66 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 purpose they reveal is anxiety about olitaining his degree, 
 and regret at the backward state of his earlier education. 
 
 Miss Bevan's, then, is the only contemporary evidence 
 we are in possession of as to the state of Manning's religious 
 opinions at Oxford — for from Bishop Charles Wordsworth 
 we only learn that his mind was stiU unformed — yet we 
 have, in one sense, the weightiest of all evidence — Cardinal 
 Manning's own reminiscences — as to his life at Oxford. 
 Though of the deepest interest, it is not, however, a con- 
 temporary record, but a statement written fifty-seven years 
 after the time. In default, however, of the slightest 
 evidence as to his religious views or opinions, in his con- 
 temporary letters to John Anderdon, we can only fall back 
 on " Notes and Eeminiscences " of his Oxford life, written 
 by the Cardinal a few years before his death. 
 
 First, in reference to Balliol, Cardinal Manning points 
 out that 
 
 There were two sets in Balliol — one a rowing and one a 
 reading set. I knew some of both, but I lived with the latter. 
 Herman Merivale, Oakeley, Moberly now of SaHsbury, were 
 Fellows. Round, Ogilvie, and Mitchell were tutors — the first, 
 a good and honest pleasant man ; the second, good, but too formal 
 to be genial ; the third, one of the most bright, innocent, and 
 lovable of men. 
 
 I never knew how kindly he thought of me till six months 
 ago, when he died and his words about me and Archbishop Tait 
 were pubhshed in the Tivies} 
 
 In the next Note there is a short reference to the 
 Union : — 
 
 I am more convinced than I ever was of the debt I owe to him in teaching 
 me to write. He took endless pains, as his letters correcting mine will show. 
 At first the effect of it was to make me write in a stilted, self-conscious style, 
 which is intolerable. But really I did half know it. I thought it was better 
 English. I do not think I had then any literary vanity ; and have said 
 somewhere in this book I had it for a time after publishing the first volume 
 of sermons. But in the second I deliberately and consciously resolved to 
 break with it. — Cardinal Manning's Journal, 1878-82. 
 
 ^ Mr. Mitchell spoke in high terms of Manning and Tait, both pupils of 
 his at the University. Ho predicted that both of them would become arch, 
 bishops. It did not, however, enter into Mr. Mitchell's prophetic head that 
 Manning would become Cardinal Archbishop of Westminster.
 
 IV IN THE SCHOOLS 67 
 
 My time at Oxford was very happy. As it went on I grew 
 less inclined to waste my time. I had been attacked with 
 asthma, brought on by a cold caught at cricket at Harrow. It 
 became severe, and I got permission not to dine in hall. My 
 dinner was what was allowed for luncheon — cold meat and 
 bread — and on this I lived all through my time. Gradually 
 I read harder. I belonged to the Union, and, linguce instigante 
 petulantia, I made a speech in favour of free trade in wool ; 
 in moving an amendment to a motion of Sir John Hanmer — an 
 owner of broad acres and many flocks — on the importation of 
 foreign wool. This launched me into a new life, and I, for a 
 year or so, joined in this very harmless and very useful anticipa- 
 tion of real speech. 
 
 But I found that it took too much time from my reading, 
 and I gave it up. Finally, I stayed up the last long vacation 
 and went into the schools in the November following. 
 
 I left Oxford the day I was out of the schools, not knowing 
 the result for some time. I went into Wiltshire to a friend, so 
 dead beat that I fell asleep at dinner, went up to bed and slei^t 
 till nine next morning, when he came and opened my window in 
 the month of December, It was during that last long vacation 
 that I became first at all intimate with Newman.^ He was at 
 Oriel, and had St, Mary's, where I used to go for Evensong and 
 his sermon. 
 
 The third Note refers to the religious change which 
 came over him at Oxford, 
 
 During my time at Oxford a religious change had come over 
 me. First the daily chapel became very soothing, especially the 
 Psalms and lessons. Next, for the first time, I really studied 
 the Old and New Testament, We had to analyse and con- 
 dense the historical books in writing ; next, to answer cate- 
 chetical questions in the chapel in writing ; further, to read the 
 Greek Testament in lecture. Meanwhile, I had begun to read 
 Barrow's Sermons with great care ; then Butler's Analogy, and 
 his Sermons with still greater care. It began to take a powerful 
 hold of me ; and yet the thought of being a clergyman had so 
 utterly passed from me, and the desire of political life so fully 
 possessed me, that I wrote to my father and told him that it was 
 impossible. I have his answer, which for tenderness and wisdom 
 is beautiful. He felt it much, but would not gainsay it by a word. 
 
 ^ Manning, in one of his Journals, has put on record that at this time he 
 was once asked by Newman to dine at his rooms in Oriel, so familiar to his 
 intimate friends.
 
 68 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 In a fuller Note of a later date Cardinal Manning 
 wrote as follows : — 
 
 I used to like going to chapel. The Psalms and the lessons 
 were always a delight to me. The verse, " AVhy art thou cast 
 down, my soul, etc." always seemed a voice to me. Every 
 day in the daily Mass it comes back to me. I stayed up at 
 Oxford diiring, I think, two vacations, either summer or one 
 Christmas.^ By that time, I had become really in earnest in 
 religion. I had read and re-read Butler's Sermons and the 
 Analogy. They formed my mind and conscience. Also, as I 
 have said, Barrow. I had read also Scott's Force of Truth, and 
 other devotional books, as Archbishop Leighton's Sermons. "We 
 were required to analyse in writing the Old Testament history ; 
 and I read the Greek Testament carefully. By that time I 
 may say, I began a real turning to God. I read also Irving's 
 books on prophecy, and went to hear him preach ; and a cracked- 
 voiced Welshman in Longacre of the name of Howell, a 
 wonderful and original thinker, who gi'eatly arrested me. John 
 Anderdon, being on the brink of bankruptcy, was in great sorrow, 
 and read in the same direction ; and oux reading and talking 
 powerfully determined me in turning to God. I also was 
 intimate with a Puritan family descended from Quakers. ^ The 
 mother, and a daughter between thirty and forty were remarkable 
 women. They lent me, or gave me the names of Puritan books 
 which I read, as Owen, Chandler, Howe, Flavel, and the like. 
 These showed me a side of religion which the Anglican writers, 
 except J. Taylor and Bishop Hall, seemed unconscious of. I 
 have ahvays believed that Anglicanism and Puritanism are the 
 ruins of the outer and the inner life of the Catholic Church, 
 from which they separated at the Reformation and then split 
 asunder. This accounts for the dryness of Anglicanism, and 
 the disembodied vagueness of evangelical pietism. 
 
 I was in this state when I took my degree. My letters to 
 John Anderdon from 1829 to 1831 will say all I know about 
 that period. I believe I may say that I had never in my life 
 turned away from God, though I had offended much and often, 
 and had wavered and varied from time to time, in periods or 
 
 ^ Henry Manning stayed up at Oxford during liis last vacation, 1830 ; but 
 the previous vacation was spent with the Bevans at Trent Park. It was to 
 Miss Bevan, whom he called " his spiritual mother," that Manning ascribed 
 his "conversion," which took place during that visit. 
 
 ^ The name of the Puritan family is not given. Was it the Bevans ? But 
 Miss Bevan, afterwards Mrs. Mortimer, in 1829 was between 20 and 30 years 
 of age.
 
 rv IN THE SCHOOLS 69 
 
 times of greater or less thoughtfulness about God. Still at this 
 time I decidedly turned to him and read many books, and 
 studied and analysed the Greek Testament, especially the 
 Epistle to the Romans in its bearing upon election and free-will 
 and the Apocalypse. But none of this drew me from the desire 
 of public life. I had a drawing to Christian piety ; but a 
 revulsion from the Anglican Church. I thought it secular, 
 pedantic, and unspiritual. I remember the disgust with which 
 I saw a dignitary in Cockspur Street in his shovel and gaiters. 
 
 These interesting revelations of, or glimpses into, his 
 inner life ; this record of the deeper studies which engaged 
 his mind, however much they may teach us to appreciate 
 the higher motives which inspired his action, do not alter 
 the fact that Manning's reputation at Oxford rests in the 
 main on his achievements as a ready and agreeable speaker 
 at the Union. At this famous Debating Society, open to 
 men of every college, and the centre, if not of literary or 
 theological, of public and political activity, Manning appears 
 to have been most at home, and to have formed acquaint- 
 ance or friendship with men, many of whose names were, 
 like his own, destined to become famous in church or state 
 or letters.
 
 CHAPTEE V 
 
 THE COLONIAL OFFICE "LOVE IN IDLENESS" 
 
 1831 
 
 On taking his degree in the Michaelmas term, 1830, 
 Manning left Oxford and returned to his father's home. 
 There was an end to the day-dreams of his boyish ambition. 
 Inspired by his successes as a fluent speaker, he had hoped 
 to enter Parliament and make a name for himself in the 
 House of Commons, as he had done at Oxford. He had 
 been destined from his boyhood for the Church ; he was 
 called by his brothers even in his school days " the 
 Parson." In this view he had been sent by his father to 
 Oxford; but now the Church seemed to him a dull and 
 tame profession. To confine his speech to the pulpit, per- 
 haps of a country village, seemed to the aspiring under- 
 graduate a waste of his gifts and opportunities. At last, 
 on manifesting his aversion to the Church as a profession, 
 his father, though deeply disappointed and pained, kindly 
 acquiesced in his son's desire to be released from the 
 bondage of a clerical career. 
 
 Henry Manning on leaving Oxford had no longer a 
 home ; no longer a profession. The comparative luxury in 
 which he had been born and lived was his no more. By 
 his father's bankruptcy he lost all chance of entering upon 
 a political career. But how deeply he felt the breaking up 
 of his old home the following Note shows : — 
 
 When the ruin was coining near they all left Combe Bank, 
 and I spent my long vacation there all alone. The beauty and 
 sadness of that time I shall never forget. I read all day and
 
 CHAP. V THE COLONIAL OFFICE 71 
 
 slept little, and did not seem to need it, or to wish to sleep. 
 The wonderful beauty of the place, which to my memory and to 
 my eyes, even to this day, is the most perfect country home of 
 gardens and terraces, and wood and water, kept me in a sort of 
 dream. I wrote lots of poetry, all happily burnt. ^ 
 
 In 1831 Combe Bank was sold, and Mr. William 
 Manning, resigning his directorship at the Bank of Eng- 
 land, retired altogether from business and public life. But 
 he retained a name untarnished, as well as many firm and 
 influential friends. The closing scene in this drama, which 
 not only shows the sad and premature extinction of his 
 father's public life, but which altogether altered his own 
 career, is graphically and sympathetically described, fifty 
 years after the event, by the son : — 
 
 Just after I had taken my degree in the winter 1830-1831 
 the ruin came. I was with my father in 3 New Bank Build- 
 ings. John Anderdon, my brother-in-law, and I were in the 
 principal room together, and I heard him say to one of the 
 correspondents of the house who came for business that " the 
 house had suspended payments." After that all went into 
 bankruptcy, and I went with my father to Guildhall, before 
 a Commissioner in Bankruptcy, and saw him surrender his last 
 possession in the world, his gold watch, chain, and seals, which 
 he laid down on the table. It was returned to him as the 
 custom is. After that I took him away, leaning on my arm. 
 I remember some time before his saying to me with much feel- 
 ing, " I have belonged to men with whom bankruptcy was 
 synonymous with death." It was so to him. Though his honour 
 was unimpeached, and his friends generously kind, for they 
 bought in his life interest in my dear mother's marriage settle- 
 ment, and subscribed an income for him, yet he declined from 
 that time. Combe Bank was sold. He lived for a while at 
 1 2 Gower Street ; after that at a little cottage at Tillington near 
 Petworth; but in the year 1835 he died in Gower Street. He 
 was buried at Combe Bank, and I remember the reverence and 
 aflfection of the people at his burial was very true and visible.^ 
 
 The pressing question for Manning now was not that 
 of making a name or fortune, but of earning a livelihood. 
 For in his changed circumstances Mr. WiUiam Manning 
 
 ^ Some of his verses, however, have escaped the flames. Among them a 
 long poem entitled "A Canterbury Tale" has been carefully preserved. 
 ^ Autobiographical Notes, 1878-82.
 
 72 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 was no longer in a position to provide an independent 
 income for his youngest son. Under the circumstances, 
 the best that could be done for Henry Manning was to 
 obtain for him an appointment in the Civil Service. 
 Manning's friends applied to Lord Goderich (father of the 
 present Marquis of Ripon), Colonial Secretary. The only 
 appointment, however, which he could bestow was a super- 
 numerary clerkship in the Colonial Office.^ Manning had 
 to reckon with the res angustce domi ; and in the view of 
 supplementing the slender pay of his clerkship he wisely 
 set at once to work to make use of his Oxford connections. 
 During one of the periods when his services at the office 
 were dispensed with, he went up to Oxford to pursue an 
 active canvass of the resident Fellows of Merton for a vacant 
 Fellowship. But he was confronted with the primary ob- 
 jection that he was not in Orders ; for though, of course, 
 unmarried laymen are eligible, clergymen are preferred. 
 
 In a letter to John Anderdon, Manning reports the un- 
 successful results of his canvassing at Oxford thus : — 
 
 Do not be sanguine for Merton. The objection against my 
 laity has been repeatedly and strongly urged. It has reached 
 me with significant concomitants twice or thrice. This very 
 day the Warden of Merton, on whom I called, asked whether I 
 had decided on my profession. I said I had negatively decided 
 against the Chmrch. 
 
 In another passage, in answer to John Anderdon's asser- 
 tion that " you are wanting in the pursuit of disinterested 
 ambition. Manning says : 
 
 You are wrong in denying me this possession. You are right 
 in thinking some part of my nature an impediment to my rise. 
 It is the excess of pride. Not that which makes every offence 
 a rankling wound, but that which precludes my presenting myself 
 as a suitor. It revolts me to write, as I have this morning been 
 employed in writing — ut candidati personam suscipiam, me henevo- 
 lentiw vestrce committam. I know it is folly, but undisguisedly 
 confess I had rather forego a Fellowship than solicit a favour 
 thus purely gratuitous. . . . 
 
 ^ A supernumerary clerkship in the Colonial OflQce conferred no right of 
 regular employment. The supernumerary clerk only attended at the office 
 when his services, for a longer or shorter period, were required.
 
 V THE COLONIAL OFFICE 73 
 
 I wrote to you expressing an odd state of existence. It is 
 only from a wish to get back. I have no interest — not even 
 that of self-improvement — to attract me here. With you I have 
 much. I hope, though our professions diverge at right angles, 
 we may still live in some sort together. Real presence we may 
 be partially denied ; the intercourse of subtle fluids cannot be 
 wholly cut off. A community of thought, sentiment, feeling, 
 conviction, and interest, must ever defy, while we like, the 
 attempt to intercept it. For this reason I want to be at home 
 again. 
 
 Manning, in the concluding passage of this long letter, 
 defends himself against the charge of writing in a slovenly 
 style. In his letter John Anderdon had said, among other 
 criticisms, " You have no idea of your deficiency in writing 
 English " : — 
 
 I have been paying considerable attention to English compo- 
 sition, and think I am improving. — I am, your affectionate 
 ^rot^er, Henry E. Manning. 
 
 Oxford, bth April 1831. 
 
 Under a somewhat angry frame of mind, irritated by the 
 final appeal of his family assembled in conclave calling upon 
 him to go up to Oxford and qualify for Orders, Manning 
 wrote the following letter to John Anderdon : — 
 
 13th March 1831. 
 
 My dear John — Pray send the accompanying letter to 
 Lombard Street. Your lines were very epididic. I could see 
 the whole group, yourself and your note, and my father and his 
 watch and the frank, and all the subordinate concomitants. 
 
 I thank you for your advocacy, not omitting to estimate 
 "your convictions." Suppose I were to begin twaddling about 
 convictions — not another word. 
 
 Your argument of apprenticeship is based on false analogy; 
 and Lucian's dialogue in misapprehension. 
 
 An apprentice is articled to his trade, and from the hour he, 
 laying down his worldly capital, enters upon his calling, is an 
 incipient bootmaker. His education is in the bootmaker's shop, 
 and his acquirements are made by actual employment on the 
 subject matter of his future eminence. I leave you to supply 
 the close and inevitable parallel to political initiation ; with a 
 caution that in future you avoid such suicidal analogies.
 
 74 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 Again as to Liician's dialogue, the young man was desirous of 
 legislating before he had learned how ; I wish to learn how 
 before I legislate. The Athenian agora was no school for states- 
 men ; the British house of parliament, the only one. The 
 former was precisely like a district meeting to petition Parlia- 
 ment ; the latter is the only initiation to itself. Your Avords ten 
 days ago were, on my asking why, how long should a man be 
 learning the practices of the house ? Twenty years ! Marvel ; 
 this is but the practice contradistinguished from the matter in 
 debate. However it was thi-ough the same backward spirit — 
 I accuse no one, except myself — it was through the same back- 
 ward spirit that I had to commence my education at eighteen 
 instead of eight years. I am now seriously called upon, con- 
 sistently enough, I admit, to delay my initiation into the very 
 elements of public life, until I be, not three and twenty, but 
 thirty. I say, and religiously believe, that the next seven years, 
 without a positive, definite, specific, and immediate duty, are 
 lost, entailing not only a loss of seven years, but an incalculable 
 diminution of my ultimate chance of success. In whatever race 
 I run, I will never voluntarily carry weight ; in whatever contest 
 I engage, I aWU never bind one arm behind my back : I know, 
 from experience, what is an uphill game ; I have played one, 
 gained one, and suffered by one. Did I think my present views 
 entailed upon me the same degree of stress of mind and body, 
 the same ill health, the same attendant circumstances, which 
 you can neither know nor appreciate, while I both feel and 
 suffer from them, I would never gravely propound to myself the 
 attempt. I have, by an accelerated pace, recovered my lost 
 ground ; and am now advised to relax my arms, and retrograde 
 with the current, that I may again pull up — a process having in 
 all human })robability no conclusion other than disappointment ; 
 but possibly a termination you little anticipate. My resolves 
 were spoken long since. You know my purposes. If my 
 family, I say not my father, from a knowledge of his character, 
 will lend me their aid to my endeavours ; in asking which, I 
 only ask what a man unintroduced in life may fairly expect ; I 
 shall cheerfully abide by the result. I ask no sacrifice from 
 any individual member of the stock. I only wish a cordial 
 sanction ; and a sincerely exerted influence among those they 
 are able to incline in my behalf. But if in the place of sanction, 
 I meet disapprobation, if when I ask for encouragement, I am 
 hindered by opposition, I may be excused for abstaining to 
 solicit their opinion with their assistance ; and for considering 
 .such conduct a liberation from consulting further with them on 
 matters individually my own.
 
 V THE COLONIAL OFFICE 75 
 
 Do not think any expression intended to convey asperity. I 
 am incapable of it. I speak strongly because I feel strongly. 
 
 If I be competent to undertake public life — for the sake of 
 reason give me such encouragement as may hearten me, while it 
 puts others to no expense ; at the least, do not deny assistance, 
 and augment difficulties besides. 
 
 If I be incompetent, let me be told so, I will believe it. 
 But not by such an argument as this, " You are inexperienced, 
 while we are consistently endeavouring to prevent your acquisi- 
 tion of that experience," and above all by no stolidity about 
 "too young." None are "too young" to begin but fools. — 
 Yours, dear Jack, M. 
 
 This eager letter, written in a spirit of vexation, was but 
 natural in a young man of twenty-four, disappointed at 
 finding that his father, who, especially since the loss of his 
 fortune, knew the value of money — and his brother Frederick, 
 and even John Anderdon, his special patron and advocate, — 
 were alike convinced that for a man without money or 
 prospects to aspire to a parliamentary life was an idle day- 
 dream. It was worse, for they insisted that it was waste of 
 time, of energies, and of the chance of earning a livelihood 
 in another calling or profession. All this, indeed, is very 
 true — the simple dictates of common-sense ; but who is 
 there that does not sympathise with Henry Manning in 
 that day of bitter disappointment ? His success as a 
 speaker at the Oxford Union first inspired him with a desire 
 for Parliament. Friends like Gladstone, Sidney Herbert, and 
 Lord Lincoln were destined, as he knew, on leaving Oxford 
 for public life. Before his father's bankruptcy, he might, 
 perhaps, without blame have indulged in such ambitious 
 hopes. To forgo the life which he had pictured to himself 
 was a hard trial to a man of his ambitious temperament ; it 
 was not in Manning's nature, however, lightly to give 
 Tip plans he had once formed. Perhaps his father and 
 eldest brother were too rigid in their ideas, that since he 
 had enjoyed a University education for the express purpose 
 of becoming a clergyman, he ought now, since under 
 changed circumstances a public career was out of question, 
 to take Orders. 
 
 It was a difficult task, even for John Anderdon, to con
 
 76 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 vince Manuing against his will. All that he got for his 
 pains was to be flouted at as " Old Square-toes," or " Puzzle- 
 headed Christian." 
 
 Unfortunately for him, as a supernumerary clerk Manning 
 had only intermittent employment in the Colonial Office. 
 Therefore, when his services were dispensed with at the 
 office, unless he had pleasanter engagements in town or at 
 Harrow, Manning, in the idlest year of his life, used to spend 
 his days at Combe Bank, which, before it was sold, was in 
 the charge of a caretaker. He amused himself during his 
 absence from the Colonial Office by very miscellaneous reading, 
 as is described in the following letter to John Anderdon : — 
 
 Combe Bank, April iii. mdcccxxxl 
 
 My dear John — I have not heard of thee lately. Art busy, 
 man? or dolorous, or idle, or uxorious, or contemplative, or 
 among autographs protuberant, or with hot cross buns dyspeptic, 
 or, what the devil art thou ? What though I know not what 
 thou art anent ; full well I know my own perilous and passing 
 strange condition. 
 
 I have dabbled to an infinitesimal shallow degree in multi- 
 tudinous books on manifold topics ; and all this in a state of 
 perverse and pertinacious indolence. I am now enveloped in 
 metaphysics pure, writing for the essay, of which product I 
 expect neither your approbation nor perusal. 
 
 I am very cynical and resolute, without which virtues never 
 could I outlive my present routine of nonentitous existence. 
 
 Have a bed ready for me on Saturday night in New Bank 
 Buildings, and a letter by the return of the next post. Faith, I 
 have an half mind to inflict certain scourges on thy cuticle, to 
 the end of expelling somnolency. 
 
 Six months of this rustic vegetation, and my cerebellum 
 would put forth mustard and cress. If I abide here much 
 longer, je deviendrai bientot fou. — Yours, M. 
 
 Manning, after his father's home was broken up, lived 
 at first with his brother-in-law, Mr. John Anderdon, in 
 Upper Harley Street then with his brother Frederick, who 
 at that time lived in Wyndham Place, Bryanston Square ; 
 finally he took lodgings at 32 Mount Street.' 
 
 1 In a letter to John Anderdon he describes his rooms as small but neat 
 and clean. He had taken them for three weeks at £2 per week.
 
 V THE COLONIAL OFFICE 77 
 
 By all accounts he was most orderly and punctual in his 
 attendance at the Colonial Office. His friends were busy 
 in seeking to promote his interests at headquarters. The 
 most intimate of them all, S. F. Wood, who through his 
 eldest brother, afterwards Chancellor of the Exchequer, had 
 influence at the Treasury, wrote to Manning asking how his 
 interests at the Office might be best served, and what were 
 the names of his co-secretaries. 
 
 Other friends, like Lady Stanhope, were less judicious 
 or more patronising. Cardinal Manning's sister, Mrs. 
 Austen, on one occasion said : — " No doubt I must have 
 been indignant at Lady Stanhope's patronising remark — ' I 
 am glad to hear that your brother writes a good hand ' — 
 when I made the saucy retort : ' Yes, and knows a little 
 arithmetic' " 
 
 Here on the very threshold of action or public life, we 
 come across one of those strange myths which so frequently 
 grow up in the course of time about the early beginnings 
 of the careers of great men. Since Manning became 
 famous in the world, it appears to have been thought 
 necessary by officious or flattering scribes to invent a 
 theory to account for so commonplace a beginning in the 
 career of their hero. 
 
 The theory invented for the occasion was that Mr. 
 Manning entered the Colonial Office in 1831 in preparation 
 for a political career, which had always had a fascination 
 for him, and for which he fitted himself by a close study 
 of constitutional law and of political history. 
 
 What a fancy picture ! The real story of that brief, 
 but in one especial sense eventful, period wears quite a 
 different complexion. The year 1831, I verily believe, 
 was the only idle year in Manning's busy life. 
 
 Happening on one occasion to mention this " theory" to 
 Mr. Gladstone, he at once scouted the idea as absurd, 
 saying : — 
 
 Had Manning entertained any intention of entering upon a 
 political career, he would not have sought such an appointment 
 in the Colonial Office, but have acted as I did ; would have 
 come up to London to take active part in political pursuits ;
 
 78 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 make political friends ; and seek an opportunity of finding his 
 way into Parliament.^ 
 
 Mr. Gladstone expressed his belief that this appoint- 
 ment was obtained for Manning owing to his father's 
 bankruptcy ; " but," he said by way of caution, " don't 
 mention this in the ' Life,' unless you find the statement 
 confirmed by other authority." He then added, " A sub- 
 ordinate post in the Colonial Ofl&ce must have been intol- 
 erable to a man of Manning's great mental powers." 
 
 Fortunately for himself, and for the Church of England, 
 to which, even though eventually abandoned on dictates 
 of conscience, he was an ornament and an honour, and 
 fortunately most of all for Catholics in England, he was 
 not destined to pass his days in the drudgery of the 
 Colonial Office. 
 
 It is idle to speculate what the result would have been 
 to Manning himself if the river of his life had been diverted 
 from its natural course. But this at least may be said, 
 that had he followed a career dictated rather by adverse 
 circumstances than by natural selection, there can be no 
 doubt that, with his great talents, energy of character, and 
 worldly wisdom, he would have risen to a high post in 
 the Civil Service. But Oxford would have known him no 
 more, and the Anghcan Church would have lost one of its 
 most eloquent and persuasive preachers. Beyond the reach 
 of the Tractarian movement, and relieved from the painful 
 necessity, induced by the great Oxford conflict, of examin- 
 ing afresh the title-deeds of the Church of England, 
 Manning would in all human probability have Hved and 
 died a pious Protestant of the Evangelical type. The 
 Catholic Church in England, too, would have lost in her 
 hour of need one of her truest and boldest defenders ; the 
 Vatican Council, the foremost champion of Papal Infalli- 
 Ijility ; and the sacred College of Cardinals, one of the most 
 eminent of its members. 
 
 But man proposes and God disposes. Divine Provi- 
 
 ^ Mr. Gladstone, in allusion to his own pursuits on coming up to London, 
 said, "On leaving Oxford I finished my education, at least as regards foreign 
 languages and literature. "
 
 V THE COLONIAL OFFICE 79 
 
 dence had other ends in view for its chosen servant. God 
 often chooses strange instruments to work out his in- 
 scrutable designs. Love with its vicissitudes — as the hves 
 of saints, or of men who were all but saints, amply show 
 — is a not uncommon instrument in the hands of Divine 
 Providence. 
 
 Manning was only too glad to escape from the restraint 
 and drudgery of office hours, and from the tedious work of 
 copying letters, and instead of poring over musty books on 
 poKtical economy, revisited Harrow ; renewed old acquaint- 
 ances ; made new friends, and passed many a delightful 
 summer evening in the neighbourhood of the place he loved 
 so well. Even in those early days, Harrow was proud 
 of her gifted son, fresh from his triumphs at Oxford. 
 Mr. Oxenham, second master at Harrow, was always 
 glad to welcome Manning; and at Harrow he met again, 
 on more than one occasion, his two old school-fellows ^ the 
 Deffells. 
 
 In his An7ials of My Early Life, the Bishop of St. 
 Andrews, the late Charles Wordsworth, Manning's oldest 
 friend and contemporary, made a casual allusion to mis- 
 fortunes different in kind which had befallen Manning in 
 1831, that sufficiently indicated, to those at least who 
 knew the story, that the Bishop was familiar with his 
 friend's first disappointment in love. 
 
 In a letter dated Easter day 1892, Bishop Wordsworth, 
 in giving his early reminiscences of his old friend Henry 
 Manning, explains the allusion he had made in his Annals 
 to the twofold misfortunes which befell Manning in 1830-31. 
 
 The Bishop's letter is as follows : — 
 
 ^ A year or two ago, Cardinal Manning's sister, Mrs. Austen, said, " I 
 knew the Deffells, two charming boys, school-fellows of my brother Henry at 
 Harrow. He used often to bring them to spend their holidays with us." 
 The "two charming boys" had two charming sisters who were frequent 
 guests at Mr. Oxenham's house at Harrow. The late Rev. H. N. Oxenham, 
 son of the second master at Harrow, as a boy often saw at his father's house 
 Henry Manning in the year 1831 ; and, like Charles Wordsworth, Manning's 
 school-fellow and oldest friend, knew all about the unhappy love affair 
 between Jliss Deffell and Henry Manning. Twenty-six years later, in 1857, 
 H. N. Oxenham, curate of St. "Thomas, Oxford, was received into the Church 
 by Mgr. Manning.
 
 80 CARDINAL MANNING ohap. 
 
 KiLRTMONT, St. Andrews, Easter Day, 1892. 
 
 My DEAR Mr. Purcell — When I have completed the 
 second volume of my Annals — which cannot be for some 
 months, as I have been again thrown back by illness (a severe 
 neuralgic disorder, from which I have been suffering during the 
 ■whole winter) — I will do the best I can to comply with your 
 request about my old friend Henry Manning's letters. At 
 present I require them for my own use. I have not many — not 
 more than six or eight ; they contain little or nothing of public 
 interest. Almost all the earlier letters I received from him, i.e. 
 up to 1846, are given in my volume already published. 
 
 He was about two years my junior, and consequently at 
 Harrow two or three removes below me. But, so far as I 
 remember, your impression is quite correct that he was not 
 distinguished as a student either there or at Oxford, until 
 external circumstances drove him to his books, which was, I 
 think, very soon after he went to Oxford. Like Gladstone, I 
 only heard him speak once at the Union (viz. in the Shelley- 
 Byron debate) and I doubt whether he was a frequent speaker. 
 
 As to his religious opinions, they were quite unformed till 
 he was settled at Lavington, where I paid him two visits, both 
 after his wife's death. 
 
 My " allusion," about which you inquire, was to the way in 
 which he was jilted by Miss DefFell. 
 
 No Deffell, so far as I know, was a Master at Harrow. 
 Oxenham was. — I am, yours faithfully, q Wordsworth 
 
 Bishop of St. Andrews. 
 
 Bishop Wordsworth, I think, was mistaken in saying 
 that Miss Deffell " jilted Manning." It was the other way 
 about ; at least according to the testimony of Mr. Oxenham, 
 who was an intimate friend of the Deffells as well as of 
 Manning. Whilst he was in the Colonial Office, Manning, 
 who naturally saw a great deal of the Deffells who were 
 friends of Mr. John Anderdon,^ fell in love, whether with 
 or without the knowledge of his brother-in-law, at 
 whose house he was staying, with the younger Miss 
 Deffell. The attentions and attractions of a young man 
 of such prepossessing manners and appearance were well 
 received and responded to by the young lady. But " the 
 
 1 Miss Anderdon, Cardinal Manning's niece, said to me a year or two 
 ago, — "When we were living in Upper Harley Street we were friends of the 
 Deffells who lived in Grosvenor Street."
 
 V THE COLONIAL OFFICE 81 
 
 course of true love never did run smooth." An angry- 
 father intervened and parted the happy pair in the heyday 
 of their love-making. Besides entertaining eccentric views on 
 the subject of marriage, Mr. Deffell was opposed to the match 
 on the practical grounds that Mr. Manning's position in the 
 Colonial Office and prospects in life were not such as to 
 warrant proposals of marriage. The young lady's father — 
 his dull eye not seeing visions of future greatness in 
 Manning's brow — forbade a formal engagement, though 
 permitting to the disconsolate lovers the consolation of 
 correspondence. 
 
 Thus Henry Manning's first love affair came in the early 
 summer to an untimely end ; for love, at least a man's 
 love, does not long thrive on mere letters. The woman 
 was faithful unto the end to her first love ; for Miss 
 Deffell, though her elder sister married, lived and died for 
 Manning's sake in single blessedness. Unlike Father 
 Faber, who declared that to be crossed in love was a 
 blessing in disguise to the heart of man, and who as a 
 poet glorified the human instrument which led to his own 
 conversion, Manning never either in verse or prose bewailed 
 the sorrows of the old, old story, unless, indeed, in an 
 indirect fashion in letters to his brother-in-law. 
 
 The two following letters to John Anderdon, bespeak at 
 any rate the emotions of Manning's mind under disturbing 
 influences : now in the seventh heaven of delights, singing 
 out his heart in joy ; now under the sting of disappoint- 
 ment, incoherently railing out of the depths of his heart's 
 despair against everything under the sun, against everybody, 
 himself and his unfortunate brother-in-law included : — 
 
 Combe Bank, 22nd May 1831. 
 
 My dear John — . . . You need not designate my last as 
 " rigmarole " for it was in matter deliberate, and in execution not 
 divested of method, however unable you were to descry it. 
 
 I have enjoyed the last few days most royally. I have lived 
 in the library, or strolling by myself . . . enjoyed a most 
 illimitable wandering through regions of general literature — all 
 ages, subjects, dialects. I have been hunting down every game 
 that came afoot, following through all the mazes of association. 
 
 VOL. I G
 
 82 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 To crown all, I have gone a-fishing by evening light ; catching 
 not many fishes, but a store of pleasing thoughts. 
 
 At night the air has vibrated with nightingales. The bushes 
 under the terrace are peopled densely by them " Making their 
 summer lives one endless song." And then anon, a bird from 
 out the brakes bursts into voice a moment, then is still ! You 
 see to what development all this hastens. I have succumbed to 
 an ancient weakness and poured me forth in poesie. Thus then 
 with studying, strolling, rhyming, reflecting, and angling, I have 
 lived happily, nobly, and quietly as a poet, philosopher, moralist, 
 fisher, and rex denique regium. — Yours, M. 
 
 The following letter tells its own tale : — 
 
 Mount Street, 13(/t June 1831. 
 
 My DEAR Jack — You will laugh at receiving a hrutumfulmenf 
 The fact is somewhat has disquieted me to bring me up ! I 
 know not what. This morning I slaughtered the remains of the 
 subordinate magistrates ; smote the aliens, denizens, and natural- 
 born subjects hip and thigh, but pursuing my victorious career 
 through the clergy, got a fall, horse and man, at the spear point 
 of the obstinate and arrogant prelate, ArchbishojD Anselm ; I 
 was utterly turned over. My head went round, my courage and 
 attention left me, and I, by turns, took in hand every book within 
 my reach and could not follow three consecutive lines. I 
 rummaged my porte-feuille ; tore some letters ; read some verses, 
 but nothing would do. So I finally subsided into this half 
 sheet which I purpose to fill, liberating you on the payment of 
 twopence from the task of reading the same. 
 
 I have not a single particle of application. How long I may 
 remain so, I dare not contemplate, but of this I am assured, that 
 my present services are not worth the minutest fraction of the 
 national coin. I am splenetic, sick, savage, sour, rabid, indolent, 
 useless, and ill at ease. I want to be anywhere but where I 
 am, do anything but what I do, see anybody but whom I see, 
 hear anything but what I hear, recollect anything but what I 
 recollect, hope anything but what I hope, feel anything but 
 what I feel, know anything but what I know, care for anybody 
 but whom I care for (there you go) ; in fine, be anything, body, 
 monster, beast, or creature, but what I am. If for this you 
 think me discontented, you Avill at least acquit me of self-love. 
 By the way — I don't know what I was going to write. I'll 
 fall to abusing you and your philosophick coxcombry : ' Study 
 to be quiet,' ' contemplate,' and catch gudgeons. Talk tran- 
 scendentalism, and torture fish. Read Barrow's sermons and
 
 V THE COLONIAL OFFICE 83 
 
 practise pilfering. Screw sanctimonious grimaces and your 
 customers' pockets. " Keep j^our sales-book with all diligence," 
 and your heart with the remainder. You talk of doing your 
 own business who art up to your neck in pragmaticalness and 
 naughty meddling six days out of the week, and art restive on 
 the seventh. '"Tis eight o'clock, saith the fool, and in an hour 
 more it will be nine." Certes, thou art supereminently sagacious. 
 Perdition catch my soul, but thou'lt turn a silver penny to pay 
 the brushing of thy straight hairs for a Michaelmasse sermon. 
 Oh I could divide myself and go to buffets and it would be a 
 tough time for my left-handed moiety, perdy. Brother Jack, 
 thou art as paradoxical as thou art pugnacious. Nay, by the 
 rood thou art ; so think not to put me by as a ribald scoffer. 
 I can do nothing under heaven but rail, rail, rail. Now for a 
 requiem. My watch says it is half-past three, but I would not 
 believe it on its oath. All things are false, whether made of 
 body and soul, or cog-wheels and claptraps. Deceitful, proud, 
 and desperately wicked. 
 
 Why look ye now, there's philosophy, vitce Magistra, dodrin- 
 arum excultrix, artium indagatrix, with as many superincumbent 
 polysyllables of collaudation as His Imperial Mightiness of Ava, 
 Siam, and Regia. When all is snug and warm and comfortable, 
 She's the trustiest friend, companion, counsellor, comforter, and 
 protector ; but when matters take an angry aspect — whiff, she's 
 oflF "with her tail in the air, like a robustious cow in sultry 
 weather. 
 
 Timon will to the woods. 
 
 I have more to say that I have thought upon. — Yours, M. 
 
 lu another letter a day or two afterwards, Manning tells 
 his brother-in-law that he had yielded " to an ancient weak- 
 ness and had composed reams of poesie." In another letter 
 he avowed his supreme contempt for Walter Scott's poetry. 
 Byronic rapture or despair was, perhaps naturally, in those 
 days of disappointment, his admiration and delight. 
 
 In so venerable and austere an ecclesiastic of a celibate 
 Church as Cardinal Manning, it was perhaps not unnatural 
 to shrink with extreme sensitiveness from the avowal of 
 human passions, which, in compiling or recording the 
 reminiscences of his early life, might have seemed to him, 
 and, perhaps, to many besides, out of keeping with his 
 spiritual character, lofty aims, and ascetic appearance. 
 
 Unlike Faber again, Manning did not recognise, at least
 
 84 CARDINAL MANNING chap, v 
 
 as yet, love's sorrows as a blessing in disguise. His spiritual 
 eye was still unopened ; he did not as yet see the pointing 
 of God's finger; hear the call of the Divine voice; for in an 
 unspiritual or human fashion he sought and, found a year 
 or two later, consolation for love's first disappointment in 
 marriage with another lady.
 
 CHAPTEE VI 
 
 HOLY ORDERS AND MATRIMONY 
 1832-1833 
 
 The misfortunes, twofold in kind, which befell Manning in the 
 untoward years 1830 and 1831, not only exerted a chastening 
 effect upon his character, but were not without important 
 results in regard to his career in life. For these disappoint- 
 ments, aided as we have been told by a growing sense of 
 Ms duty towards religion, induced him to resign his irksome 
 post in the Colonial Office ; and, acting on the advice of his 
 friends Samuel and Henry Wilberforce, to return to Oxford 
 in the view of qualifying for Orders. In those days the fact 
 of taking Orders did not of necessity imply what is understood 
 in the Catholic Church as a vocation to ecclesiastic life. The 
 Church, like the Bar, or the army or navy, was one of the 
 recognised professions to which on leaving the University 
 a young man, even though of no great promise, has a right 
 to look as a convenient opening into active life. 
 
 Neither was the necessity imposed of long preparation 
 or trial as to fitness for sacerdotal life or of special theo- 
 logical study or training. A man, who had taken his degree 
 and was prepared to subscribe to the Thirty-nine Articles was 
 entitled, on finding a curacy, to present himself for Orders. 
 Manning was in every way fitted by character and by godly 
 repute as well as by mental gifts for the position to which he 
 aspired. He was better than his environments, had far higher 
 views than most of his contemporaries in that day of spiritual 
 dulness ; for, as the following letter to his brother Frederick 
 shows, he did not regard the Church as a mere profession : —
 
 86 CARDIXAL MANNING CHAP. 
 
 Downing Street, 1st February 1832. 
 
 My dear Frederick — When we parted I promised you that 
 my next letter should contain as few unnecessary words as 
 possible. 
 
 While I made that promise the subject I now write on was 
 not absent from my mind. I trust you Anil not hear Avith dis- 
 approbation that I have at length resolved to follow the advice 
 you have uniformly and Avithout variation offered to me, I mean, 
 to take Orders. 
 
 I was -withheld by motives I will not now discuss. They 
 were altogether of a conscientious nature ; and I trust they 
 would upon fair consideration be pronounced correct. I shall be 
 ready at any moment to state them should you desire it, but as 
 they now cease to oppose any obstacle to my acting as you have 
 advised, I ■will pass them over in silence. 
 
 I do not regret the delay I have thus occasioned, indeed I 
 cannot avoid remarking by the Avay that I am by six months 
 only qualified to take Orders, for my mind has settled into a 
 preference for the Church ; Avithout Avhich feeling I never could 
 have discharged its duties otherAvise than as an irksome and 
 unpleasant labour. 
 
 I have communicated this change in my views to my father, 
 and mother ; and I am anxious to hear from you with Avhat 
 feelings you receive my letter. 
 
 Since the period of my leaving Oxford we have been brought 
 more together than at any period I can remember. The kind- 
 ness I have at all times received from you, both in word and 
 act ; and the warm interest you haA'e shoAvn in conversing with 
 me on my prospects in life, render rae necessarily desirous to 
 hear you approve and sanction the decision I have made. 
 
 It AYOuld indeed be to me a source of great pain and disquiet 
 were you to see cause to censure and condemn the course I pro- 
 pose to adopt. 
 
 Pray communicate this letter Avith my love to Edmunda ; as 
 I owe to her that I should desire her approbation also. 
 
 I Avill add one Avord more : you may sec cause to regret that 
 I accepted my present situation, but believe me it is this only 
 that has removed from my mind the main objection I have so 
 frequently stated to you. 
 
 I trust this Avill cancel any reason you may have to regret 
 that event. Believe me, dear Frederick, ever your affectionate 
 brother, Henry E. Manning. 
 
 In answer to his brother Frederick's remonstrance at 
 throwing up on the sudden, an appointment which had been
 
 VI HOLY ORDERS AND MATRIMONY 87 
 
 obtained for him not without difficulty, Manning gives the 
 following explanation : — 
 
 I may seem to have been precipitate in acting upon my 
 altered view, but I did so under the belief that I well knew 
 yoxir mind, and that it was due to Lord Goderich to give 
 immediate notice of my intention, that he might not be incon- 
 venienced by my leaving the Office, and that he might proceed 
 at once to serve some other of his friends, by appointing him in 
 my room. 
 
 I was very kindly assured that there existed no need for me 
 to continue any longer in the Office ; and I left it on such a 
 footing with all I had there known, that I can never recur to 
 the last few weeks without sincere gratification. 
 
 All that now remains is to make inquiries for a curacy, with- 
 out which I am not qualified to be ordained, I should desire to 
 commence about Michaelmas next, so gaining seven or eight 
 months to prepare myself, before I enter upon an active discharge 
 of the duties of my profession. 
 
 To his grave eldest brother, Manning naturally refrained 
 from alluding to the disappointment of heart, which together 
 with higher or more spiritual motives sent him back a wiser, 
 if sadder man to Oxford, and to the Church which in his 
 undergraduate days he had abandoned as a profession. 
 
 If to his brother Frederick, Manning wrote under reserve, 
 or only told half his mind, or that part of his mind in 
 regard to qualifying for Orders, which would be most agree- 
 able, in his letters to John Anderdon, on the other hand, 
 he poured out without reserve heart and soul. From these 
 letters, it is clear that Manning was driven against his will 
 to take up the Church as a profession. His inclinations 
 were all the other way — for life in the world, in Parliament. 
 He complained of opposition on the part of his family, of 
 their backward spirit in refusing to give him a chance of 
 entering into public life. What he wanted, and asked for 
 in vain, was help to enable him to prepare or pave his way 
 into Parliament : the influence of his friends to obtain for 
 him a start in life, or, at any rate, their cordial sanction of 
 his hopes and plans, instead of opposition and obstruction. 
 Had Manning succeeded in his canvass, whilst at the 
 Colonial Office, for a Fellowship at Mertou he might perhaps
 
 88 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 have resisted the importunity of his friends. At any rate, 
 the emoluments of the office would have secured for him a 
 more independent position, and relieved him from the 
 necessity of entering the Church as a profession. 
 
 Even after he had gone up to Oxford and was qualifying 
 for Orders, Manning in the following letter to John Anderdon 
 expresses a fear that he has taken too precipitate a step : — 
 
 Oxford, 9th March 1832. 
 
 My DEAR John — . . . I think the whole step has been too 
 precipitate. I have rather allowed the instance of my friends, 
 and the allurements of an agreeable curacy in many respects, to 
 get the better of my sober judgment. 
 
 The " agreeable curacy," which Henry Wilberforce, who 
 was engaged to one of the rector's daughters, had painted in 
 such glowing colours as an inducement to his friend to 
 come up to Oxford was that of Lavington, Another obstacle 
 which stood in Manning's way was the difficulty of coming 
 forward a second time as a candidate for a Merton Fellow- 
 ship. Last year, on finding, after a canvass of the resident 
 Fellows, that he had no chance of success as a layman, he 
 had announced his intention of withdrawing his candidature. 
 But now, having adopted the Church as a profession, he con- 
 sulted his friends whether he should put himself forward again 
 as a candidate. In the following passage of a letter to John 
 Anderdon he gives the gratifying results of his inquiries : — 
 
 I have been induced by the strong expression of opinion 
 from many of my friends, in addition to more than one intima- 
 tion from Fellows, or friends of Fellows of Merton to submit 
 my case to my friend Ogilvie. I frankly gave him to under- 
 stand my scruple in respect of becoming a candidate. Upon a 
 full consideration he unhesitatingly urged me to stand again. I 
 afterwards spoke to other of my friends, and in consequence of 
 their concurrent advice I have determined to revoke my former 
 intention. 
 
 Another difficulty of a more serious or higher nature 
 was the unwillingness he felt to enter upon a profession of 
 such responsibility as the Church without more mature 
 preparation. This reluctance speaks well for the conscien- 
 tiousness of Manning's character.
 
 VI HOLY ORDERS AND MATRIMONY 89 
 
 On this point he wrote as follows to John Anderdon : — 
 
 There is another subject of material importance, requiring 
 immediate consideration. From what I have seen of my own 
 attainments in theology, although I might satisfy the Bishop of 
 London's chaplain, I should by no means satisfy myself by June 
 next. I do not think I can possibly enter upon a profession of 
 such responsibility without a mucli more mature preparation. 1 
 did not know till I came hither how greatly deficient I am, and 
 I should feel myself highly culpable were I to press forward 
 without more solid acquirements and deliberate study. 
 
 After an active canvass carried on among the Fellows, 
 resident and not resident, of Merton by his friends the 
 Wilberforces and S. F. Wood, Manning was elected at Easter 
 Fellow of Merton. The emoluments attached to the Fellow- 
 ship, about £200 per annum, fortunately relieved Manning 
 from the necessity of pressing forward for Orders, and 
 enabled him to study theology for nine instead of three 
 months quietly at Merton. 
 
 In one of his Journals, Cardinal Manning, speaking of 
 this time, said : — " It was a quiet time, and Merton is the 
 most perfect resting-place in the natural order. I read 
 ' acres of Anglican writers.' " ^ 
 
 In another passage of his " Journal " he likewise 
 related how he began to analyse the Epistles of St. Paul 
 and the doctrines of predestination and grace, and declared 
 that he never in his life accepted Calvinism, even in its 
 most mitigated form : 
 
 The ethics of Aristotle and the nature of the will to morality 
 always made it impossible to me. I analysed the Epistle to the 
 Eomans, and the result was in the main exactly the Catholic 
 doctrine. I tried also to analyse the Apocalypse, but with no 
 other result than to believe that the Protestant interpretations 
 are untenable. 
 
 In spite of all this reading, or perhaps in consequence of 
 it, Manning's religious opinions on finally leaving Oxford 
 were, according to all contemporary testimony, in a state of 
 confusion or flux. In a letter already quoted, the late 
 Charles Wordsworth, Bishop of St. Andrews, speaking of 
 
 ^ In a sketch of Bishop Hamilton's life occurs the above phrase.
 
 90 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 Manning, said : " As to his religious opinions, they were 
 quite unformed till he was settled at Lavington, where I 
 paid hini two visits, both after his wife's death." 
 
 Before Henry Wilberforce had obtained a home for him 
 at Lavington, Manning's mind was troubled, as the following 
 letters show, about a suitable curacy : — 
 
 ^^^^^^- 2nd March 1832. 
 
 My dear John — The haste in which I left London prevented 
 my making such inquiries in respect of the parish of All-hallows, 
 as it is indispensably necessary I should satisfy. 
 
 I would write directly to the Dean of Chester, but I am 
 anxious not to trouble him further at present. I intend, however, 
 to call upon him on Wednesday week. I should nevertheless be 
 glad if you could ascertain for me some particulars : the number 
 of inhal)itants I believe to be about 1700. It is very material 
 in what rank of life they may be. Such a population of poor 
 would be far more than any man, and verj' far more than one 
 with my health and strength, could undertake. 
 
 If one half were poor it would be a grave responsibility for a 
 novice to assume. It is not as if I were of several years' ex- 
 perience. To visit, and to become acquainted with such numbers 
 is an office of no ordinary labour. Indeed the occasional duty 
 such as burials, christenings, etc., can be no light employment ; 
 and sufficient to preoccupy my time from the acquisition of much 
 indispensable knowledge. 
 
 Now make inquiry, and report with candour. I am canvassing the 
 question in a grave point of view. I should be guilty of a heavy 
 offence, were I to allow any secondary inducement so to influence 
 me, in such a case as this, as to overlook the spiritual evil likely 
 to result upon others from my determination. I have health and 
 strength far less than I have hitherto had, and some time will 
 elapse before I am qualified to discharge any office of much labour, 
 
 I shall return on Tuesday week. The Bishop of London has 
 desired to see me on the Thursday following. — Yours affection- 
 
 ^*^^y' Henry E. Manning. 
 
 Ath March 1832. 
 
 My DEAR John — I send you a scratch. As usual the transi- 
 tion from London to the country indulged me with a sHght touch 
 of asthma. This really makes me very anxious. I think it 
 highly questionable whether for some years I shall be able to 
 live out of London. This is the third or fourth time I have
 
 VI HOLY ORDERS AND MATRIMONY 91 
 
 been visited in like manner. Do not mention this, as my 
 mother will conjure up phantoms of suffocation and asphyxia. 
 
 If I could get a curacy in London, I should accept it; 
 provided it were not in some parts of the town to which 
 neither my health or strength are equal. — Yours, M. 
 
 Whilst he was qualifying for Orders, Manning complained 
 to S. r. Wood ^ about his uneasy state of mind, to which, 
 in a letter, dated 26th May 1832, Wood replied — 
 
 Consider how much the state you complain of may be owing 
 to what I often find myself doing — lowering my own feelings 
 to those of my companions ; and try to counteract this by 
 remembering to what higher things you are called. 
 
 In another letter, dated 15th June 1832, Wood added — 
 
 That you do not feel comfortable of course pains me ; but 
 separated as we now are, I shrink from offering any comment not 
 
 ^ During these months of trial. Manning confided his troubles and uneasy 
 state of mind to Wood, who sought, as the following extracts from his letters 
 show, to console his unhappy friend by reminding him that they had both 
 alike to give up the career they had chosen for themselves ; and that it was 
 their duty to conform their hearts to God's will : — • 
 
 "May 26, 1832. 
 
 "My dear Manning — "What a blessing is Christian friendship ! I feel 
 as if the thought suggested by your letter should doubly endear us to each 
 other, dear as I trust we are already, I mean the thought of how our 
 heavenly Father in His great love for our eternal welfare has taken from us 
 the course each of lis had fondly shaped for himself, and given it to the 
 other. I do indeed discern His hand most especially in this matter, and 
 may we both conform ourselves to His will, and run with patience the race 
 that is set before us. Most truly and wisely do you say that the lot which 
 has been apportioned to us is for our spiritual benefit. 
 
 " I think I see plainly how yoior change is for your good." 
 
 From aiiotlicr Letter. 
 "But here I find even the present blessing of the choice we have been 
 enabled, praised be God, to make. We have chosen not ourselves but 
 Christ. And this places us above self-seeking and high aims which lead to 
 these disappointments, and gives a singleness and straight-forwardness to 
 our schemes, which in the cheerfulness and fixedness it brings with it is its 
 own exceeding great reward. L says ' 0, it is a comfortable 
 
 thing to have an upright mind, and to love God for Himself, and love life for 
 His sake, and not for its own things.' " 
 
 " The Temple, Friday, 1832. 
 
 " I will get Rutherford's Letters, as you advise, which I never saw ; — I 
 remember while reading Baxter's Saint's Rest, how strongly the feelings of 
 my own deadness and coldness of spirit pressed upon me."
 
 92 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 founded on due grounds. I know you weigh what I say, as not 
 said lightly, and nothing in a case like this can ensure against 
 its adapting itself to the wrong scale. . . . When you come to 
 town you must go to William Dodsworth's Church (Margaret's, 
 Weymouth Street). I have not heard such sound doctrine for 
 some time. 
 
 At that date W. Dodsworth was an Evangelical, as indeed 
 were "Wood and Manning. In another letter about this date 
 is a passage with a full Evangelical flavour. Wood writes : — 
 
 my dear friend, how suffocating is the sense of our own 
 vileness when one loses sight of the fountain opened for sin and 
 for uncleanness, and "with what a "dimness of anguish" would 
 our eyes strain to the Christian pattern of purity were it not for 
 the blessed strengthenings of the Holy Spirit. 
 
 His leaving the Colonial Office and his return to 
 Oxford were events in Manning's life which, naturally 
 uncommunicative, he did not care to discuss or canvass with 
 his friends. If even so intimate a friend as S. F. Wood only 
 heard of Manning's sudden change of ideas in regard to the 
 Church as a profession, after his return to Oxford, it is not 
 surprising that Edward Twisleton, another friend, was left 
 to learn from common report, as the following letter shows, 
 of his friend's approaching ordination : — 
 
 54 Jertmn Street, lith December 1832. 
 
 Dear Manning — I have heard of you from many quarters, 
 more especially from Popham, who tells me that you are shortly 
 to be ordained and to take a curacy in Somersetshire — and I 
 cannot refrain from writing to assure you that you carry with you 
 my best wishes and warmest sympathies. I am convinced that 
 you will never regret having "chosen the better part"; and I 
 trust that many years hence you will look back with pleasure to 
 the day when we walked together on Waterloo Bridge — the day, 
 I believe, on which you finally determined to enter the Chiu-ch. 
 After you have been settled some time in your curacy, you must 
 give me an account of yourself — I prophesy that you will find 
 the retirement of a village curacy highly charming at first — for 
 you know you have naturally a mixture of the recluse in your 
 disposition— but I hope you Avill quietly look forward to a more 
 active sphere of exertion, and will not suffer your energies to lie 
 dormant. — Believe me, yours very sincerely, j^ Twisleton.
 
 VI HOLY ORDERS AND MATRIMONY 93 
 
 In an autobiographical Note, written more than half a 
 century after the event of taking Orders — which he justly 
 describes as a turning-point in his life — Cardinal Manning 
 recounts the motives which induced him in the year 1832 
 to resign his post in the Colonial Oflice and become a 
 clergyman in the Church of England : — 
 
 At this time I came to know Henry Blunt of Chelsea, and 
 found him not only earnest but highly intelligent. He had 
 been, I think, twelfth or fourteenth wrangler. All this made a 
 new thought spring up in me — not to be a clergyman in the 
 sense of my old destiny, but to give up the world and to Hve 
 for God, and for souls. This grew on me daily. I had been 
 long praying much, and going habitually to churches. It was a 
 turning-point in my life. I wrote and asked Henry Blunt to 
 come to me at the Colonial Office. He did so ; and, after a long 
 weighing of the case, I resolved to resign, and to give myself to the 
 service of God, and of souls. My doubt was whether God had 
 called me ; and I had a great fear of going uncalled. It was as 
 purely a call from God as all that He has given me since. It was a 
 call ad veritatem et ad seipsum. As such I tested it, and followed it. 
 
 These are very solemn words — a statement capable of 
 the highest spiritual signification — " Purely a call from 
 God : a call to Truth, and to Himself." 
 
 At first sight, at all events, such a statement seems 
 strange and startling. 
 
 Most men, it should seem, familiar with the events 
 of Manning's life in 1831-32, and who had read his con- 
 fidential letters to John Anderdon, would naturally come 
 to the conclusion that he took Orders, not of his own choice 
 and will, but under force of adverse circumstances. In his 
 numerous letters to his brother-in-law there is no allusion, 
 not a hint even, that in giving up his passion for politics he 
 was acting simply from spiritual motives, far less in obedi- 
 ence to a Divine call. John Anderdon was a religious- 
 minded man, a pious Evangelical devoted to the Church, or 
 at least to his section of it, yet in all Manning's letters from 
 Harrow, Poulshot, Oxford, and the Colonial Office religious 
 subjects found no place. Even in 1832, when he was 
 qualifying for Orders, he still speaks of the Church as a 
 " profession," describes his hurrying up to Oxford for this
 
 94 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 purpose as " a precipitate step," " as allowing the instance of 
 friends to get the better of sober judgment." Where the call 
 from God comes iu is not so apparent as to render needless 
 explanation or qualification of some sort. If Manning was 
 quickened to action by ambition, he was endowed, at the 
 same time, with great practical sagacity. He knew how to 
 devise means to attain the ends he desired ; failure in one 
 direction only sharpened his wits to discover a road to 
 success in another. After a sharp struggle, he had recog- 
 nised the fact that his father's bankruptcy put an end to 
 his hopes of a parliamentary career. The only question 
 was, What other walk in life should he look to ? A 
 subordinate post in the Colonial Office did not count for 
 much, as he was painfully reminded by Miss Deffell's 
 father in 1831. The Civil Service was a slow career, and 
 in its lower ranks unprofitable. Manning could not afford 
 to wait. Neither temperament nor circumstances allowed 
 of a waiting game. In 1832 he was twenty -five years 
 of age. He was drifting to the leeward in comparison, at 
 least, with the high hopes he had so long given way to. 
 He was still dependent on the bounty of his family.^ His 
 university education and Oxford connections pointed to the 
 Church as a profession nearest at hand, and readiest of 
 acquisition, for in three months he could, at a pinch, make 
 himself fit for Orders. Undoubtedly it was a wrench to 
 his heart to give up his political aspirations. But there 
 was no help for it, for he knew now that they had no 
 material bottom. To become a clergyman was a sacrifice — 
 a sacrifice, however, not of his own choice, but imposed 
 upon him by the necessity of things. 
 
 If the broad outlines of his life in youth were impressed 
 on the mind of Cardinal Manning, in his old age the details 
 had long since faded from his memory. The fact, however, 
 remained embedded in his mind that in becoming a clergy- 
 man he had sacrificed the desire that lay nearest to his 
 
 ' After his father's failure his mother used to allow him £100 per ann%i,m, 
 even after he was Rector of Lavington and archdeacon. In acknowledging, 
 on one occasion, the receipt of the quarterly sum of £25, Archdeacon Manning 
 wrote to his mother expressing his hope and trust that this gift was not out 
 of her necessities, but out of lier superfluities.
 
 VI HOLY ORDERS AND MATRIMONY 95 
 
 heart — the desire of a parliamentary career. What more 
 natural than to attribute the self-sacrifice made in his youth 
 to the spiritual motives and ideas with which his mind had 
 since become so deeply imbued ? He was conscious of the 
 potentiality in himself of such a sacrifice. It was only a 
 lapse of memory to convert the potential into the actual. 
 Cardinal Manning's statement, taken in the broader sense, 
 that by God's intervention he had been saved from a life in 
 the world, and had been called as a clergyman to His service 
 for the salvation of his own soul and of the souls of others, 
 is in closer accord with the facts of the case than the words 
 made use of by Cardinal Manning in his Journal in 1881. 
 Yet this view of a special call is reiterated in a Note 
 of a later date, 1883, in the following words : — 
 
 I was met at the moment of my aspirations with the ruin of 
 my father's fortunes. Public life without a penny is a hopeless 
 trade. I do not think that this in any Avay slackened my desire 
 for public life. It was the only thing I longed for. I shrunk 
 from everything else — especially from the life of a clergyman. 
 I read constitutional law, etc., and in a letter to John Anderdon I 
 said, "I am revelling in Bolingbroke's Patriot King" about 1831-2. 
 
 Nevertheless there was growing up in me a feeling or a 
 thought that I must save my own soul, and that I ought to try 
 to save others. I would have willingly preached in the open 
 air. Of Apostolical Succession, and Orders, I had little know- 
 ledge or thought. But I believed in the regeneration of 
 Baptism. This feeling that God was calling me worked con- 
 tinually. I spoke of it to no one. I could not lay it. Every 
 day it grew upon me and I found myself face to face with this 
 choice : To leave all that I was attracted to, and to take all 
 that I shrunk from. If I ever made a choice in my life in 
 which my superior will controlled my inferior will, it was when 
 I gave up all the desires, hopes, aspirations after pubUc life at 
 the dictate of my reason and my conscience. 
 
 The main difference between the two interpretations lies in 
 this, that " God's call ad veritatem ct ad seipsum," according 
 to one interpretation, took the indirect form of external 
 circumstances, and not of interior intimations, conveyed 
 directly to the soul, as asserted by the other. Of this latter 
 interpretation, at all events, there is no contemporary evi- 
 dence given by Manning in his letters to John Anderdon, or
 
 96 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 suggested even in any other form ; on the contrary, the 
 evidence, as, for instance, in S. F. Wood's letters, points 
 the other way. His exhortations to Manning to conform 
 himself to God's will, and run with patience the race that 
 is set before him, indicate the struggle which was still 
 going on in his heart, even during the time he was qualify- 
 ing for Orders — a struggle like unto that of Saul kicking 
 against the goad. From the known facts and circumstances 
 and contemporary records, the natural conclusion seems to 
 be, that Manning, in becoming a clergyman, was actuated, 
 as men often are, by mixed motives. 
 
 In this autobiographical Note, from which I have 
 just quoted, on the eventful year 1831 — a turning-point in 
 his life — Cardinal Manning observed a silence like unto 
 that of the grave, touching his first disappointment in love. 
 In compensation, as it were, he gives a full description of 
 the interior motives which induced him to become a clergy- 
 man, as well as an amusing account of the contempt with 
 which he regarded bishops of the Established Church ; he 
 makes besides a solemn declaration that in becoming a 
 clergyman he had not a spark of ecclesiastical ambition. 
 The autobiographical Note continues as follows : — 
 
 In a day or so I saw Lord Gooderich, and resigned ; but the 
 giving up of poUtical life was an enormous wrench to me. I 
 felt it through my whole mind, for I had lived for it, and had 
 been reading political economy, constitutional law, history, 
 and such books as Burke, Bolingbroke, Lord Somers, and the 
 like. When I left the Colonial Office, which was, I believe, on 
 3rd February 1832, as I walked away I met one of the door- 
 keepers of the House of Commons, whom I had known, and 
 who had known me for years. This brought back over me the 
 whole flood of political thoughts and aspirations which began in 
 the Union at Oxford. 
 
 Moreover the thought of being a clergyman was positively 
 repulsive to me. I had an intense recoil from the secularity of 
 the Established Church. I can say as before God, that I had 
 not a spark of ecclesiastical ambition. The sight of an apron 
 and a shovel hat literally provoked me. The title " Father in 
 God," applied to bishops living in ease irritated me. I remember 
 saying I shall be a proscribed minister. My one thought was 
 to obey God's will, to save my soul and the souls of others.
 
 VI HOLY ORDERS AND MATRIMONY 97 
 
 This feeling had been greatly increased by some very good, but 
 very extreme friends.^ I owe very much to them. Nobody 
 ever sought ordination with less attraction to anything but God ; 
 His Word, so far as I knew it, and souls. 
 
 In Manning's letters to his brother or to his father and 
 mother, perhaps very naturally, not the remotest hint is 
 given that the sight of an apron and shovel hat provoked 
 him to laughter, or that the title "Father in God," moved 
 him to anger. But it is more strange that not a trace of 
 this contemptuous aversion to the outward honours and 
 dignity of an Anglican bishop is to be found in contemporary 
 evidence. Far from exhibiting such aversion, Mr. Gladstone 
 says : — " Manning was always most loyal to the Church, and 
 spoke of its bishops with great reverence. I remember on 
 the occasion of an address of sympathy being presented to 
 Archbishop Howley, Manning spoke of the Archbishop of 
 Canterbury as being the head of the Church." Some 
 demurred to the use of the term " head." " But," added Mr. 
 Gladstone, laughing, " head is a very elastic word." Then 
 he suggested as an explanation, " that Manning, who was 
 always very ascetic, might have objected to bishops on 
 account of their wealth and pomp." 
 
 On Manning's being elected Fellow of Merton, he 
 hastened to communicate the good news to his mother in 
 the following letter : — 
 
 Balliol, 9th April 1832. 
 My dear Mother — Although much hurried I cannot omit to 
 send you a few lines, so gratified was I with your affectionate 
 letter of this morning. God has indeed been bountiful to us all 
 from the hour in which our former resom-ces were annihilated. 
 I have watched the gradual return of prosperity with feelings of 
 reverence, and now that I myself am thus happily provided for. 
 I am anxious still to preserve in my mind a due gratitude and 
 thoughtfulness of the Giver. 
 
 It is a hard task : and unhappily the easier our lot the less 
 we think of Him that disposes it. 
 
 My pet iron bed, and some other matters I shall want at 
 Merton. — Believe me, my dear Mother, your affectionate Son, 
 
 Henry E. Manning. 
 
 1 Miss Bevan and Robert her brother, to whom Manning owed his 
 "conversion," as he called it, at Oxford. 
 
 VOL. I H
 
 98 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 Catholic Emancipation and the Eeform Bill were the two 
 great political events of that day. About Emancipation 
 Henry Manning did not trouble his head ; but on the Eeform 
 Bill he wrote to his brother-in-law as follows : — 
 
 Merton, 1832. 
 
 M\ DEAR John — I send you a few lines to thank you for 
 your letter of this morning. The Merton election being on the 
 8th of April, I shall leave Oxford on the following day. 
 
 So the great question has passed one important inquisition. 
 I wish it well as to its integrity. Some of the details, should 
 they have an unfavoui'able tendency, I should be glad to see 
 remodelled. I wish to see the most efficient and most trust- 
 worthy men elected to Parliament. I wish to see the unconsti- 
 tutional influence of the aristocracy and hovon^- mongers 
 extinguished. I wish to see the expenses of election, and 
 thereby the corruption, annihilated. I ^vish to see the franchise 
 vested in the most intelligent, moral, and stable members of the 
 community : such men as have interests in securing public order 
 and power to repress democratic turbulence. I wish to see our 
 virtual representation improved by an approximation to actual 
 representation. I wish to see the large towns teeming with 
 interests and swelling with riches, return their members to serve 
 in Parliament. I wish to see ditches, walls, mounds, and 
 corn-fields cease to stultify the people of England by claiming 
 representatives, where nought is to represent. These are my 
 wishes. I hate democracy, because I hate tyranny. The tyranny 
 of licentiousness is more intolerable than the tyranny of despotism. 
 I hate democrats because they are reckless and desperate men, 
 trusting to their own cunning to save their necks, and to their 
 irredeemable indigence to secure them possessions ; behold the 
 democratic security of person and property. I hate universal 
 suffrage, annual Parliaments, secret voting, Parliamentary 
 societies, potwalloping constituencies like Penryn because they 
 have each in its proportion a tendency to the above. — Yours 
 truly, H. M. 
 
 But home-thoughts as well as politics occupied Manning's 
 mind. The following letter to his sister Maria, wife of 
 John Anderdon, was written just a month before he took 
 Orders : — 
 
 Merton, 23rd Nov. 1832. 
 
 To his very excellent and dear Sister Maria, and to her two 
 younger daughters, the old Monk sends peace and good wishes.
 
 VI HOLY ORDERS AND MATRIMONY 99 
 
 Whereas he has promised to wiite to them all three this week, 
 and whereas he is not altogether at leisure, and whereas there is 
 no post to-morrow, he is compelled to write a sweeper to-day, 
 
 Let each take her own. 
 
 My dear Sister — 
 
 ... I suppose your husband is pottering on in his own old 
 way. We now and then fire a squib at each other ; but are not 
 quite as good correspondents as in days agone. You do not tell 
 me anything about your revolutionary household, when I left you 
 I remember there was much reform needed, and no little un- 
 pleasant examination to be made. . . . You may read on, but as 
 I have to answer Fanny's theological queries, I must wish you 
 good-bye. — Believe me, your affectionate brother, H. M.^ 
 
 On the 23rd of December 1832, Manning was ordained 
 by Dr. Bagot, Bishop of Oxford, through letters demissory 
 from the Bishop of Eochester, on the title of his Fellowship at 
 Merton. His first sermon ^ was preached on Christmas day, 
 as Cardinal Manning told me five or six years ago, at the 
 Church of Cuddesdon, where Mr. George Anthony Denison, 
 now Archdeacon of Taunton, was curate, on the text, 
 " Surge illuminare Jerusalem." 
 
 The venerable Archdeacon Denison, in a letter dated 
 2nd February 1889, says :— 
 
 The Cardinal recalled to me not very long ago his first 
 preaching for me, then curate of Cuddesdon, in dear Bishop 
 Bagot's time, 1832-8. I have no memoranda enabling me to 
 answer your first question put to me about my impressions in 
 regard to the Cardinal in early days of my life — nothing 
 certainly unfavourable. I became acquainted with him at first 
 as an acquaintance only ; afterwards we came nearer together in 
 public action. He was an intimate friend of my dear brother 
 Stephen at Oxford. My brother is long since dead. 
 
 In regard to his first sermon, Cardinal Manning wrote 
 to his sister Mrs. Austen, in a letter dated 
 
 Archbishop's House, Westminster, S.W., 
 ^th January 1882. 
 
 My dear Caroline . . . This is the fiftieth year since I 
 
 1 Other letters follow to his young nieces which need not be given. 
 
 - His first sermon as a Catholic, twenty years afterwards, was preached at 
 a little church in Horseferrj' Road, under the charge of the Jesuits, then, if 
 not now, in the slums of Westminster,
 
 100 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 began to preach. Last night I preached on the same words 
 which were my first text on Christmas day 1832, Isaiah Ix. 
 1, 2, 3. I hope we may enter into that light.^ 
 
 The tables show that the 8th of January 1882 was a 
 Sunday, the Sunday within the octave of the Epiphany ; 
 the sermon was preached at the Italian Church, Hatton 
 Garden. 
 
 On 3rd January 1833, Manning went to Lavington 
 as curate to the Kev. John Sargent, Eector of Lavington 
 and Graffham. Henry Wilberforce, who expected to take 
 orders about Easter or midsummer, had no difficulty in 
 arranging with the Sargents, that at any rate in the interim 
 until his own ordination, Manning should act as curate. 
 He also had the charge of a very small twelfth-century 
 church on the Downs at Upwaltham — a hamlet about two 
 miles from Lavington, with less than 100 people, chiefly 
 shepherds and farm labourers. The little church held less 
 than forty people ; not more than a dozen attended on 
 Sundays Manning's ministrations or sermons.^ Manning's 
 half-sister, Mrs. Carey, was living at Graffham ; the rector 
 with his wife and daughters occupied Graffham Eectory. 
 Mrs. Sargent, daughter and heiress of Eichard Bettesworth, 
 and widow of John Sargent, M.P. for Seaford, who died the 
 year before (1831), lived at Lavington House and was 
 patron of the benefice. Manning had the good fortune to 
 be invited by Mr. Sargent to reside as curate with the family 
 at the Eectory House. His friend, S. F. Wood, wrote to 
 congratulate him on the happy arrangement, which he had 
 heard of from Henry Wilberforce. 
 
 That the young curate fulfilled his duties with zeal and 
 alacrity goes without saying. He was indefatigable in his 
 walks over the Downs to Upwaltham, talking to the stray 
 shepherds on the hillsides, or seeking out their wives and 
 children. It was in every sense of the word an uphill 
 
 ^ Private letters. 
 
 - When I went there I fully expected to return to Oxford before the 
 summer, I had nothing before me, I disliked tho whole state of the Church 
 of England ; and felt drawn to nothing but preaching the Word of God in 
 public or in private. — Autobiographical Notes 1881.
 
 VI HOLY ORDERS AND MATRIMONY 101 
 
 work. Rarely were more than teu or a dozen people 
 gathered of a Sunday morning at Upwaltham Church. The 
 handsome young curate's graceful sermons were, however, 
 listened to with special pleasure, on Sunday morning or 
 evening, at Graffham or Lavington. Mr. Sargent himself 
 took pleasure in Manning's varied conversation, and the 
 zealous and learned Evangelical rector, not an unworthy 
 disciple of Simeon under whose influence he fell at 
 Cambridge, was perfectly satisfied with the theological 
 soundness of his young curate who, though fresh from 
 Oxford, brought down to Lavington no High Church views 
 or pretensions. 
 
 In 1829, about three years before Manning came as 
 curate to Lavington, Emily, the eldest of the four Miss 
 Sargents, was married to Samuel Wilberforce, then rector of 
 Brighstone, Isle of Wight. She, like her sisters, on the 
 death of her father and of his two sons, who died early, 
 became entitled to a fortune. Her three unmarried sisters, 
 of whom Caroline was the third, were living at the 
 Graffham Rectory. The handsome young curate, as 
 fascinating in manners as he was religious-minded, soon 
 made himself quite at home with Mrs. Sargent and her charm- 
 ing daughters. Mrs. Sargent was beloved by all her family, 
 especially by her son-in-law, Samuel Wilberforce, in whose 
 house she lived, after the death of his wife in 1841, for 
 twenty years. 
 
 Speaking of the Miss Sargents, Thomas Mozley says : — 
 "In 1829 1 met all the four celebrated sisters together at 
 breakfast at Robert Wilberforce's, and looked at them with a 
 strong mixture of curiosity and admiration. Mrs. S. Wilber- 
 force was a bride in her first year. The brighter constellation 
 must have eclipsed the brothers from my memory — I 
 remember Samuel. The youngest seemed a mere child, 
 indeed, she looked hardly more, when I saw her at Hanbury 
 in Staffordshire, seven years after, as Mrs. Dudley Ryder — a 
 very sylph in form as in feature.. I met Mrs. S. Wilberforce 
 not two years before her death ; she was still beautiful, but 
 her strength was evidently declining." ^ 
 
 1 Reminisceiices of Oriel, vol. i. p. 131.
 
 102 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 As friends of the Wilberforces and as frequent visitors 
 to Oxford there can be but little doubt that the four Miss 
 Sargents were acquainted with Manning in his under- 
 graduate days. But to meet girls up in Oxford at the 
 festivities of Commemoration is quite a different thing from 
 becoming intimately acquainted with them in their own 
 homes, as Manning became with the Miss Sargents at 
 Lavington,^ under the piloting hand of Henry Wilberforce, 
 who was engaged to marry Mary Sargent. In those days 
 of early love Henry Wilberforce frequently ran down from 
 Oxford and formed one of the bright, genial, and happy 
 party who used to assemble of an evening in the Graffham 
 Rectory, after a pleasant stroll on a bright Spring day over 
 the South Downs, on a visit, perhaps, to the curate's little 
 church at Upwaltham. On such favourable occasions, the 
 fondness for speaking which he first learnt at the Union, still 
 strong upon him — as it was indeed to the end of his life — 
 Manning was led to deliver to the admiring girls and to 
 Henry Wilberforce, listening with wonted reverence, little 
 lectures, more or less learned, on the beauties of twelfth- 
 century architecture. If Manning himself in after-life was 
 silent on the events of those days of hope and joy and 
 love, Henry Wilberforce to the last was never tired of 
 telling pleasant stories of the double courtship ; or of 
 marvelling, whilst making faces at himself in the glass, 
 " how the most beautiful woman in the world could have 
 loved and married such an ugly fellow as I am." 
 
 Under such favouring circumstances of time and tide, 
 
 the fascinating young Curate of Lavington and Graffham 
 
 ^ On entering upon the duties of his curacy S. F. Wood wrote as 
 follows : — 
 
 ''March 17, 1833. 
 
 "My dear Manning — I rejoice for your sake that you are acquiring — 
 however bitter be the lesson — the most precious knowledge of your own 
 heart, and I rejoice, too, that the means which discover it to you are such 
 as lead you to the active and social duties of holiness rather than (what I 
 think we both inclined to) to secret brooding and repining over it." 
 
 From tlie Same. 
 
 "Let us not faint, my dear friend, but pray to the same Spirit who dis- 
 covers to us the root of bitterness, for strength to pluck it out."
 
 VI HOLY ORDERS AND MATRIMONY 103 
 
 made his choice; and in the spring-time of 1833, not very 
 long after the death of her father, Caroline Sargent accepted 
 Manning as her husband. On the death of the Eev. John 
 Sargent^ on the 3rd of May 1833, from consumption, 
 accelerated by an attack of influenza, which was in that year 
 as prevalent, if not as fatal, as it was a year or two ago, Mrs. 
 Sargent of Lavington House, as patron of the benefice, pre- 
 sented the living to Manning, as she had presented it twenty- 
 seven years before to her son, the late rector. In June he 
 was formally inducted into the living by Samuel Wilberforce. 
 With his wonted reserve. Manning had not communi- 
 cated his approaching marriage with Caroline Sargent even 
 to so intimate a friend as S. F. Wood, but, hearing the news 
 from Henry Wilberforce, the most communicative of men. 
 Wood congratulates Manning in the following terms : — 
 
 12 Paper Buildings, Temple, Sunday. 
 
 My dear Manning — I was truly grieved that we did not 
 meet during the few days you were in town ; we had so much of 
 interest to talk about. It is very delightful to be able to go 
 further than the commonplaces of congratulation on your present 
 prospects to know that the engagement, being entered into in all its 
 sacredness, brings along with it the pledged blessing of God, and 
 a new and more extended range of true Christian joy. Such 
 an opinion founded on what I know of you, and all I have heard 
 of the Sargents, is better than a thousand idle wishes, and I 
 believe (I need not say I hope) that your marriage will be a very 
 holy, and a very happy one. When you write, pray let me know 
 when it is to take place, and any communication about it or your 
 plans, which your feelings allow you to make, will be read with 
 very great interest. 
 
 I had heard of it from H. Wilberforce, who spoke with his 
 usual affectionate and self-regardless spirit on the subject. 
 
 I do not suppose that public news Avill much interest you at 
 present. Believe me, very affectionately yours, 
 
 S. F. Wood. 
 
 None of the numerous letters of congratulation which 
 
 ^ On the death of the Rev. John Sargent, Rector of Lavington, in May 
 1833, S. F. Wood writes to Manning as follows : "May we find each other, 
 my dear friend, stablished by every trial in holiness, growing up into the 
 full proportions and refreshed (as is due to this season) by the abundant 
 power of the Holy Ghost ! "
 
 104 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 Manning received on the auspicious occasion of his marriage 
 with Caroline Sargent have been preserved, except the above 
 characteristic letter of Wood's. It is not, however, to be 
 regarded as the survival of the fittest, for I am afraid it was 
 only by accident or oversight that it escaped the flames or 
 the scissors.'^ 
 
 On the 7th of November 1833, Manning, Eector of 
 Lavington, married Caroline, the third daughter of Mrs. 
 John Sargent, and grand-daughter of Mrs. Sargent of Lav- 
 ington House and Manor. The marriage ceremony was 
 performed at Lavington Church by Samuel Wilberforce, then 
 Eector of Brighstone, Isle of Wight, Manning and Wilberforce 
 thus becoming brothers-in-law. Owing to the recent death 
 of the bride's father, the Eev. John Sargent, the wedding 
 was celebrated in a very quiet fashion. Manning and his 
 wife took up their residence at Lavington Eectory. 
 
 By this marriage the designs of Providence in regard to 
 the future Cardinal of the Holy Eoman Church seemed to 
 have been frustrated. But Providence has a long arm, and 
 God in his wisdom^ took to Himself, in the fourth year of 
 her marriage, the wife of Henry Edward Manning — the 
 cardinal priest to be.^ 
 
 About his marriage Cardinal Manning always observed a 
 singular reticence. In his Anglican days, the death of his 
 wife produced in his heart and whole nature a grief so pro- 
 found and abiding, as to forbid even the mention of her 
 name. As a Priest and Cardinal of the Holy Eoman Church, 
 he never alluded to his marriage, either because the fact of 
 liis having once been a married man was personally painful ; 
 or because he feared that the common knowledge of his 
 early marriage, strange as it may seem, might produce, 
 somehow or other, among his Catholic flock, especially 
 
 * On his death in the year 1880, Frederick Manning bequeathed to his 
 brother Henry two volumes of his letters extending over a period of twenty 
 years, 1830-50, but Cardinal Manning's ruthless scissors destroyed all the 
 letters, 1833-37, covering the interesting period of his married life. 
 
 2 In Manning's Diary, dated 1844-47, among "God's Ten Special 
 Mercies," is to be found the date "1837," the year of his wife's death ; see Diary. 
 
 3 If, instead of marrying Caroline, Manning had married either of the 
 other two unmarried daughters of Mrs. Sargent, who did not die young, what 
 a different life would not bis have been !
 
 VI HOLY ORDERS AND MATRIMONY 105 
 
 priests, monks, and nuns, an unpleasant impression deroga- 
 tory to his high ecclesiastical dignity and position. So 
 effectually was the story of his marriage suppressed, that on 
 his death. Catholics with one or two exceptions, as well as the 
 general public, knew nothing about his married life. 
 
 In all the late Cardinal Manning's letters innumerable, 
 in his journals, diaries, note-books, and memoranda ; in his 
 most intimate communications, not the remotest allusion is 
 made to his marriage, except in one brief record written 
 obviously for after-publication, about the year 1880. This 
 autobiographical Note may be aptly described as Manning's 
 apologia pro matrimonio sua. It is as follows : — 
 
 Suddenly, on 3rd May 1833, Mr. Sargent, the Rector (of 
 Lavington and Grafi'ham) died, and the livings were given to me. 
 At that time I was as ignorant of the Catholic Church — of its 
 faith, its priesthood, its counsels, its instincts — as the dead. I 
 was never opposed to the Catholic Church, for I had not been 
 reared in that way. I knew absolutely nothing about it. I had 
 grown up as an Englishman, and had turned with all my soul to 
 God, and had given up political life for His service.^ In this 
 state of mind and light, knowing nothing of the Catholic life, or 
 instincts, or perfections ; in November 1833, I married, and in 
 July 1837, found mj'^self again in the state in which I have been 
 for more than forty years. The cause of death was not what some 
 writer has imagined, but consumption, which had already carried 
 off two of the family, an elder brother and a sister.^ 
 
 Cardinal Manning chronicles his marriage and its dis- 
 solution by death in one brief sentence. But the first four 
 years of the happy married life and ministerial work of 
 the Eector of Lavington cannot be so summarily dismissed. 
 
 ^ In his " Reminiscences," written late in life, Cardinal Manning seems to 
 have "caught on" to the idea that in resigning his clerkship in the Colonial 
 OflBce, he was giving up " political life," whereas, in reality, he was only 
 giving up the Civil Service. For the Colonial Office is no more a school for 
 politics than the Foreign Office or Somerset House, or the Post Office. His 
 chance of entering into political life was lost by his father's bankruptcy 
 in 1831. " Politics," as the Cardinal himself said in regard to his own case, 
 "without a penny in one's pocket, is a bad trade." 
 
 - Mrs. Manning's elder brother predeceased her, but her sister, Mrs. S. 
 Wilberforce, did not die until 1841.
 
 CHAPTEK VII 
 
 THE RECTOK OF LAVINGTON EARLY WORK DEATH OF HIS WIFE 
 
 1833-1837 
 
 "When Manning left Oxford," as Mr. Thomas Mozley 
 relates in his Reminiscences of Oriel, " he passed rapidly and 
 completely from politics to a high part. He was heard of 
 as a great speaker at religious meetings." The young 
 undergraduate of three years ago, the fluent debater at the 
 Union, was now transformed into a grave ecclesiastic ; but, 
 true to the bent of his nature, he made use of his great 
 gifts as a speaker, not now to excite the enthusiastic 
 applause of his fellow undergraduates, but to win the hearts 
 of grown-up men and women to the cause of religion. His 
 voice was as persuasive and captivating — if not at Exeter 
 Hall, at religious meetings in the country of the type 
 common in that day of Evangelical ascendency — as it had 
 been at the Union. 
 
 It speaks well for his earnestness of character and great 
 adaptability to circumstances that Manning, at the age of 
 twenty-six, should have so readily made himself at home in 
 a little country village, and endeared himself so soon as their 
 spiritual friend and teacher to the rustics and shepherds of 
 Lavington parish. The late rector, the Eev. John Sargent, 
 was an earnest Evangelical, imbued with the spirit of 
 Simeon, weU known as one of the leaders and shining lights 
 of the Evangelical party. For twenty-seven years he had 
 lived and laboured in the united parishes of Lavington and 
 Graffham. Parish and parsonage were imbued with his 
 spirit. He handed on to his successor the pious traditions
 
 CHAP. VII THE RECTOR OF LAVINGTON 107 
 
 of the Evangelical School, already at the beginning of its 
 decline. Like Manning, John Sargent was a scholar and, 
 what his successor at Lavington was not, a poet. 
 
 Fortunately for the peace of the parishioners, and of the 
 Sargent family and household at the Eectory at Graffham, 
 and of Mrs. Sargent, the mother of the late rector, at 
 Lavington House, Manning had no novel views to expound 
 in religion. He did not bring down with him to Lavington 
 the infection, in its seed-time, of Puseyism, as it was called 
 in those days. His mind was free from all doubt or 
 trouble about the Primitive Church or the Church of Eome, 
 or about the relation of the Church of England to antiquity 
 and tradition, or about the Thirty-nine Articles and the 
 nature and extent of their authority. By such questions or 
 controversies, which were perplexing the heart of Newman 
 and his disciples at Oxford, Manning set no store.^ Still 
 less was his spirit vexed by the faintest misgiving as to the 
 " blessed results of the Eeformation," as he was wont, in his 
 Evangelical zeal, to describe the fatal work of the Eeformers. 
 Cranmer, Eidley, and Latimer were, indeed, men after his 
 own, and — as he stoutly maintained — after God's heart. 
 
 When Manning was qualifying for Orders in 1832 the 
 Tracts for the Times had not yet been started. Newman 
 indeed was writing a series of Letters ^ in the Record, to the 
 setting up of which well-known Evangelical paper he had 
 subscribed a few years before a small sum. But Manning 
 knew nothing of the great religious movement that was 
 going on. During his last year at Oxford, when he was 
 
 ^ In speaking last year of his undergraduate days and Manning's, Mr. 
 Gladstone said, " On one occasion, Henry Wilberforce told me in liis abrupt 
 fashion that he was a High Churchman. I certainly was surprised that one 
 bearing his name had given up Evangelicalism. His father, the great 
 philanthropist, was indignant beyond measure, and, fearing that the name 
 would be degraded, was about to forbid his son Henry taking Orders ; but, 
 having a high opinion of Manning's piety and good sense, consulted him on 
 the point. Manning said, ' Let him become a clergyman ; work among the 
 poor, and the visiting of the sick and dying will soon knock such High Church 
 nonsense out of his head." 
 
 ^ Newman's Letters, in reply to attacks on and misrepresentations of his 
 religious opinions, were so mauled and mutilated by the editor of the Record 
 that Newman refused to continue the series.
 
 108 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 qualifying for Orders, he did not, as he has recorded, even 
 once meet Newman. The echoes of Keble's famous sermon 
 on National Apostasy — a sermon which roused the hearts 
 of men, and stirred Oxford to its depths, and to which 
 Newman assigned the origin of the Tractarian movement 
 — could scarcely have reached, since there are times and 
 seasons for all things, during those happy summer months 
 of 1833, the preoccupied heart of the young Eector of 
 Lavington. Manning, indeed, was comfortably settled some 
 three or four months at the rectory, on the eve of his 
 marriage with Caroline Sargent, when the future leader of 
 the Oxford Movement opened the Tracts for the Times on 
 the 9 th of September with the memorable words : " I am 
 but one of yourselves, and a Presbyter." 
 
 Like Mr. Gladstone, Manning had left Oxford after 
 taking his degree without knowing, without even a sus- 
 picion, of the religious ferment going on in the minds of 
 Newman and Hurrell Froude, and of those under their 
 immediate influence. 
 
 " When I left Oxford," Mr. Gladstone tells me to-day, 
 " I should have said we were on smooth waters : there was 
 no indication of the coming storm. From Thomas Mozley's 
 Beminiscences I first learnt that in Oriel there was a move- 
 ment going on at the time. I cannot say whether I knew 
 Hurrell Froude of Oriel ; I think I did ; I am not sure.^ 
 But Manning knew nothing of Froude. I don't believe he 
 was on terms of intimacy with Newman." Then he added ; 
 " How could he be ? Newman was Fellow of Oriel, and held 
 no office in the University, and Manning was an under- 
 graduate belonging to another college." 
 
 Manning's personal piety was beyond question. He was 
 a devout believer in God and in the Bible. To preach His 
 Word to the poor and to the ignorant was the aim and 
 delight of his life at Lavington. This Evangelical spirit, 
 quite in keeping with that of their late rector, endeared 
 him to his parishioners. It was not so much the substance 
 
 ' In tlje course of conversation Mr. Gladstone said, " I was disappointed 
 with Fronde's EeviaiTis ; he was distinguished not so much by intellectual 
 power as by force of character. That accounts for his undoubted influence."
 
 VII THE RECTOR OF LAVINGTON 109 
 
 of his sermons as his impressive and earnest manner that 
 attracted those who came to hear him or those unto whom 
 he went out to preach. In after-life he disclaimed the 
 title of Tractarian, of High Churchman, and of Low Church- 
 man alike ; if he is to be called by any religious party 
 name, we can not do better than accept his own definition. 
 As a Catholic he said of himself : " I was a Pietist until I 
 accepted the Tridentine Decrees." 
 
 For twenty-seven years his predecessor had laboured in 
 what he delighted to call "the Lord's vineyard" at Lavington. 
 The Kev. John Sargent was a man of culture, of varied read- 
 ing, and the author of "The Vision of Stonehenge," and other 
 poems of no mean order. His heart and mind were devoted 
 to his little parish. He was content within its narrow- 
 bounds, and sought no preferment. Manning followed in 
 his footsteps. It was not long before the rector knew not 
 merely by sight but by name every one of his scattered 
 flock. He visited their homes and established Bible 
 readings. The Rector's wife, imbued by a like spirit of 
 Evangelical piety, took her part in every good work. She 
 was his constant companion, accompanying him on his visits 
 to the poor, or sitting by his side whilst he was composing 
 his sermons, or reading over with interest and admiration 
 the neatly written sheets. 
 
 Fortunately, I can call the best of all evidence as to the 
 way in which Manning discharged his ministerial duties as 
 Eector of Lavington, and with what zeal he tended to the 
 spiritual interests and temporal wants of his little rustic 
 flock — the evidence of still-living witnesses. One of these, 
 Mr. Richmond, R.A., the celebrated painter, whose unbroken 
 friendship with Manning began in the thirties, describes 
 Lavington as a model parish : the gentle influence of the 
 Rector was everywhere felt ; his administrative skill was 
 apparent in every detail in the management of the parish 
 as in the order and arrangement of the church. His 
 kindness of heart and sympathy drew by degrees almost 
 the whole parish to the little church. This eye-witness, 
 who, in those far-off days, was a frequent visitor at the 
 rectory, speaks with high appreciation of the aid offered to
 
 110 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 the Kector of Lavington by his wife in tending to tlie 
 wants, spiritual and temporal, of the villagers and shepherds, 
 in visiting and comforting the sick or the afHicted, and in 
 looking after the village school. Daily morning prayers 
 were the rule in the little church. In the preface to the 
 Prayer Book it is directed that " the curate that ministereth 
 in every parish church or chapel shall say morning and 
 evening prayer, and shall cause a bell to be tolled thereunto 
 a convenient time before he begin, that the people may come 
 to hear God's Word and to pray with him." " It was a 
 picturesque sight," says this friend of Manning in his 
 Lavington days, " to watch the zealous and stately rector, 
 vested in surplice, himself tolling the bell, whilst in the 
 grey of a winter's morning the straggling villagers hurried 
 to morning prayer before going out to their daily toil in 
 the fields." 
 
 To inculcate the duty of daily prayer in the parish 
 church was a task, which Manning set himself to with 
 characteristic zeal. His simple and persuasive words, more 
 than the tolling of the bell, drew by degrees the villagers 
 to the little church for morning or evening prayer. It 
 was one of the happiest results of his pastoral work. " The 
 language of the English liturgy," as the Cardinal once 
 remarked, " was no more and no less intelligible to my 
 rustic congregation than would have been the Latin offices 
 of the Catholic Church." 
 
 Mr. Eichmond well remembers the Eector of Lavington's 
 beautiful young wife. On one occasion, in the Spring of 
 1837, she gave him a first sitting for her portrait, but 
 died before she could give a second. The unfinished sketch 
 mysteriously disappeared, or, as Mr. Eichmond says, he 
 would have completed it from memory. 
 
 On the other hand, the Eector of Lavington was a 
 somewhat strict disciplinarian ; he might almost be called 
 an ecclesiastical martinet in regard to his church and 
 parish. Among other rules, he insisted that none had a 
 right to take part in the service unless they had joined 
 in the confession and received absolution. A little of his 
 ancient discipline would not have been amiss at a later
 
 VII THE RECTOR OF LAVINGTON 111 
 
 period of his life in the churches under the Cardinal's 
 jurisdiction, where the dropping-in of late-comers on Sunday 
 mornings is much more common than in the Anglican 
 churches. To mark his displeasure at the late ones, the 
 Kector of Lavington made a practice of stopping till they 
 were seated, and had presumably done penance for their 
 remissness. " On one occasion," as Mr. Mozley relates, " the 
 church door opened. Mr. Manning stopped. An old lady 
 was heard tottering to her pew. There was a terrible fall. 
 It was Mr. Manning's own mother, who had vainly en- 
 deavoured to hurry her pace during the reader's awful 
 pause." ^ 
 
 There is another living witness to Manning's work 
 at Lavington — Mr. Gladstone. In a conversation a 
 few years ago on this subject, Mr. Gladstone said : 
 " Manning's devotion to his pastoral work had the most 
 successful results. The population of the parish was small, 
 but Manning on one occasion told me that almost every 
 parishioner was a communicant. That," added Mr. Glad- 
 stone, " was as it ought to be." Referring to the nature 
 of his work, Mr. Gladstone said : — " Manning did not, of 
 course, as rector of a small, unimportant parish, advocate 
 any special views ; his sermons at Lavington, both as rector 
 and afterwards as archdeacon, were simple, moral discourses. 
 Of course they were not printed. There is another witness," 
 Mr. Gladstone added, " who knew more of him than I did 
 in his early days at Lavington, and that is Lord Chichester. 
 He was an Evangelical, not only at that time, but he 
 remained an Evangelical to the end ; and he told me that 
 Manning was the most exemplary clergyman he had ever 
 known, both for his pastoral zeal and personal holiness." 
 
 As yet Manning had made no mark in the Church he 
 loved so well. His love and labours were confined to 
 the narrow limits of his own parish. The controversies 
 which the Tracts for the Times were exciting in Oxford 
 and in the religious world beyond, had not, as yet, ruffled 
 the surface of Manning's mind, or disturbed the happy 
 serenity of Lavington, where the pious Evangelicalism of 
 
 ^ Thomas Mozley's Reminiscences of Oriel, vol, i. p. 426.
 
 112 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 the rector's wife found a counterpart and crown in the 
 zealous Pietism of the rector. I cannot do better than 
 recite Manning's own account of his religious opinions in 
 those early Lavington days, 1833-37. 
 
 In an autobiographical Note in his "Journal," dated 
 1878-82, Cardinal Manning wrote as follows: — 
 
 The state of my religious belief in 1833 was profound faith 
 in the Holy Trinity and the Incarnation, in the Redemption by 
 the Passion of our Lord, and in the work of the Holy Spirit, 
 and the conversion of the soul. I believed in baptismal regenera- 
 tion, and in a spiritual, but real, receiving of our Lord in Holy 
 Communion. As to the Church, I had no definite conception. 
 I had rejected the whole idea of the Established Church. 
 Erastianism was hateful to me. The royal supremacy was, in 
 my mind, an invasion of the Headship of our Lord. In truth, 
 I had thought and read myself out of contact with every system 
 known to me. Anglicanism was formal and dry, Evangeli- 
 calism illogical, and at variance with the New Testament, 
 Nonconformity was to me mere disorder. Of the Catholic 
 Church I knew nothing. I was completely isolated. But I 
 held intensely to the "Word of God," and the work of souls. 
 In this state I began preaching to the poor in church, and in 
 their homes. 
 
 The first question that rose in my mind was. What right 
 have you to be teaching, admonishing, reforming, rebuking 
 others ? By what authority do you lift the latch of a poor 
 man's door and enter and sit down and begin to instruct or to 
 correct him ? This train of thought forced me to see that no 
 culture or knowledge of Greek or Latin would suffice for this. 
 That if I was not a messenger sent from God, I was an intruder 
 and impertinent. 
 
 As time went on, and the Oxford Movement grew in 
 volume and intensity, and penetrated even the quiet pre- 
 cincts of Chichester, though ruled by the lowest of Low 
 Church bishops, Manning's religious opinions were beginning 
 to take a more definite form. His sermons in those early 
 days were not printed, but I learn from contemporary 
 sources that they only advocated, even if preached beyond 
 range of his own parish, such doctrines and guiding prin- 
 ciples of the Church of England as were commonly accepted 
 at that date by all parties within the Church. But in -Tuly
 
 VII THE RECTOR OF LAVINGTON 113 
 
 1835 Manning was invited by Archdeacon Webber to 
 preach at Chichester Cathedral. This, his first published 
 sermon, was entitled, Tlie English Church : its Succession 
 and Witness for Christ, and was preached on the occasion 
 of an archidiaconal visitation at the Cathedral of Chichester, 
 7th, July 1835. His selection as preacher on such an 
 occasion was a high tribute to his oratorical repute. The 
 object of the sermon was to prove the apostolic succession, 
 and to show that the English bishops were the successors 
 in lineal descent of the apostles. The argument was 
 apparently directed against what Churchmen in those days 
 regarded as the arrogant claims advanced by Dissent and 
 its supporters in and out of Parliament to be put on a level 
 with the Church of England. 
 
 I will recite the opening passage of this sermon as 
 characteristic : — 
 
 In obeying the call to address you, my reverend brethren, 
 it seemed right to select a topic of the simplest nature, and of 
 the most extended interest as being the fittest for me to handle, 
 and, therefore, the worthiest for you to hear. Leaving, then, 
 for others the more perfect wisdom and the higher mysteries of 
 our holy faith, I have chosen a subject with which to be 
 familiar is a prerequisite to the r6le of our sacred ministry. 
 For the first fifteen hundred years of Christian antiquity, Christ's 
 earthly Church was one, and His ministry one, till apostolic 
 unity of faith and practice withered away in the hollow sameness 
 of the Roman ceremonial. Now, for three hundred years men 
 have seemed to sicken of the very name of unity, and to con- 
 template the unhealthy self -production of sect and divisions 
 within the bosom of the Church with a spurious charity, a cold 
 indifference, and even a misguided satisfaction. At length it 
 has come to pass that every one of the self-separated fragments 
 of the body catholic has successfully preferred a claim for itself 
 and its teachers to be regarded as the Church and ministry 
 of Christ. 
 
 The preacher, addressing a sympathetic congregation of 
 clergy assembled at the visitation, then put the pregnant 
 question — " Our commission to witness for Christ hangs on 
 this question, Are the bishops of our Church the successors 
 in lineal descent of the Lord's apostles ? " The question 
 was answered to the satisfaction alike of the preacher and 
 
 VOL I I
 
 114 CAKDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 the congregation. The subject matter of the sermon as 
 well as the stately manner of its delivery obtained for the 
 preacher the well -deserved recognition of a request for 
 its publication. Apostolic succession is a doctrine not 
 ungrateful even to Evangelical clergy or a Low Church 
 bishop. Manning's first essay in dogmatic religion was a 
 success. It was published with copious notes and learned 
 quotations from the Fathers and Anglican divines of the 
 seventeenth century. His brother-in-law, Mr. John Ander- 
 don, the author of the Life of BisJiop Ken, wrote in part, 
 in part revised Manning's first published sermon. 
 
 On this sermon Cardinal Manning has the following 
 Note : — 
 
 At the visitation of September 1835, I preached a sermon 
 on the " Succession and the Evidences of the Church." The 
 Oxford Tracts had been coming out for some years. I agreed 
 with them in outHne, and in the main, but remotely, and so as 
 to make me unable to identify myself with them. My only 
 participation in them was to send a catena of quotations on 
 tradition from Anglican ^vriters, which was incorporated in a 
 larger list. 
 
 The appointment of Dr. Hampden to the Eegius Pro- 
 fessorship of Divinity in 1836 roused strong feeling in 
 Oxford. Tractarians and Evangelicals, at daggers-drawn on 
 every other question, were of one mind and one heart in oppos- 
 ing L-. Hampden, who was denounced as a Semi-Arian. His 
 Bampton Lectures^ — The Scholastic TJieology : considered 
 in its Relations to Christian Theology — were attacked on 
 all sides, and the author was charged with Eationalism and 
 Socinianism. In order, it was hoped, to render his appoint- 
 ment as Regius Professor of Divinity impossible, a motion 
 was made before Convocation to condemn his Bampton 
 Lectures. " Puseyites and Peculiars " ^ stood shoulder to 
 shoulder on this unique occasion. 
 
 ^ The Bampton Lectures were founded by the Rev. John Bampton, Canon 
 of Salisbury, in 1780. These lectures, eight in number, are delivered 
 annually at St. Mary's, Oxford, the foundation being vested in the University 
 of Oxford. The subjects of the lectures are mainly connected with the 
 Christian evidences. 
 
 "^ "Peculiars " was a nickname given at Oxford to the Low Church party.
 
 VII EARLY WORK 115 
 
 Cardinal Manning, in the year 1887, related to me how 
 he and his old Oxford friend, Edward Twisleton, went up 
 to Oxford together to give their vote : — " When the voting 
 took place Twisleton walked first and I followed him ; 
 passing by the proctor into a circular gallery, he voted 
 against the condemnation, I for. On coming out, Twisleton 
 said, in explanation of his vote, 'Dr. Hampden to-day; 
 to-morrow it will be Neander's (Newman) turn.^ There 
 is a party of German Eationalists rising up in the Univer- 
 sity which will carry all before it.' " Cardinal Manning 
 told this anecdote in illustration of his friend's singular 
 perspicacity and foresight, adding, " Twisleton was a Commis- 
 sioner under the Poor Law ; I was in constant communica- 
 tion with him. He was a good man ; he died about fifteen 
 years ago." 
 
 In those days the meeting place of the Society for 
 Promoting Christian Knowledge was the battle-ground for 
 many a stout fight between the Evangelicals and the High- 
 Church party. The Low Church party, harassed at 
 Oxford and losing their ancient influence in the country, 
 disputed every inch of ground. They had laid hands on 
 the S.P.C.K. High Churchmen, as well as moderate 
 Evangelicals, resolved to rescue the management of the 
 Society from the undue control exercised over it by an 
 extreme faction. For this purpose the Archbishop of 
 Canterbury was prevailed upon in 1835 to convene a 
 meeting of the society at 23 Lincoln's Inn Fields. Eager or 
 zealous country clergymen, as their wont was in those days, 
 on critical occasions, hastened up to London, to attend, as 
 it was called, the Archbishop's meeting. The Record, the 
 
 1 "Neander was born (1789) at Gbttingen, and died 14th July 1850. The 
 first volume of Neander's great work. The History of the Christian Religion 
 and Chnrch, appeared in 1825, soon afterwards it was translated into English. 
 With Neander, theology was not as it is with too many both at home and 
 abroad, a mere profession. The purity of his daily life — his devotion to 
 Christian labour, the self-denial which was his soul's habit — proved how 
 genuinely he believed the truth of his favourite motto, that it is neither the 
 profoundest learning, nor the most vigorous intellect, nor most fervid 
 eloquence, but yicdus est quod facit theologimi — ' It is the heart which makes 
 the theologian.' " — "Neander," Biographical Treasury. In the early days of 
 the Tractarian movement Newman was often called Neander.
 
 116 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 mouthpiece of the more extreme Evangelical party, had 
 sounded the trumpet, and raised the rallying cry, " Evan- 
 gelicals to the rescue." The echo of that trumpet had 
 reached the silences and solitudes of Lavington.^ The voice 
 of the Eector's wife pleaded, perhaps for the last time — 
 for the shadow of death was already upon her — for the 
 cause and traditions so dear to her heart. 
 
 It was on the occasion of this meeting that Mr. Glad- 
 stone met Manning for the first time since their Oxford 
 days. Speaking with me January twelvemonth of Manning's 
 early days Mr. Gladstone said : — 
 
 On our leaving Oxford we naturally lost sight of each other ; 
 Manning went down into the country in chai'ge of a small parish 
 and I lived in London following political pursmts and finishing 
 my education — at least as regards foreign languages and literature. 
 It was only several years later that I met Manning by accident. 
 It was on the occasion of a great meeting in 1835 or 1836 I think, 
 called by Archbishop Howley — a revered man - — in connection 
 with the Christian Knowledge Society. The extreme section of 
 the Evangelicals had been getting too much the upper hand, and 
 the object of the meeting was to put restraint on their action. 
 I was walking with Lord Cholmondeley, a leading man among the 
 Evangelicals but not a factionist, on our way to the meeting, with 
 the view of supporting the Ai'chbishop, when, in tiu-ning out of 
 Queen Street into Lincoln's Inn Fields, we rubbed shoulders with 
 Manning. After a friendly interchange of greetings and 
 questionings, I asked Manning what had brought him, a country 
 clergyman, up to town. " To defend," was his answer, " the 
 Evangelical cause against the attempts of the Archbishop." 
 *' This shows," added Mr. Gladstone, " that Manning belonged at 
 that time to the section of the extreme Evangelicals." 
 
 In 1836-37, before definitely breaking with the Evan- 
 gelicals, Manning made some tentative approaches to the 
 great leader of the Tractarian movement, as will be set 
 
 1 Manning in those days was a regular reader of the Record. 
 
 2 Speaking of Archbishop Howley, Mr. Gladstone said : — "Though plain 
 of feature, Archbishop Howley had the most remarkable countenance I have 
 ever seen, a truly ecclesiastical, a highly spiritual countenance. You must 
 not think because ho was a friend of mine that I am unduly setting him up 
 above other men." Cardinal Manning once said to me, "Mr. Gladstone's 
 geese are all swans." This, however, had no reference to Archbishop Howley.
 
 Vll EARLY WORK 117 
 
 out at large in the correspondence given in a subsequent 
 chapter. 
 
 In the meanwhile, the Eector of Lavington kept up 
 active and friendly relations with the Evangelical party, if 
 not at Oxford, in his own Diocese of Chichester. His 
 Bishop, Dr. Maltby, out of the fulness of his ostentatious 
 zeal — for he was prone to pomp and show — for the pro- 
 pagation of the Bible in foreign parts, was anxious to 
 establish a diocesan society in aid of the Foreign Trans- 
 lation Committee of the Society for Promoting Christian 
 Knowledge. To effect this a public meeting was held in 
 December 1836, at the Council Chamber, Chichester, of 
 which Manning was .one of the secretaries. It fell to his 
 share to arrange preliminary measures, and to write circulars 
 inviting co-operation. 
 
 The fine flowing hand of Manning may be traced in 
 those passages of the circular especially in which he speaks 
 with unction " of the duty of the Church at large to bear 
 witness to the Scriptures ; and more especially of the 
 Church of England, as being the mother of many churches 
 in the colonies, and in a peculiar way the ark of the pure 
 and apostolic faith amid the various and conflicting errors 
 of the Church elsewhere." The excellence of the English 
 version of the Bible, as well as the German version of 
 Luther, is spoken of with praise ; mention is likewise made 
 of the praiseworthy results obtained in France, Italy, and 
 Spain by the translation of the Bible. 
 
 The Record of 2nd January 1837 gave a long report of 
 the meeting, saying " That the Dean, Dr. Chandler, pro- 
 posed, and the Eev. H. E. Manning, in an excellent speech, 
 seconded, the first resolution." 
 
 In those days the Record, the mouthpiece of the Evan- 
 gelical party, stiU bestowed its mild benedictions on 
 Manning, against whom, later on, it pronounced its 
 anathema. 
 
 Manning's activity was not confined to his services as 
 secretary to the Society for Propagating the Bible in 
 Foreign Parts. He was ambitious of trying his hand at 
 controversy in the press, and adroitly seized on a favourable
 
 118 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 opportunity. In the year 1836 Dr. Wiseman first made 
 his mark in England by a series of lectures delivered in St. 
 Mary's, Moorfields, on the doctrinal differences between the 
 CathoKc Church and Protestantism. These lectures were 
 widely discussed and criticised in newspapers, magazines, 
 and tracts. The Record at once fell foul of the Eoman 
 champion. Protestant prejudices were aroused. To do 
 battle with so formidable an antagonist as Dr. Wiseman 
 was Manning's opportunity. Accordingly, in an elaborate 
 article or letter in the British Magazine, under the title, 
 " Dr. Wiseman's Errors or Unfairness," he charged, among 
 other strictures, Dr. Wiseman with deliberate unfairness ; 
 for the writer of the article could not conceive it possible 
 that " Dr. W., with his high pretensions to learning, was 
 ignorant of the essential difference between the Church of 
 England and other Protestant or Dissenting bodies. The 
 assumption of the exclusive right to the name ' Catholic ' 
 for the Church of Eome, and the confounding the Church 
 of England with other Protestant bodies, was," he con- 
 tinued, " on the part of Dr. W. an unworthy controversial 
 artifice." 
 
 In entering the lists for the first time against Wiseman 
 and the Catholic Church, Manning wore his vizor down, 
 for he wrote under a nom de guerre, "A Catholic Priest." 
 But this " letter " provoked a remonstrance from his 
 intimate friend and familiar correspondent, S. F. Wood. 
 Wood, who was making a holiday excursion in Ireland, after 
 giving a graphic account of the country and people,^ wrote 
 as follows : — 
 
 Temple, Zrd Nov. 1836. 
 
 My DEAR Fkiend — 
 
 ... A letter in the last British Magazine on Wiseman, signed 
 " A Catholic Priest," has just met my eye. From its clearness and 
 ability, and from a Httle talk we had together in August, I have 
 a slight suspicion of the author. If I am right, I know he will 
 forgive and consider of thus much : — Agreeing with him most 
 fully that the AngHcan Church's idea of the rule of faith is as he 
 states, and earnestly longing for its actual development in our 
 
 ^ For S. F. Wood's account of Protestantism and the Catholic Church in 
 Ireland in 1836, see a note at the end of the volume.
 
 VII EARLY WORK 119 
 
 day, I still think, that viewing our Church as an outward historical 
 fact, looking at its tendencies and connections for the last ten or 
 twenty years, its living preachers and members. Dr. Wiseman 
 had a right as a controversialist, with his principles, etc., to group 
 it with Biblical Protestants. And that it would be more wise, 
 more humble, more truthful, and more Xtianlike to confess our 
 practical defection from our principles, and to warn and to recall 
 men to them, than hastily to tax him with unfairness. — Ever, my 
 dear Manning, your affectionate S. F. Wood. 
 
 Manning rather resented this criticism, as denying the 
 Catholicity of the Anglican Church, and, after publishing in 
 the British Magazine a second article attacking Dr. Wiseman, 
 wrote to S. F. Wood, expressing regret at his untimely 
 defence of the Eoman champion. 
 
 In reply Wood wrote as follows : — 
 
 Temple, Saturday, 2nd Dec. 1836. 
 
 My dear Friend — Not feeling the least vocation to defend 
 Dr. Wiseman, and having but a low opinion of his personal 
 truthfulness, I had much rather drop the subject altogether, but 
 your kind reply calls for a few words, and they shall be as few 
 as I can. I never denied (God forbid) the comparative 
 Catholicity of our Mother the Anglican Church, in the general, 
 and as to this very point, " the Rule of Faith," I consider her 
 notion is practically modified by her reception of the Nicene and 
 Athanasian Creeds and by her Liturgy, and as expounded by her 
 greatest Doctors, the best of any Church. But I still think there 
 is sufficient ambiguity in her own symbolical and formal exhibi- 
 tion of the rule, and quite sufficient contrariety in the expounders 
 of it, to justify an hostile controversialist, with the present temper 
 of the living Church members before his eyes, in taking (more or 
 less) Wiseman's line, and the very obvious irregularity of the 
 witnesses he calls rather proves to me, that he thought habemus 
 confitentem reum and I need not labour the point, for surely 
 if he had wished to blind he might have got up a very respect- 
 able catena on his side. Take first, §§ 1, 2, and 3 of the 
 Dissuasive, Pt. 1, B. 1 (not in one or two detached places, which 
 we owe to a more or less really Catholic 7)^0?) but in their whole 
 scope and line of argument; take Chillingworth's notorious axiom, 
 take Tilletson and Burnet and twenty other low people in high 
 places, take lastly Bishop Mant's just come out Churches of Borne 
 and England Compared, p. 12, where he distinctly lays down the 
 Bible as the Rule, and I think candour will allow this. . . .^ 
 
 ^ In the course of the above letter "Wood said, "Newman comes to town
 
 120 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 If his ecclesiastical career was prosperous and promising, 
 this period of his life brought upon Manning two domestic 
 sorrows : one, the death of his father at a ripe age ; the 
 other, the premature death, in the fulness of her young 
 life, of Caroline, his wife. 
 
 His father died on Good Friday, the l7th of April 
 1835, at his house in Lower Gower Street. In that house 
 of mourning Manning found assembled, on his arrival from 
 Laviugton, his mother and his brothers Frederick and 
 Charles, and his sisters Maria and Caroline. On the 
 morning of the funeral, 24th April, Frederick Manning says 
 in his Diary: — "We joined together around the remains 
 of our dear parent in prayer, which dear Henry was kind 
 enough to give us." John Anderdon, with his eldest son 
 William, and Colonel Austen, Manning's two brothers-in-law, 
 attended the funeral at Sundridge Church, near Combe Bank, 
 the home of his prosperous days. The funeral service was 
 performed by the Rector of Sundridge, Dr. D'Oyly, an old 
 friend of the family. William Manning was laid to rest in 
 the vault where his daughter Harriet was buried in 1826. 
 
 The following inscription was placed on the tomb of Mr. 
 William Manning : — 
 
 In a vault beneath are deposited the Remains of 
 
 WILLIAM MANNING, Esq. 
 
 Formerly of Combe Bank, in this Parish, 
 
 Born December 1st, 1763, 
 
 And in a firm reliance on the merits of his Redeemer, 
 
 Departed this life on Good Friday, April 17th, 1835. 
 
 He was forty years a Director of the Bank of England and a 
 
 Member of Parliament for nearly an equal period. His meekness, 
 
 purity, benevolence, and unwearied endeavour 
 
 For the welfare and happiness of all around him, Avill be long 
 
 remembered by an extensive circle of grateful Friends, but chiefly 
 
 by his own Family, who deeply feeling their bereavement. 
 
 Desire to record by this Tablet 
 Their reverential and pious affection for the best of Fathers. 
 
 on Monday to spend a week with R. I. Williams, and I hope to see and talk 
 with him a good deal. We are mustering stronger in town, though I suppose 
 the framework of society here must preclude one's having much iulluence 
 collectively."
 
 VII DEATH OF HIS WIFE 121 
 
 The following memorandum, as a witness of the day, 
 was written by Henry Manning on the day of his father's 
 funeral : — 
 
 My dearest Father was 71, born 1st Dec. 1764 ; Died 17th 
 April 1835, Good Friday. Buried 24th April 1835, to-day, at 
 Combe Bank. 
 
 I ■write this as a witness of this day, which has been full of 
 a complication of strange and painful and consolatory feelings. 
 "We carried him over his own former possessions, by the road he 
 made himself. May this date a new life to me and mine. 
 
 The details of to-day I will put down when less overwhelmed 
 by fatigue. 
 
 24:th April 1835. 
 
 But the sorrow of his life, of which Manning never 
 spoke to a living soul in his Anglican or his Catholic days, 
 was the death of his wife. His shy and sensitive nature 
 shrank from the expression of a grief of the heart so deep 
 and so abiding. Her death, though not unexpected, came at 
 the end almost with the suddenness of a surprise. Her 
 mother, Mrs. John Sargent, had been unremitting in her 
 attendance on, and tender care of, her dying daughter. 
 Her last words to her mother were : " Take care of Henry." 
 Mrs. John Sargent fulfilled, with all her heart, her daugh- 
 ter's last wishes. Until the death of her elder daughter, 
 the wife of Samuel Wilberforce, she " took care of Henry," 
 was his constant and watchful companion, and kept house 
 for him until she was called upon to discharge similar 
 offices of care and kindness to her elder son-in-law on the 
 death of his wife in 1841. 
 
 The sermon which Manning preached at the beloved 
 little church at Lavington on the occasion of his wife's 
 death touched every heart by its simple pathos, and still 
 more by the certitude of the high hopes which it expressed 
 of the heavenly joys that awaited the child of election in 
 the home of her Eternal Father. The touching sermon was 
 never published in full ; but large extracts from it have 
 been preserved. With the omission of the more personal 
 references, the substance of the sermon has been published 
 under the title, Thoiights for those that Mourn.
 
 122 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 The following passages, iu their tenderness and hopeful- 
 ness, indicate the sources from which Manning, in his great 
 grief, drew comfort and consolation : — 
 
 Had you not rather bear yourself all the affliction of anxiety 
 and grief which clouds a season of death ? 
 
 The hopes, fears, blights, faintings, and recoils of cold blood 
 on the overwhelmed heart, the quick step, sudden message, hasty 
 summons, the agony of lingering expectation, somebody must 
 bear, for it is appointed unto all men once to die, and you must 
 die too at the last. Would you not that they should he spared 
 all you suffer ? 
 
 Is the solitude of bereavement afflicting 1 
 
 Would you not rather endure it and let them enter into the 
 fellowship of saints and angels 1 The heavy days, long evenings, 
 leisure changed into loneliness. The sad nights and sadder days 
 when the reality of our bereavement breaks in upon us. Sleep, 
 much more dreaming, puts us back where we were, but working 
 thrusts us again into the present. 
 
 Is death terrible and its avenues rough ? 
 
 Will you not rejoice for them that they have got their trial 
 well over, and that now there remains for them no more suffering 
 and sickness, because no more sin : that the spirit is now 
 enfranchised, the body laid up for renewal ? They shall be 
 restored, not with the hollow eye and sharp severe crisis of 
 distress, but in a transfigured perfection of all that they once 
 were. Death has dominion only while we are dying. They are 
 born to a new life when the spirit passes forth. 
 
 Is it blessed to enter into rest ? 
 
 Then do you not rejoice that they have entered — ay, so soon ? 
 Would you not give way to them, and yield any greater blessing 
 to them ? And will you not rejoice that they have entered into 
 that rest at the cost of your sorrow and solitude ? This is 
 only the greatest act of self-denial you have ever been called to, 
 for their sakes. 
 
 The death of Caroline, his wife, young in years, in the 
 high tide of happiness in the natural order, was not merely 
 an earthly sorrow, but an event in the providence of God 
 which effected an entire change in the course and character 
 of Manning's life. God's designs in regard to the future of 
 His elected servant were undreamt of by him at the time, 
 which lends an additional pathos to that scene of earthly 
 sorrow.
 
 vn DEATH OF HIS WIFE 123 
 
 The happy home at Lavington, with its pleasant ways, 
 its simple joys, its tranquillity and gladness of heart and 
 deep domestic affection, which for well-nigh four years had 
 made it a paradise on earth, was turned into a house of 
 mourning, a home for ever after widowed of its earthly joys. 
 It has rarely fallen to the lot of any of the sons of man to 
 endure such a deep, abiding and unspeakable anguish of 
 heart as befell the Eector of Lavington on the death of 
 his young, sympathetic, and pure -hearted wife. In that 
 sorrowful summer and autumn of 1837, when even the 
 flowers of Lavington, which he loved so well and loved to 
 the last — for they were constantly sent to him unto the 
 end of his days as memorials of his early home — lay faded 
 at his feet, widowed of their ancient gladness. He was 
 wont, after his first anguish of heart had subsided, to sit for 
 hours, day by day, at the grave of his wife, and compose 
 his sermons,^ " The great thought," as he wrote to Newman, 
 a month or two later, " is before me night and day, but I have 
 long since become unable either to speak or write of it. . . . 
 All I can do now is to keep at work. There is a sort of rush 
 into my mind when unoccupied, I can hardly bear." 
 
 To a near relative he described it as " a sort of grapple 
 with what was crushing me." When at last he rose up 
 from that silent grave, it was with sealed heart — 
 with sealed lips — for henceforth he never more breathed 
 her name to a living being. Not even to his nearest and 
 dearest relatives in the intimacies of life did he ever once 
 allude to his wife or utter her name in joy or sorrow. He 
 was very reticent indeed, even during her lifetime. Seven or 
 eight years ago, in a conversation with Mr. Gladstone on 
 Manning's Anglican days, I happened to mention that this 
 interesting episode in his life was a sealed book, unknown 
 to all except a very few, who had a more intimate acquaint- 
 ance with the Cardinal's life, or with his few surviving 
 
 ^ Speaking some six or seven years ago with Mr. Richmond, R.A., on 
 Manning's married life at Lavington, and on the deep grief he felt at the 
 death of his wife, Mr. Richmond said : — " Yes, his grief was great and abid- 
 ing — too great for words ; he never spoke of her. I was a frequent visitor 
 at Lavington in those days of sorrow, and often found Manning seated by the 
 grave-side of his wife, composing his sermons."
 
 124 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 contemporaries. lu reply Mr. Gladstone said : " I am not 
 in the least surprised ; Manning never spoke to me about 
 his family or friends ; and, intimate as I was with him for 
 a time, he never once alluded to his wife, excepting in a 
 few lines announcing her death." 
 
 In the frequent and intimate conversations I had with 
 the Cardinal about his Anglican days, he only alluded to 
 the subject twice, and that in an indirect fashion. Once 
 he said : " You may write just as you think fit about me in 
 the ' Life ' ; I don't wish to see a page. But there is one 
 episode early in life which I wish to see in manuscript 
 before it goes to the printers." Of course that passage, I 
 knew, referred to his marriage. 
 
 On another occasion Cardinal Manning told me that he 
 had received a letter from the churchwardens, announcing 
 that the grave at Lavington was falling into decay, and 
 asking for instructions about putting and keeping it in 
 repair. " My reply was : ' It is best so ; let it be. Time 
 effaces aU things.' " 
 
 After long years, even unto the end of his life, Lavington 
 still remained green in Manning's memory, still dear to his 
 heart. But it was characteristically associated in his mind, 
 not with the days of stress and storm, but with the early 
 beginnings of his life, when the little church of Lavington 
 was his pride, his hope, and the joy of his heart ; when his 
 home, under the shelter of the Sussex Downs — " an abode 
 amid calm streams and green woody hills," of higher beauty 
 still, I may add — an abode of peace and piety, dearer far 
 to him than life, as the home for nigh upon four years of 
 the ministering angel of his heart and hearth, the copartner 
 of his joys and sorrows. 
 
 They, who have so often read the Cardinal's touching 
 description of his home at Lavington, now that the veil 
 over that hidden episode of his life — from that glad day in 
 November 1833, when he was married to Caroline Sargent, 
 to the dark day in July 1837, when he followed her to the 
 grave in Lavington Churchyard — has, with reverent hand, 
 been lifted in part, will discover in those words, now that 
 their " true inwardness " has been revealed, an additional
 
 VII DEATH OF HIS WIFE 125 
 
 and deeper pathos : " I loved , , . the little church under 
 a green hillside, where the morning and evening prayer, 
 and the music of the English Bible, for seventeen years 
 became a part of my soul. Nothing is more beautiful in 
 the natural order; and if there were no eternal world, I 
 could have made it my home." 
 
 The following lines seem to have a true and touching 
 application to widowed Lavington, and to the sword which 
 severed the natural bonds that bound Manning to a life of 
 learned leisure and earthly happiness : — 
 
 " Alas ! for Thou must learn, 
 Thou guileless One ! rough is the holy hand ; 
 Runs not the Word of Truth through every land, 
 A sword to sever and a fire to burn 1 
 
 If blessed Paul had stayed 
 
 In cot or learned shade, 
 
 With the priest's white attire. 
 
 And the Saints' tuneful choir ; 
 Men had not gnashed their teeth, nor risen to slay, 
 But Thou hadst been a heathen in thy day."^ 
 
 ^ Newman, Verses on Various Occasions, Ixxiii. ' ' Warfare, " ' ' Freely ye 
 have received ; freely give," p. 119.
 
 CHAPTEE VIII 
 
 DEVELOPMENT OF MANNING'S KELIGIOUS OPINIONS 
 
 1838 
 
 Up to the year 1838 the Eector of La\dngtoii's heart and 
 mind were devoted to pastoral work, to the teaching of the 
 poor and ignorant, to inculcating holiness of life and the 
 spirit of prayer. Outside the parish church, his voice was 
 heard at religious meetings pleading on behalf of the Bible 
 Society for Foreign Missions, or defending on public plat- 
 forms by speech or vote the Evangelical cause against the 
 encroachments or attacks of its enemies, even if headed, as 
 I have already shown, by the highest of his ecclesiastical 
 superiors. On special occasions, so highly was he esteemed 
 that he was invited by his old friend the Dean, Dr. 
 Chandler, to preach at the cathedral of Chichester. 
 
 But in the year 1838 the Tracts for the Times, which 
 for five years had kept Oxford in a ferment, were producing 
 an effect and evoking a response in the outer world, 
 iSTewman's voice reached even the seclusion of Lavington. 
 In one of his autobiographical Notes, Manning acknow- 
 ledges that, though not identifying himself with the Tract- 
 arian movement, he had at least read some of the Tracts.^ 
 When he first began to preach and teach in Sussex, 
 dogmatic religion, which it was the work and aim of the 
 Tracts for the Times to inculcate, was to Manning a 
 closed book. But now, under favouring circumstances, he 
 
 ^ This scant acknowledgment somewhat minimises the extent and nature 
 of Manning's relations — at least from 1836-40 — with Newman and the 
 Tractarian party, as a reference to letters, pp. 219-237, will show.
 
 CHAP, viii DEVELOPMENT OF HIS RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 127 
 
 began to emancipate himself from the influence of his 
 Evangelical surroundings, and from the earlier tendency of 
 his own mind towards a system of vague undefined Pietism. 
 Indeed, from his copious correspondence with S. F. Wood of 
 Oriel, the earliest and most intimate of his Oxford friends, 
 it is abundantly clear that Manning's mind was no longer 
 satisfied with the narrow and undogmatic teachings and 
 traditions of the Evangelical school, Tractarianism was " in 
 the air " ; and the electric shock of Newman's personality 
 was conveyed to Manning in his seclusion at Lavington by 
 his constant communications with S. E. Wood, once, like 
 Manning himself, an ardent Evangelical, but now a 
 disciple and an apologist, as his letters show, of the 
 Tractarian movement. 
 
 It was one of the most marked elements of Manning's 
 mind to ponder long — even for years — on the changes 
 which his religious opinions were undergoing or had under- 
 gone. In private letters, in confidential conversations, he 
 would discuss and profess changes in his religious convic- 
 tions long before he made them manifest in public speech 
 or act. Owing to this slow deliberation or prudent circum- 
 spection, it was only in 1838 that Manning passed out of 
 the slough of Evangelicalism, and incurred the anathema of 
 the Becord newspaper. 
 
 Among the first effects of the Tracts for the Times 
 was to force men, if not indeed to choose sides, at least to 
 know their own minds. The theory of dogmatic belief had 
 to be faced. The Evangelicals were up in arms; the High- 
 and-Dry Church party of the school of Hook, mistrusting 
 the tendency and spirit of Puseyism, held aloof. At Oxford, 
 the dons and heads of houses feared and hated the Tract- 
 arian movement. The dignitaries of the Church looked 
 upon Newman and his disciples as disturbers of the peace, 
 which was to them the jewel beyond price. The bishops 
 frowned upon the movement, but in the beginning held 
 their tongues, except the more extreme Evangelical bishops ; 
 or such a Bishop as Edward Maltby of Chichester, who, 
 knowing little of, and caring less for, religious principles, 
 whether High Church or Low, regarded the Established
 
 128 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 Church with pride and affection, simply and solely as 
 a State Institution.^ But, happily for Manning in that 
 day of trial and transition, the translation to Durham 
 of Edward Maltby, the first of the four Bishops of Chichester 
 under whom Manning served, removed a stumbling-block 
 from his path. It was forgotten even by Mr. Gladstone ^ 
 that the Eector of Lavington's first " Father in God " 
 was that Bishop of Durham to whom Lord John Eussell 
 addressed, in the year of the so-called " Papal Aggression," 
 his notorious " No Popery " letter, which for a while 
 set all England ablaze with the frenzy of religious 
 fanaticism. 
 
 The charge of the diocese of Chichester rested henceforth 
 on the easy sloping shoulders of a bishop of no religious 
 opinions in particular. Bishop Otter, the new bishop, was 
 described by his contemporaries as being "neither fish, 
 flesh, nor fowl," partly as a pun on his name, partly on 
 account of the vagueness of his religious views, for he was 
 neither High Church, Low Church, nor Broad. Kuled no 
 longer by a bishop of pronounced Low Church views. Manning 
 had a free hand, and made use of his opportunities to the 
 fullest. Favouring circumstances helped the young Eector 
 of Lavington onwards and upwards. He was quick in 
 discerning that the Tractarian movement was becoming a 
 power in the land. His mind was no longer satisfied with 
 the vague and undogmatic views of Evangelicalism. High 
 Church doctrines, as taught at Oxford by the Tractarians, 
 though held in a spirit of moderation, conjoined with 
 becoming reverence for the Keformers and gratitude for 
 " the blessed results " of the Reformation, approved them- 
 selves to his heart and mind. It was a great transition 
 period in the revival of religion. The hearts and souls of 
 men were being quickened into life. 
 
 1 With such a bishop Manning had no relations. As a quiet country 
 parson he kept aloof from Chichester, and wisely made no attempt to approach 
 the bishop or his palace. 
 
 2 A year or two &<^o Mr. Gladstone told mc that "Manning served under 
 three bishops — William Otter, Shuttleworth, and Gilbert — with each of 
 whom, though of different religious opinions, he was always on excellent 
 terms."
 
 Till DEVELOPMENT OF HIS RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 129 
 
 "In June 1838," writes an eye-witness of the religious 
 movement, " Hook preached on the text ' Hear the Church ' 
 before the Queen and her Court at the Chapel Royal.^ The 
 sermon set all the reading world talking, thinking, and 
 feeling too. Manning, long known as an eloquent and 
 agreeable speaker at Oxford, became now more widely 
 known as the preacher of a learned sermon at Chichester 
 on the " Eule of Faith." ^ This sermon was preached by the 
 Eector of Lavington in the cathedral of Chichester on 13 th 
 June 1838, at the primary visitation of William (Otter) 
 Bishop of Chichester. 
 
 The Rule of Faith, with its appendix and notes, 
 considerably more than thrice the length of the sermon 
 itself as originally delivered, is in every way an interesting 
 work. First of all, it is a clear and precise declaration by 
 Manning of his religious opinions ; secondly, it is his primary 
 essay in controversy. For the first, and I may say for the 
 last time, at any rate as an Anglican, Manning descends 
 into the common arena, and does battle with adversaries on 
 equal terms. He supports his theories by arguments, meets 
 objectors and their contentions face to face, challenges con- 
 tradiction and provokes controversy. Assailing now the 
 position of " popular Protestantism," now the pretensions of 
 " Eomanism," quoting the writings of those whom he attacked 
 and naming their names, he fearlessly laid himself open to 
 retort. At any rate he stung popular Protestantism to the 
 quick, and brought a hornets' nest about his ears. 
 
 The work was distinguished by the author's character- 
 istic moderation and prudence, for though avowing for the 
 first time High Church principles, he was careful not in 
 any way to commit himself to Tractarianism. He steered 
 a middle course between what was called in that day — and 
 by such a witness, for instance, as Mr. Gladstone — High- 
 and-Dry Anglicanism and Tractarianism. Hook, who repre- 
 sented the High-and-Dry Anglicans, pleased no one ; he 
 ofiended popular Protestantism, and perhaps still more by 
 
 ^ Hook's sermon gave great offence to the Queen. S. Wilbei'force, in his 
 Diary, says, "The Queen at once drew the curtain of her pew." 
 "^ Thomas Mozley's Reminiscences of Oriel, vol. i. p. 446. 
 VOL, I K
 
 130 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 his shallowness, his half-heartedness, and time-serving spirit, 
 the Tractarian party. Unlike Hook, IManning, by the 
 earnestness and deeper religious zeal which he displayed, 
 gained the confidence and esteem of the Tractarian leaders, 
 and was even invited by Newman to write for the British 
 Critic. It was indeed a time of such searching conflict and 
 controversy that men who aspired to take a leading part in 
 the struggles of the Church were forced, in order to obtain 
 a hearing, to define their position, or at any rate to show 
 their colours. Unlike the writers for the Tracts for the 
 Times and the British Critic, Manning still retained a 
 great reverence for the reformers. At the very moment 
 when Newman and Pusey and Keble were refusing to 
 countenance the memorial which was being got up by the 
 Low Church Party at Oxford in honour of Latimer, Cranmer, 
 and Kidley,^ Manning, in the Bule of Faith pronounces a 
 blessing on Cranmer ,2 and speaks of " his pretended degrada- 
 tion," and cites him " as foremost in rank, and second to 
 none in experience among many witnesses," to show " that 
 the rule of faith, Scripture and antiquity, or Scripture and 
 the creed, attested by universal tradition, is the recognised 
 principle of the Reformed Church of England, and also of 
 the Church of primitive times. Cranmer and Ridley and 
 Latimer, Manning puts on a line, as witnesses to the faith, 
 with the fathers of the Primitive Church. The gist of 
 Manning's profession of faith is the acceptance of the rule 
 laid down by Bishop Ridley at his last examination. After 
 referring to the wise counsel of Vincentius Lerinensis that 
 " when one part (of the Church) is corrupted with heresies, 
 then prefer the whole world before that part ; but if the 
 greatest part be infected, then prefer antiquity," Ridley 
 goes on as follows : — 
 
 ^ In one of his letters, S. Wilberforce said, "I have been urging in vain 
 Newman and Pusey to subscribe a small sum to the testimonial." 
 
 Again, in a letter to Charles Anderson, "I am very sorry that Newman 
 and Pusey set themselves against it. It was just the opportunity they ought 
 to have seized for doing away some of the evil of dear Froude's book ; but 
 they are bent on their own way." — Life of Bishop Wilberforce, vol. i. p. 130. 
 
 2 "All the good I know of Cranmer is that he burnt well." — Hurrell 
 Frotide.
 
 vin DEVELOPMENT OF HIS RELIGIOUS OriNIONS 131 
 
 In like sort now when I perceive the greatest part of 
 Christianity to be infected with the poison of the see of Rome, I 
 repair to the usage of the Primitive Church, which I find clean 
 contrary to the pope's decrees, as in that the priest receiveth 
 alone, that it is made unlawful to the laity to receive in both kinds, 
 and such like, wherefore it requireth, that I prefer the antiquity 
 of the Primitive Church before the novelty of the Church of 
 Rome." 1 
 
 To this profession of faith, Manning's sermon and 
 appendix is a long-drawn-out amen. 
 
 Between the delivery of the Rule of Faith and its publica- 
 tion with appendix and notes, which convert an ordinary 
 learned sermon into a controversial treatise of special 
 interest, an article had appeared in the Dublin Review^ 
 criticising and challenging the position taken up by Keble 
 and other Tractarian leaders on the subject of private 
 judgment, and Article VI. of the Thirty-Nine Articles. This 
 Review, an able Catholic quarterly, published in London, 
 was the organ of Dr. Wiseman, the foremost champion 
 of the Catholic cause in those days of eager controversy. 
 Full of sympathy with the Tractarian movement and 
 characteristically hopeful of its results, he watched and 
 criticised every step, every position taken up by the 
 Tractarian writers. 
 
 This Catholic criticism in the Dublin Review of Keble's 
 sermon, attacking the position taken up by Anglicans, as 
 representing the faith of the Primitive Church, incidentally 
 assailed and upset Manning's theory of the identity between 
 the rule of faith in the Reformed Church of England 
 and in the Primitive Church. Thus challenged by Dr. 
 Wiseman and the Dublin Review, Manning buckled on his 
 armour and entered for the first time publicly into the 
 arena of controversy. 
 
 After having established to his own satisfaction the 
 identity between the rule of faith distinctly recognised by the 
 English Church, and that of the Primitive Church, the author 
 goes on to confirm his proposition " by considering two 
 fallacious rules, which have been, in later ages, adopted by 
 
 1 Ridley's Life, pp. 613, 614. 2 jujy jgss.
 
 132 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 the Church ; both, therefore, modern, and condemned as 
 novel, by universal tradition : I mean the rule of the Eoman 
 Church ; and the rule that is held by all Protestant bodies, 
 except the British and American Churches. The former 
 may, for distinctness, be called the Roman, and the latter 
 from its extreme novelty the New." ^ 
 
 Manning then deduces " from a work in great repute 
 among the Eoman Catholics in this country," ^ the following 
 propositions : — 
 
 1. That there is a living judge of interpretations, guided by 
 an inspiration the same in kind vnih. that which dictated the 
 Holy Scriptures. 
 
 2. That the rule by which the judge shall proceed, is " what 
 was anciently received." 
 
 3. That some points of helief Avhich, if it means anything 
 more than the sixth Article of the Church of England, must 
 mean of necessary faith, were not committed to writing in Holy 
 Scripture, but rest on wal tradition alone. 
 
 Acting on this rule, the Church of E,ome, at the Council of 
 Trent, added to the Nicene or Constantinopolitan creed many 
 doctrines which cannot be proved from Holy Scripture ; e.g. 
 transubstantiation, purgatory, invocation of saints, veneration of 
 images, indulgences. 
 
 4. A profession of this faith she requires as necessary for 
 communion. 
 
 Manning, then, having defined the Eoman Eule,^ 
 contrasts it with the Catholic [Anglican] in this way : 
 
 The Church of Eome asserts that oral tradition is a sufficient 
 proof of points of necessary belief. 
 
 The Church of England, that Scripture is the only sufficient 
 proof of necessary faith. 
 
 The Church of Eome says, that the doctrinal articles added 
 to Pope Pius's creed, may be proved from Scripture, but need 
 not. 
 
 The Church of England, that they ought to be proved from 
 Scripture, but cannot. 
 
 The Church of Eome maintains that they are binding, 
 because they are Apostolical traditions. 
 
 * Rule of Faith, Appendix, p. 81. 
 
 2 Berington and Kirk, Faith of [Roman] Catholics, p. 100. 
 
 * Rule of Faith, Appendi.T, p. 83.
 
 viii DEVELOPMENT OF HIS RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 133 
 
 The Church of England denies that they are Apostolical 
 traditions, in as much as they will not stand the Catholic test ; not 
 being primitive, nor have they even been universal, nor held with 
 consent of all Churches. 
 
 The Eector of Lavington then defines what he calls the 
 " new rule," the rule of faith of popular Protestantism, 
 and contrasts it with the Anglican as follows : — 
 
 The other fallacious rule is as follows : 
 
 That Holy Scripture needs no interpreter, but is plain to 
 all. 
 
 But this is felt to be so evidently untenable, that it is 
 generally stated in this form : 
 
 That the Holy Spirit, which dictated the Scripture, noAv 
 guides all who seek the truth into a right understanding of it. 
 
 Now here is exactly the same fallacy as in the Roman rule 
 above given. The Church of England carefully distinguishes 
 between the immediate guidance of inspiration, and that guidance 
 which leads men through the means God has ordained for the 
 conveyance of truth. 
 
 After contrasting the two fallacious rules of faith with 
 the true [the Anglican], he says : — 
 
 But we must go on to a still more instructive topic, namely, 
 the close agreement of these two principles, notwithstanding 
 their seeming irreconcilable opposition. 
 
 In the following six points they closely agree : — 
 
 1. Both exalt the living judge or interpreter above the 
 written rule. 
 
 2. Both claim a special guidance. 
 
 3. Both argue a priori. 
 
 4. Both oppose antiquity and universal tradition. And, as 
 a natural consequence of all these, 
 
 5. Both introduce new doctrines. 
 
 6. Both, in eflFect, undermine the foundation of faith. ^ 
 
 The Rector of Lavington having thus summoned the 
 Evangelical party and the Catholic Church before the 
 bar of his own infallible judgment, passes sentence alike on 
 the Evangelical party, which he had just left, and on the 
 Catholic Church to whose tribunal in after years he sub- 
 mitted his mind and wUl. 
 
 1 JRule of Faith, pp. 84, 85.
 
 134 CARDINAL I\IANNIXG CHAP. 
 
 Both the Roman and the new rule exalt the living judge or 
 interpreter above the written rule. That this is so, many 
 decrees of councils and popes will sufficiently prove. We 
 need not quote the profane sayings of bygone controversy, 
 expressing in too homely a way the malleableness of Scripture 
 in the hands of the living Church. The maxim Scripturie 
 sequuntur Eccledam is enough. They have been made to 
 follow the living Church with too ductile a pliancy. For it is 
 plain that the meaning of a mute document, if it is tied to 
 follow the utterance of a living voice, which shall claim the 
 supreme right of interpretation, must vary with its living 
 expositor. And in this lies the real danger of the Roman 
 doctrine of infallibility.^ 
 
 Manning then quotes and makes his own long passages 
 from Chillingworth, in which that apostate priest describes 
 " the pope as the real enemy of Christ, who under the pretence 
 of interpreting the law of Christ, doth in many parts 
 evacuate and dissolve it ; so dethroning Christ from his 
 dominion over men's consciences, and instead of Christ 
 setting up himself" " 
 
 On this Manning remarks : 
 
 Although this investing of the pope with infallibility is the 
 Italian doctrine, the Gallican and British Romanists placing it in 
 the Chiu-ch assembled in council, I have quoted the whole 
 passage for a twofold reason. First, because it is equally 
 applicable to the interpretation of the living Church in council ; 
 and secondly, because, in the rashness of controversy, this 
 passage, levelled against the infallibility of the living judge, 
 whether pope or Church, is turned against the very ground on 
 which Chillingworth stood when he wrote it, i.e. piimitive and 
 universal tradition.^ 
 
 Manning then contends that antiquity was sacrificed by 
 modern Protestants, in order to establish the right of 
 private judgment, and that the rejection of universal 
 tradition has led to schism and Socinianism, but that the 
 Church of England, reviving ;it the Reformation the rule 
 of faith of the Primitive Church, resists both Calvinism and 
 Romanism by appeal to universal tradition. 
 
 ^ Rule of Faith, Appendix, p. 86. 
 
 2 Chillingworth, vol. i. pp. 11, 12, 13. 
 
 ' Rule of Faith, Appendix, p. 87.
 
 VIII DEVELOPMENT OF HIS RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 135 
 
 In this controversial appendix to a learned sermon, it is 
 curious and interesting to note that the future Cardinal 
 Archbishop of Westminster, one of the most active fathers 
 of a council convoked to define the dogma of Papal Infalli- 
 bility, speaks, as Eector of Lavington, his first word on " the 
 Eoman doctrine of the infallibility of the pope." Between 
 the preacher on the Anglican rule of faith in Chichester 
 Cathedral in 1838, and the father of the Vatican Council 
 in 1870, what a gulf; what a difference between his first 
 word on papal infallibility and his last ! 
 
 That the publication of the Rule of Faith excited not 
 only wide-spread interest, but no little criticism, there is 
 abundant evidence. The sermon itself gave great offence to 
 the Low Church clergy of Chichester, who naturally were 
 Manning's chief friends. For five years they had looked 
 upon him as one of themselves ; for had he not followed 
 reverentially and lovingly in the footsteps of his predecessor 
 the Eev. John Sargent? The declaration of religious principles 
 contained in the Rule of Faith came upon them like a 
 surprise. The Eector of Lavington was attacked in print 
 and at public meetings.^ Still worse, complaint was laid 
 against him with the bishop. Bishop Otter had no 
 sympathy with the Evangelicals, quite the contrary; nor, 
 indeed, with the Tractarians ; what he valued most was 
 peace, and the quiet dignity of an Established Church. 
 His first and natural impulse was an attempt to induce 
 Manning to keep the peace, and offer for charity sake his 
 cheek to the smiter. To this end, in the hope of stopping 
 the pubhcation of a controversial Appendix, Bishop Otter 
 wrote as follows : — 
 
 My dear Mr. Manning — Since I wrote to you last I have 
 reflected somewhat more upon the state of mind which has been 
 produced amongst us by the incipient controversy, and I cannot 
 but think that, unless you are quite convinced that your Appen- 
 
 1 In an autobiograpMcal Note, referring to the period 1837, Cardinal 
 Manning says : — "When in 1837 (1838 ?), at the next visitation, I preached 
 on tradition or the rule of faith, I was attacked by a clergyman named 
 Davies. But he had many of the so-called Evangelicals behind him. I 
 defended it in an appendix. From that time they gave me up."
 
 136 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 dix is very important under some large view, you had better 
 reserve it for some more convenient season. You have yourself 
 taken much pains to bring the Evangelical party in this part of 
 the diocese into a more harmonious co-operation with the rest, 
 and with good effect. Are Ave (sic) not now undoing this good, 
 and that, too, without necessity ? Some allowance is to be made 
 to persons situated as they are, and have been. And the peace 
 of the Church is of much more advantage than any advance 
 even to a good cause, which can only be attained at the expense 
 of peace. I say this under a fear that, be as cautious as you 
 may, you will find it difficult to avoid saying something that 
 excited minds may take ofifence at. I throw this out hastily 
 for your consideration ; for after all, you may have weightier 
 reasons in your mind for proceeding. I have seen Mr. Herbert 
 and Mr. Davies respecting the meeting — they will come — besides 
 these Grible and others. I am sincerely anxious for your own 
 health, which requires tranquillity. Try to consider this, for 
 there are many who estimate your services at a high price. — 
 Yours sincerely, W. Chichester. 
 
 P.S. — I hear you are going to preach two sermons on Sunday. 
 You are doing too much. Will you come here to luncheon at 
 2 P.M., and to sleep ? 
 
 Manning succeeded in persuading the bishop that it 
 was best to let things take their course. The Appendix 
 was published. The controversy in Chichester broke out 
 afresh.^ Its writer had made up his mind to break with 
 his old friends the Evangelicals, perhaps on the axiom — I 
 tremble lest I should be thought profane or frivolous — " It 
 is well to be off with the old love before you are on with 
 the new." 
 
 It was Manning's invariable habit, early and late in life, 
 to distribute among his friends and to send to men of 
 repute in letters or politics his sermons or tracts. To those 
 who were more intimate with him, or whom he wished to 
 attract or conciliate, he often sent his proof-sheets. He 
 accordingly sent his sermon, Bute of Faith, before it had 
 been enriched by " Notes " and " Appendix," to Newman, 
 
 ^ The Eule of Faith and the Appendix were fiercely attacked by Mr. 
 Bowdler. He published a book exposing Manning's "errors " as a " betrayal 
 of Gospel truth." The "sermon was bad enough, but tlie Appendix was 
 abominable."
 
 VIII DEVELOPMENT OF HIS RELICxIOUS OPINIONS 137 
 
 who acknowledged the gift as follows in a letter dated 9 th 
 August 1838. 
 
 I like your sermon (It. of F.), and thank you for the sight of 
 it. The part about the creeds, p. 33, seems to me particularly 
 useful. It was much wanted. Are you quite safe in the note 
 on p. 282 ? If the canon of Scripture was formed, as you say, 
 in the second century, how could the Roman Church doubt of 
 the Epistle to the Hebrews up to Jerome's time, and the Greeks 
 of the fourth century keep a most pregnant silence as regards 
 the Apocalypse ? . . . I see you have adopted the old style ; it 
 takes off somewhat from perspicuity, though it is fuller. 
 
 Two months or so later Manning sent the Appendix 
 or postscript to the Bule of Faith in proof-sheets to Newman. 
 In reply Newman writes : — 
 
 HuRSLET, 24:th October 1838. 
 (I go back on the 26tli. ) 
 
 I return through G. and R. the two first sheets of your post- 
 script. The beginning is rather hard, e.g. I do not see how 
 Paley's Evidences have to do with the the "rule of faith," in 
 any sense in which the words are or can fairly be used, i.e. I do 
 not see the meaning or drift of calling " the grounds and proofs 
 of revelation " the rule of faith. Nor do I think it subserves 
 the part of exhausting the divisions of the subject which seems 
 to have led to your noticing it. Again, I think this obscure. 
 [Another passage marked.] 
 
 Bating this objection in the outset, I think all that follows 
 very good ; the twenty objections are valuable and happy, par- 
 ticularly the last, and the whole is clearly and well worked out. 
 As to Chillingworth, I should consider him a shuffler ; but I do 
 not see why we should not use the better sayings of shufflers 
 against their worse. It was a homage they paid to truth, and 
 both exposes them and stultifies their admirers — two worthy 
 ends. 
 
 In a letter undated Keble also writes as follows : — 
 
 My dear Mr. Manning — I am much obliged by your sending 
 me the sheets of your pamphlet, which I have read with great 
 interest, and think most seasonable both in matter and spirit. 
 The few remarks Avhich have occurred to me you will find on 
 the other side. ... I shall wait with great interest for your 
 Appendix. I hoj^e I am right in gathering from your note that 
 the Bishop of Chichester has no dislike to yoar views.
 
 138 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 If his own bishop, for peace and quiet sake, viewed with 
 some concern and misgiving the development of Manning's 
 rehgious opinions, the Bishop of Chester, a man of sterner 
 stuff and of decided Evangelical views, lost no time in con- 
 demning the Rule of Faith and Appendix. S. W. Trower 
 (afterwards Canon, then Bishop of Gibraltar), an intimate 
 friend of Manning's, and, as will appear later on, a confidant 
 of Samuel Wilberforce, in a letter dated 26 th December 
 1838, writes as follows: — 
 
 My DEAR Manning — The Bishop of Chester, I am sorry to 
 hear, is pubhshing a diatribe against you. You will smile at 
 my saying against you. What a world of strife we live in ! 
 
 To a man of peace and goodwill towards all men, like 
 Manning, it must needs have seemed strange to be attacked, 
 and, above all, by a bishop. To be accused of falling from 
 Gospel truth by the Record might be met with a smile ; 
 but to be hauled over the coals by a bishop was no laughing 
 matter to the peace- and bishop-loving Eector of Lavington. 
 Having been requested by Manning before starting for 
 Eome to report how his pamphlet had been received, 
 Trower could not well avoid sending him the rough with 
 the smooth. In the following passage he gives his own 
 criticism : — 
 
 I was thinking the other day of writing to you and beginning 
 my letter by inquiring what was become of your Appendix, when 
 the door opened and in it came. I have read the last part aloud 
 to the ladies, and was not disappointed in my expectations of 
 finding there very pithy reading. I cannot tell you how en- 
 tirely I agi'ee with you, nor was my fair audience, I hope, 
 wholly impersuaded — albeit not the most persuadable part of 
 creation. I cannot, however, report the opinion of others on 
 the work, having seen no one since it was out. There is an 
 opinion often expressed of your style, and I own, me judice, with 
 some correctness, that it is obscure in many passages. It is 
 said that the impressiveness of your manner in preaching carries 
 it off, but when read it is found less correctly Avritten than had 
 been supposed. For my own part, while I confess that I allow 
 some truth in this, I only wonder how you could have written 
 in such a hurry, so correctly and so logically.
 
 VIII DEVELOPMENT OF HIS RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 139 
 
 J. W. Trower relates in this letter an amusing story 
 about some of the Chichester Evangelicals and Manning's 
 sermon : — 
 
 I could not but smile, even in the midst of that most melan- 
 choly matter, at breaking in once or twice on a conclave to 
 which Barhut appeared to have been descanting on a theme of 
 no little interest, to judge from his flushed cheek and eager 
 manner ; I only caught the words, ' They say it is all verbiage,' 
 or something like them, but watched with much amusement his 
 eyes stealing up from under their lids at me whenever he gave 
 utterance to any of his crudities. 
 
 Speaking of a clergyman of this school, who " had just 
 lost his wife under very sad circumstances," Trower says : — 
 
 Poor James, none, I am sure, will feel for him more truly 
 than yourself. . . . Spoke to me to-day much of your kindness 
 in allowing his visiting an outlying part of yoiu* parish. 
 
 Manning, it should seem, in those early days was more 
 tolerant than later in allowing a dissenting interloper or 
 ecclesiastical " poacher " into his parish. 
 
 Even three years and more after the publication of 
 Manning's first controversial treatise, Samuel Wilberforce 
 wrote to Miss M. S. Elliott in answer to her as to his views 
 on Manning's book, the following letter : — 
 
 I8th May 1842. 
 
 I believe the Bible and the Bible only to be the rule of faith; 
 and I believe that to bring this strongly and sharply out is a 
 matter of the greatest moment. I think the whole school of 
 the Tract- writers fail here ; that they speak, and seem to love to 
 speak, ambiguously of the necessity of tradition, and the tendency 
 of all which (even if they do not mean what is positively erron- 
 eous) must be, I think, and is (1) to lead men to undervalue 
 God's Word (a tendency on which I enlarged in one of my 
 Oxford sermons) ; (2) to lead men to regard the Romish view 
 of tradition without suspicion and dread. 
 
 Now, to these objections I do honestly think some of my 
 dear brother-in-law's statements are exposed, and I could not, 
 therefore, have written as he has done ; but when I have talked 
 with him I have found it difficult to fix him to any meaning 
 beyond what all Churchmen hold.^ 
 
 ^ In S. Wilberforce's Diary is a letter dated 7th December 1838 to Charles
 
 140 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 Manning, it should seem, stood at that time somewhat 
 in awe of his catechising archidiaconal brother-in-law. 
 
 In these days when the spirit of Erastianism prevailed 
 in high places, not only in the State but in the Church, 
 the creation of the Ecclesiastical Commission in 1 8 3 8 raised 
 a most determined opposition, not only on the part of the 
 Tractarian leaders, but of the bishops and cathedral digni- 
 taries. The royal commission, appointed by the Govern- 
 ment to inquire into and report on Ecclesiastical property, 
 was naturally denounced on the one side by Newman, 
 Pusey, Keble, and others, "as a claim on the part of the 
 civil power of supreme " ownership and administration ; 
 whilst it was opposed with even greater warmth, on the other, 
 by the bishops and cathedral authorities, touched in their 
 tenderest point. The approval given by the Archbishop of 
 Canterbury (Howley) to the Eoyal Commission only added 
 fuel to the fire. The Tractarians held him up as a terrible 
 example of the Erastian spirit which prevailed in the high 
 places of the Church, whilst the bishops looked upon him as a 
 betrayer, instead of being the highest guardian, as he ought 
 to have been, of ecclesiastical property. What the appoint- 
 ment, two years before, of Dr. Hampden as Eegius Professor 
 had failed to effect, was brought about by the appointment 
 of the royal commission ; the bishops no longer reclined 
 inert on their episcopal thrones, but sprang to their feet 
 like one man in defence, if not of the faith, of the property 
 of the Church. Perhaps the most energetic, most active, 
 and certainly the most persistent of the opponents of the 
 Church Commission in the House of Peers was Bishop 
 Otter of Chichester, Manning's own bishop. His constant 
 attendance at the House of Lords in opposition to the 
 measure, especially in the year 1840, when he was in weak 
 health, accelerated his death. 
 
 With the aid of his old friend, Dean Chandler, Manning, 
 
 Anderson, in which the following passage occurs, " Henry Manning is gone 
 to Rome for the winter : the Bishop of London wickedly says he thought he 
 had been there ever since publishing his last volume of sermons." Manning's 
 last volume was the Eule of Faith. Bishop Blomfield must have been 
 morbidly alive to such apprehensions if he could detect any "Romanising" 
 tendencies in that sermon of Manning's.
 
 VIII DEVELOPMENT OF HIS RELIGIOUS OPINIONS Ul 
 
 under such favouring circumstances succeeded in setting up 
 friendly relations with his bishop in spite of the fact that 
 they had little or nothing in common in their religious 
 opinions. But now a bond of union and work in common 
 brought them together — resistance to the encroachments 
 and usurpations of the civil power. To this congenial 
 work Manning, henceforth and to the close of his Anglican 
 life, devoted himself heart and soul. To free the Church of 
 England from the bondage of the State was the desire of 
 his heart, the end and aim of all his public labours. If 
 the motive which roused Bishop Otter and his Episcopal 
 brethren to action, was love for the temporalities of the 
 Church, Manning was inspired by the far higher and purer 
 motive of safeguarding its spiritualities. Another advantage 
 then had presented itself, another opportunity which he 
 was quick to make use of: in opposing the Ecclesiastical 
 Commission he was, on the one hand, following the lead of 
 Newman and co-operating with the Tractarian party at 
 Oxford ; whilst, on the other, he was carrying out the work 
 on which his own bishop had set his heart, and acting 
 in common with almost all the bishops and dignitaries of 
 the Church. 
 
 His active opposition to the Ecclesiastical Commission 
 brought the name of the Eector of Lavington for the first 
 time into public notice ; it earned for him the regard and 
 approbation of the bishops and cathedral authorities on the 
 one part, and of Newman and the Tractarian party on the 
 other. It was an uncommon event and of happy omen to 
 be spoken well of by the British Critic at Oxford, and to 
 receive in London the benign blessings of the Record. 
 
 Manning's first step in those prolific days of tract-writing 
 was to write and publish a tract entitled TJie Principle of 
 the Ecclesiastical Commission examined in a Letter to the 
 Bishop of Chichester, 1838. The next step was to send his 
 little book to bishops, deans, archdeacons, to peers, members 
 of the House of Commons, as weU as to Newman and 
 Pusey and the leading Tractarians. In acknowledgment, 
 Newman, in a letter dated Oriel, 12th January 1838, 
 writes as follows : —
 
 142 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 My DEAR Manning — I like your pamphlet much, and so does 
 Pusey, and trust and believe it will be useful. I have nothing 
 to find fault ^vith, but a few grammatical and other points which 
 I have marked. 
 
 After stating that in the next number of the British 
 Critic Pusey is to write a strong article on the Church 
 Commission, Newman goes on : — 
 
 By the bye, I rely on your article too, on Justin Martyr, 
 It must be ready by the end of February at latest. 
 
 N.B. — I see no notes to your pamphlet, except one or two 
 shabby little ones at the foot of the page. I cannot read what 
 you say about Misopapisticus — who, and where is he?i — Ever 
 yours affectionately, J. H. NE^^^^IAN. 
 
 P.S. — Why don't you date your letter 1 - 
 
 Manning's pamphlet was a success. It was a stout 
 defence of the right of the Church to the independent 
 control of its own affairs, spiritualities as well as tempor- 
 alities. Had it even been known that the Eector of 
 Lavington was in close correspondence with Newman, and 
 a writer in the British Critic, abhorred alike by Evangelicals 
 and by bishops, what bishop so bigoted as not to condone 
 the offence, when he turned a grateful ear to Manning, 
 exalting in his " letter " not only his own bishop, but the 
 whole Episcopal Body in the following glowing terms : — 
 
 In our minds, your lordship is not only one of the Apo- 
 stolical Body to whose united wisdom and equal authority the 
 Church in this land is, by a divine commission, put in charge, 
 but also the sole consecrated ruler and guardian of the Church, 
 and diocese to which we belong. Our bishop is to us the source 
 of authority, and the centre of unity in order, deliberation, and 
 discipline. In his suffrage our assent and dissent is \artually 
 expressed. We believe that no power, spiritual or ecclesiastical, 
 excepting only collective authority of the whole Episcopal Order, 
 to which supreme jiurisdiction all bishops are severally subject, 
 
 ^ A violent anti-Catholic and anti-Tractarian pamphlet under the name 
 of Misopapinticus was published in 1838 by Scely, the Low Church publisher, 
 
 - The pernicious habit of sending undated letters was very common at the 
 above period, for of the hundreds of letters which I have had to read or 
 decipher, the vast majority with the exception of Newman's were either 
 wholly or in part undated.
 
 VIII DEVELOPMENT OF HIS RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 143 
 
 can reach us, unless it pass through his express permission. Your 
 lordship is therefore both the natural protector of our privileges, 
 and the natural depository of our fears. 
 
 He adds, what was undoubtedly true, that : — 
 
 We have been told that the greater proportion of the clergy 
 are in favour of the commission ; that they have expressed their 
 consent by their silence ; that the cathedral bodies indeed as 
 persons interested oppose, but that the parochial clergy tacitly 
 approve the recommendation of the Ecclesiastical Commission. 
 
 Again the Evangelicals would not take amiss from 
 Manning's lips many passages of stately and ornate diction, 
 written for their edification. The following is significant : — 
 
 We have once well seen the corruption of the Church in 
 discipline and faith from the supremacy of the Roman patriarch. 
 We have now another supremacy to beware of. The two 
 swords have passed from the pope to the king, from the king 
 to the people. The next patriarch of the English Church will 
 be Parliament, and on its vote will hang our orders, mission, 
 discipline, and faith ; and the pontificate of Parliament is but 
 the modern voluntary principle in disguise. 
 
 In another passage, Manning appeals directly to the 
 principles taught and upheld by the Tractarians. 
 
 Better far to undergo another exile from our hearths and 
 altars, to wear out in patient waiting the long delays of another 
 twelve years' oppression, than to yield for peace or policy one 
 tittle of Apostolical Order. 
 
 For two years the Rector of Lavington aided his bishop ; 
 was in constant communication with him as to the steps to 
 be taken in the House of Lords in organising opposition to the 
 Ecclesiastical Commission. Such a state of things naturally 
 led to Manning's being a not infrequent visitor at the 
 bishop's palace at Chichester. 
 
 The clergy of the diocese of Chichester were in due 
 course invited to meet at the two archdeaconries, Lewes 
 and Chichester, to present addresses against the Ecclesiastical 
 Commission to the Archbishop of Canterbury. The Ven. 
 C. Webber, Archdeacon of Chichester, was too old and 
 infirm, or was thought to be so, for the special work in
 
 144 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 hand. Dean Chandler, with the clergy of the archdeaconry, 
 met to choose in the consistory of the cathedral a proctor 
 for Convocation. Manning had drawn up an address to the 
 archbishop. He read it to the assembled clergy ; it was 
 accepted unanimously, and Manning was elected as proctor 
 and instructed to present it to Convocation. 
 
 Speaking of the presentation, Manning, in one of his 
 Notes, says : — 
 
 In the Convocation we had a hot debate. I said what I had 
 wi'itten ; and I heard a voice say, "1525." It was Sydney 
 Smith in a corner invoking Henry VIII. But he really agreed 
 with what I said, and joined afterwards publicly and did not 
 much like it. 
 
 The Tractarians were taking active steps to defeat the 
 object of the Ecclesiastical Commission by insisting, in their 
 own uncompromising fashion, on the restoration of the 
 right of the clergy to meet and confer upon the affairs of 
 the Church as in old times. In this view a petition was 
 projected in the form of an amendment to the address of 
 the two Houses of Convocation to be presented to the Crown 
 on the occasion of Queen Victoria's accession to the throne. 
 Manning, hearing that a petition of this kind was in circula- 
 tion, wrote to Keble expressing a wish to see it. In reply, 
 Keble, in a letter dated Hursley, 11th December 1837, 
 wrote as follows : — 
 
 My DEAR Mr. Manning — I find I have the foul copy of the 
 paper you wished to see, which I have accordingly sent you by 
 a friend who is going to Oxford. You will see that it is rather 
 a stretch of words to represent that which is in circulation as 
 being in any sense my production. Perhaps you will disapprove 
 of the proposed address leaving it doubtful who the proper organs 
 of the Church are. The reason of our doing so was the certainty 
 of creating endless discussions and losing many signatures, 
 whether the bishops in Synod or Convocation were specified, 
 and I like to fancy the Queen on reading the address inquiring 
 who are the proper organs, and receiving from the bishop Avho 
 should present it, a full and true statement. But I am told that 
 in fact no address comes near her. 
 
 Pray remember me kindly to Newman, Pusey, Harrison,
 
 vm DEVELOPMENT OF HIS RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 145 
 
 Copeland, Williams and Co. Wilson and I are very anxious to 
 know what is to be done with the British Critic. I am, dear 
 Mr. Manning, most truly yours, j^ Keble.^ 
 
 In his Reminiscences of Oriel, the Eev. Thomas Mozley, 
 Eector of Cholderton near Salisbury, who was putting about 
 a form of amendment to the address to the effect of making 
 Convocation a reality, says : — 
 
 Among others to whom I sent the proposed amendment 
 was Manning, who had lately become a widower, and was said 
 to be entering warmly into the coming struggle for the in- 
 dependence of the Church. 
 
 To this appeal for his co-operation in the proposal to 
 make Convocation a reality instead of being " a pure piece 
 of lumber dragged out one day and dragged back into its 
 closet the next," ^ Manning wrote as follows : — 
 
 My dear Mozley — I have been many times at the point of 
 writing to you to thank you for your letter, and the draft of 
 the amendment, and also to ask you to consider whether a 
 somewhat different line would not more surely attain our 
 purpose ; and that is to move your amendment, substituting 
 for the prayer of licence to debate in Convocation, either a 
 petition that no measure of the Ecclesiastical Commission should 
 be laid before Parliament until it shall have received the assent 
 of the Church in a council of the province, or offering both 
 this and your proposal as an alternative, of which without 
 doubt, if either, the provincial council would be most favourably 
 received. Perhaps the expressed alternative of Convocation 
 might have a very good effect in that way. 
 
 The reasons for suggesting this are : — 
 
 1. That Convocation probably contains three parties. One 
 against all change ; the second hot for Convocation ; the third 
 against Convocation but anxious for some active measure. The 
 two last, if combined, will be a majority ; if disunited, altogether 
 defeated. I cannot say decidedly that I could vote for your 
 amendment as it stands. For the alternative I could ; and so 
 would the Convocation men. 
 
 2. The bishops would to a man resist your proposal, but a 
 
 ^ This letter of Keble's shows that Manning was already in 1837 entering 
 upon friendly relations with the Tractarian party. 
 ^ Reminiscences of Oriel, vol. i. p. 426. 
 VOL. I ^
 
 146 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 larger number would vote for a provincial council ; probably 
 all who are so opposed to the Commission ; and in this Avay the 
 amendment would probably pass both Houses, and for once 
 unite them. 
 
 3. However, many laymen in and out of Parliament are 
 ready to support a measure to obtain the consent of the Chui'ch, 
 and to restore some canonical council, but not Convocation. 
 These are some of the reasons why I believe the amendment, as 
 it stands, would be both defeated in Convocation and un- 
 palatable out of it. I write in great haste ; pray let me hear 
 how it strikes you, and what is doing in your diocese. In our 
 archdeaconry the address is going very successfully — forty-five 
 replies and only five refusals, and that in about a fortnight. 
 It is also in circulation through the proctor in the other arch- 
 deaconry (Lewes) and I know of some approvals. — Believe me, 
 my dear Mozley, yours very sincerely, ^ jj. Manning. 
 
 P.S. — Do you know Mr. Strutt, who married the Bishop of 
 Chichester's daughter ? Tell me if you know anything of his 
 religious opinions. 
 
 Festival op All Saints. 
 
 The line of argument pursued by Manning in his reply 
 to Mozley 's proposition about Convocation, is in accord 
 with Keble's views as expressed, two or three months 
 previously, in the following letter : — 
 
 HuRSLET, 25th September 1837. 
 
 My dear Mr. Manning — I palliate to myself my indolence 
 in not sooner replying to your interesting letter by two con- 
 siderations : — 1. I have not yet received your promised proof- 
 sheet of a petition. 2. It was only yesterday that I was able 
 to find the number of Blanco White's Review, which I send with 
 this. I fear you will hardly find much in it ; but it struck me 
 from memory as a curious admission on the part of so lax a 
 churchman of the anomaly and inequity of our present ecclesi- 
 astical government. Yoiu: plan of operations appears to me 
 at once decided and prudent, and I do not know that I can 
 suggest anything to improve on it. One thing which I especially 
 like is the way in which you have steered clear of anything like 
 a request for the opening of Convocation. I fear that in some 
 other quarters there has not been so much reserve. Mozley (of 
 Oriel), I understand, has prevailed on one of the Wiltshire 
 proctors to pledge himself to move an amendment to the 
 Address, to the same effect as your petition to the archbishop.
 
 vni DEVELOPMENT OF HIS RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 147 
 
 Would it not be well to communicate with some one in that 
 quarter as soon as your address is fixed on, and try if you can 
 get them to shape their proceedings accordingly ? I shall do 
 what I can with Vaux, who is one of the Winchester proctors. 
 He showed me the Act the other day, by which it appeared 
 that the real veto on discussion, if any, rests with the arch- 
 bishop in consequence of his prerogative of proroguing the 
 Upper House, which is understood to imply a prorogation of 
 the Lower House also. The Act itself referring only to legis- 
 lation. This renders it the more desirable to render the 
 archbishop thoroughly aware that we do not want to have 
 Convocation let loose if it can be helped. Mozley had no wish 
 of that kind, but it would not occur to him how to proceed 
 otherwise. — Yours ever most sincerely, T. Keble. 
 
 On being made one of the Eural Deans in 1837, 
 Manning made an opportunity to signalise his advent by 
 moving a resolution at a meeting of the Eural Deans at 
 Chichester to appoint a small correspondence committee 
 to consider the following proposition : — That all Church 
 matters ought to be administered by the Church alone, i.e. 
 by bishops, clergy, king, and laity in communion with the 
 Church. 
 
 In the busy year 1838, whilst the leading young men 
 of the High Church party, S. F. Wood, Thomas Acland, 
 W. E. Gladstone, Matheson and others, were actively 
 engaged in London in resisting the attempts of the State 
 in favour of a national system of secular education. 
 Manning was co-operating with them in Chichester in 
 defence of the religious education of the people. In a 
 sermon preached in Chichester Cathedral, 31st May 1838, 
 Manning vigorously denounced the contentions of the 
 irreligious party — the Eadicals and Secularists of that day 
 — that the secular education of the people should be carried 
 on by the State, whilst the teaching of religion might be 
 cared for out of school by the clergy of the Church of 
 England and Dissenting ministers. Against the godless 
 system of education Manning from first to last was the 
 most consistent and uncompromising opponent. He said of 
 himself that he was not naturally attracted to the question 
 of education, but it was imposed upon him as a duty by
 
 us CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 Bishop Otter. How well he fulfilled this duty the history 
 of his life shows.^ The first word which he spoke in favour 
 of national education being based on religion, was this 
 sermon delivered in 1838. In order to meet the public 
 need, caused by the growth of population — " a new popula- 
 tion of millions for whom we have no education," he 
 contended that cathedral institutions should be utilised ; a 
 superior class of teachers provided, and the zeal of the 
 clergy awakened anew until, " with the Universities for the 
 keystone of the arch and the parochial schools for the 
 basis," the Church would be enabled to provide for the 
 religious education of the people. From this sermon, the 
 following characteristic passage will suffice : — 
 
 There is but one law for all men, whatsoever may be their 
 after-part in the great spectacle of life, in the pomp of courts 
 and parliaments, in crowded cities or in lonely hamlets, high 
 born or low, lettered or unlettered, ruling or obeying, lu-ging 
 on the advances of science or plying some unheeded craft, for 
 all men of all ranks, characters, and destinies. There is one 
 and only one great idea running through all, the first aim and 
 ground-work of education, the vital element and perfecter of the 
 whole work, and that is the right determination of the will, 
 confirmed by the formation of Christian habits, for God's service 
 here and for salvation hereafter. 
 
 On the 9 th of November S. F. Wood wrote to Manning 
 as follows: — 
 
 What has become of your education sermon ? We are going 
 to issue a circular to our local boards, pressing upon them 
 the importance of bringing in the middle class to the Church, 
 and this will be the time to send round your sermon if it is 
 ready. 
 
 In another passage he writes — 
 
 Pray tell me soon, my dear Manning, how you ai'e, for I 
 feel very uneasy at some things people have said about you.^ 
 
 ^ On two occasions, however, in 1849 as an Anglican, and in 1871 as a 
 Catholic, Manning made default, at any rate in a timely or efficient defence 
 against the encroachments of the civil power on the rights of religious 
 education. 
 
 '^ Manning's state of health at that time caused much anxiety among his 
 friends.
 
 VIII DEVELOPMENT OF HIS RELIGIOUS OriNIONS 149 
 
 With his friends, S. F. Wood, T. Acland, Matheson, and 
 Mr. Gladstone, who were labouring so zealously in the 
 work of estabHshing diocesan boards in connection with 
 the " National Society," Manning was in constant com- 
 munication.^ His friend, S. F. Wood, in a letter dated 
 "Temple, St. Mark's Day," presumably in the year 1838, 
 says : — 
 
 Carissime — As to your Sermon: what may well and pro- 
 perly be said in it will depend so much on the result of our 
 conference with the " National Society " on Saturday, that I will 
 suspend any remark till we meet. 
 
 He then explains to Manning the plan and principles on 
 which he and Matheson are working in establishing diocesan 
 boards and asks Manning's co-operation : — 
 
 Diocesan seminaries and a central college are our key-notes : 
 the former to be closely connected with the cathedral and its 
 officers, and to be the sole academy for ordinary masters. But 
 a few of the ablest and most deserving should come to the 
 central college to complete their education and fit them for the 
 higher situations : the cathedrals and others, to found exhibitions 
 to maintain them while in term at little expense, and in a 
 monastic mode of life. The college to be, if possible, a branch 
 of King's College. Rose is inclined to favour this. 
 
 Then I have a further private notion that all these superior 
 masters might be in deacons' orders, so providing one element 
 for a permanent diaconate. How much better it would be, e.g. 
 at Christ Church (Dodsworth's), for him to have an older man 
 stationary, acting, in fact, as the curate, and supervising the 
 school, than smart young prigs from Oxford, who are going off 
 continually, as soon as they have vented their inexperience on 
 the district. 
 
 If you thought this a good basis to build upon, get me up a 
 working plan of it by Monday : considering the objections and 
 difficulties and furnishing a solution of them. — Yours afi'ec- 
 tionately, g, p. Wood. 
 
 In a letter, undated, presumably a few days later, Wood 
 
 1 In a letter to Charles Anderson, dated 7th December 1838, Samuel 
 Wilberforce says : — ' ' We are very busy at Oxford ordering a diocesan board 
 for national education after the notions of Acland, Wood, Gladstone, and all 
 that party of young men who have been moving on that subject in London." 
 Life of Bishop Wilberforce.
 
 150 CARDINAL MANNING chaf. 
 
 tells Manning that " The National Society have gulped our 
 whole plan, accepted our services, and we are formed 
 (together with certain members of the N. S. and chapter 
 clergy, viz. your dean and Drs. Spry and Butler) into a 
 committee of inquiry and correspondence to carry out our 
 plans." He then promises to send Manning a lithographed 
 statement, meant to interest influential persons in what they 
 had done and were doing. 
 
 In another letter, dated 8th February 1839, addressed to 
 Manning in Eome, S. F. Wood says : — 
 
 As to education, since I last wrote, there have been great 
 meetings at Lichfield and Warrington, to form boards for 
 Lichfield and Chester dioceses ; at the former, Peel, at the latter 
 Stanley, spoke ; the last with brilliant eloquence. Chichester 
 meets to form a board to-morrow. We have issued our appeal 
 for funds for the central establishment, and in a few days have 
 got about £300 in donations, and £200 annual : the nobility 
 have as yet not been applied to, and I am sanguine of our 
 getting enough to begin. The Archbishop of Canterbury has 
 given a donation of £200 and £100 annual to his own diocesan 
 board. . . . Please tell Matheson all this if you see him, with 
 my afi'ectionate regards. . . } 
 
 The fourth Keport of the Church Commissioners is to be 
 made into a bill. 
 
 In his gossiping style S. F. Wood tells Manning that, 
 " Bunsen says that Gladstone's book has given a standing 
 place whereon to form a Church party in the House of 
 Commons ; he is delighted with the book itself, and has sent 
 it to be translated for the Crown Prince of Prussia. I met 
 him at breakfast at Acland's, and was much struck with 
 his mental energy, and hearty affectionateness ; he has a noble 
 head and countenance. He has been at Oxford, and is 
 drawing nearer towards our friends there ; still he is and 
 will be plerU Teutonicus. . . . Study hard at your Deutsch." 
 
 The establishment of colleges in connection with the 
 diocesan boards for training candidates for orders was to 
 be the crown of the work. The chief difficulty which Wood 
 and his friends had to encounter, after securing a suitable 
 
 ^ Matheson, suffering from consumption, was in Rome.
 
 VIII DEVELOPMENT OF HIS RELIGIOUS OPINIONS 151 
 
 candidate as principal of the training college, was to obtain 
 the bishop's assent to his nomination. In reference to this 
 difficulty at Chichester, Newman, in a letter to Manning, 
 dated Oriel, 6th March, 1838, says: — 
 
 "Your College scheme seems good. As to a head to it, 
 Pusey suggests Ward, the Bishop of Sodor and Man's son — which 
 I do not much fancy, as I told him. I suggested Seager, which 
 he seems to think plausible. He also suggests your Dean himself, 
 if you can trust him — What say you to this? It would be a 
 means of studying cathedrals." 
 
 The candidate eventually selected, and after many 
 months' hesitation accepted by Bishop Otter, was the Rev. 
 Charles Marriott.^ He was warmly supported by the Tract- 
 arians. Manning acted wisely, and with his usual pru- 
 dence, in decKning to tie himself down to such an office. 
 
 In recognition of his services in the cause of education 
 and of his aid in establishing diocesan boards, Bishop Otter 
 appointed Manning secretary to the Diocesan Board of 
 Chichester. This appointment brought him not only into 
 closer personal relations with the bishop, but gave the 
 Eector of Lavington a public position among the clergy of 
 the diocese.^ 
 
 ^ In a letter to Manning about this date, S. F. Wood says : — "I have long 
 had you in my mind's eye for our first principal." 
 
 2 Speaking of the foundation of the Diocesan College for Holy Orders in 
 Chichester, Cardinal Manning, in one of his journals, said :— " It was the first 
 that was founded. Wilts claimed precedence, but I think we were first. 
 Bishop Otter was strongly in its favour, his successor against it ; Charles 
 Marriott of Oriel was the first principal. The first £50 given to me to begin 
 it was from W. E. Gladstone.
 
 CHAPTEK IX 
 
 manning's active WOKK ITS SUCCESS AND REWARD 
 
 1839-1840 
 
 Bishop Otter's anxiety about Manning's health was not 
 unwarranted. In August, and again in September, he had 
 suffered from severe attacks of asthma, which had left him 
 very weak ; and, as winter approached, he was ordered by 
 his doctor to go to the south of Europe. He was one of a 
 little party of invalids destined to spend the winter of 
 1838-39 in Eome. His intimate friend, Benjamin Harri- 
 son, afterwards archdeacon, writes, in a letter to Manning, 
 dated " Christchurch, Oxford, 5th November 1838: — I 
 hope Marriott has not been ' reckoning,' as they say, ' without 
 his host,' or the captain of his party in asking my brother 
 to join it. I know well he could not out-reckon you in 
 kindness in such a proposal, but he may have out-reckoned 
 the conveniences and possibilities of things." 
 
 Harrison also suggested " that Gladstone would be 
 returning from Rome for the meeting of Parliament, besides 
 the chance of Marriott's coming back, so that, supposing 
 there were any reason for his brother's not continuing 
 abroad, there would be an opportunity of his returning 
 in good hands." In the same letter Harrison acknowledges 
 a parcel of proof-sheets (the appendix), which Manning had 
 sent him for revision. 
 
 Mrs. Harrison, the archdeacon's widow, speaks to - day 
 with the liveliest gratitude of the devoted care and kind- 
 ness which Manning had shown at Rome to her husband's 
 younger brother, an invalid, who soon afterwards died of
 
 CHAP. IX HIS ACTIVE WORK— ITS SUCCESS AND REWARD 153 
 
 consumption. Another friend, John Pearson of Balliol, 
 gives the names of several of their common friends going 
 to spend the winter at Eome ; among them, John Deffell, 
 Manning's old schoolmate of Harrow, " suffering," as Pear- 
 son wrote, " for some time from heart complaint." Miss 
 Deffell, also suffering from a heart complaint of another 
 kind and character, fortunately, perhaps, did not accompany 
 her brother to Eome that winter. 
 Newman writes : — 
 
 My dear Manning, I add to Marriott's letter a brief note 
 to say : — First, how I rejoice you are going abroad ; next, how 
 I envy yom^ going to Rome ; thirdly, how I hope you will 
 thoroughly convert Rose whom you will meet there. 
 
 And again, writing from Oriel in festo S. Car. 1838, is 
 this message : — 
 
 And now vive valeque, my dear Manning, as wishes and 
 prays yours affectionately, John H. Newman. 
 
 With the well -wishes and prayers of many friends. 
 Manning, seeking shelter in the south from the cold and 
 fog of an English November, departs on his first visit to 
 Rome — the first of some twenty visits. Wood begged him 
 to take " notes," especially of religious matters in Rome ; but 
 the new fire was not yet kindled in Manning's heart in 
 regard to Catholic faith or Catholic worship or religious 
 observances. In a letter written a few years after this 
 visit to Rome, he expressly declared that, far from attract- 
 ing him, Roman devotions and practices were actually 
 repugnant to his mind and heart. He visited, indeed, the 
 churches of Rome ; admired St. Peter's with a critical eye ; 
 and, with severe but just taste, condemned the music in the 
 churches — not in St. Peter's only — as offending against 
 ecclesiastical propriety and devotional feeling. It was in 
 his heart to be a reformer of church music in Rome. If 
 this purifying fire was kindled in the green wood, it died 
 out, strange to say, in the dry ; for Manning, when in after- 
 life he became Cardinal Archbishop of Westminster, 
 tolerated in some of the best known of his churches —
 
 154 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 thougli in all he banished women from the choir — the 
 most secular and operatic of music. 
 
 In Eome, Manning met Mr. Gladstone and Sir Stephen 
 Glynne, whom, one of his friends in a letter reminded him 
 he might have seen at Christchurch, Oxford, and the two 
 Miss Glynnes, as well as Lord Lyttelton, Mr. Eichmond, 
 a frequent visitor in Manning's married days at Lavington, 
 was at that time studying art in Eome ; and the famous 
 painter to-day remembers well acting the grateful part of 
 cicerone to his, even at that early day, not undistinguished 
 friends. Mr. Gladstone, he tells me, manifested a keen, 
 eager, and discerning curiosity in the ancient grandeurs and 
 glories of Eome, papal and pagan ; whilst Manning 
 exhibited a lively interest in primitive Christian art, and 
 was a warm admirer of Gothic architecture — not, indeed, of 
 the bastard Gothic of Eome, but of that purer style to be 
 found in such glorious profusion in the northern cities of 
 Italy. " On one occasion," Mr. Eichmond said, " Manning 
 told me that his mind had been formed by the study of 
 Dante and of Christian art in Italy." Manning and Mr. 
 Gladstone passed many an hour in the young painter's 
 studio in Eome ; on one occasion Mr. Gladstone commis- 
 sioned him to copy a famous painting for a church in 
 England, but on learning the figure it would come to, the 
 future Chancellor of the Exchequer demurred, and the com- 
 mission fell through ; though, as Mr. Eichmond explains, 
 the price would have barely covered the expense of staying 
 in Eome and keeping on his studio two months longer than 
 he had intended. 
 
 At the time of their visit to Eome in 1838, both 
 ]\Ianning and Mr. Gladstone spoke Italian fairly well ; but 
 even during his second prolonged stay at Eome, ten years 
 later, Cardinal Manning once said, in allusion to that time, 
 " When I was in a passion — one of the ' Berserker rages ' 
 — I used to break out into French, but, later on, I learnt 
 to be angry in Italian." Both men improved their 
 familiarity with the language by attending sermons. " Ask 
 Gladstone," the Cardinal once said, whether he remembers 
 standing side by side with me in the Church of S. Luigi
 
 IX HIS ACTIVE WORK— ITS SUCCESS AND REWARD 155 
 
 dei Francesi, listening to the sermon of a Dominican friar, 
 and saying to me, ' Such preachers we want at home — 
 eloquent and impassioned, yet singularly dogmatic in their 
 teachings.'" This incident Mr. Gladstone remembered 
 well. "Ask the Cardinal," he said in retort, " if he 
 remembers how, when we were walking together one Sun- 
 day morning in the Piazza dei Fiore, he rebuked me for 
 buying apples on a Sunday. The Cardinal Archbishop," 
 he added with a smile, " is, I fancy, far more tolerant than 
 the straitlaced parson of that day." 
 
 Mr. Kichmond says that what always struck him most 
 in Manning were, " grace of mind and grace of manner." 
 " He was in those days," added the great painter — to whose 
 singular skill we owe the fine portrait on the frontispiece 
 of this volume — " strikingly handsome, and as graceful as 
 a stag in every movement and motion." In speaking of 
 this remark to Cardinal Manning, he said, with a humorous 
 smile, " It only shows what nonsense clever men will some- 
 times talk." 
 
 It was in Eome, during the winter of 1838, that 
 Manning met Dr. Wiseman for the first time. The great 
 champion of the Church, the author of those controversial 
 lectures, which made no little stir in 1836, had not the 
 faintest idea that the young Protestant Rector of Lavingtou, 
 who in company with Mr. Gladstone paid him a visit at 
 the English College, had two years before, writing under 
 the pseudonym " A Catholic Priest," publicly impugned the 
 veracity of the great Catholic controversialist. Had he 
 even known it, Wiseman was by far too large-hearted a man 
 to have remembered against Manning his youthful fliippancy. 
 
 In an autobiographical Note Cardinal Manning 
 related that — 
 
 On St. Thomas of Canterbury's Day in 1838, Gladstone and 
 I called on Mgr. Wiseman as Rector of the English College. 
 The capella cardinalizia was going to begin. He sent for a 
 student to take us into the chapel. It was Thomas Grant, 
 afterwards Bishop of Southwark. We stood together under the 
 Avindow on the court side of the chapel behind the cardinals. 
 
 On St. Agnes Day 1839, Mgr. Wiseman and I walked out
 
 15G CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 to see the lambs blessed at S. Agnese fuori le Mure. He was 
 not even a bishop. How little we thought that he and I should 
 have the two first palliums in a new hierarchy of England. 
 
 Cardinal Manning perhaps did not remember what 
 impression Mgr. Wiseman of 1838 had made upon Mr. 
 Gladstone and himself ; for surely, otherwise, he would not 
 have failed to put on record " the figure of the man " with 
 whom in after - life he was so closely associated — his 
 illustrious predecessor in the See of Westminster. 
 
 Mr. Gladstone and his party, fortunately not, like 
 Manning, invalided, left Eome long before he did. Mr. 
 Eichmond soon followed them to England. 
 
 Manning was never idle ; never lost an opportunity of 
 adding to his store of knowledge, or of attaining such arts 
 and acquirements as might be most serviceable to him in 
 life. In this view, during his leisure time in Eome he 
 improved his knowledge of French by taking lessons from 
 an apostate French priest, who had left France, married and 
 set up in Eome as teacher of French. Manning appears to 
 have taken special interest in this apostate priest ; to have 
 initiated him into the mysteries of " Anglo - Catholic prin- 
 ciples " ; and even to have invited him to Lavington. 
 In the following year, the too -confiding rector appealed 
 to Newman to provide, if possible, a home or some work 
 at Oxford for his precious convert ; in whose stability 
 as a " converted Galilean," Manning, in spite of his 
 friendly feelings, showed no very great confidence. In 
 bringing back from Eome, as a legacy of his first visit, 
 an apostate priest, the over - zealous rector too soon dis- 
 covered that he had brought a white elephant to Lavington. 
 His attempt to shift his burden on to Newman's shoulders 
 at Oxford, met with no favourable response ; for Sydney 
 Smith's warning that " the pope throws his weeds over our 
 garden wall," was too fresh to be neglected. 
 
 Manning's description of his " converted Galilean " is 
 too racy and too true of the whole tribe of apostate priests, 
 who want to be provided for in the Church of England, to 
 be passed over. 
 
 Manning's letter to Newman is as follows : —
 
 IX HIS ACTIVE WORK— ITS SUCCESS AND REWARD 157 
 
 Lavington, 12th August 1839. 
 
 My dear Newman — If I had not something better to 
 write about, I should give you a rare scolding for not writing 
 to tell me how you prosper. I daresay you will be shameless 
 enough to retort this objurgation ; but, be that as it may. 
 
 I write to you to put a matter for your considera- 
 tion. M. , a priest of the Galilean Church, after 
 
 going through the usual course of incredulity, left France, 
 married, and went to Rome ; lived there eight years as 
 teacher of French ; has worked his way back to a Christian 
 belief, and by the help of our prayer book, etc., to an avowed 
 rejection of Romanism and confession of Anglo -Catholic prin- 
 ciples. He is a converted Gallican. On this profession the 
 Bishop of London has received him into the Church and recog- 
 nised his orders. He is anxious to study and feels his want of 
 it, has right and promising dispositions of mind, is tractable 
 by those that have his confidence. His abilities are consider- 
 able. He is capable of being disgusted and unsettled by 
 injudicious or improper treatment at this moment, and capable 
 also of being disciplined and formed into a good and useful man. 
 Is earnest for work. 
 
 He has an ofiFer as French teacher to a school, the master of 
 which is a "Christian " — small salary, worry, no time for his own 
 studies (on which he is extremely bent), and likely to get a 
 false and mischievous idea of the Anglican doctrine — and I am 
 endeavouring to find a home and some work for him at 
 Chichester, but have small hope. Is such a thing possible at 
 Oxford ? He could not want much to live upon, as he is very 
 careful. Pray consider this, and if you can send me Marriott's 
 present direction by return of post I will write to him. He 
 
 knows M. well, and I knew him all the time I was at 
 
 Rome. He has been with me here, and I think very well of 
 him and hope much — but fear too — not only for him but for the 
 Bishop of London, and her the bishop represents. I have 
 written openly about him, but confidentially in several points, 
 so pray oblige me by not communicating all except to such as 
 you trust. . . , 
 
 I have been meaning to write to you, but you will not 
 measure my real and heartfelt friendship by this silence. — 
 Believe me, my dear Newman, ever yours affectionately, 
 
 H. E. Manning. 
 
 In the following letter to his brother Frederick, the 
 Rector of Lavington describes his journey to Rome and his
 
 158 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 first impressions of the Eternal City, But, in writing to his 
 grave elder brother, Manning seems — and not in this letter 
 only — rather stiff and formal, as if he was writing under 
 restraint : — 
 
 Rome, 23rd December 1838. 
 
 My dear Frederick — It is full time to redeem my pledge 
 that I would write to you from Rome. I hope you have not 
 thought me slack in not ^VTiting to you before to thank you for 
 your affectionate letter. I trust you have by this time recovered 
 altogether the effects of yoiu* accident. You will believe that 
 I am unfeignedly thankful that you were so mercifully saved, 
 and spared to us all. 
 
 I have had no letter (except one from Christopher Words- 
 worth) since I left England. 
 
 Our journey to Rome was very prosperous. We did it in 
 twenty-five days, spending two at Paris and the Sundays at 
 Breteuil, Chalons, Nice, Civita Vecchia, and sleeping in our beds 
 every night. 
 
 I hope to see Rome thoroughly. In fact I care more to see 
 Rome completely than all other places. The city as a whole 
 quite fulfils my anticipations, except only that the hills are not, 
 or do not appear sufficiently marked to satisfy one's classical 
 notions of the site. I have seen the Vatican several times with 
 increased pleasure. The small collection of pictures (they are 
 only thirty-five) is richer than anything I have ever seen. 
 There is one by Perugino of the Madonna and Child on a 
 throne and four saints standing by, which in execution is 
 wonderful. I have seen St. Peter's twice. The outside dis- 
 appointed me, and I do not get over it. The facade is heavy 
 and hinders the dome's being seen, but the inside is beyond 
 anything one can imagine ; I cannot, however, admit even its 
 splendid interior into a comparison with the Gothic of the North 
 of Europe. Stone and stained glass seemed to me capable of 
 an effect far beyond marble and gilding. Although I confess, 
 I do not know where to find any building as a whole sufficiently 
 perfect in its kind to be a fair sample. 
 
 I find here a good many people I know, and among them 
 Gladstone, which is a great pleasure to me ; he will stay another 
 month. 
 
 The new French Bishop of Algiers is here for his consecration. 
 I have heard him preach nearly every day last week in the 
 church of S. Luigi dei Francesi ; and very fair his sermons 
 have been. The last very good. He seems a thoroughly 
 earnest and good man. Nothing can exceed the unfitness of
 
 IX HIS ACTIVE WORK— ITS SUCCESS AND REWARD 159 
 
 the music at that church. (I believe it is the same everywhere.) 
 It is in the modern Italian style, often beautiful, but light and 
 out of all keeping with the place and purpose. 
 
 Gladstone and I found by the Tiber to-day, at two o'clock, 
 ice two inches thick, not in the river but in the ruts by the 
 side. The weather is beautiful, but cold. — Believe me, my 
 dearest Frederick, your most affectionate brother, H. E. M. 
 
 Manning returned from his winter's sojourn in Eome, 
 refreshed in body and mind, eager to take up again the 
 dropped threads of his numerous schemes and plans for the 
 advancement of Christian education and for the defence of 
 the independence of the Anglican Church, of its rights and 
 property, against the encroachments and usurpations, as he 
 used to regard them, of the civil power. He had not yet 
 learnt, like Pusey and Keble, to draw a distinction between 
 the Church and the Establishment ; or to stand aside and 
 leave the Establishment to its fate.^ 
 
 On returning once more to his home, to widowed 
 Lavington, Manning's grief was renewed ; for though he 
 never spoke a word to a living soul of his abiding sorrow, 
 yet it was now, as in the long years to come, ever in his 
 heart like a living presence. 
 
 On the second anniversary of his wife's death in 1839, 
 on visiting the room ever held sacred to her memory, it 
 was beyond his power to master the outward signs and 
 tokens of his exceeding great grief. 
 
 In a letter to her eldest daughter, the wife of Samuel 
 Wilberforce, Mrs. John Sargent, the mother of Manning's 
 wife, wrote on the occasion as follows : — 
 
 This has been a week of much painful feeling to dear 
 Henry, and he has wished to spend it exclusively in religious 
 exercises and in his parish. On Wednesday we went soon after 
 breakfast to the shepherd, and dearest Henry administered the 
 sacrament to him and Mrs. Graysmark, and Mrs. Reeves and me. 
 He then shut himself up in his room, and after some hours 
 he called me to give me some memorials for which I had once 
 asked. He was in quite an agony of tears, and only in the 
 evening appeared, in the calmest state of mind, and we had 
 
 ^ In a letter of Keble's to Pusey such an opinion was expressed.
 
 160 CARDINAL MANNING ohap. 
 
 service in the church as the Eve of St. James.^ Yesterday we 
 had two sei'vices ; in tlie morning here, evening at Graff ham, 
 and two nice little lectures ; as we were going into the church 
 Henry said, " My dear friend Gladstone is just now going to be 
 married " ; and upon my saying something of the strange 
 difTerences in the lot of those we love, he said in the most 
 plaintive voice : " Yes, but it all leads to the same blessed 
 end." 
 
 In order to seek distraction or relief from the effects of 
 this overmastering sorrow, the widower of Lavington had 
 two years ago devoted himself to incessant work of a nature 
 to absorb his thoughts and take up all his time. He never 
 allowed his mind to dwell on the memory of the past 
 except in direct acts of devotion at church or still more at 
 home. Manning was no recluse or scholar, finding deb'ght 
 in contemplation or in abstruse or profound speculations, 
 but a man of action. In active work, therefore, he passed 
 his busy life. The first impulse which drove him to seek 
 distraction in work soon became a habit, which, added to 
 his native energies, both of mind and body, made him what 
 he was to the end of his life — a man never happy unless 
 absorbed from brain to finger-tips in work. The work he 
 loved best at Lavington was to promote the honour and 
 glory of the Church he loved so well ; to reform abuses 
 and amend the ways of men ; to cultivate the good will of 
 his brother clergy in Chichester; to be on good terms with 
 the dignitaries of the Church, and to stand well with his 
 bishop. It was not in the nature of the Eector of 
 Lavington to be content with ineffectual desires ; what he 
 greatly desired he took infinite pains to bring about; he 
 studied the means as well as the end, and followed them 
 up with indomitable patience and perseverance. It was 
 this method or habit of mind which, humanly speaking, 
 was the secret of his success in life. 
 
 If, on the one side, the secretary of the Diocesan Board 
 of Chichester was an active and, if so be, an ambitious 
 churchman, busy, like Martha, about many things ; on the 
 other, the pious and loving pastor of his flock, like Mary, 
 
 ' St. James's Eve was the day of Mrs. Manning's death.
 
 IX HIS ACTIVE WORK— ITS SUCCESS AND REWARD 161 
 
 as it were, anointed the feet of the Christ in staunchiua 
 the moral wounds and assuaging the material sufferings of 
 the rustics and shepherds of Lavington. Manning's zeal 
 for the spiritual instruction and weKare, his sympathy with 
 the wants and afflictions, of these day-labourers, whose toil 
 was unbroken all the year through, from dawn to dusk, 
 and whose lives were unbrightened by a ray of joy, or even 
 of hope, may be traced in the kindly words of hope and 
 comfort he addressed to them in a series of homely lectures 
 delivered at this date (I7th September 1840) at the little 
 chapel of Graffham, about two miles from Lavington. 
 
 A few passages from these simple lectures — printed as a 
 tract and circulated by a tract society — will suffice to 
 show Manning's early acquaintance with the agricultural 
 labourers, among whom he lived and worked, his knowledge 
 of their failings and of their good qualities : — 
 
 Time must be redeemed for the poor man. The world is too 
 hard upon him and makes him pay too heavy a tale out of his 
 short Hfe. Except Sunday and one or two other days — such 
 as Christmas Day, Good Friday, and Ascension Day,^ which 
 through Christian kindness of many landlords and farmers in 
 this neighbourhood, has of late, without loss of wages, been 
 given to their labourers — our poor have no days of relaxation 
 for body and mind. 
 
 Those who have lived as it is our blessing to do among the 
 agricultural poor will know that with some rudeness of address 
 and with faults not to be denied, they are still a noble-hearted 
 race, whose sincerity, simplicity, and patience we should buy 
 cheap at the cost of our refinements. But little is needed to 
 make their holiday. The green fields and tools idle for a day, 
 the church bell, an active game, simple fare, the sport of their 
 children, the kindly presence and patient ear of superiors, is 
 enough to make a village festival.^ 
 
 In another lecture, The Daily Service, a subject dear to 
 his heart from the time he first came to Lavington, Manning 
 
 ^ "When I first worked in Sussex," Cardinal Manning once told me, 
 "Ascension Day was observed nowhere in England." 
 
 2 In a note in a later publication (1845), on Lord John Manners's (now 
 Duke of Rutland) letter pleading for a national holiday, Manning said, " It 
 exhibits a happy example of true English benevolence, and of that highest 
 nobleness, a lowly and loving care for the poor of Christ's flock." 
 
 VOL. I M
 
 162 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 dwelt with simple eloquence on the beauty and benefit of 
 morning and evening prayer. In the following passage 
 he strikes a higher note : — 
 
 It is a remarkable and instructive fact, that, while the 
 Catholic Churches in the east and the west, from the beginning 
 to this hour, had retained their daily service, they had — in the 
 midst of whatever corruptions in doctrine and practice may 
 otherwise be alleged against them — nevertheless retained also a 
 visible and conscious unity ; while certain portions of the Western 
 Church, which in the last three centuries have abandoned the 
 daily service, have lost their visible and conscious unity. They 
 broke the bond and trampled under foot the symbol of unity, 
 which is perpetual, visible worship. And the end of this we 
 see. Unity departed first, and truth followed speedily. The 
 daily sacrifice Avas taken away, and they were broken up ; and 
 churches fell into fragments — into congregations, ever changing, 
 ever resolving themselves into new forms. 
 
 The Rector of Lavington had a great horror of dissent 
 and dissenters and their multiplying schisms, " fragments " 
 of the Church of England, " congregations ever changing." 
 
 If the loving and careful pastor of his flock did not 
 spare himself in the service of the rustics and shepherds of 
 Lavington and GraS'ham, neither was the zealous church- 
 man idle in the service of his bishop, defending in 
 Chichester capitular institutions and property threatened 
 with suppression and confiscation by what Henry Wilber- 
 force called " The Sacrilege Bill." 
 
 As in 1838 Manning wrote a letter addressed to his 
 bishop against the appointment by Government of the 
 Ecclesiastical Commission, so now, in 1840, he was busy 
 in preparing another letter to the Bishop of Chichester, as 
 well as in drafting a petition to the House of Lords, on the 
 Bill for the Suppression of Prebendal Stalls. 
 
 In preparing this pamphlet he sought the aid of his 
 archdeacon, the Ven. Charles Webber, in the following 
 
 letter : — 
 
 Lavington, 5th July 1840. 
 
 My dear Auchdeacon — I write a line after my day's work 
 to ask of you a favour. I have on me the caco'ethes pamphletandi, 
 and for the throwing out of the disease I want to know (1)
 
 IX HIS ACTIVE WORK— ITS SUCCESS AXD REWARD 1G3 
 
 How many clergy signed your cathedral petition ? (2) How 
 many clergy there are in the archdeaconry 1 and also to have a 
 copy of the petition, or at least the last paragraph. 
 
 Would 3^ou kindly send mc, as speedily as possible, what you 
 can in aid of this. — And always believe me, yours very sincerely, 
 
 H. E. Manning. 
 
 In a letter to Archdeacon Hare, Manning wrote : — 
 
 Your letter has been forwarded to me in this Maelstrom ; 
 and I send you, as I promised yesterday, a draft which I beg 
 you to castigate. ... I wish I had more time to draw up the 
 " Petition." All I could do was to try to get in the strongest 
 reasons. Let me hear next week what you propose and 
 advise. . . . 
 
 Keally the line taken by the archbishop and the Bishop of 
 London about the cathedrals is incomprehensible. . . . 
 
 I revolve my great soul in my bosom about Episcopacy till 
 I can come, as Hobbes says, to handstrokes with you. — Yours 
 most sincerely, H. E. Manning. 
 
 In the Petition to " The Lords Spiritual and Temporal 
 assembled in Parliament," drawn up by Manning, the last 
 clause is characteristically chivalrous and disinterested. 
 After declaring, among other things, the duty of maintaining 
 at the cathedral city a body of tried and experienced 
 clergy, to whom the various diocesan offices may be en- 
 trusted, and of attaching to the mother church a certain 
 number of the parocliial clergy, thereby giving unity to the 
 whole of the second order of the clergy at the episcopal 
 see, the petition ends with the following heroic clause : — 
 
 That, if finally the alienation of all revenues except such as 
 are reserved for the offices of a dean and four canons in each 
 cathedral severally, should be resolved, that all the stalls, 
 residentiary and non-residentiary, and all existing dignities 
 without any revenue or emolument be still preserved, that their 
 functions may be freely and gratuitously discharged for high 
 moral and spiritual welfare of the Church. 
 
 The tract in defence of prebendal stalls, addressed in 
 the form of a " letter " to the Bishop of Chichester, con- 
 ceived in a like lofty spirit, insisted on the right of the 
 Church to manage without let or hindrance its own ecclesi-
 
 164 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 astical affairs, and resented with force and spirit State 
 interference with capitular institutions and cathedral 
 property. The Eector of Lavington received the following 
 letter of commendation from his bishop : — 
 
 London, 24f/i July 1840. 
 
 My DEAR Mr, Manning — I read your letter, which is quite 
 unobjectionable, and very forcible and conclusive as far as it 
 goes. I have given it to several persons, and I am sure there is 
 nothing in it that would not be satisfactory to those who oppose 
 the bill, and command the respect of those who promote it. 
 
 Yesterday I was in good heart. The Duke of Wellington's 
 declaration in the House has frightened me, and I have now httle 
 hope of a successful resistance to the principle of the bill. Mr. 
 Knight's argument was not very good. I am told Mr. Hope's 
 is likely to be better. — I am faithfully yours, 
 
 W. Chichester. 
 
 Rev. H. Manning. 
 
 In another letter, dated ten days earlier, the bishop 
 wrote — 
 
 Dear Mr. Manning — ... I hope and trust that the 
 Government and the National Society are now coming to some 
 understanding. The bishops had some reason to complain of 
 the " Corresponding Committee," but I believe that will be now 
 conducted Avith a better understanding and more caution. 
 There is a great want of cordial union amongst the bishops who 
 oppose the Cathedral Bill. They are most of them dispersed, 
 and I find no one ready to stand by me thoroughly, but the 
 bishop of Salisbury (Denison). The lay peers are very little 
 awake upon the subject. . . . — Faithfully yours, 
 
 W. Chichester. 
 
 The Corresponding Committee of the National Society, 
 of whom the bishop complains, were Manning's friends 
 S. F. Wood, Thomas Acland, and the rest. Perhaps the 
 delay in appointing their nominee, Eev. C. Marriott, as 
 Principal of the Theological College at Chichester, of which 
 Newman, in a letter to Manning, so bitterly complained, 
 may have arisen from the Bishop's suspicions of their 
 zeal as being more or less closely connected with the 
 Tractarian movement, as well as from Manning's hesita- 
 tion in pressing the appointment on his reluctant bishop.
 
 IX HIS ACTIVE WOKK— ITS SUCCESS AND REWARD 165 
 
 Warmer than the mild episcopal commendation on the 
 
 tract Preservation of Unendowed Canonries, are the 
 
 following words from a letter of S. F. Wood's, dated 
 Temple, 9th August 1840 : — 
 
 Carissime — I had already bought your beautiful little 
 letter on Unendowed Canonries, but I do not value the less 
 your own membrance of me. Alas ! that such things as this, 
 and as Hope's speech, should pass away like the cunning sound 
 of an instrument, and men who have heard them should talk in 
 the way the Bishop of London did last night. If pettiness and 
 loss of temper indicate, as they surely do, a self-suspicion and 
 consciousness that one is not doing right, one cannot help 
 fearing that he and the Archbishop of Canterbury (who was 
 most unusually cross in the committee upstairs) are in this 
 predicament. We owe great thanks to the Bishop of Sarum, 
 who has stood up nobly and almost single-handed against 
 them. 
 
 In another letter, Bishop Otter admonishes Manning 
 among other things for the obscurity of his style in two 
 sermons presented to the bishop. There seems to have 
 been, indeed, an almost general consensus of opinion — from 
 Newman downwards — as to the faults at this period of 
 Manning's style in writing : — ^ 
 
 My DEAR Mr. Manning — This morning I have just read 
 your education sermon ; with much in the book I am much 
 pleased. It is not much to say that there are parts which I 
 should have been glad to have written myself ; but, then, others 
 are to my mind a little too strong — especially where you lay 
 so much stress upon the old way, namely our public schools and 
 universities, where in fact you find little religion was practically 
 taught. There are parts, too, in point of style a little too 
 ambitious and not always clear. Of these things I will talk to 
 you hereafter. ^ 
 
 Last night I read your other sermon too,^ of which I will 
 say, I think that if it had been only read by myself and such 
 persons as yourself, it might have done good and good only — 
 but, as the case stands, I fear it was not the place or season. I 
 
 ^ Later on Wood congratulated Manning for imitating Newman's style. 
 
 ^ Not a few priests in the diocese of Westminster will smile on learn- 
 ing that Manning, too, in his day as an Anglican priest, had to undergo the 
 ordeal of being "talked to " by his bishop. ^ The Rule of Faith.
 
 166 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 have seen Mr. Davies. I cannot say a word more now because 
 I wish you to receive this to-day, and I have only a minute. — 
 God bless you, W. C. 
 
 The tact, temper of mind, and conciliatory manners which 
 enabled Manning to win his way so early among men of the 
 most opposite religious schools, from the Low Churchmen 
 who ruled at Chichester to the Tractarians of Oxford, may 
 perhaps be exemplified in the most effectual manner by 
 showing the mode and method of his dealings with the 
 Archdeacon of Lewes. Archdeacon Hare was from begin- 
 ning to end a staunch Low Churchman. Far from seeking 
 to dissemble or minimise his views, he was rather prone, 
 on the contrary, to proclaim them in a bold if not even 
 aggressive spirit. The two men, however, became intimate 
 friends, not by avoiding the discussion of religious differ- 
 ences — for their letters were filled with such topics — but 
 by the good-humoured and moderate way in which their 
 views — more especially on Manning's part — were stated. 
 In his letters to Archdeacon Hare, Manning always sought 
 not points of difference, but points of contact. It was not 
 in his nature or cast of mind to raise difficulties or widen 
 differences by startling paradoxes as was the favourite 
 habit both in his Anglican and Catholic days of his friend 
 of a later period, W. G. Ward. On the contrary, in his 
 talk and correspondence with Archdeacon Hare, as a few 
 passages from the letters will show. Manning sought to 
 make it appear (as far as possible) that their differences in 
 religious opinion were more apparent than real. The 
 passages I am now reciting from Manning's letters to 
 Archdeacon Hare were all written in the autumn of 1840. 
 In a letter, dated 17th September 1840, occurs the follow- 
 ing passage : — 
 
 I wish I could have a book -talk with you. As a step 
 towards it, send me the names of some theological works which 
 you think true in principle and reasoning. 
 
 (It was at any rate modest in a disciple of Newman's and 
 a writer in the British Critic to seek theological counsel from 
 an Evangelical archdeacon.)
 
 IX HIS ACTIVE WORK— ITS SUCCESS AND REWARD 167 
 
 I have so confident a feeling that we are radically one, that I 
 should like to reduce our ^atvd/ticva, (^avrao-iat, and etSwAa to 
 some analytical test. 
 
 In another letter is the following passage : — 
 
 Though in opinion we may differ, we have a solid oneness 
 in our desire for brotherly love among the clergy — and this is a 
 pledge of all things running clear at last. 
 
 In a letter, dated 24th August 1840, in answer to a 
 criticism of Archdeacon Hare's, Manning writes as fol- 
 lows : — 
 
 I am too much of a Platonist to hold truth moderately. I 
 should as soon think of holding the multiplication table in 
 moderation. As to the moral habits with which I would deal 
 with opponents or indoctrinable listeners, I hope I should let my 
 cTTtetKeta be known unto all men. 
 
 Then another passage : — 
 
 As to Gal. vi. 15, loe cannot differ. You know who talks about 
 diflferent men being different order of the same man's head ] 
 
 With a man who reads and reasons I can have no con- 
 troversy ; and you do both. We only have not adjusted our 
 tariff of equivalents. 
 
 Again, in a letter dated 11th November 1840 : — 
 
 Don't be so startly, or you will frighten me, for I protest 
 that when I was in Rome they did not offer me the first tonsure, 
 nor so much as a pair of red stockings. 
 
 In a letter dated 8th October 1840 : — 
 
 Why do you think Matins would startle people more than 
 Evensong 1 The latter a blessed bit of English, and the former 
 a word of sweet sound that I have loved still more since I 
 have read 
 
 Indi come orologio, che ne chiami 
 Neir ora che la sposa di Dio surge 
 A mattinar lo sposo, perche Taini, 
 Che I'una parte e I'altra tira ed urge, 
 Tintin sonando con si dolce nota 
 Che '1 ben disposto spirito d'amor turge. 
 
 However you shall have true submission of the exterior 
 man to anything which may be determined. My desire is to do 
 what our brotherhood may most heartily join in.
 
 168 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 Did space allow, many more quotations might be given 
 in proof of the conciliatory character of Manning's dealings 
 with Archdeacon Hare. 
 
 Manning's controversial letters to Archdeacon Hare were 
 written sometimes in a playful, always in a conciliatory 
 spirit, and if not calculated to convince or convert his 
 Evangelical controversialist, they conciliated and captured 
 the man. 
 
 Another illustration of the successful method adopted by 
 Manning in dealing with men may be found in the 
 following letter which he addressed to his own archdeacon, 
 the Ven. Charles Webber, stricken in years, feeble and 
 indolent. In this letter, the Eector of Lavington contrived 
 at first thoroughly to arouse and alarm the Archdeacon of 
 Chichester at the backward state of diocesan business — all 
 the more alarming as in the near prospect of a new bishop, 
 a new broom might too surely be feared — and then adroitly 
 succeeded in soothing and winning his goodwill and grati- 
 tude. The letter, like that of a diplomatist, starts well; 
 for as an excuse for his delay in writing. Manning pleads 
 that — 
 
 I have had to reply at length to a long indirect letter of a 
 poor friend who is all but perverted to Romanism. My answer 
 was critical and delay was likely to do much harm. This will, I 
 hope, plead excuse for me. 
 
 It did more: it showed the archdeacon, incidentally, that 
 the Eector of Lavington was actively hostile to " Eoman- 
 ism." Manning then sends " forms which he had drawn 
 up, as if accompanied by the archdeacon's lists of parishes ; 
 circulars (which are already put in type), standing minutes 
 (and other materials for the archdeacon's use), with all of 
 which he says, " Pray deal as trenchantly as you will." 
 Then he adds — 
 
 I send you also a letter from the secretary of the National 
 Society (which I have answered), that you may see how necessary 
 it is for us to be doing something. The " Queries " addressed 
 to the local board may be easily used by us for the rural 
 deaneries. The secretary has also sent me reports of six diocesan
 
 IX HIS ACTIVE WORK— ITS SUCCESS AND REWARD 169 
 
 boards and as many more district societies, from which I un- 
 hesitatingly believe, that we are behindhand in almost every 
 point, except the training school, in which we seem as forward 
 as any but Exeter and London. 
 
 The poor sleepy old archdeacon must needs have been 
 nearly shaken out of his wits by the whirlstream of activities 
 poured in upon him by the energetic and restless rector of 
 Lavington. 
 
 Manning continues the awakening process by declaring 
 that he fully believes that the twenty-six rural deans, if 
 they would be active, and if they were thoroughly well 
 instructed as to the particular points of their work, would 
 more effectually raise and extend the education of the 
 diocese than ten or twelve local boards. " But this seems 
 hardly to be hoped for," he adds, " without some full 
 directions from the bishop." But, in the meantime Manning 
 forwards shoals of forms with columns and headings for the 
 rural deans to fill up. All of which were to be submitted 
 to the archdeacon. 
 
 Poor archdeacon ! ! ! ^ 
 
 Having thoroughly stirred up his old and venerable 
 friend, Manning with the tact and diplomatic skill which 
 seemed part of his nature, hastened, at the close of his 
 letter, to apply the most soothing of moral balms as 
 follows : — 
 
 "I do not remember any other point of business at this 
 moment : and therefore I may add a word or two cr^i^oAacrTiKws. 
 The day you spent with me gave me a joy which has set my 
 boats afloat again. I find the want of such opportunities of 
 conversation a very great torporific. Perhaps it is one of our 
 greatest lets in the way of study that we are so dotted about 
 as never or seldom to become confluent." 
 
 Again : — 
 
 I have been reading your sermons with much interest. I 
 have done what you would have a right to scold me for, that is 
 
 1 What wonder that on the death of Bishop Otter, Archdeacon Webber, 
 on resigning his office, said to the new bishop, indicating Manning, ' ' Give 
 him the office for he has done all the work."
 
 170 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 I have chosen out the sermons instead of comincicmdo dal comin- 
 ciamento. The visitation sermon I read -with great pleasure. 
 What you say of our actual state and the doctrine of theology 
 speaks my most exact feelings. It is odd that the same year I 
 preached at Chichester ; and my sermon %yould seem to go 
 against the only point in yours, where, as Brunk is Avont to say, 
 ' totus hcesito.' I have not a copy of it ; and do not think I 
 can get one ; or I would send it you. My paper is too full to 
 begin on the matter, so I will keep it for next time I write. 
 Believe me, my dear archdeacon, yours most sincerely, 
 
 H. E. Manning. 
 
 It was with the Dean of Chichester, however, that 
 Manning kept up the closest and most intimate relations ; 
 from Dean Chandler soon came ill -tidings to Lavington 
 — Bishop Otter was dying in Loudon. 
 
 The dean's letter was as follows : — 
 
 Mortimer Street, Friday. 
 
 My dear Manning — I grieve to say your accounts accord 
 with mine. I heard yesterday from Mrs. Otter, and to-day, on 
 sending to inquire at Montagu Place, the answer was from Mr. 
 Trotter himself ; the bishop was somewhat better, but they had 
 no hopes that he could live. I am quite miserable. I did hope 
 that the good bishop would have been spared to us a few years 
 longer. My great consolation is that, even at the worst, the 
 system of the diocese has been so far established, that I think 
 no future bishop will hastily demolish it. . . . But whom are 
 we likely to have 1 I cannot bear to think of it. 
 
 In a letter a few days later, the dean announces the 
 bishop's death, and asks Manning to come to the deanery, 
 adding : — " Of course there are not even rumours yet abroad 
 respecting our new bishop. I agree with you in taking 
 a happier view of the case; but cannot recover the blow 
 inflicted by the departure of our excellent friend." 
 
 Manning, on the bishop's death, wrote a most proper and 
 pathetic letter to his widow. In her reply full of gratitude 
 for his kindly appreciation of her husband's noble qualities, 
 Mrs. Otter gladly accepted Manning's offer to pay her a visit 
 of condolence ; though she remarks that it must needs be 
 painful to her to meet one whom she had been accustomed
 
 IX HIS ACTIVE WORK— ITS SUCCESS AND REWARD 171 
 
 to see so often at the palace during her husband's life- 
 time.^ 
 
 To Archdeacon Hare the Eector of Lavington also 
 wrote a pathetic letter on the death of their bishop, and 
 paid a high tribute to the memory of his many virtues. 
 In this style of composition Manning excelled, though on 
 occasions it might almost seem as if sober truth and the 
 reality of things were sometimes sacrificed to beauty of 
 expression. But such tributes, like epitaphs on tombstones, 
 have an interpretation or reading of their own. The letter 
 is as follows : — 
 
 24th Aug^lst 1840. 
 
 My DEAR Friend — Long ago we have both heard the end of all 
 our fears. I fvilly know how you grieve, and you can tell better 
 than most how I grieve for him. I feel to have lost in my time 
 two fathers. It goes against me to use great words, to you it is 
 not needful, for you know with how filial an affection I loved 
 him ; and how my chief happiness was to do anything which 
 could please him or relieve his anxious labours. This is one of 
 the paradoxes in God's providence. When a man seems most 
 precious, most full of promise, and the centre of a large move- 
 ment, that he should be taken away. One thing may it do for 
 us. He brought us together in his life by deliberate principles 
 of union, may our common love to him, our common sorrow, the 
 remembrance of his gentle, equitable, forbearing, peaceful temper, 
 and of the great master wish of his heart, draw us all into a 
 closer brotherhood, as a loyalty to him that is gone. 
 
 I feel very little minded to write on other matters, and can 
 hardly write on this. . . . Good-bye, my dear friend, the 
 recollection of our loss comes back on me and brings me to 
 a stand. — Believe me, yours most sincerely, 
 
 H. E. Manning. 
 
 ^ In her letter, dated Tuesday, 18tli September 1840, The Palace, Mrs. 
 Otter says : — " My dear Mr. Manning — I am much obliged to you for your kind 
 wish of seeing us, and I beg that you will believe that I shall feel desirous of 
 keeping up the acquaintance and still more the friendship and good-will of the 
 clergy of the diocese of my dear departed husband. . . . You know well, that 
 the first meeting with any one, whom those we mourn regarded, whom we 
 have been in the habit of often seeing in happy days, must be most painful at 
 any time. I think it will be as much so a year hence as now and therefore I 
 should feel glad to have the first over, and to know that I have still a 
 friend in one who was so frequently with us. — Believe me, my dear Mr. 
 Manning, yours very truly, M. Otter.
 
 172 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 Manning's relations and friends were naturally much 
 distressed by the untimely death of Bishop Otter, with 
 whom, for the last two years, the Eector of Lavington had 
 been on terms of friendly personal intercourse. But this 
 anxiety was turned into alarm when Lord John Eussell, 
 practically under the laissez-faire premiership of Lord 
 Melbourne, the giver of mitres, made Dr. Shuttleworth, the 
 Warden of New College, Oxford, Bishop of Chichester. The 
 Warden was a Low Churchman and an anti-Tractarian. 
 Where, now, were Manning's chances of preferment ? Some 
 of his more intimate friends wrote to him fearing lest he 
 might not even be able to maintain the position he had 
 already attained in the diocese. 
 
 In reply to a letter of Manning's on the appointment of 
 the new bishop, Dean Chandler wrote as follows : — 
 
 Deal, \1th September (1840). 
 
 My dear Manning — You are discreet, I observe, on the 
 subject of our new bishop ; so I shall say as little ; excepting 
 this, that as things have turned out, I am extremely glad that 
 Hare is the Archdeacon of Lewes. He will have much more 
 weight and influence with Shuttleworth than Simpson or any 
 other man in the diocese could have had at once, if ever. I have 
 not yet heard from him ; but have written to invite him to the 
 deanery when he first visits Chichester, or to meet him elsewhere 
 at once if he should desire it. I shall not think it necessary, 
 under the present circumstances, to attend the chapter of election.^ 
 
 It is not in human nature, or, at any fate, in the nature 
 of deans, or of archdeacons -expectant, to be devoid of 
 curiosity in regard to the character, temper, or religious 
 views of their bishop-elect. From this weakness, if it be a 
 weakness, Manning was not exempt. On the contrary, it 
 was in the nature of his cautious and forecasting tempera- 
 ment to study betimes the lie of the land through which his 
 pathway led ; to avoid pitfalls ; to remove slowly or by 
 degrees obstacles in his way ; and to seek in prudence and 
 
 ^ In the dean's letter is the following reference to Sydney Smith's well- 
 deserved castigation of Dr. Blomfield : — "I hate to see any of our bishops 
 so shown-uj) ; but it is not in human nature to be much displeased with the 
 castigation inflicted on the Bishop of London by Sydney Smith in his letter 
 in the Times of last Saturday. Have you seen it ? "
 
 IX HIS ACTIVE WORK— ITS SUCCESS AND REWARD 173 
 
 by tentative steps the goal of his desires or ambitions. The 
 untimely death of Bishop Otter was a sore disappointment 
 to Manning. He had become in many ways, if not a 
 necessity, an aid to his bishop. He was, at any rate during 
 the last year or two, at home in the episcopal palace at 
 Chichester. Now the work had to be begun all afresh. 
 Bishop Shuttleworth, a Low Churchman, though not a 
 Unitarian or semi -Unitarian like his first bishop. Dr. 
 Maltby, was not a very hopeful or profitable subject for 
 Manning to work upon. Fresh from the battlefields of 
 Oxford, the late Warden of New College was not an easy- 
 going, tolerant man like the late bishop. Unfortunately, 
 too, for Manning, some inkling, more or less accurate, of his 
 confidential communications with Newman and Keble, and 
 of his contributions to the British Critic, during the last 
 three or four years, had reached the new bishop's ears. 
 During those days of religious strife at Oxford, men but 
 too freely fed on suspicion and waxed fat on prejudice. 
 
 The period between the death of Bishop Otter and the 
 enthronement of Bishop Shuttleworth was naturally a time 
 of misgivings and anxious speculation. Conscious of his 
 personal influence and grace of manner, Manning was 
 anxious to have an early opportunity of meeting the new 
 bishop. In answer to inquiries on this subject, his cautious 
 friend. Dean Chandler, wrote as follows : — 
 
 *■ Deanery, Friday. 
 
 (Post-mark 2nd October 1840.) 
 
 My dear Manning — I have at length heard from our new- 
 bishop. He has now received his summons to Claremont to do 
 homage on Saturday ; and on Monday he will be here, to stay, 
 as he says, at present only till Wednesday ; but it may be for a 
 day more. I will tell you fairly that I quite enter into the 
 feelings you have expressed to me. Merely as a clergyman of 
 the diocese, I think you are not called on to pay your respects 
 to him yet, more especially as he tells me he wishes now to be 
 private ; and as the Secretary of the Diocesan Board, you should 
 be summoned to him. Still my hope and expectation is that 
 such a summons will be given ; and I trust you will hold your- 
 self in readiness to come over if required, even during the short 
 visit that the bishop now proposes to make. Indeed if he
 
 174 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 means to countenance the Diocesan Board (and I cannot entertain 
 one moment's doubt on that point) he must put himself in com- 
 munication with the secretary. I think the case of Archdeacon 
 Hare is somewhat different, and to him I have written to be 
 here on Tuesday. If you think it worth while to ride over from 
 Lavington to visit me, I shall be most happy to see you to- 
 morrow, or for your chop -dinner on Monday. . . . Yours 
 sincerely, G. Chandler. 
 
 lu writing to his intimate friend, Archdeacon Hare of 
 Lewes, Manning did not think it necessary to be as discreet 
 in his strictures on the new bishop as in communicating 
 with the Dean of Chichester. The prospects of the diocese 
 under Bishop Shuttleworth no longer seemed hopeful to 
 Manning ; no longer was he eager, as a week ago he had 
 seemed to Dean Chandler, to meet the new bishop. 
 
 Manning's disappointment at not being summoned by 
 the new bishop, as he had expected or hoped, to Chichester, 
 is clearly indicated in the following letter : — 
 
 lli/i October 1840. 
 
 My DEAR Friend — A letter from our good dean had pre- 
 pared me for yours, but I read it with a sadness of heart — not 
 that it told me anything new, or anything I had not made up 
 my mind to hear. You and the dean have it now in your 
 hands to hold fast or let slip our dear bishop's bequest of good- 
 will and peace. May you be able to keep it. . . . Let us 
 continue to use in our family the prayer (lately appointed — the 
 3rd of June) for unity, and that in the Consecration Service, 
 the end beginning, " Most merciful Father." It was a dis- 
 appointment to me not to see you, as amid all our theological 
 din, we have grown to know each other well. But the dean 
 told you why I did not come. I could not brook to be thought 
 forward, or indeed careful to be employed by Shuttleworth. 
 He shall ever have, when he asks it, my most hearty, cheerful 
 service, and I will not spare myself or my own to do his bidding 
 where I can ; but I can never stand in the relation of a son to a 
 father, as I used, with any other man. 
 
 As to the diocese, I have always said I have not much fear. 
 Things may be checked and chilled for a time, but they will 
 work themselves round again. ... I will write to Newman 
 about the British Critic} When I think about the diocese I feel 
 
 ' Bishop Otter had been permitted by Newman to contribute occasionally,
 
 IX HIS ACTIVE WORK— ITS SUCCESS AND REWARD 175 
 
 as a man does on an autumn afternoon when the sun has gone 
 in, or as I do after my Evensong when the sun is gone down. 
 But, thank God, it is His ordinance, like the covenant with day 
 and night, that His Church shall not want a man to stand 
 before Him, and quit the man that shall do His work. Perhaps 
 we have had our day's growth, and a night's check may be what 
 Ave need as a disci])line and a trial. . . . 
 
 With kind regards to Mrs. Augustus Hare, believe me, my 
 dear friend, yours very sincerely, H. E. Manning. 
 
 I have forgot to say that I rejoice you will take the stall. 
 You ought, and the bishop could not do less than oflfer it to you 
 before all. 
 
 About a month later, Manning again brings before 
 Archdeacon Hare his troubles and difficulties, not this 
 time about the new bishop, but about the old Archdeacon 
 of Chichester. In a letter dated 20th November 1840, 
 Lavington, he writes : — 
 
 My dear Friend — I have done my best to get some chapters 
 summoned, and I have got five, or perhaps six, in motion. But 
 to speak out to you my card is a difficult one. Nothing but the 
 unchecked kindliness between most of the rural deans and myself 
 would keep things as they are. Our archdeacon is kind and 
 willing, but age has done its own work on him, as I trust it may 
 on us, in subduing and calling his mind off from the effort to 
 set them aworking. He is most kind to me, but the grasshopper 
 to him is a burden. I shall see him next week, and will endeavour 
 to do more. 
 
 If even the light weight of the grasshopper was a 
 burden to the aged Archdeacon of Chichester, what a 
 burden on his soul, in that day when " desire shall fail : 
 because man goeth to his long home, and the mourners go 
 about the streets,"^ were now the almost daily appeals 
 and reproaches — more especially since the death of Bishop 
 Otter — of the Eector of Lavington. Manning's restless 
 and rousing energy ever kept him in action in one direction 
 or the other. 
 
 like Manning, S. F. Wood, and others, not theological, but literary or 
 historic articles to the British Critic, and his representatives wanted permis- 
 sion to republish them. 
 ^ Ecclesiastes xii. 5.
 
 176 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 The variety of his labours shows not only the 
 almost inexhaustible energy of his character, but the 
 courageous hopefulness of his heart. His misgivings 
 about the new bishop, far from taking off the edge of his 
 appetite for work, seemed to whet it all the more. His 
 heart was attracted to every plan or scheme set afloat by 
 himself or his friends for the advancement of the Church. 
 His hand was put in help to every man's plough. His pen 
 was ever at work, week after week, all the year through ; 
 now throwing out hints or suggestions to deans and arch- 
 deacons ; now drawing up petitions to the Crown or to the 
 Lords Temporal and Spiritual ; now submitting ideas or 
 plans to his bishop. As Secretary to the Diocesan Board 
 his energies were no longer confined to a small rural parish. 
 It is, or he makes it, his duty to draw up circulars for the 
 guidance or enlightenment of rural deans, to be printed and 
 distributed in shoals. He is busy, now at Brighton — before 
 the days of Arthur Wagner, low-toned and worldly-minded 
 — rousing the torpid, imparting to them his own zeal for 
 church -building ; now at Horsham and Hastings and 
 Bexhill, waging war against the system of pews ; and now 
 aiding his friend Archdeacon Hare at Lewes in the work of 
 establishing middle schools. Again he is busily at work 
 on his more ambitious scheme of eventually substituting 
 for the system of public meeting and platform oratory 
 pursued by the Brighton Church Association, the order and 
 gravity of a Diocesan Synod, Manning characteristically 
 condemns, in a letter to Archdeacon Hare, " the democratic 
 and exciting system of platform oratory as most injurious to 
 such gravity and order." 
 
 Unlike his friend Wood and others, the Eector of 
 Lavington shows his practical sense and business capacity 
 by reducing their visionary ideas and schemes into working 
 order. S. F. Wood, for instance, was ambitious of establish- 
 ing a guild of architects to be attached to the cathedrals, 
 living under a kind of monastic rule ; but Manning is con- 
 tent with establishing an architectural committee attached 
 as members to the Church Association of Brighton. Writing 
 to his dear friend Archdeacon Hare, Manning says : —
 
 IX HIS ACTIVE WORK— ITS SUCCESS AND REWARD 177 
 
 I will send you some project about the architectural com- 
 mittee, which I thought a most hap})y idea of yours, but my 
 project must only provoke you into giving form to your own 
 notion. 
 
 In another letter he writes : — 
 
 As to the architectural committee, it seems that we shall 
 need a vote of the general meeting at Brighton, For at present 
 the members of the committee must be members of the associa- 
 tion ; and the architects whom I should wish to include are not 
 members. 
 
 Manning overcomes this difficulty by making the archi- 
 tects honorary members. He then sets himself to work to 
 tind an architect in Chichester, Brighton, and Hastings, to 
 attend quarterly meetings of the association. In another 
 letter to Archdeacon Hare he speaks of " an architect whom 
 he knows at Chichester with some knowledge and sympathy 
 with Gothic " : — 
 
 Mr. Elliott the architect, I think, has a correct feeling about 
 Gothic, and so much knowledge of it that I am not able to 
 criticise him, but that does not prove anything. He is, how- 
 ever, at work on the right principle, i.e. chronological truth in 
 architecture. 
 
 This architectural committee would be requested to 
 report and recommend a scheme for the future ; and 
 Manning hopes that — 
 
 Some day it may get legs and go as an ambulatory commission 
 to survey and codify the laws of Churchwarden Gothic, beginning 
 from the hat-pegs and wooden mullions at Bexhill. 
 
 In those days, high boxed -in pews, like the "black 
 gown " in the pulpit, were outward and visible signs of 
 Evangelical righteousness, beloved of Low Churchmen ; 
 whereas, to their jaundiced eyes, open benches, like the 
 white surplice, betrayed a " Eomanising " tendency. Man- 
 ning raised his axe, sharpened, like every instrument he 
 made use of, to the finest edge, against curtained pews and 
 hat-pegs. 
 
 To his " dear friend," the staunch Evangelical Archdeacon 
 VOL. I N
 
 178 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 of Lewes, in answer to a remonstrance, Manning wrote an 
 apologetic letter minimising the extent of his misdeeds 
 among the pews (especially in a church at Brighton). 
 
 16^/1 October 1840. 
 
 My dear Friend — I did not exchange pews for open 
 benches, but got the pews (the same in number) moved from 
 the nave of the church to the walls of the side aisles, so that 
 the whole of the church has a regular arrangement of open 
 benches, which (irregularly) existed before. Iping Church has 
 just been rebuilt, and there will hardly be a pew in it — perhaps 
 four or five. Before, I think, there were no open benches. I 
 don't remember any other case. . . . 
 
 I am not to-day quite well, so farewell, with much regard. — 
 Yours ever, H. E. M. 
 
 In a previous letter, speaking about his architectural 
 committee and the duty of making rules as to pews — 
 " for their extinction if possible, if not, to control their size 
 and shape," — forgetful, perha]3s, of his wonted prudence, 
 Manning told Archdeacon Hare, "I did try this last March 
 at Brighton." 
 
 The wars between pews and open benches ; between the 
 black gown and the white, though forgotten now, occupied 
 in their fierce day no little of Manning's busy time.^ 
 
 But what most filled his mind was the establishment of 
 Middle Schools. To Archdeacon Hare, in a letter dated 
 26th October 1840, he wrote as follows: — 
 
 I am very anxious about our next Brighton meeting. Some- 
 thing effectual must be either done or prepared in the matter of 
 education. Nearly two years will thence be gone by since the 
 first move, and not four new schools established. This is tardy 
 work. I have my fears how the bishop may feel on the 
 subject. I have an idea that he is not zealous on this point, 
 but I have no right to say so till he has given me the proof of 
 it. I will see him this week, and let you hear. 
 
 About the meeting itself, I have always thought that it has 
 been smothered. We seldom get more than 150 people, and 
 of that number the greater part clergy. Where are our lay 
 
 ^ See Notes at end of the volume for extracts from Manning's Charge on 
 church-building.
 
 IX HIS ACTIVE WORK— ITS SUCCESS AND REWARD 179 
 
 brethren ? And how shall we get them to attend 1 Do write 
 me what you propose about this. Kobert Anderson would be a 
 good man to ask for counsel in any Brighton business. I am 
 glad to hear about Shoreham, in which case I feel good hope of 
 your success. I know what you mean by saying you cannot 
 feel as confident of the same cordial support.^ But I suppose 
 Horace would not exclude archdeacons from " qui sibi fidit, Dux 
 regit examen." I shall always be glad to swarm with you. — 
 Yours very sincerely, H. E. M. 
 
 From his friend, Dean Chandler, Manning was quick 
 enough to discover that he was not a persona grata to 
 Bishop Shuttleworth who, on first coming to Chichester, 
 looked on him as a " Eomaniser " in disguise. It was a 
 duty which the Eector of Lavington owed to himself, to dis- 
 abuse the bishop of so unworthy a suspicion. Such a work 
 must needs be done, not by himself, but by his friends. 
 All that the timid and courteous dean could do was to speak 
 a good word in season, or when opportunity offered, drop 
 a hint or two in his friend's behalf. Speaking to Manning 
 of Dean Chandler, S. F. Wood once described him as "your 
 roundheaded little Dean, rubbing his hands pleasantly, 
 promises everything, but does nothing." Still in Dean 
 Chandler, Manning knew he had an amicus curice at 
 Chichester. The value of such a permanent whisper at a 
 bishop's ear, or a pope's, as at a king's, is known to every 
 diplomatist, secular or ecclesiastic. 
 
 But far greater influence was exercised by Archdeacon 
 Hare over the Bishop of Chichester. The bishop put faith 
 in so well-known and pronounced an anti-Tractarian, and 
 when he spoke as he did in Manning's favour, his words 
 were like seeds well sown. The bishop was slow of decision 
 and kept his own counsel. In writing to Manning, Dean 
 Chandler said, " I never in all my life knew a man out of 
 whom it is so difficult to get a rescript as Dr. Shuttle- 
 worth." During these four critical months at Chichester in 
 the autumn of 1 840, had Archdeacon Hare shown — as indeed 
 for all that is known he may well have done — Manning's 
 
 ^ In a letter to Manning, Archdeacon Hare had expressed doubts about 
 the new bishop's zeal in regard to the proposed schools.
 
 180 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 frequent letters to himself during that time, to the Bishup 
 of Chichester, their perusal, or extracts from them, would, 
 no doubt, have done no little to abate or remove the bishop's 
 suspicions of Manning's " Eomanising " tendencies. 
 
 Be that, however, as it may, Manning's good repute 
 among the clergy of Chichester ; his religious zeal, earnest- 
 ness, self-denial, as well as his administrative capacity, were 
 sufficient warrant of his fitness for office. The Eector of 
 Lavington and his friends, though they knew that the 
 bishop's early prejudices had greatly abated, still had little 
 trust or hope of his favour. Manning, however, trusted 
 much — and wisely — to his personal influence. He carefully 
 abstained from obtruding on the bishop at Chichester. 
 But, when a favourable opportunity offered, the Eector of 
 Lavington made it a point to meet the bishop, on business 
 or otherwise, at Brighton. 
 
 Things turned out better than Manning and his friends 
 anticipated, or even dreamed of. The new bishop, Low 
 Churchman though he was, did what the late bishop, 
 though friendly to Manning, and indifferent as to religious 
 views, was too easy-going or indolent even to contemplate. 
 Bishop Shuttleworth in his wisdom made Manning Arch- 
 deacon of Chichester. It was an act of just recognition of 
 the indefatigable and useful labours of the Eector of 
 Lavington in the church work of the diocese. But such 
 acts of justice were not too common in those days when 
 party feeling ran so high in the Church of England. As 
 one of Manning's friends, in congratulating him, justly said, 
 " I really think the bishop has done himself great credit by 
 his first appointment. Principle has triumphed over 
 prejudice." -^ 
 
 On Christmas Eve, 1840, Manning received from the 
 Bishop of Chichester the following letter : — 
 
 ^ The Rev. Mr. Tierney, a well-known priest, a friend and contemporary 
 of Lingard the historian, told a friend at the time of the occurrence, that 
 "Manning received from his bishop a promise of the archdeaconry in a 
 drive home to Chichester from Brij^hton. That night was a very sad one 
 for poor Bishop Shuttlewortli, for Mrs. Shuttlewortli stormed like a fury at 
 the promotion — whether she disliked the man, or had a candidate of her own, 
 was not stated."
 
 IX HIS ACTIVE WORK— ITS SUCCESS AND REWARD 181 
 
 Chichester, 24th December. 
 
 My dear Sir — I yesterday had a call from Archdeacon 
 Webber to say that, from his advanced years, he was desirous of 
 resigning his office. Will you oblige me by undertaking it ? I 
 can conceive it is one of great anxiety, but I know no one better 
 calculated to fill it than yourself. If you can do me this favour, 
 perhaps you will undertake also to arrange with the archdeacon 
 when he wishes to retire. He will be glad to have so useful a 
 successor ; and I have no doubt that he will gladly consult your 
 wishes, as you will, of course, consult his in this arrangement. 
 . . . . — Believe me, dear sir, very truly yours. 
 
 Ph. N. Chichester. 
 
 This unexpected gift was a veritable Christmas-box from 
 the bishop — a cause of rejoicing and delight to Manning 
 and his friends ; second only to that excited by Pius IX.'s 
 bestowal on him, in 1865, of the Archbishopric of West- 
 minster. 
 
 The floodgates of congratulations were opened on that 
 memorable Christmas Day. Piles on piles of letters of 
 congratulation have been carefully preserved to this hour. 
 The first person to whom, in filial love, Manning imparted 
 the good tidings was his own mother ; though with char- 
 acteristic caution and reserve he enjoined her to put his 
 letter under lock and key. 
 
 His mother, who was spending the Christmas at Brighton 
 with the Anderdons, congratulated her beloved son in the 
 following letter : — 
 
 Christmas Bay, 1840. 
 
 You can better imagine my surprise and joy, my beloved 
 child, than I can describe it. You shall indeed have my prayers 
 for your success, and also that your health may stand the 
 increase of business you will have with such an enlarged field for 
 exertion. Will you have any residence 1 If you have, and you 
 could be at Chichester in the dead part of the winter, it would 
 agree with you better than Lavington. . . . 
 
 I have locked up the letter and you may depend upon my 
 silence ; but I shall long for another letter. ... I hope you 
 make constant use of the carriage. . . . 
 
 God bless you, my dearest Henry. Ever your affectionate 
 mother, Mary Manning.
 
 182 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 The next letter which follows in the order of family 
 precedence, as the writer himself would have said, was from 
 the new archdeacon's eldest brother, Frederick Manning : — 
 
 Douglas House, Leamington, Saturday. 
 
 My DEAREST Henry — I am much gratified by the fresh 
 proof of the estimate in which you are held in your profession, 
 and I earnestly pray God that you may long continue to dis- 
 charge the office of his ministry in the same manner. I have 
 had much discomfort lately, and this has come to me as a great 
 delight. With our united kindest love, I remain, my dear 
 brother, most affectionately yours, Frederick Manning. 
 
 The second brother, Charles Manning, wrote from Wimble- 
 don in substance as follows : — 
 
 The letter which brought the news of your appointment as 
 archdeacon came to us as we were assembled at our Christmas 
 dinner, and was the greatest of our Christmas delights. It was 
 a great surprise, for we had had now no expectations of your 
 preferment under the new regime at Chichester ; we were even 
 afraid that you would not be able to keep your position in the 
 diocese. The new bishop is not so bad as we had thought. 
 
 All the family united in congratulating the new arch- 
 deacon. 
 
 His brother-in-law, John Anderdon, in a characteristic 
 letter, did his best by counsel and prayer " to improve the 
 occasion," as follows : — 
 
 Brighton, 27th December 1840. 
 
 My dearest Henry — I can only be thankful for your 
 appointment in the Church, and pray that you may be indued 
 with strength from above to perform the higher functions, as 
 you have, under God's directing grace, the more subordinate. I 
 rejoice, my dearest brother, on your account, — I rejoice on your 
 account and that of all the family — but above all, that you will 
 have enlarged scope. Oh may this, with its temptations and 
 difficulties, redound to Almighty God's Glory (for has He not 
 permitted even to us worms to promote that which is already 
 perfect?), by His enlarging the powers and means of grace to 
 the full measure of the field which He assigns to you to cultivate. 
 Nothing within my powers to control will prevent my meeting 
 you here on the 14th. I had been long anxious to ask many
 
 IX HIS ACTIVE WORK— ITS SUCCESS AND REWARD 183 
 
 questions, which are already answered by the event on which 
 we all congratulate ourselves, which are nevertheless even more 
 interesting than before. 
 
 May every blessing be yours, dearest Henry, and accept the 
 heartfelt congratulations of your devoted brother, 
 
 John L. Anderdon. 
 
 From bis sister, Mrs. Austen, came a most warm- 
 hearted and lively letter, full of affection and gratitude, and 
 of hopes for her brother's more extended usefulness in the 
 work of the Church. " She hopes the new archdeacon won't 
 be shocked at her ignorance ; but she would like to know 
 what constitute the component parts of an archdeacon 
 besides shovel hat and gaiters," 
 
 My dearest and most Venerable Henry — I cannot allow 
 a post to escape without congratulating you on what must be a 
 source of gratification to you, and I think far more so from the 
 present bishop than the latter, as it proves he thinks you have 
 been a faithful labourer in the vineyard, where I hope you may 
 long continue to exercise your holy duties, and to enjoy your 
 dignities. 
 
 I am sorry to say I know very little of the component parts 
 of an archdeacon, but I hope a shovel hat and Apron are some 
 of the outward signs. When you have a little time pray let me 
 know all about it, and also whether it enables you to see a little 
 more of your relations ; if so I shall have more cause to 
 rejoice, for really you are of very little good to me. We are 
 almost frozen up, but our hearts are still warm enough to rejoice 
 with you, and Maria the younger desires to join in it also. 
 
 I have just been reading with the greatest delight your poor 
 friend, Mr. Rose's sermons. The first in the book is by far the 
 most interesting sermon I ever read. — Now adieu ; ever your 
 attached Sister, C. C. Austen. 
 
 Henry Wilberforce, Manning's brother-in-law, was almost 
 as delighted at the good news as their mother-in-law, 
 Mrs. John Sargent, as his letter shows : — 
 
 Bransgrove, St. Stephen's Day, 1840. 
 
 My DEAREST Manning — I can hardly say how delighted I 
 was (and really my astonishment was hardly less) at your note, 
 having heard from Wood of the prejudice that my lord showed 
 on first coming to Chichester (altho' I also heard from him that
 
 184 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 it was a good deal mitigated), I could never have imagined it so 
 entirely removed in so few weeks. Well, I am glad indeed, and 
 trust we may rejoice safely both for your sake and that of the 
 Church. 
 
 Still I am not sure that the thing which first struck me was 
 not how very peculiarly indeed dearest INIrs. John Sargent would 
 feel it. One archdeacon almost turned her head, I think two 
 will clean upset it. 
 
 Cannot you spare time to tell me how all this came about 1 
 fFJiy did Webber resign ? Did he know who would come in his 
 place ] Does this lead of necessity, or in probability, to a stall 
 at Chichester 1 If I remember right they continue elective 
 while any of the existing chapter survive ; if so, will they not 
 elect the new archdeacon on a vacancy,^ or does the Sacrilege 
 Bill annex one in prospect 1 — Your most affectionate and much 
 delighted brother, Henry (Wilberforce). 
 
 Mary Wilberforce, his wife and Manning's sister-in-law, 
 was equally effusive. 
 
 My dearest Brother Archdeacon the Second — How 
 pleased we were to receive your letter this morning, no pen or 
 tongue can express, it was such a surprise, for we did not know 
 the old archdeacon had resigned. May it please God to bless 
 you, you dear creatiu-e, in this great and important post. H. 
 (Henry Wilberforce) must write a line ; his joy is very great, 
 I am sorry to say his throat and chest are very far from strong ; 
 he has been forced to give up the daily service for a cough which 
 I trust is now going. — How is your head? — Ever your very 
 affectionate sister, Mary Wilberforce. 
 
 Robert Wilberforce who, after Manning's great illness in 
 1847, became his closest friend and most intimate cor- 
 respondent, wrote as follows : — 
 
 Burton Agnes, 
 DuFFiELD, 4th January 1841. 
 
 My dear Manning — To-day's paper tells me that which I 
 hear with very great pleasure, that you are to be appointed 
 Archdeacon of Chichester. Indeed, I don't know that I ought 
 not at once to address you by that appellation ; but, however, 
 I will still profit by m}' not being assured of the fact to write 
 to you not as to a dreadful pillar of the Chmxh, but as to an 
 
 ^ The stall vacated by his predecessor did not go to Manning, but was 
 given to Archdeacon Hare of Lewes.
 
 IX HIS ACTIVE WORK— ITS SUCCESS AND REWARD 185 
 
 affectionate friend and equal. Had I been assured that you had 
 attained the fastigium diaconaMs, I should feel compelled to 
 copy out a part of the orations of Gregory Nazianzen which I 
 was reading this morning, and address you as he does the most 
 reverend Exarch of Ca^sarea. 
 
 So soon as I saw the statement in the papers I said I must 
 write and congratulate you, but my wife very properly suggested 
 that I must rather congratulate the diocese, for that such dignities, 
 to those who view them rightly, are rather burthens to be borne 
 than to be joyed in. But I cannot but feel that having for so 
 long done all the work of the diocese, it is most fitting that you 
 should be raised to a post in which you can do it with greater 
 comfort, because with a feeling that you are not stepping into 
 another's office, but discharging your own. 
 
 May God bless you, my dear Manning, in this your new 
 labour, and all your undertakings. — So prays your affectionate 
 friend, Egbert Wilberforce. 
 
 Mr, Gladstone, exceedingly rejoiced at the good news of 
 Manning's appointment, wrote as follows : — 
 
 Hawardex, Chester, 2nd January 1841. 
 
 My DEAR Manning — I have received with the liveliest 
 pleasure your note of Christmas day — coming to my hands 
 (after a long winter tour) only this morning, it most agreeably 
 confirms a paragraph I had seen in the paper ten minutes before 
 and thought almost too good to be true. I rejoice on your 
 account personally ; but more for the sake of the Church, and I 
 do not know whether the best aspect of all is not that in which 
 we may consider your promotion a sure sign of an enlarged and 
 far-sighted spirit in your new bishop, of whom I shall now, with 
 great confidence, anticipate everything that is good. All my 
 brothers-in-law are here and scarcely less delighted than I am ; 
 my wife is not behind them. With great glee am I about to 
 write your new address ; but the occasion really calls for higher 
 sentiments ; and sure am I that you are one of the men to whom 
 it is especially given to develop the solution of that great prob- 
 lem, how all our minor distractions are to be either abandoned, 
 absorbed, or harmonised, through the might of the great principle 
 of communion in the body of Christ ; may you have the gifts of 
 God in proportion to all the exigencies of your position. 
 
 With regard to your proposed use of my name, we know one 
 another too well for me to waste words in saying how much I 
 shall rejoice to be associated with any work of yours ; on this 
 occasion however, though I hold you to be a canny or prudent
 
 186 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 man, I will caution even you, if you persist in wishing to 
 exhibit me, to let my name stand in its own insignificance and 
 without additions. I have acted in my dedication to Lyttelton 
 on the principle I now suggest ; the (on every ground) less you 
 say of me the better. I am never afraid of being misunderstood 
 by you, and need add no more. — Ever affectionately 3'ours, 
 
 W. E. Gladstone. 
 
 The following letter of Newman's, congratulating: Manning 
 on his appointment as archdeacon, was almost the last of 
 the correspondence which took place between Newman and 
 Manning in their Anglican days : — 
 
 Oriel, 3rd January 1840. 
 
 My dear Manning — My best congratulations to you. I 
 hope it will turn out all that your own anxieties can wish, or the 
 Church anticipate. I had had a report of it from Charles 
 Marriott, but hardly knew, as he, whether to believe it. I will 
 not forget your wish. . . . — Ever yours, with the best wishes of 
 the season, J. H. Newman. 
 
 One bishop, at all events, a distinguished and decided 
 High Churchman, Edward Denison of Salisbury, rejoiced 
 at Manning's being made an archdeacon : — 
 
 Palace, Sallsbury, 5th January 1841. 
 
 My dear Manning — I have only just learnt your appoint- 
 ment, and cannot delay in writing one hearty line to express the 
 satisfaction which it gives me. I do not doubt that is what our 
 dear lamented friend would have wished. — With the sincere hope 
 that you may be made an instrument of usefulness in this im- 
 portant post, believe me, very faithfully yours, E. Sarum. 
 
 It would seem from Bishop Denison's letter that, during 
 the last two years of his rule at Chichester, Bishop Otter had 
 profited much from the Eector of Lavington's quiet but 
 assiduous influence. In a letter dated 1838, Newman had 
 bidden Manning to lay hands on his bishop, saying : " I 
 hope you will get as tight a hold of your diocesan as you 
 can, and make him take a line, ut deed Fpiscopum." And 
 two years later said in a postscript, " you give me good news 
 of the bishop." Perhaps had the bishop lived longer 
 Manning might have succeeded in inducing him to take a
 
 IX HIS ACTIVE WORK— ITS SUCCESS AND REWARD 187 
 
 more decided line. It would seem, too, from the following 
 letter of Bishop Otter's son, that his father had wished to 
 make Manning an archdeacon : — 
 
 Carfold, nth January 1841. 
 
 My DEAR Sir — Although not within your archdeaconry you 
 will allow me the pleasure of offering my sincere congratulations 
 on your late appointment, at which I rejoice for two reasons — 
 because I have good cause to believe that one wish of my dear 
 father respecting his diocese is thereby fulfilled, and because I 
 anticipate much honour to yourself and much benefit to the 
 Church from your exertions in the office. I fear I have said 
 more upon this subject than my slight personal acquaintance 
 with you may justly warrant, but I feel irresistibly drawn 
 towards those whom my father loved and esteemed. — Believe me, 
 dear sir, yours very truly, W. B. Otter. 
 
 Two of the congratulatory letters, among the most valued, 
 were those of George Moberly of Balliol, and Selwyn, In 
 after years Manning often spoke with kind interest of both 
 of them ; and under their respective signatures, G. A. Selwyn 
 and George Moberly, Cardinal Manning wrote the words, 
 " Afterwards Bishop of New Zealand, then of Lichfield " ; 
 and " Afterwards Bishop of Salisbury." 
 
 In his letter Selwyn said : — 
 
 A few model archdeacons, such as Archdeacons Wilber force, 
 Hare, Lear, and yourself may, by God's help, be enabled to 
 exhibit, must promote, in a degree which we cannot now estimate, 
 the stability of the Church by the compacting of " that which 
 every joint supplieth." 
 
 In congratulating the archdeacon on his " new accession 
 of dignity," George Moberly said : — 
 
 Indeed, I am not less surprised than rejoiced at the appoint- 
 ment, and I do really believe that it is likely to promote the 
 wellbeing of your most important diocese. 
 
 As Bishop Denison paid a tribute to Manning's late 
 bishop, so did Moberly pay a compliment, though perhaps 
 rather a left-handed one, to the new Bishop of Chichester : —
 
 188 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 I trust that really your new bishop is very right at heart ; 
 he is one of those who should not trust himself with his reasons, 
 his conclusions are well enough ; at least so Marriott tells me. 
 
 It was said at the time that the reason, which Bishop 
 Shuttleworth alleged for making Manning archdeacon, was 
 that such an accession of dignity would act as a restraint 
 and add balance to his mind. By such a pronounced Low 
 Churchman as the late warden of New College, few things 
 would be accounted more ill -balanced than a tendency 
 towards Tractarianism.^ 
 
 William Dodsworth, one of the most intimate of Man- 
 ning's friends, was likewise infinitely surprised at the bishop's 
 appointment. In a letter of congratulation to Manning he 
 says : — 
 
 I have just parted with the Dean of Chichester, who has given 
 me the whole account of the matter, which must be gratifying to 
 all your friends, as it is honourable to you. I confess when I 
 heard of Shuttleworth's appointment to the bishopric, I gi'ieved 
 at the thought that it shut you out from all chance of prefer- 
 ment, and from all influence except that which you will always 
 have from your principles and character, the result therefore is 
 as surprising as it is gratifying. 
 
 It would be almost as bad as leaving Hamlet out of the 
 play were I to omit from this chorus of congratulations the 
 venerable ex-Archdeacon Webber, the primal cause of all 
 these rejoicings on the part of High Churchmen ; of all the 
 bickerings and heart-burnings of the Low Church party. 
 For if Manning's appointment was warmly acclaimed by the 
 Christian Eemenibrancer, it was as hotly denounced by the 
 Hecord. 
 
 The late archdeacon wrote as follows : — 
 
 ^ Bishop Shuttleworth, a friend writes, "was never looked upon at 
 Oxford as Evangelical — far otherwise ; he was a Low Churchman of the Whig 
 school, and I should think hated the Evangelicals as much as he hated the 
 Tractarians, wliora he ridiculed after he was a bishop ; for, in writing to his 
 friends at Oxford, he began his letters ' Palace, Chichester, Washing-day,' or 
 any other menial service, out of contempt for the Tractarian practice of some, 
 who dated their letters — S. So and So. I knew of one of Bishop Shuttle- 
 worth's letters, dated ' Washing-day. ' "
 
 IX HIS ACTIVE WORK— ITS SUCCESS AND REWARD 189 
 
 BosGROVE, 29th December 1840. 
 
 My dear Archdeacon-elect — If not appointed before you 
 receive this, I liave sent you something to begin with. I have 
 written to Lord Ashley to say that I shall place it in your hands, 
 and that I feel sure you will take the proper steps. I thank 
 you most sincerely for your very kind note. There are few 
 things in the world which I so much covet as your friendship, 
 and I trust that you will believe that I am ever yours most 
 sincerely, Charles Webber. 
 
 The poor archdeacon seems on his retirement to have 
 received many rather left-handed compliments. The Kev. 
 J. Kenrick of Horsham wrote, " Our archdeacon's last act is 
 his best," but this harsh sentence is qualified by, " When a 
 man resigns an office for apparently no other reason than 
 because there are younger men who are likely to discharge 
 it more efficiently, it should seem as if he had the good of 
 the Church at heart." 
 
 Mr. Freeland, a diocesan official, in his letter of con- 
 gratulation says : — 
 
 Chichester, 28th December 1840. 
 
 It had long been obvious . . . that a change was desirable, 
 for notwithstanding the very high qualities possessed by Mr. 
 Webber, his best friends must admit that he was quite unequal, 
 in the present times, to the proper discharge of the duties of this 
 important office. 
 
 After assuring Manning " that there is no person under 
 whom I could act with so much pleasure as yourself," he 
 adds : — 
 
 The clergy, though much improved, are not yet sufficiently 
 roused into action, and it will now devolve on you to co-operate 
 with the bishop in exciting their zeal and giving it a proper 
 direction. 
 
 The papers will be ready for you on Wednesday. 
 
 The new archdeacon, though supereminently capable of 
 " rousing the clergy," was gifted with infinite tact and pru- 
 dence, and thought it safer and wiser to do his " spiriting " 
 very gently. 
 
 We have heard the Church (with its prayers), or at least 
 one section of it, lift up its voice in praise of the new arch-
 
 190 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 deacon ; let us now listen to the world (with its dinners), or 
 one corner of it, speak in the person of one of its members : — 
 
 Slindon House, Monday Morning. 
 
 My dear Sir — I am very sorry that living in one ccn-ner of 
 the county as I do that we never meet. I also hardly ever go 
 to Chichester, but / did on Saturday to pay my duty to the 
 bishop, and cannot refrain from the pleasure of congratulating 
 you and ns on the appointment that I there heard you have 
 received. The good archdeacon's mantle could not, in my 
 humble opinion, have fallen upon any one in the diocese that 
 would wear it better than yourself, and I hope you will long live 
 to adorn it, and it you. 
 
 The more immediate object in my writing to you now is in 
 the name of my kind and excellent relation, Lady Newburgh, 
 with whom we always spend this season. She says she has long 
 known your relations in the county, and would be very happy to 
 have the pleasure of knowing you ; and should you be not other- 
 wise engaged, will you waive ceremony and dine here on New 
 Year's day at five o'clock, and meet the bishop and Mrs. Shuttle- 
 worth 1 and to stay the night if you choose, which would also 
 give me the pleasure of seeing you, and an opportunity of pre- 
 senting you to Lady Cecil. — I am, my dear sir, yours very truly, 
 
 J. Delateld. 
 
 The visit to Count Delafeld, or rather the dinner in his 
 corner of the world, was a success. 
 
 Archdeacon Manning was a delightful companion at the 
 dinner-table ; the grace of his manner and the charm of his 
 conversation made an impression even on Bishop Shuttle- 
 worth, while it not only completely fascinated Lady Cecil 
 Delafeld, but did much to assuage Mrs. Shuttleworth's 
 wrath at the appointment of the new archdeacon. The 
 bishop pleasantly remarked on the occasion that, though he 
 passed the bottle almost untouched, the archdeacon was 
 the master of an inexhaustible fund of anecdote. This was 
 the first of Manning's social successes. During the next 
 eight or nine years the fascinating archdeacon, as he was 
 frequently called, with his quiet humour, pleasant talk, and 
 rich store of anecdotes, though often drawn upon, never 
 exhausted and always well told, was an ever-welcome guest 
 in London society.
 
 IX HIS ACTIVE WORK— ITS SUCCESS AND REWARD 191 
 
 One of the most friendly and intimate among the rural 
 deans, E. Tredcroft, after congratulating Manning on his 
 appointment, and praying that " the good and gracious 
 Master whom we serve will give you strength proportionate 
 to your greater need," puts the following pertinent, if not 
 impertinent, question, with which I may fittingly close this 
 transition chapter : " But what will be said of it at Oxford ? 
 Who is the convert, it will be asked, the late warden of New 
 College or the author of the Rule of Faith ? "
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 THE ARCHDEACON OF CHICHESTER 
 
 1841-1843 
 
 Manning's appointment as Archdeacon of Chichester opened 
 up a wider sphere of influence for the rising churchman, 
 and gave him opportunities of coming into more frequent 
 and closer contact not only with the country clergy in the 
 diocese of Chichester, but with leading men in London 
 interested in Church affairs. His closer intimacy with Mr. 
 Gladstone ^ began about this date ; they often conferred 
 together on Church matters, and as their ample correspond- 
 ence shows, were of one mind in regard to Anglican interests. 
 The Archdeacon of Chichester likewise renewed acquaintance 
 with some of his more distinguished Oxford contemporaries, 
 which sometimes, though not often, ripened into friendship. 
 Manning's friendships were not like those of his brother-in- 
 law Samuel Wilberforce, whose friendships were intimacies 
 of the closest nature. " I never knew," Mr. Gladstone 
 remarked quite recently, " a man of so sympathetic and 
 loving a nature as Bishop Wilberforce ; his friendships, 
 like Newman's, were life-long intimacies. In conversation 
 and correspondence he spoke out his heart about his friends.^ 
 
 ' Mrs. Gladstone shared her husband's friendly feelings towards Manning 
 who, at her express desire, became godfather to Mr. Gladstone's eldest son, 
 "William. 
 
 2 In a letter to Manning, dated 15th Nov. 1837, Wood said: — "Sam 
 Wilberforce I have not yet come to the speech of ; I will be careful not to allude 
 in any way to the conversation we had. Both he and others of his family are, 
 I think, in the habit of talking over and exercising acts of judgment on their 
 friends' characters in a way which both produces evil externally and injures 
 their own minds : and we shall do well to take warning for ourselves."
 
 CHAP. X THE ARCHDEACON OF CHICHESTER 193 
 
 If, indeed, Manning had any intimate friends beside myself, 
 he was too reserved to speak about them." 
 
 Manning as archdeacon naturally felt himself a bigger 
 man than as rector of a small country parish : he had an 
 ecclesiastical future before him ; he was invited to preach 
 in London or in Brighton before influential congregations : his 
 voice was heard on many a religious platform. Far more ; 
 as one of the Select Preachers for the year, he went up to 
 Oxford to preach before the University.^ 
 
 In the early days it was often said at Archbishop's 
 House by men, who imputed their own feeling of awe or 
 admiration for Archbishop Manning to others, that " at 
 Oxford the undergraduates were on their best behaviour in 
 the presence of Archdeacon Manning " ; that " youthful 
 levity was subdued or sobered by his solemn voice and his 
 austere mien." But that was a fancy picture — not of the 
 archdeacon, but of Oxford undergraduates. Undergradu- 
 ates in reality are men who fear only the proctors or duns. 
 None would change their behaviour in the presence of a 
 country parson coming up to preach to them. The great 
 majority never took the trouble to hear the sermon in those 
 days. The presence of the archdeacon had no more awe 
 about it than the presence of other preachers, who came up 
 every Sunday in their turn. The undergraduates of those 
 days would not have touched their caps to Archdeacon 
 Manning had they met him in the street. The under- 
 graduates of the present day, it is said, are still more 
 advanced. In all this there was nothing personal to the 
 archdeacon, for every other preacher coming up to Oxford 
 was regarded in the same way. 
 
 The country parson coming up to Oxford to preach for 
 
 ^ In 1841, Arclideacon Manning was one of the nine Select Preachers for 
 the year. In the month of November nine preachers are selected to preach 
 during the ensuing year before the University when the ordinary preachers 
 are unable to perform the duty. The Wardens select four, and five are 
 chosen by the Vice-Chancellor. Each of them in turn comes up to Oxford to 
 preach. Frederick Oakeley, at an earlier date, was one of the Select Preachers ; 
 Sam Wilberforce was elected three times to the office, and so were many others 
 of less note, or unknown to fame. Though vicar of St. Mary's, Newman 
 of course had been Select Preacher. 
 
 VOL. I O
 
 194 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 the first time was more moved than the undergi-aduates. 
 In the preacher's life it was an event ; an opportunity. 
 To Manning it was a supreme duty. His heart was filled 
 with spiritual unction. In solemn emphatic voice he 
 spoke to his novel congregation : not arguing but pleading ; 
 not exciting the intellect by reasonings deep and keen, 
 but touching the heart by fervent appeals to holiness of 
 living, to righteousness and purity of conduct. 
 
 The first time that he preached at Oxford as arch- 
 deacon was on the 24th of February 1841. Mr. J. B. 
 Mozley, who was present at that sermon, gave at that time 
 his impressions of Manning's method and style of preaching 
 in a letter to his sister, dated 25 th February : — 
 
 Manning was up yesterday. He gave what one might really 
 call a powerful sermon ; not controversial, but rather, as Coleridge 
 would say, introversial, which is rather his line : that is, entering 
 into and describing states of mind, struggles within ; his subject 
 being, Judas gradually giving way to his besetting sin. He is 
 certainly very deep, but not always in good taste ; too nice and 
 pointed in his style and delivery ; was so very emphatic in every 
 little word and sharp thing that he came across, that he rather 
 defeated himself and put everything on a level. ^ 
 
 In another letter, dated Oxford, April 1841, J. B. 
 Mozley wrote to his brother, the Rev. Thomas Mozley, as 
 follows : — 
 
 Manning was up the other day, preaching before the Uni- 
 versity. It was a good sermon ; but not well delivered, and 
 rather inclining to pedantry in the style ; too polished and anti- 
 thetical in the choice of words. He looked quite proper and 
 archidiaconal, with the straight-cut coat and the gentlest shovel. ^ 
 
 Although he was only in his 34th year when he was 
 made archdeacon, the Eev. Thomas Mozley, in his Reminis- 
 cences of Oriel, speaks of Manning as " prematurely bald, 
 venerable, and wise." Indeed Henry Wilberforce used to 
 affect, in his own amusing way, a continual sense of in- 
 justice that at public meetings, when Manning and himself 
 happened to rise together, he was so often bidden to sit 
 
 ' Letters of J. B. Mozley, p. Ill, LondoD, 1885. ^ Ibid.
 
 X THE ARCHDEACON OF CHICHESTER 195 
 
 down and give place to his seniors ; whereas in reality 
 though not in appearance, he was the senior.^ Appearances, 
 however, count for not a little in this world. What 
 chances, as the late W, G. Ward used to say, had a big 
 burly man like himself of obtaining credit for mortification 
 of the flesh ? whereas it was given as a matter of course to 
 persons of such an ascetic appearance as Manning. 
 
 If a fine bald head be a lucky stepping-stone to a young 
 physician, there can be no doubt that Manning's austere 
 and venerable appearance stood him in good stead as arch- 
 deacon, promoted as he was so early in life over the heads 
 of so many of the senior clergy of Chichester. His tact 
 and conciliatory manners and prudence, which never slept 
 or slumbered, soon won the good graces of the clergy with 
 whom by his office he was brought into constant contact. 
 
 The year 1841 was a turning-point in Manning's life. 
 It was marked by two critical events external in character 
 and of opposing force — his appointment as archdeacon, 
 and the condemnation of Tract 90. Circumstance, "that 
 unspiritual god," demanded once more from its servant 
 homage and sacrifice. As archdeacon. Manning entered 
 into official relations with the Established Church ; he held 
 an office not only of dignity but of trust ; with new duties, 
 new responsibilities were imposed upon him. Above all 
 things it behoved him to be circumspect and prudent. If 
 he had already succeeded in conciliating so extreme a Low 
 Churchman as his bishop, it was necessary not to forfeit 
 his continued goodwill ; " not to give umbrage to the 
 
 ■■ J, B. Mozley in a letter to his sister described Henry Wilberforce as 
 follows : — " In spite of his being married and a father he is just the same 
 absurdly ludicrous fellow as of old." 
 
 ^ A friend of Manning, the Rev. J. R. Hughes, shortly after Bishop 
 Shuttleworth's death, wrote as follows : — 
 
 "Eastboukne, Sussex, 
 " Mmiday, 7th February 1842. 
 
 ' ' My dear Mr. Archdeacon — ... I can assure you that the late bishop 
 was very careful not to do any thing, which might seem to lessen your 
 official authority. I remember very well how much annoyed he was on the 
 evening previous to the last Ordination, that Mr. Bowdler's book should have 
 been laid in the drawing-room, when the candidates for Orders, as you 
 remember, were dining with him. He had always kept it in his own study : 
 and was therefore annoyed that you should have found it, where it might
 
 196 CARDINAL MANNING chav. 
 
 " Liberals," and aggressive Low Church Party, who enjoyed 
 his confidence. Manning was the last man to forget that 
 he was now himself a Church dignitary, and bound as such 
 to show reserve and moderation in his religious opinions.^ 
 
 Bishop Shuttleworth, fresh from the fierce battle-fields 
 of Oxford, himself stubborn and rough of tongue towards 
 the Tractarians, was much impressed by the meek and 
 gentle spirit and conciliatory tone displayed by his new 
 archdeacon in a sermon — the first which the bishop had 
 heard — preached at Chichester Cathedral. It was delivered 
 on the occasion of Bishop Shuttleworth's first ordination, on 
 Trinity Sunday 1841, under the title "Moral Design of 
 the Apostolic Ministry." The following passage especially 
 attracted the bishop's notice : — 
 
 It is precisely those characters which the world counts 
 
 seem to have been placed by him in the way of his guests of that evening. 
 [The Bishop's wife, it was surmised, ' had felt it her duty to testify ' on the 
 occasion by producing the book.] 
 
 "Our good bishop always spoke most kindly of you, notwithstanding the 
 difference of opinion which existed between you on some of the controverted 
 points of the present day. 
 
 ' ' I have written to Mr. Welsh at Burwash, respecting Mrs. Shuttleworth, 
 but have not yet received an answer. — I remain, dear Mr. Archdeacon, yours 
 very faithfully, J. R. Hughes." 
 
 ^ After he was appointed by Bishop Shuttleworth, Archdeacon of Chichester, 
 Manning did not consider it advantageous, or even expedient, to republish 
 The Rule of Faith and Appendix. The book had given great offence to the Low 
 Church party, and to his new bishop as well as to other bishops and Church 
 dignitaries of the same party. In the same letter, quoted in the note above, 
 his friend, in the view of making matters smooth between the Low Church 
 party and Archdeacon Manning, gave him the following information : — 
 
 "I remember the late bishop mentioning to me with regret, either in 
 June or October last, that a new edition of your Rule of Faith had been 
 recently advertised. But from what source he derived liis information, I 
 really cannot say. Certainly the impression on my own mind was till now, 
 that I had seen a new edition advertised in the Oxford Herald, before the 
 bishop mentioned it. Your statement, however, is so clear as to the date of 
 republication, that I can only come to one of these two conclusions, either 
 that I am altogether wrong in my supposition, or that the bookseller inserted 
 such an advertisement without your knowledge. However tliis be, I will 
 take care, should the sultject be ever mentioned in my hearing, to set the 
 parties right, and to state that the book was not republished subsequently to 
 your being appointed Archdeacon of Chichester. I only remember one perso7i, 
 besides the bisliop, making mention of this matter, and to him I will explain 
 that he was under a false impression."
 
 X THE ARCHDEACON OF CHICHESTER 197 
 
 weakest, that gain most absolute mastery. It is by gentleness 
 and a yielding temper, by conceding all indifterent points, by 
 endurance of undeserved contempt, by refusing to be offended, 
 by asking reconciliation when others would exact apology, that 
 the sternest spirits of the world are absolutely broken into a 
 willing and glad obedience to the lowliest servants of Christ. 
 
 It was especially trying to Manning that the bishop, 
 vehom be had succeeded in conciliating and who had made 
 him archdeacon, died almost within the first year of his 
 episcopate. The fourth and last bishop under whom Manning 
 served in the Anglican Church was Ashurst Turner Gilbert, 
 The archdeacon's point of contact with the new bishop was 
 in the ministerial work of rousing the clergy and in reform- 
 ing abuses. " My good-natured predecessor, Bishop Otter " 
 he observed, " had allowed many men to officiate in the 
 diocese without inquiring into their antecedents, one from 
 Norwich, who I believe was not ordained." In this work 
 of reform Manning was a zealous helper. 
 
 Again, the Archdeacon of Chichester " dreamed dreams," 
 and saw visions of future greatness unfold before his eyes. 
 For the first time the thought of ecclesiastical preferment 
 entered into his mind, at least as an object within reach.^ 
 The restless desire for distinction which had slumbered in 
 the obscurity of his happy home at Lavington awoke again 
 in his breast. Manning, however, never was an idle 
 dreamer of dreams, but an active worker ever on the alert 
 to convert dreams into realities. 
 
 Hence the practical character of his work, whether in 
 striving to obtain greater liberty of action for the Church; 
 or in helping to found colonial bishoprics ; or in labouring 
 heart and soul to amend the laws which affect the poor 
 injuriously, or fail to safeguard their moral as well as their 
 material wellbeing. 
 
 It is not easy to keep pace with the variety of Manning's 
 activities. It was not without good reason, on her son's 
 appointment as archdeacon, that his mother prayed that 
 his health might stand the increase of business he would 
 have with such an enlarged field for exertion. 
 
 ^ See contemporary Diary, 1844-47.
 
 198 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 One of the chief works which he took in hand was an 
 amendment of the Poor Law, especially as regards its 
 bastardy clauses. He entered into an active correspondence 
 with Mr. Gladstone on this subject, who placed the letters 
 in the hands of Sir James Graham. In a letter dated Cam- 
 bridge, 26 th November 1841, Mr. Gladstone wrote : " I have 
 received a letter from Sir James Graham referring to your 
 two communications on the bastardy clauses. He is much 
 pleased with their tone. He is disposed, without putting 
 an end to the application of the workhouse test against 
 the mother, to make the remedy against the putative father 
 ' real and effective ' for expenses incurred in the workhouse. 
 I am not enough acquainted to know whether it would be 
 advisable to go further. You have not proposed it : and I 
 am disposed to believe that only with a revived and im- 
 proved discipline in the Church can we hope for any gener- 
 ally effective check upon lawless lust." Manning finally 
 offered to submit to Sir James Graham, Home Secretary 
 in Sir Eobert Peel's first administration, a memorandum on 
 certain defects in the working of the new Poor Law. Mr. 
 Gladstone, who was Vice-President of the Board of Trade, 
 in a letter dated 3rd December 1841, wrote as follows : — 
 
 My dear Manning — I am sure both that Graham will con- 
 sider favourably anything coming from you on the Poor Law ; 
 and that any paper you will draw up will be such that the 
 several iria-reis of the man and the matter will receive its fair 
 and full attention. — Your affectionate friend, 
 
 W. E. Gladstone. 
 
 Manning was much pained that, owing to the operation 
 of the bastardy clauses, the guilty parties, without real 
 repentance and confession, presented themselves at the 
 altar for marriage, and hoped that such an amendment in 
 the law might be introduced as would remove or lessen the 
 evil ; or that the ancient discipline of the Church might 
 be revived. Mr. Gladstone deeply sympathised with 
 Manning as to discipline, but suggested that " The only way 
 to revive the system is to do it permissively and as it were 
 in a corner. Why should not a man having a small flock,
 
 X THE ARCHDEACON OF CHICHESTER 199 
 
 and his churchwardens and persons of influence with him, 
 devise sober rules with the allowance of his bishop for his 
 own people and introduce them by degrees ? May he not 
 require the private confession and contrition of the parties ? 
 Would it be impossible to secure this in a small rural parish 
 by means of persuasion and influence ? May we not make 
 a good use of the rubric enjoining or advising communion 
 after matrimony, in combination with the exhortation to 
 confess before communion in certain cases ? " 
 
 Manning would have gladly adopted or rather have antici- 
 pated Mr. Gladstone's advice, but was far too prudent and 
 practical to ask of his Low Church bishop permission to 
 hear confessions at Lavington. 
 
 In connection with the general question of immorality in 
 the manufactory districts. Manning entered into correspond- 
 ence with Sir George Cornewall Lewis, President of the 
 Board of Trade, urging upon him the necessity of restricting 
 the hours of labour for girls working in factories and looms, 
 and of introducing regulations to protect their morality. 
 
 In reference to this correspondence Mr. Gladstone wrote 
 as follows to Manning : — " I forward for your perusal the 
 inclosed note from Graham, by which you will I think be 
 gratified, Lewis's scholarship is good : but his letter in the 
 main more learned than practical." 
 
 Speaking of Manning's controversy with Lewis, carried on 
 in a series of letters on the policy of restricting the hours 
 of female labour, Mr. Gladstone said to me, quite recently : 
 " Lewis, who was President of the Board of Trade, of which 
 I was Yice- President, stubbornly combated Manning's 
 arguments in favour of the introduction of such laws or 
 regulations as would protect the morality of girls working 
 in factories. Lewis, as you know, was a very strong man. 
 I showed the correspondence to Sir James Graham, who was 
 singularly acute in judgment ; and asked his opinion on it. 
 In reply he said, ' Manning has more than held his own.' " ^ 
 
 ^ On liearing of Sir James Graham's opinion on the controversy with 
 Lewis, Cardinal Manning was much pleased and said, "I never knew that 
 Sir James Graham had seen those letters of mine." And then he added, "Sir 
 James Graham was a man of profound judgment."
 
 200 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 Perhaps the work done in his Anglican days, which 
 Manning, as cardinal, was most proud of, and oftenest 
 referred to with deepest sympathy, was his share in founding 
 colonial bishoprics. At the time when he took part in 
 forming the "Colonial Bishoprics Fund," in April 1841, 
 there were only six bishops in our vast colonial empire. 
 As a missionary church the Church of England had signally 
 failed. Vast opportunities of discharging one of her 
 primary duties as a Christian community had been utterly 
 neglected. If civilisation had followed the flag of England, 
 Christianity had not. Even in our Indian Empire it was 
 not the English Church which preached the Gospel to the 
 heathen, sitting undisturbed in the darkness. It was St. 
 Francis Xavier, who brought the Cross of Christ to the 
 heathen multitudes, and by words of love and pity touched 
 the hearts of tens of thousands and brought them to the 
 love and knowledge of God. 
 
 Manning was the first to remove this reproach from the 
 Church he loved so well, and from the good name of England 
 as a Christian country. By his memorable speech, dehvered 
 at "Willis's Eooms, April 1841, on behalf of the "Colonial 
 Bishoprics Fund," ^ the heart of the country was moved 
 and roused to action. In after-life. Manning cherished a 
 warm regard for George Selwyn and used often to say, " I 
 look upon him as the first fruits of my labours on behalf of 
 colonial bishops," as, indeed, he was ; for a few months 
 after the meeting at Willis's Rooms, George Selwyn was 
 made first Bishop of New Zealand. 
 
 On the occasion of his appointment Manning wrote the 
 following letter : — 
 
 Christmas Eve, 1841. 
 
 My dear Lord — I send you a slight remembrance ^ of one 
 who Avill follow your memory with a fast and affectionate regard. 
 Our meetings have been, indeed, few ; but somehow our fellow- 
 ship was anticipated by oneness of heart in the work we were 
 then upon. Now, I shall ever think myself happy to have been 
 
 1 See Manning's speech in volume ii. of Old Pamphlets. 
 
 2 A volume of sermons, on the title-page of which George A. Selwyn's 
 name was inscribed.
 
 X THE ARCHDEACON OF CHICHESTER 201 
 
 known to you. It is for me only to offer my prayers that you 
 may be greatly blessed, and reach a high place in His kingdom, 
 into the lowest room of which you deem yourself unworthy to 
 enter. I could have greatly desired to see you once more. — 
 Believe me, my dear lord, your faithful and affectionate ser- 
 vant, Henry E. Manning. 
 
 After long years of separation and silence, when Man- 
 ning was Archbishop of Westminster, and Selwyn Bishop of 
 Lichfield, Selwyn wrote to the archbishop as follows : ^ — 
 
 Lichfield, December 24, 1867. 
 
 My dear Friend — for so I must call you still — I thank you 
 heartily for your very kind letter. 
 
 There is no old friend of whom I have thought more 
 frequently than of 3'ou, because the remembrance of your 
 speech at the first establishment of the Colonial Bishoprics 
 Fund has never faded from my mind. When I read an extract 
 from it in a report of a speech delivered by Mr. Gladstone, it 
 seemed as fresh as if I had only heard it yesterday ; and no 
 wonder, because by that sjoeech my dear mother, then sitting by 
 my side, was led to take the widest estimate of missionary duty, 
 and so was prepared for the call which shortly after sent me out 
 to New Zealand. Often I have looked upon the title-page of 
 the volume on which you inscribed my name ; and have read 
 the sermons with the same pleasure as if you were still our own. 
 I remember also the letters which you kindly wrote to me when 
 your mind was disturbed about the Gorham Judgment. There 
 is sorrow, no doubt, mingled with these remembrances ; but I 
 cherish them as spiritual sympathies which even now are not 
 without their value, and which may be revived in greater per- 
 fection when (as you say) these bonds shall have passed away 
 in a better world. 
 
 Allow me to wish you all joy of this holy season, and to 
 unite with you in praying for " peace on earth and good will 
 towards men." — I remain, my dear friend, yours affectionately, 
 
 G. A. N. Zealand, Lichfield. 
 
 Of this famous speech, referred to in the above letter 
 by George Selwyn, Mr. Gladstone, at the jubilee meeting of 
 
 1 Referring to this letter, Cardinal Manning, in a Journal, dated 15th No- 
 vember 1888, has entered the following words: — "George Selwyn was a 
 heroic Christian soul — a rebuke to most of us."
 
 202 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 the Colonial Bishoprics Fund, held in 1891, gave an able 
 summary. After alluding to the fact that he, with the 
 exception of Cardinal Manning, was the only person living 
 who had taken part in the proceedings of that memorable 
 occasion, Mr. Gladstone went on as follows : — 
 
 There was a remarkable speech made on that day, which sent 
 a thrill of exaltation through the whole assembly at Willis's 
 Rooms, delivered by a man of eminence, of known devotion to 
 his work in his own sense, whose whole mind and whose whole 
 heart were then given to the service of the Church of England. 
 He was then known as Archdeacon Manning. Archdeacon 
 Manning, in a most striking and a most powerful speech, de- 
 lineated the condition of the English Church of the Anglo-Saxon 
 race of our colonial empire. He pointed out upon how vast, 
 how gigantic a scale we were then occupying the waste places 
 of the earth, and multiplying millions of human beings who 
 trod the face of it ; and then he pointed to the scanty evidence 
 which, up to that time, had been given of any care which had 
 been taken by the Church of England for the propagation of 
 the Gospel in these vast countries. He contrasted the meagre- 
 ness and feebleness of our spiritual efforts with the wonderful, 
 undying, untiring energies of the commercial powers, and the 
 spirit of emigration, which were even then achieving such vast 
 results in the world. He contrasted, I say, the one spectacle 
 with the other. He said the Church of England has now to 
 make a choice between the temporal and the spiritual. She 
 has to determine whether she will be the beast of burden, or 
 whether she will be the evangelist of the world. That was a 
 noble appeal — a noble challenge. The force of it was felt ; it 
 was taken up and duly answered. 
 
 This successful meeting at Willis's Eooms was followed 
 by another, of a wider range, held at the Mansion House, 
 for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts. At 
 this meeting also Manning spoke with effect. In his 
 first year as Archdeacon, he was beginning to make his 
 mark, and as a public speaker at religious meetings to 
 excite attention. 
 
 As rector of an obscure country parish, Manning might 
 be on intimate terms with Newman, and take part, as far 
 as his abilities and opportunities allowed, with the Tract- 
 arian movement, without attracting notice or blame. But
 
 X THE ARCHDEACON OF CHICHESTER 203 
 
 as Archdeacon of Chichester, cultivating friendly relations 
 with bishops and Church dignitaries, working in common 
 with statesmen or cabinet ministers for the promotion of 
 Church interests, or appearing as an acceptable speaker at 
 great ecclesiastical meetings, to be implicated in any way 
 with the Tractarian party at Oxford, would, as he well knew, 
 be destructive alike to his present work and future influence, 
 and fatal to any hope or chance of ecclesiastical preferment. 
 After carefully considering the state of things in regard to 
 his own position and responsibilities. Manning elected to 
 take his stand by the protesting bishops, and to break with 
 Newman and the Tractarian party. 
 
 In July 1841, Archdeacon Manning delivered the first 
 of those annual charges, which soon made him known 
 throughout England as one of the foremost defenders of the 
 English Church against popular Protestantism on the one 
 hand, and on the other, against the Eomanising and un- 
 popular tendencies of the writers of the Tracts for the 
 Tinus. In his sermons at Lavington Church, or in the 
 cathedral at Chichester, the archdeacon did not press his 
 High Church views, but contented himself with enlarging 
 on the perfections or capabilities of the Church of England 
 " primitive yet purified," a standing witness to " the blessed 
 results of the Eeformation." But in his charges he ad- 
 dressed a more varied and a more sympathetic audience ; 
 for in a large and ever-increasing number of the parsonages, 
 even in the diocese of Chichester, were already to be found 
 the sons of the Tractarian movement, zealous disciples of 
 Newman. Yet, even in those charges, Archdeacon Man- 
 ning never betrayed " Eomanising " tendencies ; on the 
 contrary, he declared, as one who spoke with knowledge, 
 " that all which men were seeking for elsewhere in a de- 
 caying Christendom — and seeking in vain — were to be 
 found, and with greater purity alike in doctrine and devo- 
 tion, in the Church of England." The ideal which he held 
 up before the eyes of men with a faith and confidence so 
 assured as to be touching in its tenacity, and which fascin- 
 ated the imaginations of many, was the Anglican Church 
 perfected by God's hand and delivered once for all from her
 
 204 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 bondage to the State. Manning's charges in those days 
 were events. They made a stir, not in the religious world 
 only. Discussed on all sides, they created a sensation of a 
 kind which we to-day, in a generation when subjects of 
 rehgious or controversial interest have fallen into the 
 background, find it difficult to realise. I am fortunate, 
 however, in being able to appeal to a most competent wit- 
 ness as to the general interest which Manning's charges and 
 addresses aroused. Mr. Gladstone, who was not only an 
 eye-witness, but a fellow-worker and friend of Manning's 
 in the defence of the Anglican cause, tells me to-day that — 
 
 In those days Manning's charges and addresses were looked 
 forward to by all of us with great eagerness ; they were talked 
 of beforehand ; and yet I never remember to have been dis- 
 appointed in them. They more than fulfilled my expectations ; 
 they were fuller, deeper, than I anticipated. You know the 
 diiference between a rising and a falling market. Manning was 
 always in the rising market. 
 
 To show Manning's state of mind, at a critical period 
 in the Tractarian movement at Oxford, and his habit, in 
 part natural, in part acquired, of never committing himself, 
 if he could help it, to an unpopular movement, or of taking 
 his stand on the side of a failing cause, I cannot do better 
 than recite two or three characteristic passages from a 
 charge delivered at the ordinary visitation of the Arch- 
 deaconry of Chichester m July 1841. This charge — the 
 first of Manning's official utterances, delivered as it was 
 on the morrow of the condemnation of Tract 90, excited 
 no little indignation at Oxford as a characteristic attempt 
 on the part of the archdeacon to clear himself from the 
 imputation of " Eomanising." Speaking for the first time 
 as one vested with authority in the Church, Manning 
 adopted in his charge the popular method on the one hand 
 of exalting the Reformation, and of blessing the Eeforraers, 
 denounced by the writers of the Tracts ; and on the other, 
 of attacking the doctrines and devotions of the Church of 
 Eome, which the Tractarians were accused of seeking to 
 introduce into the Church of England.
 
 X THE ARCHDEACON OF CHICHESTER 205 
 
 The first passage I shall quote is an account of the 
 origin of the Eeformation : — 
 
 Throughout the whole of Western Europe during the last 
 four hundred years there has been a disengaging of parts 
 and a diminution of the bulk of the visible Church. And this 
 process has been effected, I believe, partly through a direct and 
 gracious administration of God's providential government, and 
 partly by the sins and wilfulness of men. That the broad 
 movement was an impulse from Heaven is as clear, to all but 
 men inveterately blind, as that the particular direction which it 
 has here and there received is from the swervings of the human 
 ^vill. This broad movement in the Western Church had its 
 forerunning signs in a multitude of phenomena, such as the 
 sudden and amazing energies which during the fourteenth and 
 fifteenth centuries broke forth in all forms of intellectual life. 
 It is to be traced in the scholars, the doctors, the poets, the 
 painters, the statesmen, and even the common characters of 
 those ages ; — what we familiarly call the revival of letters, 
 the restoration of learning, the school of the fine arts, together 
 with the invention of printing, were themselves the symptoms of a 
 mighty power leavening and impelling the whole mass of Western 
 Europe, and becoming in turn the moral and mechanical causes of a 
 still further excitement and development of the intellectual 
 and spiritual life. Among many effects of this movement there 
 is one which we are wont most unphilosophically and untruly to 
 speak of, as if it were the main and isolated cause of all we see 
 around us : I mean the Reformation. It is a very shallow and 
 imperfect view to regard this gracious act of God's Providence 
 towards his Church as an isolated event. It was one of a series 
 of events : itself first an effect and afterwards a combining cause 
 in further consequences. In the first period there was an 
 undiscerning accumulation of things intrinsically repugnant; in 
 the latter a healthy process of severe and searching analysis. 
 The movement of intellectual life of which I have spoken was 
 doubtless a divine prelude to the recovery of truth hidden in 
 the mass. What the first delivery of the truth was (if I may 
 reverently compare things unlike in detail, but like in their 
 common origin and outline) to the after accumulation of error, 
 such was the first recovery of truth in these later times to the 
 process of domination and decay. The two originating acts — 
 the one seen, the other unseen — were manifestly of God ; but 
 the swerving and imperfection of the after consequences were 
 as evidently of men. In the first acts of both these great 
 periods God was putting his Church upon her probation ; in the
 
 206 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 after acts we see the Church moving upon the mysterious lines 
 of her trial. 
 
 After speaking of the new and extraordinary dangers 
 which are besetting the Western Church, the archdeacon 
 declares that the Reformation was not the cause but the 
 divinely prepared remedy ; then he goes on : — 
 
 It is not more certain, then, that the Reformation was a 
 gracious and searching work wrought by the purifying hand of 
 God, than that the history of Western Europe after the 
 Reformation exhibits an appalling process of declension, and a 
 strange forfeiture of the powers of truth through the mystery 
 of evil working, according to apostolic prophecy, in these latter 
 days. And these remarks are not confined to any particular 
 sects or communities abroad. They apply to all. If the 
 Rationalistic infidelity of Germany may be traced to the 
 Lutheran bodies, the sensual infidelity of France may be traced 
 to the communion of the Galilean Church. The lawlessness of 
 will and intellect is to be found in all communities, resulting 
 where there is energy, in formal heresy : where there is apathy 
 in a sullen indifi"erence, and manifesting itself in all alike by a 
 heady, highminded vindication of the absolute will of man. 
 The idea of a spiritual guide divinely commissioned to rule as 
 well as to teach, has become strange and incredible even to 
 higher and better minds : to the temper of these latter days 
 it is an insufterable usurpation, so that the powers of unbelief 
 and lawlessness are the natural and direct antagonists of the 
 faith and discipline of the Church ; and throughout the whole 
 of Western Christendom they will be found wasting away the 
 characters of truth, and trampling down the rule of spiritual 
 order.^ 
 
 Then in this charge the Archdeacon of Chichester con- 
 trasts the condition of the Church of England with that 
 of foreign Churches as follows : — 
 
 Perhaps in no country can be found so remarkable an 
 exhibition of the counteracting and remedial power of the 
 Reformation, and of the vehement tide of these latter days. 
 We have the two extremes in full and energetic action. That 
 the Anglican Church stands immovably rooted in the soil of 
 England is, under God, because she was brought back to 
 
 ^ Charge in July, 1841 pp. 11-12.
 
 X THE ARCHDEACON OF CHICHESTER 207 
 
 Apostolic truth : that she has lost some portions of her 
 administrative system, is because she has shared the strife and 
 the mutilation which all churches have endured. But no church 
 in the last three hundred years has borne what she has met 
 and overcome. She has been slain by the secular arm nerved 
 and guided by foreign enmity, and crushed by a lawless 
 rebellion kindled in domestic schisms ; she has been pampered 
 by the wily protection of civil rulers, till her own internal 
 energies were well-nigh deadened, and lured by the ease and 
 the gain of a luxurious commercial people. 
 
 After speaking of the diversities of religious opinion, 
 the multiplication of schisms, the crumbling subdivisions 
 of sects, the writer of the charge concludes his contrast of 
 foreign churches with the Church of England with the 
 following remarks : — 
 
 All foreign churches, shielded as they have been from the 
 storms which have broken upon their despised sister in England, 
 and successful in their unrelenting strife against hearts that 
 yearned for purities which they had not to give them, have 
 declined and wasted. The countries most successful against 
 the Reformation, for instance, Spain and France, are the most 
 destitute of Christianity. The most vigorous and promising 
 rekindlings of life among them (which God prosper) are partial 
 and precarious, the work of individual and often isolated minds, 
 and sustained by the energy of individual character. (This is 
 visibly true of Germany and France) but the English Church, 
 tried beyond them all, has now more than ever shown a vivid 
 and inextinguishable life which quickens with an even pulse 
 the whole of her extended system : she has retained what they 
 have visibly lost — her hold upon the nation as a people, and 
 her mastery over the highest intellectual natures.^ 
 
 The charge then dwells on the loss sustained by the 
 English Church in being deprived of her synods and 
 councils for canonical legislation. I will recite another 
 passage from the same charge, in which, after describing 
 the Eeformation as " this gracious act of God's Providence 
 towards His Church," and likening " its first recovery of 
 Truth in those latter times to the first delivery of Truth 
 by the apostles," the archdeacon lifts up his voice in 
 praise of the present state and condition of the Anglican 
 
 ^ Charge in July 1841, p. 16.
 
 208 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 Church, and utters confident prophecies as to the glorious 
 part she is to play in the future as " the centre of a new 
 Catholic world " : — 
 
 We are charged with the fulfilment of no light commission ; 
 every year has brought out into a broader outline the destiny 
 of the English Church. Can we doubt that she is reserved and 
 now is new raised up for some great movement among the nations 
 of the earth ? It may be that she shall build again the 
 tabernacle that is fallen down, and purify the Catholic world. 
 Who can be familiar with her true character and not read the 
 admonitions of her Divine Master ? Who can not see that she 
 is primitive and yet purified ; the treasury of things new and 
 old ; having the ripeness of age and vigour of a new-born 
 youth ; that she is, as it were, the link of the past and the 
 future ; a central point between the old world and the new ; 
 and how in all the inclinations of Western Christendom to one 
 or other of the great religious extremes, she has been impelled 
 forward in a middle path : and how the power of faith which 
 is on the one side, and the more positive system which is on the 
 other have both in her a share and a sympathy : and how at 
 every ebb and flow of religious life the minds of men have been 
 subdued and settled down nearer and nearer to that rule of 
 faith which was conferred and vindicated in the Anglican 
 restoration of Catholic Truth : and how at this time she is 
 standing out in a bolder relief, and stamping her own character 
 in all the world-wide precinct of the British Empire : — who, 
 I ask, can ponder these things, and not feel a consciousness 
 stronger than all reasoning, that if she be loyal to her heavenly 
 Lord, she shall be made glorious in His earthly kingdom, as 
 the regenerator of the Christendom that seems now dissolving, 
 and the centre of a new Catholic world ? ^ 
 
 This charge was delivered at a singularly opportune 
 moment. The illustrious leader of the Tractarian move- 
 ment had only just, in characteristic obedience to his 
 bishop, discontinued the Tracts for the Times. The Tracts 
 were considered objectionable by the Bishop of Oxford, as 
 tending to disturb the peace and tranquillity of the Church, 
 as unsettling and disturbing the minds of men, as showing 
 a leaning in favour of the Church of Rome, and generally 
 as weakening the authority of, and shaking confidence in, 
 the Church of England. 
 
 1 Charge in July 1841, p. 46.
 
 X THE ARCHDEACON OF CHICHESTER 209 
 
 A golden opportunity to purge himself from the errors 
 imputed to the writers of the Tracts for the Times pre- 
 sented itself to the newly -appointed Archdeacon of Chi- 
 chester, and he availed himself of it with singular avidity. 
 It was a duty not to be neglected, a chance not to be lost. 
 Not four months after the appearance of Tract 90 and its 
 condemnation by the Hebdomadal Board at Oxford ; in the 
 very midst of the popular outcry against the writers and 
 defenders of the Tracts, the archdeacon hastens, in his 
 Charge of 14th July 1841, to exalt and extol in glowing 
 terms the authority, the position in Christendom, and the 
 prospects of the Church of England, stigmatising at the 
 same time the Western Churches as " inducing to sensual 
 infidelity and as destitute of Christianity." 
 
 What more opportune and telling protest against the 
 charge of " Eomanising " the Church of England ? In that 
 day of turmoil, of blind prejudice and passion, charges of 
 insincerity, treachery, and disloyalty to the Church were 
 hurled from pulpit and platform at the heads of the writers 
 of the Tracts for the Times. Eehgious newspapers through- 
 out the country, following the lead of the Record, raved 
 like madmen about traitors in the camp, about Jesuits in 
 disguise. The daily papers, in letters and leading articles, 
 took up the parable. " Newman the traitor " w^as the 
 watchword or the war-cry of the rising religious bigotry. 
 Bishops, in their visitation charges or other utterances, 
 joined in the fray, if in language more decorous, in a spirit 
 as unfair and as uncharitable as the veriest bigots, in an 
 outcry second only in extent and vehemence to the " No 
 Popery " agitation which ten years later shook the country 
 out of its senses. Pusey, though the leader of the more 
 reserved and moderate section, threw himself with charac- 
 teristic fervour and generosity into the breach, regardless of 
 consequences. What to him were the frowns of the bishops, 
 the censure of the University authorities, or the popular 
 odium which he was held up to for his pains ? On the 
 other hand, the prudent and judicious Archdeacon of 
 Chichester, though disbelieving in popular Protestantism, 
 did not stand in the face of such a storm by the side of 
 VOL. I r
 
 210 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 the writers of the Tracts, but took his stand on the side of 
 the bishops. In adopting this policy Archdeacon Manning 
 acted not only in accordance with the natural bent of his 
 temperament, but on the conviction that his being ticketed 
 as a " Puseyite " would limit his influence and lame his 
 right hand in defence of the Moderate High Church party 
 to which he now again inclined. His favourite attitude of 
 benevolent neutrality would have availed him nothing, for 
 in that jealous day his silence would have exposed him to 
 the suspicion of being a " Eomaniser " in disguise. 
 
 Manning's glorification of the Church of England in his 
 first charge as Archdeacon of Chichester is a veritable song 
 of praise, pitched in the highest key. It is something more. 
 Delivered under the circumstances of the day when Tract 
 90 had just been formally condemned by the University 
 authorities ; when the writers of the Tracts, accused of 
 "Eomanising" tendencies, were under the ban of public repro- 
 bation, this charge of Archdeacon Manning's drew a broad 
 line of demarcation between himself and the accused Tract- 
 arians ; between his views of the Reformation and its results 
 and theirs. After his eloquent panegyric of the Anglican 
 Church in the past and his prophecy of her glorious future 
 in Christendom, who so bold as to accuse the eloquent and 
 judicious archdeacon of " Romanising " tendencies ? 
 
 In curious and striking contrast to Manning's estimate 
 of the Church of England is the judgment of men who, 
 unlike Manning, did not feel " a consciousness stronger than 
 aU reasoning " as to the blessed results of the Reformation, 
 or as to the present position of the Anglican Church. 
 
 In the first place, the Reformation which Manning 
 describes as " this gracious act of God's providence towards 
 His Church," the Tractarians denounce as " that great 
 schism which shattered the sacrament of unity." 
 
 The writer^ of Tract 34 says: "We are reformed, we 
 have come out of Babylon, and have rebuilt our Church : 
 but it is Ichabod ; the glory is departed from Israel." ^ 
 
 1 The Avriter of Tracts 34, 30, 31, and of the articles referred to in the 
 British Critic, was Newman. 
 
 2 Tracts/or the Times, Tract 30, p. 2.
 
 X THE ARCHDEACON OF CHICHESTER 211 
 
 Again, the writer of Tract 34, after stating that corrupt 
 additions were made in the Middle Ages, declares : " Yet, 
 as a whole, the Catholic ritual was a precious possession " ; 
 and he asks "whether we are not, like the Jews returned 
 from captivity, who never find the rod of Aaron or the ark 
 of the covenant, which indeed had ever been hid from the 
 world, but then was removed from the Temple itself." ^ 
 
 A writer in the British Critic, speaking of the Church 
 of England, says : — 
 
 She seemed to say at the Reformation, " Make me as one of 
 Thy hired servants," and she has been graciously taken at her 
 word ; lowered from her ancient and proper place as the " King's 
 daughter, whose clothing is of wrought gold," whose " walls the 
 sons of strangers should build," and "unto whom their kings 
 should minister," into the condition of a slave at a table where 
 she should preside. How then does " melody " suit with her 
 " heaviness " ; the songs of Zion with the fetters of Babylon ? 
 Lower strains befit her depressed condition, and with such in 
 the English Liturgy she is actually provided.- 
 
 Again : " The Church has sullied her baptismal robe of 
 unity ; she is not permitted to come into the Divine pres- 
 ence ; nor, when admitted, is she privileged to raise her 
 voice in the language of joy and confidence, without many 
 a faltering note of fear and self-reproach." And, as a 
 consequence, " the tone of our services has been simul- 
 taneously lowered." ^ 
 
 In his letter to the Eev. R. W. Jelf, in explanation of 
 Tract 90, just" condemned by the four tutors, what does 
 Newman say of the Church of Eome, which just four 
 months afterwards Manning describes in Chichester Cathe- 
 dral as " inducing to sensual infidelity " and as " destitute 
 of Christianity " ? 
 
 The age is moving towards something, and most unhappily 
 the one religious communion among us which has of late years 
 been practically in possession of this something, is the Church 
 of Eome. She alone, amid all the errors and evils of her prac- 
 
 ^ Tract 34, p. 7. " British Critic, vol. xxvii. p. 254. 
 
 3 Ibid. p. 255.
 
 212 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 tical system, has given free scope to the feelings of awe, mystery, 
 tenderness, reverence, devotedness, and other feelings which 
 may be especially called catholic.^ 
 
 Let me note another statement in this letter as to the 
 state and condition of the Anglican Church at that time. 
 The letter was dated 13th March 1841. 
 
 Of course I should rejoice if the members of our Church were 
 all of one mind, but they are not ; and till they are, one can 
 but submit to what is at present the will or rather the chastise- 
 ment of Providence.^ 
 
 This idea is expressed with still greater force in Tract 
 90 itself: — 
 
 We can do nothing well till we act " with one accord " ; we 
 can have no accord in action till we agree together in heart ; 
 we cannot agree without a supernatural influence, we cannot 
 have a supernatural influence unless we pray for it ; we cannot 
 pray acceptably without repentance and confession.^ 
 
 The writer of Tract 90, after insisting that unless the 
 Anglican Church be " at unity with itself " ; that " till we 
 seek one another as brethren . . . not from an ill-regu- 
 lated, untrue desire of unity, but returning to each other in 
 heart, and coming together to God to do for us what we 
 cannot do for ourselves, no change can be for the better," 
 then comes to the following conclusion : — 
 
 Till we, her children, are stirred up to this religious course, 
 let the Church, our mother, sit still ; let her children be content 
 to be in bondage ; let us work in chains ; let us submit to our 
 imperfections as a punishment ; let us go on teaching Avith the 
 stammering lips of ambiguous formularies, and inconsistent pre- 
 cedents, and principles but partially developed. We are not 
 better than our fathers ; let us not faint under that body of 
 death, which they bore about in patience ; nor shrink from the 
 penalty of sins Avhich they inherited from the age before them.* 
 
 Again, in the preceding page : — 
 
 ^ A letter addressed to the Rev. R. W. Jelf, D.D., Canon of Christ Church, 
 in explanation of tlie ninetieth tract in the series called the Tracts for the 
 Times, 1841, p. 372. - Ibid. p. 373. 
 
 ' Tract 90, Introduction, p. 263. Via Media of the Anglican Church, voL 
 ii. 1877. * Ibid.
 
 X THE ARCHDEACON OF CHICHESTER 213 
 
 Moreover, it is a very serious truth, that persons and bodies 
 who put themselves into a disadvantageous state, cannot at 
 their pleasure extricate themselves from it. They are unworthy 
 of release ; they are in prison, and Christ is its Keeper. There 
 is but one way towards a real reformation — a return to Him in 
 heart and spirit, whose sacred truth they have betrayed. All 
 other methods, however fair they may promise, will prove to be 
 but shadows and failures.^ 
 
 The picture given in Tract 90 of the Anglican Church 
 divided against itself, " part against part " ; in bondage ; 
 working in chains ; teaching with stammering lips ; bearing 
 up in patience under that body of death — the penalty of 
 sins ; living under the chastisement of Providence, is nearer 
 the mark, as every one, I think, will admit, than Arch- 
 deacon Manning's eulogistic description of the Church of 
 England as " the regenerator," not of England only, but " of 
 Christendom," " as the centre," not of Protestantism but 
 " of a new Catholic world." 
 
 In his charge delivered in the following year (1842) 
 Archdeacon Manning repudiates in still more emphatic 
 terms all connection with any party in the Church, and 
 emphasises once more his extreme aversion at being called 
 any man's follower. The popular outcry against the Tract- 
 arians, far from abating, had waxed still more furious ; for 
 the ultra - Protestant party had been provoked beyond 
 measure by the bold defence of the principles advanced in 
 the Tracts for the Times, and especially of Tract 90, by 
 such writers as Pusey, Keble, and Ward. It was not by 
 the Record only in that day of abounding controversy, 
 of arguments and counter - arguments, that Archdeacon 
 Manning's name was coupled with the unpopular party. 
 To vindicate himself from this imputation ; to throw cold 
 water — he was not a bad hand at that chilling process — 
 on the hot-headed defenders of Tract 90, Pusey, Ward, and 
 the rest of them, the archdeacon, in his Charge,^ says : — 
 
 This, then, is no season for controversy. . . . All things 
 
 1 Tract 90, Introduction, p. 262. 
 
 - A Charge delivered at the ordinary Visitation of the Arclideacon of 
 Chichester in July 1842.
 
 214 CARDINAL MANNING chap, x 
 
 about us are too living and real, too full of trial and of responsi- 
 bility and of the judgments to come, to suffer us to be men of 
 arguments and replies and rejoinders. In the bitterest age of 
 controversy we may be safe if we will, for there can be no fight 
 where there is only one combatant. We have our safety in our 
 own hands. Let each man speak the truth as he believes it : if 
 we agree, God be praised ; if not, let us " speak it in love " : 
 quick tempers, keen tongues, sharp sayings, are not of God.^ 
 
 But as time went on sharp sayings were repeated and 
 tongues grew keener, and the name of Archdeacon IManning 
 was again and again bracketed with that of Pusey. In 
 his Charge of 1843, Manning repudiated still more em- 
 phatically connection with Newman or Pusey in the 
 following significant passage : — 
 
 Be it that there are heard sharp and discordant voices, even 
 among oiu" teachers. What matters it to us, who are called by 
 no man's name ; to us who have no ride of truth, but " the 
 faith once delivered to the saints " ? " Nemo me dicat, quid 
 dixit Donatus, quid dixit Parmenianus, aut Pontius, aut qui- 
 libet illorum : quia nee Catholicis Episcopis consentiendum est, 
 sicubi forte fallantur, ut contra Canonicas Dei Scripturas aliquid 
 sentiant." ^ 
 
 What do these words of St. Augustine mean in the 
 mouth of Archdeacon Manning but virtually this : — 
 " Let no man call me a follower of Newman, a follower of 
 Pusey, or of Ward, or of any other of them : for did I not 
 take my stand by the side of the protesting bishops in con- 
 demning Tract 90, as contrary to the sacred Scriptures and 
 to the Thirty-nine Articles " ? 
 
 ^ A Charge delivered at the ordinary Visitation of the Archdeacon of 
 Chichester in July 1842, p. 46. 
 
 - A Charge delivered in July 1843.
 
 CHAPTEE XI 
 
 manning's relations with NEWMAN AND THE 
 TRACTARIAN PARTY 
 
 1836-1845 
 
 There was no peace for Manning as an Anglican. Events 
 were against him. His aspirations, by no fault of his own, 
 were doomed to disappointment. The angry temper of the 
 times destroyed all hope or chance of his being permitted 
 in " a higher sphere of usefulness " to carry out his far- 
 reaching and benevolent design of reconciling the conflicting 
 parties in the Church. The undiscriminating eye of ultra- 
 Protestantism refused, in spite of all his efforts, to draw a 
 distinguishing hne between himself and the Puseyites. The 
 unlucky Archdeacon of Chichester, do what he would, could 
 not escape from the undeserved penalty of such an association. 
 He suffered for the sins of others. His way seemed 
 blocked, or his foot was entangled, or his heart was at 
 fault in that day of " declension." Or it may be that God 
 crossed his hands as He did Jacob's, 
 
 In the year 1843 the illustrious leader of the Oxford 
 Movement retired to Littlemore ; the hearts of men trembled 
 with fear ; despondency if not despair fell upon the Tractarian 
 party, not at Oxford only, but throughout England. Men felt 
 or feared that his retirement was the prelude to joining the 
 Church of Ptome. Controversy broke out with fresh fury. 
 The ultra -Protestants were beside themselves with rage. 
 From pulpit and platform a torrent of abuse descended on 
 the luckless Tractarians. Bishop after bishop rose up to 
 denounce the stealthy advances of Ptome at Oxford : " Can't
 
 •216 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 you let it alone ? " Manning, in the words of Lord Melbourne 
 to his reforming colleagues, would have exhorted the 
 denouncing bishops, had he dared so far to commit himself ; 
 for the peace - loving Archdeacon would have gladly- 
 remained on good terms with both parties in the Church. 
 
 Peace, however, was not to be his lot, for the Record, 
 mindful of " his apostasy from Gospel truth," would not let 
 him alone. His persistent endeavours to clear himself from 
 the stigma of Tractarianism were made in vain in that day 
 of Protestant suspicion and jealousy. His Protestantism no 
 longer bore the imprimatur of the Record. That jealous 
 watchman of the Evangelical party ever kept a weather-eye 
 open ; looked out in every dii-ection for tokens and forecasts 
 of the coming disturbance — of the approach of that storm- 
 centre — which Newman's retirement to Littlemore foreboded ; 
 looked out even in the serene direction of Chichester. 
 In October 1843, the Record made a discovery: — 
 
 Our readers will remark in the report of the meeting of the 
 Chichester Diocesan Society, a somewhat novel addition to the 
 usual proceedings of such anniversaries, namely, that not only 
 was a sermon preached, but the sacrament administered, as the 
 report states, to a great number (260) of the clergy of the 
 diocese with some of the laity. They would also remark that 
 Mr. Archdeacon Manning, one of the most noted and determined 
 of the Tractarians, . . . acted a conspicuous part on the 
 occasion. 1 
 
 In vain, then, aU. the tact, gentleness, and prudence of the 
 archdeacon ; they availed him not in that evil hour. He, 
 who by temperament as well as out of policy, hated to be 
 " ticketed " as any man's follower, was now gibbeted by the 
 Record as a Tractarian. No doubt the back of the Record 
 was put up on that occasion by the knowledge that a more 
 frequent, if not as yet daily celebration of the eucharist, was 
 a common practice, if not indeed in Lavington Church, in 
 churches like that of All Saints, Margaret Street, for instance, 
 where Tractarians of that date, like Frederick Oakeley, were 
 carrying out into practice the principles they had learnt 
 
 1 The Record, October 1 843.
 
 XI RELATIONS WITH NEWMAN AND THE TRACTARIANS 217 
 
 from their illustrious leader in the early stages of the 
 Tractarian movement at Oxford. 
 
 The administration of the sacrament in Chichester 
 Cathedral on a week day was what the Record objected to, 
 and stigmatised as Tractarian, for it complains — 
 
 That the demi-popish views held by the Tractarian party 
 on the subject of the eucharist, coupled with the fact, that "the 
 assembling together to eat bread " not on " the first day of the 
 week," according to apostolic example, but on another day, was, 
 no doubt, the work of those troublers of our Israel. 
 
 It was not in the nature of Archdeacon Manning to 
 enter into a controversy with a newspaper as to his religious 
 opinions. He bided his time. Girding up his loins, he 
 made a supreme effort to clear himself once for all of the 
 charge of " Eomanising tendencies," so damaging to his 
 position and prospects. To preach an ultra - Protestant 
 sermon on Guy Fawkes' day was a daring and desperate 
 stroke of diplomacy. But Manning, counting the cost, was 
 equal to the occasion. 
 
 To understand aright the effect produced at Oxford by 
 Manning's Fifth of November sermon, delivered in 1843, 
 and the motives which induced him to issue such a mani- 
 festo of his religious opinions, it is necessary to inquire more 
 closely not only into Manning's relations, early and late, with 
 Newman and the Tractarian party, but into his own state of 
 mind as laid bare in his private letters. That state of mind, 
 those relations, are no longer a sealed book, a tale untold. 
 The seal is removed. The whole story in all its variations and 
 vicissitudes is to be found set forth for the first time to-day 
 in his intimate correspondence with S. F. Wood of Oriel, 
 his earliest and closest friend ; with Dodsworth, with Keble, 
 with Mr. Gladstone, with Ptobert Wilberforce and Lapri- 
 maudaye, and, in the years 1836-40, with Newman himself. 
 All these letters, literally to be counted by hundreds, which 
 cover the whole period of his Anghcan life, tell the full tale 
 of his religious changes and fluctuations ; and lay bare, more 
 especially those to Robert Wilberforce, the inmost secrets of 
 his heart and soul. In this chapter, however, I have only
 
 218 CARDINAL MANNING ohap. 
 
 tx) deal with Manning's relations to Newman and the Tract- 
 arian party from 1836 to 1845. It was not until after 
 1845 — after Newman's conversion, that, in his letters to 
 Laprimaudaye and Eobert Wilberforce, ]\Ianning confessed 
 the doubts and difficulties which had long beset his heart. ^ 
 
 In 1836-37, however, before definitely breaking with 
 the Evangelicals, Manning made some tentative approaches 
 to the already recognised leader of the Tractarian move- 
 ment. The dull routine of parish work among 
 agricultural labourers and shepherds in a small Sussex 
 village did not sufiice for the energies, or satisfy the 
 literary aspirations, of the young Rector of Lavington. 
 He was naturally and rightly on the look-out for a wider 
 field of activity ; Evangelicalism as a system religious and 
 literary had lost its hold upon his mind.- The Oxford 
 Movement was in the ascendant. The Tracts for 
 the Times held the field. The literary as well as the 
 religious world was aroused. The intellectual and moral 
 atmosphere of the day made it imperative on all those, who 
 wished to be heard, to take sides ; to cast in their lot with one 
 camp or the other. S. F. Wood, who at Oriel had been on 
 friendly terms with Newman, and was Manning's most 
 intimate friend, brought Manning and Newman into com- 
 munication. In a letter, dated 23rd October 1836, from the 
 Temple, where he was studying law, Wood brings for the 
 first time the Tracts for the Times under Manning's favour- 
 able notice ; for hitherto the Rector of Lavington knew 
 nothing about the Tracts except what he had learnt from 
 the hostile and abusive columns of the Record, to which 
 paper he was a regular subscriber. Wood writes : — 
 
 Newman passed through to\vn last week in good heahh and 
 spirits, having been careering about among his friends and dis- 
 seminating his apostolical tracts. You should read his two 
 tracts, called Via Media, which give one a better insight into 
 his views than anything else. As matters of fact and history I 
 
 ^ Vidx Letters to Laprimaudaye and Robert Wilberforce, 1847-50. 
 
 - In an autobiographical Note, dated 1880, Cardinal Manning said : — I 
 ■was not long in seeing that the Bible alone was an untenable position ; and 
 I saw at once (in 1838'> the need of tradition as an interpreter of Scripture.
 
 XI RELATIONS WITH NEAVMAN AND THE TRACTARIANS 219 
 
 take tliem to be quite true, and agree with them entirely — as to 
 several of his positions and inferences I have great doubts. But 
 I cannot express my dissent adequately in my remaining space ; 
 let it be reserved for our meeting.^ 
 
 Acting on Wood's suggestion, Manning began to read 
 the Tracts for the Times. In the following year he offered 
 his services to Newman as translator of Pearson's Vindicice 
 and his offer was accepted. 
 
 From the extracts which Newman had kept of Manning's 
 letters of that date — and which have been placed at my 
 disposal — I give the following : — 
 
 Extract. — From the Eev. H. E. Manning to J. H. Newman. 
 
 Lavington, "tth Aiml 1835. 
 
 I am half ashamed to write now, as I have to confess my 
 default of an engagement ; I mean respecting Pearson's Vindicice. 
 I took it to Hastings with a redhot intention to translate and 
 accomplished about a third of the work, but either the moisture of 
 the atmosphere, or the agreeable conversation of my friend, Mr. 
 Raikes, caused me to cool and relax — but I sincerely intend to do 
 my best. 
 
 In another letter Manning wrote as follows : — 
 
 Extract. — From the Rev. H. E. Manning to J. H. Newman. 
 
 I5th September 1835. 
 
 I have never finished the chapter in Bishop Pearson's ; and 
 thinking the Episcopal enough advanced, will leave it. I have been 
 reading Vincentius Lerinensis ; and have thought of trying to 
 
 1 The following passage in Wood's letter to Manning reads like ancient 
 history ; yet, if the burning of the Houses of Parliament belongs to the dead 
 past, Newman and the Tractarian movement still possess a living and present 
 interest. "No one here talks of anything but the great fire ; I witnessed it 
 for some hours, and 1 shall never forget the majestic sight of the old Abbey 
 looking calm and stately down on the bright flames, which illuminated every 
 minute point of tracery with a silver light, or the lurid cloud of smoke 
 rolling over the river, the banks of which were crowded to excess. The loss is 
 principally pecuniary and reparable." In another passage Wood writes : — " I 
 trust you have been and will be spared as to the cholera at Lavington ; it has 
 been at Farleigh, and poor Wilson (of Oriel), first year of his ministry, has 
 encountered it. But it has pleased God to assuage its violence, and I believe 
 it has nearly subsided. " The cholera or its younger sister influenza is not 
 ancient history, it is always with us.
 
 220 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 put something together about tradition, its use, authority, and 
 limit in the Church of Christ, with an application to the Church 
 of England, showing how much we necessarily and unconsciously 
 depend on it, while we anathematise it in Popery. 
 
 The result of this study of St. Vincent of Lerins was 
 Manning's first published sermon " The English Church, its 
 Succession and Witness for Christ." This sermon was not 
 much to the taste of the extreme Low Church party, who 
 had hoped better things from the pious Rector of Lavington ; 
 from the zealous Secretary of the Foreign Bible Society. 
 Manning was somewhat roughly handled by a certain Mr. 
 Osburn, notorious for his profanity, whom Newman describes 
 as too vile to touch with a pair of tongs. 
 
 S. F. Wood ^ whom I do not hesitate to describe as 
 Manning's " good angel," was not only a man of intellectual 
 power, but of a highly spiritual nature. He combined the 
 personal piety and love of our Lord which was the redeem- 
 ing feature of the Evangelical school at its best, with an 
 absorbing desire for dogmatic truth, and a profound con- 
 viction of its vital necessity in religion. It was this 
 conviction which had converted him — and was converting 
 Manning — from their early Evangelicalism and was bringing 
 them both alike under Newman's influence. If Miss Bevan, 
 who gathered him in his undergraduate days, like a lost sheep, 
 into the Evangelical fold, was Manning's spiritual mother, 
 S. F. Wood was undoubtedly his spiritual father, who brought 
 him out of the slough of Evangelicalism into the higher ways 
 of Anglo-Catholic tradition and teaching, which in the end led 
 the pilgrim, after many sore trials and many a backsliding, 
 to Rome, to the threshold of the Apostles. 
 
 In the following letter. Wood explains to Manning the 
 
 1 S. F. Wood, of Oriel, was a younger brother of Sir Charles "Wood, 
 Chancellor of the Exchequer, afterwards created Lord Halifax. S. F. Wood, 
 who had a great desire to be a clergyman, but was overruled by his family, 
 was, at the time of his intimacy with Manning, studying for the bar at the 
 Temple. S. F. Wood died in 1843, a few months before Newman's retire- 
 ment to Littlemore. He described, in a letter to Manning, the community at 
 Littlemorc as a sort of monastic establishment, very pious and edifying, and 
 withal very cheerful and hospitable ; adding, " I wish you could see the 
 community at Littlemore."
 
 XI RELATIONS WITH NEWMAN AND THE TRACTARIANS 221 
 
 doctrines held by Newman as constituting the basis of the 
 Tractarian system. At the same time he expresses his 
 difficulty in agreeing with Newman's repudiation of the 
 Eeformers and their work ; and seeks on this subject 
 Manning's advice and guidance : — 
 
 Temple, Wednesday, 29th January 1836. 
 
 My dear Manning — During part of last and of the present 
 week I have enjoyed the great privilege of having Newman 
 living in my chambers, and I believe you will receive a paper 
 from him in this cover about the Oxford Tracts, and also about 
 a plan of Dodsworth's for getting up a spring lecture on Church 
 matters in London. Of course Newman and I have had a great 
 deal of interesting talk together, one result of which has been to 
 confirm certain points of the view about Church teaching, etc. 
 etc., I lately sent you, and to convince and satisfy me that it is 
 not mere matter of idle speculation, but involves practical con- 
 sequences of very great weight in our present condition, and 
 about which I earnestly wish to confer with you above all other 
 persons. And in the outset I must beseech you not to com- 
 municate the sentiments herein contained to anyone in their 
 present shape : (1st) because, though I am confident I state the 
 substance or tendency of Newman's opinion accurately, I would 
 not pledge him to anything thrown out to a friend ; and (2nd) 
 because I am most anxious to avoid the semblance of a difference 
 between those who hold so much in common, and who may so 
 usefully co-operate together, 
 
 I will begin by professing my entire and cordial and active 
 assent to all the great features of their system — to the apostolical 
 succession, to the virtue and efficiency derived therefrom in the 
 sacraments, to their view of the sacraments themselves, to the 
 reverence due to antiquity and Catholicism ; and by owning that 
 the times require the most prominent assertion of them. But I 
 had hoped that the high Evangelical doctrines, delivered from 
 the exaggerated and distorted guise in which some had dressed 
 them, and reduced to their true position in the system, would 
 have been allowed a place therein. 
 
 I grieve to think that I have discovered in one person at 
 least a violent repugnance to them, and to justify this an adoption 
 of principles which go so far (as to be available they must) that 
 they have at least this advantage, viz. they open one's eyes to 
 their unsoundness. I will first state what they are, (1) Newman 
 holds that from the time the Church ceased to be one, the right 
 of any part of it to propound articles of faith, as such, is sus-
 
 222 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 pended ; all that remains to them is to impose terms of com- 
 munion, articles of peace, etc. Further, he says that before the 
 Reformation the Church never deduced any doctrine from 
 Scripture, and by inference blames our reformers for doing so, 
 moreover he objects to their doctrine in itself as to justificatiou 
 by faith, and complains of their attempt to prove it from the 
 Fathers, as a perversion of their meaning. Generally, his result 
 is, not merely to refer us to antiquity but to shut us itp in it, and 
 to deprive, not only individuals but the Church of all those 
 doctrines of Scripture not fully commented on by the Fathers ; 
 and he seems to consider that our Reformed Church has erred as 
 much in one direction as the Council of Trent in another ; and 
 that the fact of other churches holding different views — e.g. on 
 justification — requires the suspension of our judgment, or at least 
 prevents full acceptance of our own doctrine concerning it. 
 
 Surely in thoughts like these one may see glimpses of a 
 beautiful and comprehensive system, which, holding fast primitive 
 antiquity on the one hand, does not reject the later teaching of 
 the Church on the other, but bringing out of its stores things 
 new and old, is eminently calculated to break up existing parties 
 in the Church, and unite the children of light against those of 
 darkness. 
 
 I have endeavoured in vain to gain an entrance into Newman's 
 mind on this subject, and have tried each joint of his intellectual 
 panoply, but its hard and polished temper glances off all my 
 arrows. Still I feel so fully the truth and importance of all the 
 positive parts of his system, that it does not at all damp my 
 devotion to it. And I try not to be restless or anxious about 
 such difficulties, but wait calmly in the sure trust that if any of 
 us be otherwise minded, God will reveal this also unto us. You 
 cannot conceive what satisfaction it will give me to know your 
 sentiments and hear your counsel on this matter. I trust and 
 believe that what I object to in Newman is merely owing to his 
 resiliency from opposite error, and that Pusey and others do not 
 share it. And I am sure he will not seek to put forward such 
 views : and this is another reason why I earnestly entreat this 
 subject may be confined to our two selves. — Ever your affectionate 
 friend, S. F. Wood. 
 
 In reply to this letter, Manning, who had a profound 
 belief in the divine origin of the Reformation and in the 
 apostolic work of the first Reformers, laid down such strong 
 arguments in their favour as to have completely satisfied 
 Wood, at any rate for a time, for in a subsequent letter he
 
 XI RELATIONS WITH NEWMAN AND THE TRACTARIANS 223 
 
 thanks Manning for his admirable explanations, and ends 
 by declaring that, " I will knock under to the advice given." 
 In the same letter he tells Manning that, in reply to his 
 appeal for help and advice, Newman is about sending a 
 letter to him on the Eev. Mr. Osburn and the best way 
 of meeting the attacks of others brought against the sermon 
 on Apostolic Succession. 
 
 The following are the chief passages from Newman's 
 letter : — 
 
 Oriel College, Ath September 1836. 
 
 My dear Manning — I condole with you amid your numerous 
 antagonists, though I do not think they are very frightful ones, 
 if we are but a little active. 
 
 As to Mr. Osburn, he is so insufferably profane that I cannot 
 help thinking that if that and one remark which you are familiar 
 with be put before well-disposed people, they would eschew him 
 and his opinions. My first remark then would be that " Mr. 
 Osburn accuses St. Barnabas, apostle and martyr, of silliness, 
 weakness, obscenity," etc. etc. Is not this quite enough to over- 
 throw his whole book with any clergyman, if not layman ? "Well, 
 all that will remain then is the impression that : " these Fathers 
 are strange men after all, Platonists," etc. etc. Now to this I 
 would merely direct attention, that " we take them simply as 
 witnesses to an existing state of things, and we do not go by the 
 testimony (much less the opinion) of one, but the joint witness 
 of alV^ ... I think some simple statement of this kind would 
 (as you wish) do good ; but where is it to appear ? I should 
 have liked to have done it for the Criiic, but it has already 
 reviewed Mr. O.'s book; it would be too long for the British 
 Magazine, unsuitable for the Tracts, and Mr. 0. is too vile and 
 abominable (viewed as an author) to touch with a pair of tongs 
 in proprid persona. However, if you can suggest anything, I 
 should feel obliged to you to let me hear from you. 
 
 In another letter, dated Oriel, 10th September 1836, 
 Newman wrote as follows : — 
 
 My dear Manning — As to the Record, they certainly have 
 misrepresented Pusey grossly, but I have great confidence in the 
 truth — Veritas prmvalebit. Where truth is it may be obscured, 
 but it must make way, and its doing so is but a matter of time. 
 Sooner or later not Pusey only, but the Fathers must be under- 
 stood, at least as what they are in matter of fact. People may 
 not agree with them, but at least will not misrepresent them.
 
 224 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 What an advance in this respect have we ah'eady made. Two 
 years ago whoever professed [e.g.) baptismal regeneration was a 
 worldly man ; now he is a bigot, a mistaken Jewish zealot. This 
 is a gain. Two years ago a High Churchman was an undiluted 
 seducer and belly-god. Now the Record talks of a " fusion," 
 and evidently fears the good mixed with evil, as it considers our 
 doctrine. Here again is gain. 
 
 At the same time did you know any one who had sufficient 
 influence with the Record to get inserted in that paper a short 
 statement from Pusey in answer to its misrepresentations, I 
 should like uncommonly to send it to him for insertion. Dr. 
 Wiseman ^ will do us no harm at all. I think not. For myself, 
 I am writing (I suppose) a book on the Anglican system, which 
 indirectly, of course, answers him as far as we are concerned. — 
 Ever yours most truly, John H. Newman. 
 
 In the following year, 1837, there is another letter from 
 Newman in reply to a suggestion of Manning's readiness to 
 take part in the translation of the Fathers, a work on which 
 the Tractarians were then busily engaged. Newman says : — 
 
 Justin is taken by this time. I believe we do not intend to 
 publish Chrysostom on St. John, but Aiigustin. Heurtley of 
 C. C. C. has taken it. Are you disposed for Optatus ? I suppose 
 not. Let me hear again from you when you have any view. 
 
 In another passage of this letter Newman wrote confi- 
 dentially about himself: — 
 
 My book, I expect, will be out next Wednesday. It is an 
 anxious thing. I have to deal with facts so much more than in 
 writing sermons, and facts which touch people to the quick. 
 With all my care I may have made some floors, and I am aware 
 that I deserve no mercy from your Protestants, and if they read 
 me shall find none. Then, again, the Via Media is ever between 
 the cross fires of Papists and Protestants. 
 
 Some one here is writing against Keble's sermon. Pusey is 
 in the thick of a hail-storm. Really it is astonishing hitherto 
 how well I have escaped. My turn will come. The amusing 
 thing is that the unfortunate Peculiars are attacked on so many 
 sides at once that they are quite out of breath with having to 
 run about to defend their walls — tradition, baptism, apostolical 
 
 ^ An allusion to Wiseman's controversial lectures, over which Manning 
 was much exercised in spirit ; see his Letter to the British Magazine; 
 or S. F. Wood's comments, pp. 118-9.
 
 XI RELATIONS WITH NEWMAN AND THE TRACTARIANS 225 
 
 succession, faith, and works, etc. etc. No sooner do they recover 
 their breath after one blow but they receive another in their 
 stomach. 
 
 I have made good use of your references in the forthcoming 
 Catena. The Tracts have latterly taken to selling so well that 
 Rivington has recommended in future printing double editions. 
 
 As far as I have an opinion, I consider Antichrist to be a 
 person, yet future. 
 
 The Lyra has already come to a second edition. — Ever yours 
 very sincerely, John H. Newjvian. 
 
 This correspondence shows the growing influence which 
 Newman and the Tractarian movement were exercising over 
 Manning's mind. In the following years, 1838-40, when 
 Tractarianism was advancing " by leaps and bounds," and 
 making itself felt not in Oxford only, but throughout the 
 country, Manning cast in his lot with the Tractarian party, 
 and took part, according to the measure of his abilities and 
 opportunities, in the Oxford Movement. 
 
 The work of translation for Pusey's Library of the Fathers, 
 which Newman had entrusted to Manning, was interrupted 
 by the death of his wife. 
 
 The only allusion to his wife's death, excepting the bare 
 announcement of the fact in a letter to Mr. Gladstone, to be 
 found in the whole of Manning's correspondence, was in a 
 letter to Newman, dated 26th October 1837, which has' 
 already been given. 
 
 In the same letter, Manning asks Newman's advice about 
 the Additional Curates' Fund, saying: — 
 
 I am not without hope that the Bishop of Chichester (Otter) 
 may adopt the plan, and make a diocesan fund from the collected 
 offertory of his whole flock. This would be very primitive and 
 encouraging to Catholic practices. . . . 
 
 The letter then touches on another point : — 
 
 The next point on which I wish to hear from you is about 
 Convocation. An amendment will be moved, if not by Mozley's 
 proctor, by somebody. But what should be its nature ? Should it 
 be (1) For a dissolution of the Commission ? (2) For a reconstruc- 
 tion of the Commission ? (3) For licence to debate in Convocation ? 
 
 VOL. I Q
 
 226 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 (4) or, For a provincial council 1 Stare super antiquas vias. Pray 
 let me know your mind about it. I wish you would come to 
 London at the time Convocation meets. I am very much afraid 
 of some serious committal of the Convocation to a false principle. 
 The Dean of Chichester (the last prolocutor) told me that two 
 years ago, that is, before the Commission, the Lower House almost 
 clashed Avith the bishops in an amendment on the Address, which 
 was too liberal and reforming, and he expects a thorough collision 
 this time. Write to me as soon as you can about this. . . . 
 
 I have been very much interested with your papers in the 
 British Magazine about Convocation. I wish you would reprint 
 them in any cheap shape, or print a pamphlet about it just now. 
 The idea of the development of the Church principle by the civil 
 power I never saw put so clearly. I am only sorry it is so short. 
 Can you find time to put together precedents of the changes 
 proposed by the Ecclesiastical Commission by canonical means, 
 before Henry VHL as an act of the Church, and since by her 
 consent ? How used they to carry out such alterations ? 
 
 I hope you will excuse this illegible letter, as I am writing on 
 my knees with a heavy cold. — Believe me, my dear Newman, 
 ever yours affectionately, H. E. Manning. 
 
 I am quoting these letters not so much on account of 
 their intrinsic interest as to show Manning's friendly rela- 
 tions at the time with Newman ; and how, before he had as 
 yet publicly broken with the Evangelical party, he was 
 imbibing the principles of Tractarianism at the fountain- 
 head. 
 
 Indeed, earlier in the year 1837 Manning made, if I 
 may so call it, a profession of faith in Newman and Pusey, 
 the joint-leaders at that time of the Tractarian movement. 
 In acknowledging Manning's profession, in a letter dated 
 Oriel College, 12th April 1837, Newman wrote as follows : — 
 
 Oriel College, lith April 1837. 
 
 My dear Manning — Anderdon's ^ return reminds me I ought 
 long before this to have acknowledged your last very kind letter, 
 for which I sincerely thank you. It was quite unnecessary 
 though, as far as it expressed your friendly feelings to Pusey 
 and myself. Such expressions it is always a privilege to receive 
 — and considering how much one has to go through, which 
 
 ^ Mr. Anderdon was a relative of Manning's brother-in-law, John Ia 
 Anderdon.
 
 XI RELATIONS WITH NEWMAN AND THE TRACTARIANS 227 
 
 perhaps persons like yourself partly escape from your country 
 life, not lightly to be prized. We have had a good deal of 
 anxiety and trouble about the translations — persons failing us, 
 etc. — if that caused me to write at all hastily to you, I am very 
 sorry for it — though writing is so very untrue a representation 
 of oneself, that I sometimes doubt whether one should be sorry 
 or pleased at anything one has written, as if the animus was 
 everything. I now understand you have taken Justin for good 
 — as to Chrysostom, I do not think it would be wise for you or 
 for us to settle between us anything about it prospectively, 
 while you have another in hand. There is difficulty enough 
 in arranging what is present, without anticipating the future. 
 We trust St. Austen's Confessions will appear the first of August ; 
 Pusey has found a translator he likes so much, that, Henry 
 Wilberforce having made the offer of taking the Letters instead, 
 the coincidence decided us on publishing what was ready to our 
 hands — which we shall now do when we can. I suppose a 
 volume of Chrysostom will come out 1st October — if we can get 
 our various translators to hear — else Cyril of Jerusalem — and 
 then we hope to continue quarterly. 
 
 On looking at your letter, I see you ask about Justin's 
 Apologies, this was our difiiculty in publishing it, and occasioned 
 my not answering your letter in October — we did not know 
 what to do as regards Mr. Chevallier. Nor have we got over the 
 diflftculty. We had rather not be in it. But I suppose it must 
 take its chance. An edition of the whole of a Father's works is 
 no interference with a work selecting a particular tract. As to 
 Reeve's translation. If you have it, it would be best to 
 use it, i.e. in whole or as a basis, according to yom- judgment. 
 Sometimes we have found these translations so diffuse as to be 
 useless. 
 
 I do not know that I have anything else to say, except, 
 what I trust there is no need of saying, that I am, my dear 
 Manning, most sincerely yours, John H. Newman. 
 
 The death of his wife in the summer of this year 
 interrupted Manning's communications with Newman and 
 the Tractarian party ; but in the spring of the following 
 year the Rector of Lavington resumed his correspondence : — 
 
 Lavington, 2nd March 1838. 
 
 My DEAR Newman — I have fulfilled to the best of my power 
 the promise I gave about Justin — but with a difficulty I can 
 hardly tell you. So many personal and family feelings hampered 
 me that I have altogether failed. Many things I think I ought
 
 228 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 to have said, I felt unable to say, and many things I have said 
 ought perhaps to be omitted. I would gladly have escaped it, 
 but having pledged myself I would not fail if I could help it. 
 I have only to beg that you will unsparingly handle it — and if 
 you find yourself able to do ■vvithout it that you will keep it 
 back. The more closely that I have read his journals, the more 
 I have felt the miserable state to which the Church was then 
 reduced — I was altogether afraid of touching the school of 
 theology, for there seems an unfeelingness in raising a strife 
 over the relics of the saints, which reminds me of a passage in 
 Saint Jude's Epistle. So much \^'ith the article which you ^vill 
 use as you think best. . . . My bishop excessively wishes to 
 establish in Chichester a college for candidates for Holy Orders 
 — to take them for six or twelve months, and indoctrinate, and 
 break them in. He has begged me to think of some scheme — 
 I can only think of a lease of a house, and a few sets of rooms, 
 and some good Catholic who will live on £100 a year to poison 
 them up to the cro^vn of their heads. 
 
 I am afraid the article is a specimen of the e^ 5v fj-rj e^^L — 
 something like the posthumous praises of the Egyptian kings. 
 At first I intended to put in many passages about the heathenism 
 of the European Government, etc., in India — and have got some 
 stuff ready for it. I left it out because it would not come in 
 without breaking up the rest, so I will look out for some text 
 hereafter. I have forgotten to say that I have read Froude's 
 Remains with exceeding interest and pleasure. I had little idea 
 of what he was until now. The preface is as bold as it is good. 
 The Record has been remotely insinuating some heresy against 
 you, I think from your Arianism. — Believe me, dear Newman, 
 ever yours affectionately, H. E. M. 
 
 To this letter came the following reply : — 
 
 Oriel College, 6th March 1838. 
 
 My DEAR Manning — I feel very much obliged by your 
 article, which came quite safe. I send it to-night to the press. 
 You will have a proof of it. I only regret it is so short, for it 
 is very good and impressive. One or two Avords I have left out, 
 but very few. The only observation I have to make on it, is 
 that it has somewhat too many quotations for a review. Two I 
 have thought you would let me omit. One is A Kempis's — not 
 that I did not like it, but because I thought it could be easiest 
 spared, — the other the lines from the Lyra, as having appeared 
 in the last number. There is a quotation from Saint Austen 
 which will not come down to you, but which, perhaps, you will
 
 XI RELATIONS WITH NEWMAN AND THE TRACTARIANS 229 
 
 be so kind as to put in, in proof. I thought it had better be in 
 English, since there was a piece of Latin before. This, I believe, 
 is all I have to say. 
 
 You say our preface to the Remains is bold — Is it near so 
 bold as the publishing itself is ? I sit prepared, but not com- 
 fortable, in expectation of the first report of the explosion in the 
 Observer, having applied the match. 
 
 I am sorry to say that not only Rivington pays nothing 
 under the present interregnum in the Review, but he scruples 
 at paying anything under my management, which I demur at. 
 I think I shall stick for five guineas a sheet ; indeed I have. 
 
 Is my " heresy " in the head, a real live heresy, or a Record 
 heresy 1 — Ever yours affectionately, John H. Newman. 
 
 In a letter dated 16th March 1838, Manning sought 
 Newman's counsel and co-operation in regard to a dispute 
 between the Evangelicals and High Church party, which 
 was breaking up the Society for Promoting Christian 
 Knowledge. " There has been," he writes, " a long course 
 of deliberation in high places for setting up a new society 
 for tracts only, and cutting off the balloting, and with it the 
 Eochford Clarke and Record gangrene. You know that 
 after a tract has been affirmed by the committee and by 
 five or seven bishops, I forget which, it is subjected to the 
 wisdom of Mr. Eochford Clarke, W. W. Hall, etc., who may 
 blackball it at a monthly meeting. 
 
 Manning then adds that the Dean of Chichester wanted 
 to know " whether the Oxford Legion would go with them. 
 I have answered for myself, and said I could for certain 
 others. But I promised to answer more distinctly. 
 
 " The grounds on which I said what I did are the same 
 as Dr. MacHale^ takes up with Lord John Eussell, i.e. that the 
 bishops only are the consecrated guardians and dispensers 
 of the Faith, and that we teach in their stead, that whether 
 our own teaching be oral or written (I do not mean extem- 
 pore or written sermons, but tracts, etc.), all ought to be 
 permissu superiorum." Manning further contends " that 
 the ballot is the direct democratic antagonist of Church 
 
 ^ Dr. MacHale was the well-known Archbishop of Tuam of that date. At 
 the Vatican Council, he was one of the Irish Bishops belonging to the 
 Inopportunist party.
 
 230 CARDINAL MANNING CHAP. 
 
 authority, and that we ought not to abandon our Church 
 position, but to expel the invading evil. To abolish the 
 ballot would do it at once, for all the jealous party, i.e. all 
 the ' Xs,' ^ I fear, and perhaps some other Liberals would go 
 out, for conscience sake of course. The society, or at least 
 its broad principle, would be defeated by such an upshot, 
 and we should gain ten years of Church principle at once." 
 Eeferring to his dean Dr. Chandler's question whether 
 Newman's friends would " come up and vote for the abolition 
 of the ballot ? " Manning explains : — 
 
 He would be very glad if you would write to him by Sunday's 
 post if you can — and the Judaism of yoiu" conscience will allow 
 you — the last piece of impertinence is not the dean's but mine, 
 for he writes as tenderly as if he thought you a serious "X," as 
 of course you are, the only obstacle to it being, that the Record 
 won't think so. If you would send him Pusey's mind also it 
 would be a great help. I am surprised to find the dean pre- 
 pared for so strong a measure — it is really hopeful to find even 
 the so-called Liberal and Moderate men girding themselves up to 
 act on Church principles. I know they are very anxious to 
 secure the co-operation of our friends, though they would be glad 
 to disband them as soon as the strife is over, but that is c</)' ■))[xiv. 
 Is it not remarkable and merciful that so many "X's" should have 
 been made chm'chmen — not by internal controversy, but by the 
 Ecclesiastical Commission and turn of Erastianism % 
 
 Manning says likewise, that he is going " to vote for a 
 motion to prohibit the reporting of the proceedings of the 
 S.P.C.K. in the newspapers, as it is a part of the 
 democratic movement, and an appeal to the ccnticcps in 
 matters of faith." This long letter concludes as follows : — 
 
 They are fearful about the division, and if you can prevail 
 on any friends to come up to their support it ^nll be most 
 important. I wish we could all meet in London. I have so 
 many things I want to talk to you about — so I will lay baits — 
 you may do so much good, just at this crisis — and the Cathedral 
 
 ^ " X's and Peculiars " were the nicknames given by the Tractarians to the 
 Evangelicals or Low Church party who called themselves Christians par 
 excellence; Manning's ready adoption of these nicknames, even if only in 
 private letters, shows how he had already broken in spirit with the Evan- 
 gelical party.
 
 XI RELATIONS WITH NEWMAN AND THE TRACTARIANS 231 
 
 Bill will be about under discussion, and Eivington^ to be 
 exorcised, and your lecture on Justification to be corrected. 
 Pray come up Monday the 2nd April. 
 
 You have not altered half as much of my article as I expected 
 — pray always do so without scruple or explanation. — Believe 
 me, my dear Newman, youi's ever affectionately, 
 
 H. E. Manning. 
 
 This letter was endorsed by Newman with the following 
 words : — 
 
 Wrote 18th March 1838 to Dean of Chichester saying we 
 would come up on any motion calculated to settle the troubles 
 of the Society, and liked the particular one proposed, but that — 
 
 1. Oxford men had diflficulty of leaving Oxford, while there. 
 
 2. People who came up were disappointed and sent back 
 three years since. 
 
 3. We doubted half measures. 
 
 For more than a twelvemonth there was a suspension 
 of Manning's active support of the Tractarian movement ; 
 he was busy in translating the principles which he had 
 avowed in his private communications to Newman and 
 others into a public profession of faith, if not in Tract- 
 arianism, at any rate in the doctrines generally held by 
 moderate High Churchmen. In this work, The Bule of 
 Faith, as I have already shown, he publicly broke with 
 the Low Church party. Besides the labours and anxieties 
 and precautions necessarily attending the avowal of a change 
 in his religious opinions, Manning was compelled, owing to 
 ill health, to spend the winter of 1838-39 in Eome. 
 
 Inspired by new interests contracted by his association 
 with " some foreigners in Italy " — notably an apostate 
 French priest — Manning, in resuming his correspondence 
 with Newman, devotes his first letter, August 1839, to the 
 claims for material support of his interesting proUgS, the 
 priest aforesaid. In the following letter, under like inspira- 
 tions, he urges Newman to attack " Eomanism " : — 
 
 23rci October 1839. 
 
 My dear Newman — Henry Wilberforce wrote me word of 
 
 ^ Rivington was the publisher of the British Critic.
 
 232 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 your visit to him and gave me your messages. We were very 
 sorry not to get you to the cathedral. 
 
 I by no means make light of the article against the Anglican 
 Succession,^ for I think the argument, old as it is, very plausible, 
 and therefore very misleading and mischievous. I can also con- 
 ceive it to be made more so, by the way by which it is answered, 
 that is by treating the Eoman jurisdiction in England as any- 
 thing but an usurpation. I am very glad Keble is to answer it, 
 as he will do it thoroughly and safely. I have a sort of floating 
 idea of having heard or read expressions about the supremacy of 
 the Pope which give advantage to the Romanists. I sometimes 
 fear that the subject is only sifted half through, and not to the 
 bottom by some of those who are taking up right principles ; 
 and that they either deny too much out of the bias of Protestantism, 
 or concede too much from an impatient recoil from the meddling 
 of our civil rulers. Palmer's chapters of it seem to me very 
 good. You know Barnes's (the Benedictine Catholic's) — Roman 
 Pacificers, in which he maintains the avrovofiia of England as of 
 Cyprus. It is in Brown's Fasciculus, vol. ii., and the chapter is 
 printed with Fax on the frontispiece. But I am sending owls 
 to Athens, so no more; but that I want to see you and 
 have a good talk. I promised some foreigners in Italy to tell 
 you that you have not done enough polemically against Roman- 
 ism. I said you had done much, and told them what ; but they 
 said that the Romanists are making so much use of you to deceive 
 people, that you must do more. And so I think ; I do not like 
 the tone of our James the Second divines, but those books would 
 be very useful if reprinted. — Believe me, my dear Newman, 
 yours ever affectionately, H. E. M. 
 
 As early as 1839, Manning, enlightened by the teaching 
 of Newman and Pusey as to the spiritual graces derived 
 from the sacrament of Penance, had assumed, as yet, perhaps, 
 in an informal manner, the office of spiritual director of 
 souls. As yet he was a novice in the guidance of those 
 who came to him for counsel or instruction, or who, in doubt 
 and despair about the teaching and practice of the Anglican 
 Church, were moving onward towards Rome. Even when he 
 became later a regular confessor in the English Church, Man- 
 ning was often perplexed by the desire of his penitents to 
 submit to the Catholic Church, but now, when he was new to 
 the office, he felt so disturbed at the insistence of a lady under 
 
 ' An article by Dr. Wiseman in the Dublin Review.
 
 XI RELATIONS WITH NEWMAN AND THE TRACTARIANS 233 
 
 his spiritual direction to become a Catholic, that in his per- 
 plexity he applied to Newman for help and counsel. How 
 to keep his penitents back from Eome was, indeed, a per- 
 ennial trial to Manning, from his first case in 1839 to his 
 last in 1851, when he, the spiritual director of so many- 
 troubled souls, himself submitted to Eome. 
 
 In answer to Manning's request for guidance, Newman, in 
 a letter, dated Oriel College, 1st September 1839, wrote 
 as foUows : — 
 
 Oriel College, 1st September 1839. 
 
 My dear Manning — I feel very anxious about such a case 
 as you mention ; from the consciousness that our Church has 
 not the provisions and methods by which Catholic feelings are to 
 be detained, secured, sobered, and trained heavenwards. Our 
 blanket is too small for our bed. I say this being quite in the 
 dark as to the particular state of mind of your friend — and how 
 she has come into it. For ourselves, I am conscious that we 
 are raising longings and tastes which we are not allowed to supply 
 — and till our bishops and others give scope to the development 
 of Catholicism externally and wisely, we do tend to make im- 
 patient minds seek it where it has ever been, in Rome. I think 
 that, whenever the time comes that secession to Rome takes place, 
 for which we must not be unprepared, we must boldly say to the 
 Protestant section of our Church — " You are the cause of this : 
 you must concede ; you must conciliate ; you must meet the age ; 
 you must make the Church more efficient, more suitable to 
 the needs of the heart, more equal to the external. Give us 
 more services, more vestments and decorations in worship ; give 
 us monasteries ; give us the signs of an apostle, the pledges 
 that the Spouse of Christ is among us. Till then you will have 
 continual secessions to Rome." 
 
 This is, I confess, my view, I think nothing but patience and 
 dutifulness can keep us in the Church of England — and remain- 
 ing in it is a test whether we have these graces. If then your 
 friend is attracted to Rome by the exercise of devotion which it 
 provides, I should press on her the duty of remaining in the 
 calling in which God has found her; and enlarge upon the 
 doctrine of 1 Cor. vii., also I think you must press on her the 
 prospect of benefiting the poor Church, through which she has her 
 baptism, by stopping in it. Does she not care for the souls all 
 around her, steeped and stifled in Protestantism ? How will she 
 best care for them : by indulging her own feelings in the com- 
 munion of Rome, or in denying herself and staying in sackcloth
 
 234 CARDINAL MANNING ohap. 
 
 and ashes to do them good 1 Will she persuade more of her 
 brethren by leaving them, or by continuing with them ? Is she 
 unmarried 1 is there any chance of making her a " mother sup- 
 erior " ? If, however, she takes the grounds of distrusting the 
 English Church, doubting its catholicity, and the like, then I 
 suppose you must retort with the denial of the Cup — the doctrine 
 of purgatory as practically held — the non-proof of the Church's 
 infallibility — the anathema, etc., with the additional reflection 
 that she is taking a step, and, therefore, should have some abun- 
 dant evidence on the side of that step (and ought one not 
 seriously to consider whether accidental circumstances have not 
 determined her — disgust at some particular thing, faith in some 
 particular person, etc. ?). That step is either a clear imperative 
 duty, or it is a sin. On the other hand, can she deny that the 
 hand of God is with our Church, even granting for argument's 
 sake Rome has some things which we have not 1 Is it dead ? has 
 it the signs of death ] Has it more than the signs of disease 1 
 Has it not lasted through very troublous times ? Has it not from 
 time to time marvellously revived, when it seemed to be losing 
 all faith in holiness 1 Is it to he given up ? — for her step would be 
 giving it up — would be saying, " I wish it swept away, and the 
 Roman developed in its territory," not "I wish it reformed — I 
 wish it corrected — I wish Rome and it to be one." 
 
 I have written you a most pompous letter on general tottoi 
 — but since I do not know anything in particular, I can but 
 preach to you. 
 
 The letters which passed between Manning and Newman 
 from 1838 to 1843 showed an approach to intimacy, and 
 towards the end of the correspondence, partook of an affec- 
 tionate character. Newman evidently, at that early time, 
 had trust and confidence in Manning ; looked upon him 
 as a steadfast and docile disciple ready to carry out — and 
 to carry out ably — any work entrusted to him. But he 
 was in no sense a leader like Newman himself, or Pusey or 
 Keble even ; for Manning was not a profound thinker, nor 
 possessed of original ideas, nor deeply read ; but on the other 
 hand, he was distinguished by a wonderful and most useful 
 capacity of taking up ideas and suggestions, and working 
 them out with infinite skill. Manning, too, quickly recog- 
 nised the vital importance of the dogmatic system, represented 
 by Tractarianism, as a defence, on the one hand, against the 
 growing Latitudinarianism of the day, and on the other,
 
 XI RELATIONS WITH NEWMAN AND THE TRACTARIANS 235 
 
 against the Erastianism of the State. The Ecclesiastical 
 Commission and the principles of which it was the outcome 
 had not a little to do with driving Manning for a time into 
 the Tractarian camp. 
 
 Manning's letter to Newman, announcing his appoint- 
 ment as Archdeacon of Chichester, contained the following 
 significant sentence. Eeferring to his new bishop, the late 
 Warden of New College, Oxford, a Low Churchman and an 
 anti-Tractarian, Manning says : — " I trust I may give him 
 full satisfaction." 
 
 It would have been a difficult task for any man, in that 
 jealous day of religious strife and suspicion, to fight, on the 
 one hand, under the banner of Newman in the Tractarian 
 camp ; and on the other, to give satisfaction as archdeacon 
 to a Low Church and anti-Tractarian bishop. To serve two 
 masters is a proverbial impossibility. But when, in addition, 
 Tract 9 was condemned by the " august " authority of the 
 Hebdomadal Board, the Archdeacon of Chichester, at any 
 rate, found it impossible to remain true to Newman, and, 
 at the same time, give full satisfaction to his bishop, 
 and to the high dignitaries in the Church whom his bishop 
 represented. 
 
 As ill-luck would have it, just at this unpropitious 
 moment a conflict broke out at Oxford, between the Tract- 
 arians and the Low Church party, on the election for the 
 professorship of poetry. There were two candidates in the 
 field, Isaac Williams, whose poems gave him high standing at 
 the University, and the Eev. Mr. Garbett who was possessed 
 of no known qualification for the professorship of j)oetry. 
 Williams was an advanced Tractarian, and Garbett a Low 
 Churchman, who flourished in the diocese of Chichester, and 
 enjoyed the friendship of Manning. The election was a 
 trial of strength between the two parties at Oxford. Pusey 
 had, somewhat imprudently perhaps, provoked the religious 
 contest by extolling not only the merits of Mr. Williams as 
 a poet, but by contrasting his principles as a High Church- 
 man with those of Mr, Garbett. This public appeal by 
 Pusey to the reUgious question set the University in a flame, 
 or served at least as a pretext to the Low Church party,
 
 236 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 intoxicated by their triumph at the recent condemnation of 
 Tract 90, to stir afresh the smouldering embers of controversy. 
 Each party strained every nerve to bring up their men, or 
 to keep waverers from defection. In such a heated contest 
 every man's action, or probable action, was keenly scruti- 
 nised. A rumour soon reached Pusey's ear, that the newly- 
 appointed Archdeacon of Chichester was wavering in his 
 fealty. 
 
 Pusey, in his indignation, lost no time in conveying a 
 sharp reproach or rebuke to Manning for deserting the 
 standard of his party in the day of battle, and passing over 
 to the ranks of the enemy. In reply to this reproach 
 Manning wrote a very able, carefully -worded and con- 
 ciliatory letter, full of protests of personal kindliness and 
 friendship towards Pusey, but indicating his desire on 
 personal grounds to maintain a neutral attitude in the 
 election. 
 
 The letter is as foUows : — 
 
 Lavinqton, 27th November 1841. 
 
 My dear Pusey — The tone of your letter makes me feel a 
 sort of disquiet till I have answered it. I am grieved that you 
 should have so much as thought of my taking part against you 
 in anything. If I should ever have the unhappiness to differ 
 greatly from any man I am bound to by affection, I should be 
 grieved and pained if he did not believe that I felt myself to be 
 under a necessity which forbade me to do otherwise. I should 
 hope that you would so judge of me even if I were in the 
 election for the professorship of poetry to vote contrary to 
 your wishes. But as such is not my intention, you may dismiss 
 the thought of an opposition, which would be not more distress- 
 ing to you than to myself. 
 
 And now as to the course I shall take. 
 
 My earnest wish has been not to vote at all, and that, because 
 I should require some very strong reasons to induce me to take 
 part against Garbett. It is as natural for me to look at this 
 question through the light of this diocese, as for you to look at 
 it through that of Oxford. Garbett is one of our clergy, and 
 we have been thrown by many events into a very kindly relation. 
 It would be with great regret, if I were to find myself compelled 
 by any reasons, supposing even that I were in Oxford at the 
 moment of the election, to vote against him.
 
 XI RELATIONS WITH NEWMAN AND THE TRACTARIANS 237 
 
 This reluctance is not diminished by the election being made 
 a party question. How it has become so I do not know. That 
 you and Newman and Williams have abstained from making it 
 so I am confident ; that there are some opposed to you, who 
 would not be backward to give it that character I also believe ; 
 but I do not as yet sufficiently know the facts of the case to be 
 assured where and how the fault began. I deeply lament it, and 
 know nothing so hurtful to the recovery of truer principles out 
 of Oxford as the complexion thus given to academical contests 
 within the University. I say this from observation of facts, and 
 of the perceptible effects upon men's minds. I cannot allow this 
 election to be a crisis of truth or error, and shall in every way 
 protest against its being so regarded. I cannot therefore 
 willingly act as if I regarded it so myself, but I can understand 
 how it may be made an occasion of unkind and unfair dealing 
 towards you and Williams, and if anything induces me to vote 
 in the election it will be to protect him personally from what I 
 consider to be unjust. 
 
 I have endeavoured, my dear Pusey, to give you my view of 
 the question. I may be wrong in judgment, but assuredly not 
 cool or uncertain in my regard to you, and what, I hope, we 
 both esteem more than even our mutual regard. — Yours very 
 sincerely, H. E. Manning. 
 
 Having heard from Dr. Pusey of Manning's explanations, 
 and of his intention not to vote on the one side or the 
 other at the election, Mr. Isaac Williams wrote as follows : — 
 
 At the Rev. Sir G. Peevost's, 
 Stinckcombe, Deersley, 4th Jan. (1842). 
 
 My DEAR Manning — I cannot tell you how much gratified 
 I have been by your most kind letter. It was reported before 
 I left Oxford that you were going to vote against me, and I 
 mentioned on hearing of it that it was the only thing that had 
 yet hurt me in this unhappy contest ; for I did not think that 
 you would be carried away by a clamour, or condemn me without 
 reason. And of this I was entirely relieved by your letter to 
 Dr. Pusey, from which it appeared that you were not going to 
 vote against me, and that there were reasons, which I thought 
 quite sufficient, why you should not vote at all, and with this I 
 was quite satisfied. 
 
 There appears at present every reason for supposing that the 
 contest will be avoided, as the Bishop of Oxford's name appears 
 attached to the circular, but otherwise my own character seemed 
 to render it necessary that I should not withdraw, and I now
 
 238 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 leave it entirely with my friends, as I have done throughout, to 
 decide as they may think best. — Believe me, my dear Manning, 
 very thankfully and sincerely yours, Isaac Willialis. 
 
 The weight and importance attached to the impending 
 contest are amply attested by the vigorous appeals w^hich Mr. 
 Gladstone made to Manning for his personal aid in bringing 
 about a compromise. To effect this, Mr. Gladstone proposed 
 the withdrawal of both candidates for the professorship of 
 poetry, and the nomination of a third person of neutral 
 religious opinions. Manning was not averse to the proposed 
 compromise in itself — quite the contrary ; but he did not 
 wish to commit himself in any way, to one side or the 
 other, as he would have had to do, had he accepted the 
 proposal to act as one of the pacificators. Mr. Gladstone 
 had drawn up an address to be signed by moderate men of 
 both parties ; and had difficulty in understanding Manning's 
 hesitation to attach his signature — unaware until the last 
 moment of, and not a little indignant at, the archdeacon's 
 determination to observe an absolute neutrality. 
 
 For the first two years, from 1841 to 5th of November 
 1843, Newman took no notice of Manning's desertion. 
 Indeed, the holding himself aloof as archdeacon from the 
 Tractarian movement after the condemnation of Tract 90 
 would have been, perhaps, condoned as only too common or 
 natural under the circumstances. But what was remembered 
 against him — by some unforgotten to the end — was that in 
 the day of disaster and defeat ; in a time of turmoil and 
 popular outcry against Newman and the writers of the 
 Tracts, the Archdeacon of Chichester fell not only into line 
 with the protesting bishops and the leaders of popular 
 Protestantism, but smote with his own hand them that 
 were down. 
 
 It must, however, be ever borne in mind, that in the 
 attitude which he assumed at that time, Manning was in 
 part constrained by the sense of responsibility imposed upon 
 him by his new office ; by his closer relations not only with 
 his own bishop, but with the dignitaries of the Church, and 
 last, but not least, by the weight of public opinion.
 
 XI RELATIONS WITH NEWMAN AND THE TRACTARIANS 239 
 
 In part, too, we may be assured he was actuated by the 
 keen desire of his heart to preserve in the Church of 
 England concord and unity, which were dear to him as the 
 apple of his eye ; and which were threatened, as he feared, 
 in that heart- searching day, by those whom the Record 
 denounced at the time as the " troublers of our Israel."
 
 CHAPTEE XII 
 
 A PERIOD OF DECLENSION 
 1843-1846 
 
 The Archdeacon of Chichester was now approaching a 
 most critical period in his life. To him the condemnation 
 of Tract 90 was the beginning of the end. Tractarianism 
 was a losing cause. To a losing cause Manning was never 
 partial, early in life or late. His nature instinctively shrank 
 from them that were failing, or were down. On the 
 winning side, he could render, as he knew, far more 
 effectual service to the Church — a thought ever upper- 
 most in his mind — by restraining extreme men on either 
 side. Untrammelled by party ties, he could assume the 
 character of peacemaker, and stepping forth between the 
 two hostile camps present the olive branch. It was, if 
 a critical, therefore, a period of highest interest as testing 
 character, as it can alone be tested aright, by trials and 
 temptations; yet painful withal, as showing how Manning 
 in those tempestuous days was influenced and swayed by 
 external circumstances, by public opinion and popular 
 outcry. 
 
 This period, which I have now to chronicle, is described 
 in his contemporary Diary by Archdeacon Manning as 
 follows : — " Declension — three and a half years — secularity, 
 vanity, and anger." ^ Again, " I was caught up in the 
 wilderness of London life, visions of an ecclesiastical future 
 came to me." On the 30th of January 1846 is the 
 following record : — " I do feel pleasure in honour, precedence, 
 
 ^ See Archdeacon Manning's Diary, 1844-47.
 
 XII A PERIOD OF DECLENSION 241 
 
 elevation, the society of great people, and all this is very 
 shameful and mean." 
 
 Such confessions were the reproaches of a sensitive 
 conscience under severe self-examination, made in the peace 
 and quiet of Lavington, on a return from one of his 
 periodical visits of three or four weeks to London. All 
 this means no more than that Manning for three and a 
 half years, dating from his final repudiation of the 
 Tractarians in his Charge, July 1843, to his illness in 
 1347 — cast in his lot with the winning and popular side. 
 He suspended for a time correspondence on his religious 
 doubts and difficulties with Eobert Wilberforce. He entered, 
 as I have already related, into London society. Dined in the 
 company of great people in Church and State. Attended levies 
 and drawing-rooms. He followed, in a word, the leading of 
 liis brother-in-law, Sam Wilberforce, then recently appointed 
 Bishop of Oxford. What wonder then, that under such 
 influences, the hope of preferment, or what he called " ele- 
 vation into a sphere of higher usefulness," should have 
 entered for a time into the heart of the Archdeacon of 
 Chichester ? 
 
 There is no need or call to gloss over or suppress, 
 even if it were honest, this period of "declension and 
 secularity " ; it was followed by repentance and change of 
 heart, as is fully set forth in Archdeacon Manning's Diary 
 in 1847. 
 
 Newman's retirement to Littlemore brought matters to 
 a crisis in Manning's mind. It was a danger-signal. He 
 felt instinctively that Newman's " fall," as Mr. Gladstone did 
 not hesitate to describe it, would implicate not Tractarians 
 only, but the High Church party en masse, and be fatal to 
 their position as leaders in the future. Ultra-Protestantism 
 in its rage and jealousy, the civil and ecclesiastical authori- 
 ties in their blind following of popular feeling, would involve 
 with Newman the whole High Church party in a common 
 condemnation. Such a catastrophe, Manning felt, must 
 needs be averted at all hazards — even at the hazard of 
 giving pledges to ultra-Protestantism. 
 
 On Newman's withdrawing to Littlemore, Manning wrote 
 
 VOL. I K
 
 242 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 making inquiries, and in reply received a letter from Newman/ 
 which both Manning and Mr. Gladstone interpreted as indi- 
 cating secession. On receiving from Manning his own and 
 Newman's letter, Mr. Gladstone, under date Whitehall, 28th 
 October 1843, wrote as follows: — 
 
 My dear Manning — Alas, alas for your letter and inclosures 
 of this morning ! My first thought is " I stagger to and fro like 
 a drunken man, and am at my wit's end." But even out of the 
 enormity of the mischief arises some gleam of consolation. For 
 between four and five years he has had this fatal conviction ; 
 he has waited probably in the hope of its being changed — 
 perhaps he may still wait — and God's inexhaustible mercy may 
 overflow upon him and us. 
 
 It is impossible for me at the end of a long day and near the 
 post time really to enter upon this subject, and indeed I am so 
 bewildered and overthrown that I am otherwise wholly unfit. 
 But I will address myself Iriefly to points which appear to me to 
 press. 
 
 I cannot make his letter hang together. The licence to you 
 at the end looks like saying " I cannot bring myself to reveal 
 this — do you reveal it for me " — but surely this is contradicted 
 by his aspiration that God " may keep hira still from hasty acts 
 or resolves with a doubtful conscience." This could have no 
 meaning — would be worse than nonsense — if the interpretation 
 of the concluding passage which I have suggested were adopted. 
 
 I cling to the hope that Avhat he terms his conviction is not 
 a conclusion finally seated in his mind, but one which he sees 
 advancing upon him without the means of resistance or escape. 
 Tliis is sad enough, more than enough ; but something of this 
 kind is absolutely required to make his conduct (I must speak 
 succinctly) honest. I am strongly of opinion, and I venture to 
 press it upon you, that you ought not to rest contented with the 
 bare negation in your P.S., but to write to him again — he cannot 
 be surprised at after-thoughts following upon such a letter. To 
 tell him as you tell me that you cannot put his letter consistently 
 together : that much more would be requisite in order to enable 
 you to come at his real meaning — not to say at any such view 
 of the chain of what precedes, as you could in justice to him 
 adopt — that you believe he never could intend you to make any 
 use, save the most confidential, of that letter — that if he could 
 for one moment be out of himself and read it as another man 
 
 ^ This letter of Newman's is not in the " Collection of Letters " preserved 
 by the late Cardinal Manning.
 
 XII A PERIOD OF DECLENSION 243 
 
 does, he would see it in a moment. (The description of his pro- 
 ceedings in 1841, of his letter to the Bishop of Oxford, of his 
 committing himself again, is, as it stands there, frightful, — forgive 
 me if I say it, — more like the expressions of some Faust gambling 
 for his soul, than the records of the inner life of a great Christian 
 teacher.) Therefore you cannot take this letter as it stands to be 
 his. Eeflect upon the constructions which that passage would 
 bear upon the mind of the country. It would lead men to say 
 — He whom we have lost is not the man we thought. It certainly 
 would damage and disparage his authority and character in the 
 manner which one perhaps should desire as to a confirmed 
 enemy to Truth, but which with respect to him it would be 
 most wicked to do otherwise than deeply lament. 
 
 I do not know whether out of these confused chaotic elements 
 you can make the ground note of a further note — or whether 
 you will think it right — but I feel that there are such imperative 
 reasons upon the face of his letter, reasons relative to himself 
 and his own good name, for your keeping it secret, that I am 
 very loath your refusal to divulge should stand without any 
 reason ; next I have the hope that he does not desire or con- 
 template abandonment of the Church : and lastly, I would to 
 God you could throw in one word, glancing at the fatal results, 
 which I may seriously illustrate by the effects that the horrors 
 of the French Eevolution produced in a most violent reaction 
 against democratic principles in England. But even this, though 
 a great historic truth, seems cold for the matter we are now 
 dealing with. 
 
 I think you come to town next week — come to our house 
 and take up your quarters there, that we may communicate 
 freely. We may then, please God, talk of James Hope, and 
 other matters. 
 
 I am compelled thus abruptly to close. — Ever affectionately 
 yours, W. E. Gladstone. 
 
 Manning, we may be sure, did not "stagger to and fro 
 like a drunken man," at the thought of Newman's secession; 
 nor, with Mr. Gladstone in the excitement of his intense 
 grief, regard Newman as a " Faust gambling for his soul." 
 Still less would prudence allow him, as Mr. Gladstone sug- 
 gested, to enter into controversy with Newman. Supreme 
 over private feelings was the public duty imposed upon the 
 Archdeacon of Chichester by Newman's letter, or the con- 
 struction put upon it, to break, and, on this occasion at all 
 events, in an unmistakable fashion, with the Tractarian
 
 244 CARDINAL MAXNING chap. 
 
 party and its illustrious leader. Manning knew better than 
 Mr. Gladstone did " the fatal results to all Catholic progres- 
 sion in the Church which Newman's fall would produce." 
 To-morrow, when the fatal tidings, which to-day he held 
 locked in his breast, should become public, there would be, 
 as Manning knew but too well, an end to all Catholic progress: 
 an end to peace : an end to his own work and position. All 
 alike would be tarred with the same brush. Time pressed : 
 an opportunity was at hand : Manning was not the man, in 
 the Church's interests or his own, to shrink, no matter at what 
 sacrifice of personal friendship, from a public duty. 
 
 The necessity of things — a hard taskmaster, as he 
 found out to his cost, and not on tliis occasion only 
 — induced him once more at that period of acknow- 
 ledged " declension," to take a new departure and make 
 a fresh sacrifice. Archdeacon Manning was equal to the 
 occasion ; he was not afraid, in that evil day, to gratify the 
 Ecclesiastical and Civil authorities and to respond to the 
 popular " No Popery " outcry against Newman and the writers 
 of the Tracts by preaching a Fifth of November sermon in 
 the pulpit of St. Mary's, Oxford, but now abandoned by 
 the illustrious recluse of Littlemore. 
 
 In a conversation with Mr. Gladstone several years ago 
 about this forgotten 5 th of November sermon, and about 
 Manning's declaration that, " unlike Newman, he had not 
 pages after pages of passionate rhetoric and of empty 
 declamation to retract on his conversion, but only, in all 
 his works, four pages — and those not of anti-Eoman abuse, 
 but — of calm and sunple argument," Mr. Gladstone said : 
 " Manning has forgotten his anti - papal sermon, which 
 created no little sensation at the time, and under the 
 circumstances of its delivery. I remember well the effect it 
 produced." After some remarks upon his own intimacy 
 with Manning, Mr. Gladstone went on: "In 1843, just 
 after Newman's retirement to Littlemore, Manning preached 
 the 5 th of November sermon — a custom then kept up 
 at Oxford, and made a fierce attack on the Church of Eome. 
 In it, there is plenty of passionate rhetoric, as you will find 
 when you get it, for Manning to retract."
 
 XII A PERIOD OF DECLENSION 246 
 
 Afterwards Mr. Gladstone added, that " Manning's ' No 
 Popery ' sermon gave great offence to many at Oxford, 
 delivered as it was at St. Mary's and almost on the occasion, 
 though, of course, neither event nor name was mentioned, of 
 Newman's retirement. I know, not only that two or three of 
 Manning's personal friends refused to speak to him after 
 that sermon ; but, on his paying a visit to Littlemore shortly 
 afterwards Newman himself declined to see him." 
 
 Two or three passages from A Sermon preached on 
 5th November 1843, in commemoration of G^iy Fawkcs' Plot, 
 under the title " Christ our Eest and King," is all that 
 I need recite to show that on his conversion Manning 
 had something more to recant than he was willing to 
 admit, and of a different character than pure argument ; 
 for the insinuations that the Gunpowder Plot was en- 
 couraged by the subtleties of Eoman casuistry, is a rhe- 
 torical appeal to the popular Protestant prejudices prevalent 
 in that day rather than to calm reason. The following 
 passages seem more suited to the heated atmosphere of 
 Exeter Hall than to that of St. Mary's, Oxford : — 
 
 The two events which are united in the acts of this day 
 {5th of November), different as they are in their circumstan- 
 tials, have this at least in common. They exhibit the mercy of 
 God in preserving the English Church and people from the 
 secular domination of the Roman Pontiff. 
 
 The conspiracy against the king and the three estates of 
 England was conceived, planned, and brought to the eve of 
 perpetration, by members of the Roman communion ; it was 
 designed to advance the interests of the Roman Church. It 
 was not indistinctly known that some such attempt was in 
 preparation. The intent was encouraged by the subtilities of 
 casuistry, being directly defensible on principles prevalent and 
 commended among the writers of that Church. 
 
 In the other event the " Most High " that " ruleth in the 
 kingdom of men and giveth it to whomsoever He will," con- 
 founded our adversaries in the very point wherein they had 
 usurped upon His sole prerogative. They who had claimed " the 
 power to bestow the empire on whom they listed," who also 
 said of themselves : " We " (the popes) " are to this end placed 
 over the nations and kingdoms, that we may destroy and pull up
 
 246 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 and plant " — saw, in one hour, the secret labours and confident 
 expectations of many years scattered " as a dream when one 
 awaketh." 
 
 In a note the archdeacon says : — 
 
 No one can deny that the Revolution of 1688 was an event 
 in Providence, nor that by that event the re-entrance of the 
 Roman influence was prevented, and no member of the English 
 Church can but look upon this as a mercy. ^ 
 
 Then the archdeacon goes on with his 5 th of Novem- 
 ber sermon as follows : — 
 
 A special Providence appears to have shielded this Church 
 and realm from falling again under the secular dominion of 
 Rome. Every time it has re-entered, it has been cast out again 
 with a more signal expulsion ; every time it has seemed to 
 gather strength, it has been more utterly confounded. The 
 reign of princes alien from the English Church has been twice 
 brought to an end with a speed truly significant : foreign arma- 
 ments ignominiously baffled, conspiracies at home laid bare, 
 the insinuation of secret emissaries detected and exposed, the 
 whole line of the House of Stuart repelled by steady and 
 uniform defeats. If a series of Providential acts may be read 
 in combination, and thereby taken to express the purpose of 
 the Divine Ruler of the world, it would seem to be the will of 
 God that the dominion of the Roman Pontificate may never 
 again be set up in this Church and realm. ^ 
 
 After stating that " there are many duties to which 
 
 ^ Referring to a note in Tract 90, Ward says, " In the note it not obscurely 
 instructs us to look ' at the judgment of King Charles's murder ' as brought 
 down by the crying sins of the Reformation. " — A few more Words in support 
 of No. 90 of the Tracts for tlie Times, by the Rev. W. G. Ward. 
 
 ^ In the Introduction (page 2) to the Temporal Mission of the Holy 
 Ghost, published in 1877, Cardinal Manning, after rectifying two errors in 
 his Anglican Sermons, the Rule of Faith and Unity of the Church, goes on as 
 fallows : — "Thirdly, in a sermon preached before the University of Oxford on 
 5th November 1843, speaking of the conflicts between the Holy See and the 
 Crown of England, I used the words : ' It would seem to be the will of Heaven 
 that the dominion of the Roman Pontificate may never again be set up in 
 this Church and realm.' Now I feel that I owe a reparation to the Truth 
 for these three errors. Beyond these, I am not aware that for any published 
 statements, I have any reparation to make. And I feel, that, as the state- 
 ments were not declamations, but reasoned propositions, so ought the 
 refutation to be likewise."
 
 XII A PERIOD OF DECLENSION 
 
 this day of commemoration (5 th of November) recalls 
 the preacher proceeds to justify the Eeformers, showing 
 how, " for just causes and by a rightful authority, the 
 Eoman jurisdiction was finally removed " ; and then he goes 
 on : — 
 
 The principle on which the Reformers rested their act, and 
 on which our relation to the Roman Church is still amply 
 to be defended, is this : — That there is no one supreme Prince 
 or Power in things temporal from whom the pastors of this 
 Church derive their apostolical succession, that both the spiritu- 
 ality and the temporality of this Church and realm severally 
 possess full authority and jurisdiction derived to them by 
 succession and devolution, and that both under Christ alone 
 are within their respective spheres perfect and complete. There 
 does not exist any fountain of jurisdiction below Christ the head 
 of all, on whose will and authority the acts of either for right or 
 validity depend.^ 
 
 The preacher, it will be observed, does not stoop to 
 argue, but contents himself with laying down, in a tone of 
 infallible authority, a dogmatic assurance. His ipse dixit 
 was to be accepted as all-sufl&cing. This dogmatic cer- 
 tainty, combined with his earnestness and good faith, was 
 the secret of Manning's influence in that day when the 
 hearts of men were shaken by the forebodings consequent 
 on Newman's retirement to Littlemore. 
 
 Then, as befits the preacher of a 5th of November 
 sermon, the archdeacon launches forth against the Catholic 
 Church and the Popes : — 
 
 From two of the mightiest kingdoms of Western Europe 
 this generation has seen the Church all but blotted out. At its 
 very centre it rests upon the deceitful calmness of a flood, which 
 at any hour may lift up its lowest depths and scatter it to the 
 winds. They (the popes) who once claimed to plant and to 
 pluck up the thrones of kings, now hold their own unsteady seat 
 by the tutelage of princes. 
 
 Lastly, Archdeacon Manning relapses into the propheti- 
 cal mood — so common with him in those days — in which, 
 Cassandra -like, he foretells evil days and terrible issues 
 
 ^ Christ our Rest and King, p. 92.
 
 248 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 for the Church of Eome. His eye piercing the veil of the 
 future, he sees visions and dreams dreams, and in winding up, 
 as seems to have been about this period a favourite habit 
 of his enthusiasm, his tongue utters a glowing prophecy as 
 to the coming glorification of the Church of England : — 
 
 The whole aspect of the world seems to be looking out 
 towards some new movement of the providential hand. It is 
 towards evening, and the day of its restless life seems well nigb 
 spent. The old institutions of the Christian world cast long 
 shadows on the earth — strange energies, spiritual and political, 
 issue from their relaxing frames, forming themselves into new 
 combinations, and moving rapidly towards some unknown con- 
 summation. 
 
 If there be truth in the universal foreboding of Christendom, 
 days of trial for the Church must soon come — and who can fore- 
 tell what we, unworthy, may be raised up to fulfil, for what the 
 energetic acts of the sixteenth century may have been the 
 stern but necessary preparation ? It may be that our highly 
 favoured Church, amid many chastisements and rebukes of 
 heavenly discipline, shall be fashioned and perfected until it 
 becomes a principle of reconciliation between East and West, 
 and a law of unity and peace to mankind. It may be that our 
 task shall be to cast up the camp of the saints against the day 
 when the nations of Antichrist shall, for the last time, go up 
 and compass it about. We may be called to bear and break 
 the last assault of the kingdom of evil. God grant that we may 
 be kept unspotted from the world ; steadfastly cleaving to the 
 Unseen Hand, which has thus far preserved us ; ready to serve 
 Him in the Church where He has blessed us with our spiritual 
 birth, by all the powers of life and, through His strength, even 
 unto death. 
 
 Manning, who, up to the date of the condemnation 
 of Tract 90 — up to the time of his appointment as 
 Archdeacon — had been on terms almost of intimacy with 
 Newman, could not now but feel that he had placed himself 
 in an awkward, if not a false position. The 5th of 
 November sermon was preached on Sunday ; on Monday 
 the 6th, Manning hurried down to Littlemore in the vain 
 hope of explaining away or extenuating his sudden change 
 of front. He was too late. The fatal news had already 
 reached Littlemore. Newman did not understand, or
 
 XII A PERIOD OF DECLENSION 249 
 
 had no stomach for, the ways of diplomacy. Manning, 
 on his arrival, was met with the answer, " Not at Home." ^ 
 He understood its meaning ; and so did all Oxford. The 
 5th of November sermon was extinguished in laughter. It 
 is not only in France that le ridicule tue. 
 
 Sam Wilberforce, on another occasion, received a like 
 rebuke ; had a like measure of poetic justice dealt out to 
 him for playing a double part. Wilberforce had made a 
 vehement attack on Pusey for his famous sermon on sin 
 after baptism, and shortly afterwards sent an article to the 
 British Critic. Newman, as editor, returned the MS. with 
 the message that he could not accept an article in support 
 of the Tractarian movement in Oxford from one who had 
 attacked it in London. Sam Wilberforce's disgust and 
 mortification may be imagined. After his 5 th of Novem- 
 ber sermon, Manning wrote no more for the British Critic." 
 In a letter to his sister, dated Oxford, 7 th November 
 1843, speaking of Manning's 5th of November sermon, 
 J. B. Mozley says : — 
 
 Archdeacon Manning preached on Sunday a testification 
 sermon against the British Critic. I did not like either the 
 
 ^ The door was opened by one of those yonng men, then members of the 
 quasi-monastic community, who had to convey to the archdeacon the un- 
 pleasant communication that Newman declined to see him. So anxious was 
 the young man to cover the slight, and to minimise its effect, that he walked 
 away from the door with the archdeacon, bareheaded as he was, and had 
 covered half the way to Oxford before he turned back, unaware, as was his 
 companion, of his unprotected state under a November sky. So strangely do 
 we change in these changing times, that it is hard to realise that the per- 
 plexed novice was James Anthony Froude. — The Century, vol. xxvi. 1883, 
 p. 129. 
 
 The writer in the Century, in speaking of Mr. Froude as a novice, was 
 under a mistake. Mr. Froude was at no time a novice perplexed or other- 
 wise at Littlemore ; he was not even an inmate. Like many another under- 
 graduate at the time, he with other disciples was in the habit of walking 
 over from Oxford to Littlemore to see Newman. 
 
 '^ In the beginning of the year, January 1841, S. F. Wood had wTitten to 
 Manning congratulating him on his article in the British Critic: — "It is 
 most masterly and high-toned, indeed. How grand our three articles, all of 
 a row in the British Critic, look." The three writers were Manning, Wood, 
 and Rogers. Their articles were non-theological. Manning's article was, of 
 course, in the printers' hands before he was made archdeacon (24th December 
 1840).
 
 250 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 matter or tone. He seemed so really carried away by fear of 
 Eomanism that he almost took under his patronage the Puritans 
 and the Whigs of 1688, because they had settled the matter 
 against the pope. He did not indeed commit himself into a 
 direct approval of them and the means they used, but talked of 
 the whole movement as having had a happy event and being 
 providential. Yet he went up to Littlemore and saw J. H. N.^ 
 yesterday. I suppose he wants to disconnect himself regularly 
 from the ultra party, and has taken this means. The Heads 
 are immensely taken with the sermon, of course. It had no 
 merits as a composition, and was much inferior to his former 
 ones. . . .'^ 
 
 In another letter from Oxford of about the same date, 
 J. B. Mozley wrote : — 
 
 Lincoln's Inn preachership is now in the field. Manning, 
 I think, stands. They say Manning is too high for the 
 Lincoln's Inn men ; if so, it shows the inutility of men making 
 demonstrations — for his sermon here was thought quite low.^ 
 
 In his contemporary Diary — 1844-47 — (referred to 
 always by Cardinal Manning as " The White Book ") is the 
 following entry, dated 5th November 1845 (the sermon 
 was preached 5th November 1843) : — 
 
 As Fellow of Merton, I had to preach before the University 
 on 5th November. The sermon is printed in the volume of 
 University Sermons. 
 
 1. Because such plainness is necessary. 
 
 2. Because others who ought cannot or will not. 
 
 3. Because my silence is misinterpreted. 
 
 4. Because unsettlemcnt is spreading. 
 
 5. Because I did not choose either the occasion or the subject. 
 
 6. Because there could be no personality. 
 
 7. Because it seemed a call of God's Providence.* 
 
 1 Mozley had evidently not as yet heard of the rebuff which Manning, the 
 day before, had received at Littlemore. 
 
 2 Letters of the Rev. J. B. Mozley (1885), p. 148. » Ihid. p. 149. 
 
 * In the above entry Archdeacon Manning states that he preached the 
 5th of November sermon at St. Mary's as Fellow of Merton, implying that 
 as Fellow it was his turn or duty to preach on that day. He was not Fellow 
 then, for his fellowship had ended with his marriage ten years before. 
 Moreover, the Vice-chancellor, by right of his office, appointed whom he 
 pleased to preach the 5th of November sermon. One of the prominent
 
 XII A PERIOD OF DECLENSION 251 
 
 The Archdeacon of Chichester, who in 1841 had already 
 publicly broken with the Puseyites, yet was anxious, 
 perhaps not unnaturally, to justify in private his ultra- 
 Protestant manifesto, which had given such grave offence to 
 Dr. Pusey, and Mr. Keble, and many other friends of 
 Newman. After failing to obtain admittance to Newman's 
 presence at Littlemore, Manning therefore endeavoured to 
 explain the motives of his 5th of November sermon to Dr. 
 Pusey in the following letter, dated Lavington, 22nd Sunday 
 after Trinity, 1843: — 
 
 ... I can no longer deny that a tendency against which my 
 whole soul turns has shown itself. It has precipitated those 
 that are impelled by it into a position remote from that in 
 which they stood, and from that in which I am. This has 
 suddenly severed them (so far at least, alas ! ) from me. With 
 the knowledge^ I communicated to you, it is an imperative 
 duty for me to be plainly true to myself at all cost and hazard. 
 It would be deceit to let them think I could feel anything but 
 sorrow and dismay, or do anything but use the poor and small 
 strength I have to save others from passing on blindfold and 
 unawares into the same perplexities with them. I feel to have 
 been for four years on the brink of I know not what ; all the 
 while persuading myself and others that all was well ; and more 
 — that none were so true and steadfast to the English Church ; 
 none so safe as guides. I feel as if I had been a deceiver 
 speaking lies (Cod knows, not in hypocrisy), and this has caused 
 a sort oJE shock in my mind that makes me tremble. Feel for 
 me in my position. Day after day I have been pledging myself 
 to clergymen and laymen all about me that all was safe and sure. 
 
 Tractarians of those days, in reference to the Whig 5th of November sermon 
 preached by Manning, writes to me as follows : — "The Vice-chancellor in 1843 
 was Dr. Wynter of St. John, a very keen Protestant, who never would have 
 given that sermon to Archdeacon Manning if he had not had good 
 reasons for believing the archdeacon to be a very sound Protestant too. 
 Dr. Wynter was at that time extremely hostile to the Tractarians, who had 
 the credit of spoiling his promotion to a bishopric which he longed for. He 
 and his successor in the Vice-chancellorship were very bitter foes of the 
 Puseyites, and we had troublous times." 
 
 ^ This "knowledge " was the letter which Newman wrote from Littlemore in 
 1843 to Manning, and which he forwarded to Pusey and Mr. Gladstone. 
 Both Mr. Gladstone and Manning interpreted Newman's letter as indicating 
 secession. Not so Dr. Pusey : see an extract from his letter to Mr. Gladstone 
 on the following page.
 
 252 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 I have been using his books, defending and endeavouring to 
 spread the system which carried this dreadful secret at its heart. 
 There remains for me nothing but to be plain henceforward on 
 points which hitherto I have almost resented, or ridiculed the 
 suspicion. I did so because I knew myself to be heartily true 
 to the English Church, both affirmatively in her positive 
 teaching, and negatively in her rejection of the Eoman system 
 and its differential points. I can do this no more. I am 
 reduced to the painful, saddening, sickening necessity of saying 
 what I feel about Rome. 
 
 Keferring to this sermon, Keble said long after, " I 
 always feared what would become of Manning when I 
 heard of his violent 5 th of November sermon. Exaggera- 
 tions of this kind provoke a Nemesis, and it did not surprise 
 me so much as it pained me to hear that he had become a 
 Eoman Catholic." -^ 
 
 In Canon Liddon's able and interesting Life of Br. Pusey, 
 Manning's visit to Littlemore is described once more as 
 follows : — 
 
 " It was when visiting Oxford on this occasion that Arch- 
 deacon Manning paid the visit to Littlemore, which has been 
 often described. Newman, who had heard of the sermon, 
 would not see the preacher, and desired one of the inmates of 
 the fiov-q to tell him so very civilly." 
 
 In a letter to Mr. Gladstone, dated November 1843, 
 Pusey wrote : — " Knowing Newman intimately, I do not 
 think that the portentous expressions in his letters (for- 
 warded to me by Manning) have a necessary or immediate 
 bearing upon certain steps of outward conduct." Writing 
 to Manning subsequently, Mr. Gladstone said, " Some con- 
 solation may be drawn from this letter of Pusey's." 
 
 When in 1885 the long- forgotten story of his 5th of 
 November sermon was revived by the publication of J. B. 
 Mozley's Letters, Cardinal Manning, hastened to put his 
 own construction on that untoward event, not, indeed, bv 
 way of exciting afresh a forgotten controversy, but in one 
 of those keen, critical Notes on passing events — on men 
 and books — which Cardinal Manning was in the habit of 
 
 ^ Life of E. B. Pusey, by H. P. Liddon, p. 378, footnote.
 
 XII A PERIOD OF DECLENSION" 253 
 
 putting down in one of his journals for his own satisfaction, 
 or for future use. The following is the Cardinal-archbishop's 
 apology in 1885 for the 5th of November sermon preached 
 in 1843 at St. Mary's, Oxford, by the Archdeacon of 
 Chichester : — 
 
 On 5th November 1843 I preached before the University, 
 and I denounced Gunpowder Plot and the Spanish Armada, and 
 the authority which wielded these weapons. I saw that, given 
 the Temporal Power of the Pope, his spiritual jurisdiction was 
 granted, the recovery of England to the faith was a supreme 
 duty to be attempted even by the Armada. I did not then 
 believe or understand the Temporal nor the Spiritual Power. I 
 believed it to be of the earth earthy, and the cause of schism, as 
 I had published in my book on the Unity of the Church. And 
 Mozley found fault with me. I saw that their position was un- 
 tenable. I have an able letter of Church's ^ in the " Red Books " 
 on my sermon as to the Temporal Power. They (Church and 
 Mozley) were right, and I was wrong, yet they ought to have been 
 where I am now before me, but the one is Dean of St. Paul's, and 
 the other accepted the Gorham Judgment. "It is not in man to 
 direct his steps," but it is in man to go astray. I remember I 
 had just heard of J. H. N.'s intention to become Catholic. It 
 threw me back. 
 
 Nearly two months after his 5 th of November sermon, 
 and after being refused admittance to Littlemore, trusting, 
 and not in vain, to Newman's magnanimity, Manning again 
 made approaches to the recluse of Littlemore, in a letter 
 full of protestations of personal friendship and of kindly 
 sympathy, with a special allusion to the offence he feared 
 he had committed. Such an approach or apology was a 
 characteristic act on the part of Manning, and in harmony 
 with the principle on which he consistently acted, as I have 
 shown in a later chapter (" The Double Voice "). He had 
 two duties to perform — one public, the other private. In 
 his Testification sermon at St. Mary's, Oxford, and in the 
 Charges delivered in 1841, 1842, and 1843, at Chichester 
 Cathedral, he had discharged what he considered a public 
 duty — a duty to himself and to the moderate High Church 
 party — he had publicly disowned Newman and the Tract- 
 
 ^ See Church's letter in Notes at the eud of the volume.
 
 254 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 arians, and had given pledges to the rampant Protestantism 
 of that angry day. A private duty remained to be fulfilled 
 — to be fulfilled in private — the duty of friendship and of 
 affection for Newman. Hence a letter couched in such 
 kindly terms of sympathy and inquiry as to elicit from 
 Newman the following reply : — 
 
 LiTTLEMORE, 2ith December 1843. 
 
 My dear Manning — How can I thank you enough for your 
 most kind letter received last night, and what can have led you 
 to entertain the thought that I could ever be crossed by the idea 
 which you consider may have been suggested to me by the name 
 of Orpah ? Really, unless it were so very sad a matter, I should 
 smile ; the thought is as far from me as the antipodes. Rather, 
 I am the person who to myself always seem, and reasonably, the 
 criminal, I cannot afford to have hard thoughts which can more 
 plausibly be exercised against myself. 
 
 And yet, to speak of myself, how could I have done other- 
 wise than I have done, or better 1 I own, indeed, to great pre- 
 sumption and recklessness in my mode of writing on ecclesi- 
 astical subjects on various occasions ; yet still I have honestly 
 trusted our Church and wished to defend her as she wished to 
 be defended. I was not surely wrong in defending her on that 
 basis on which our divines have ever built, and on which alone 
 they could pretend to build. And how could I foresee that, 
 when I examined that basis, I should feel it to require a system 
 different from hers, and that the Fathers to which she had led 
 me would lead me from her ? I do not, then, see that I have 
 been to blame, yet it would be strange if I had the heart to 
 blame others, who are honest in maintaining what I am aban- 
 doning. 
 
 It is no pleasure to me to differ from friends, no comfort to 
 be estranged from them, no satisfaction or boast to have said 
 things which I must unsay. Surely I will remain where I am 
 as long as I can. I think it right to do so. If my misgivings 
 are from above I shall be carried on in spite of my resistance. I 
 cannot regret in time to come having struggled to remain where 
 I found myself placed. And, believe me, the circumstance of 
 such men as yourself being contented to remain is the strongest 
 argument in favour of my own remaining. It is my constant 
 prayer that if others are right I may be drawn back, that 
 nothing may part us. — I am, my dear Manning, ever yours 
 affectionately, John H. Newman. 
 
 This letter of Newman's, accompanied by the expression
 
 XII A PERIOD OF DECLENSION 256 
 
 of Manning's own doubts and misgivings, was at once com- 
 municated to Mr. Gladstone. With his wonted fertility 
 of resource, in the following letter, dated Hawarden, 
 Sunday, 31st December 1843, Mr. Gladstone suggests 
 various modes and methods to avert the catastrophe he 
 dreaded : — 
 
 Hawarden, N.W., Sunday, S\st December 1843. 
 
 My dear Manning — I return the interesting and kind but 
 painful letter which you forwarded for my perusal. It shows 
 that a most formidable contingency is in the distance, more or 
 less remote. It may be indefinitely near, or indefinitely far. 
 Can the degree of remoteness be aff"ected by anything in your 
 power, under God, to do or to forbear 1 
 
 From the second of the three letters, taken alone, it would be 
 a legitimate inference that any particular act or decision, and 
 bishop's Charges this way or that, would have no influence upon 
 his mind. But from the first letter — from the note in his new 
 volume where he declares that the Church of England has lately 
 by the mouth of her rulers been taking the Protestant side, evi- 
 dently a preparation conscious or not — and from his conduct the 
 reverse is clearly the case. It is manifestly in the power of 
 bishops and others, though the degree may be uncertain, to 
 impel or retard his fatal course, and it should be deeply pondered 
 whether, by a discreet use of your knowledge, any beneficial 
 exercise of this power might be brought about. 
 
 Looking at the bishops' Charges as a whole, it seems to me 
 that, through timidity, they have overshot their mark, in the 
 Protestant sense, and that if there be no fresh sores opened, the 
 Charges of the next year or two will be much above those of the 
 last. This wUl be so far well. 
 
 Are there, however, any bishops — I think there must be 
 many — who believe that the event we know to be possible 
 would be to the Church an inexpressible calamity 1 These are 
 the men whom to contemplate in any practical measure. 
 
 By one word he gives you an excellent ground of approach — 
 the word "contented." Starting from that word you may, 
 though with a light touch, avow that you are — (1) Not con- 
 tented, but obliged ; perhaps it might be dangerous to add, (2) 
 Not contented, but thankful. Such writing might be a parable 
 to him. 
 
 Is he aware of the immense consequence that may hang upon 
 his movements ? His letters do not show it. If he is not, 
 either now or at some future time he ought to have his eyes 
 opened.
 
 256 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 AVhat is wanted is that cords of silk should one by one be 
 thrown over him to bind him to the Church. Everj^ manifesta- 
 tion of sympathy, and confidence in him as a man, must have 
 some small effect. I am even tempted myself (for he made me 
 an opening by kindly sending me his sermons) to ask him to 
 converse with me at some time on a passage in which he speaks 
 of the present temper of statesmen vnth regard to the Church. 
 ^^^lat say you to this 1 
 
 Whatever you do, may God prosper your counsels. — With 
 kindest remembrances, ever affectionately yours, 
 
 W. E. Gladstone. 
 
 In other letters, Mr. Gladstone and Manning bewailed 
 in common Newman's growing declension : — " The Newman 
 of 1843 is not the Newman of 1842 ; nor is he of '42 the 
 same with him of 1841 ; and how different, how far 
 drifted down, are any of those from the Newman of the 
 Romanism and ultra-Protestantism." Both Manning and 
 Mr. Gladstone alike believed in the Newman of the earlier 
 stage who with equal vehemence pitched into both " Roman- 
 ists " and ultra-Protestants. But from Newman liberated 
 from his earlier errors in regard to the Catholic Church ; 
 from Newman enlightened by study, prayer, and meditation, 
 both Mr. Gladstone and Manning shrank back in dread. 
 They appealed from " Philip sober to Philip drunk." 
 
 In a letter to Manning, 24th October 1843, Mr. Glad- 
 stone, speaking of Newman and of the Tracts so far as " I 
 knew them," said: — 
 
 I confess it always appeared to me that they were ever too 
 jealous of the suspicion of Romanism, too free in the epithets of 
 protest and censure which were to be taken as guarantees against 
 any accusation of the possibility of their fall. It is frightful, 
 too, I confess, to me to reflect upon the fact that such a man as 
 Newman is — for is it not so 1 — wavering in his allegiance, upon 
 any ground so impalpable as what he terms the general repudia- 
 tion of the view contained in Tract 90. 
 
 In regard to that famous Tract, which was the turning- 
 point of the Oxford Movement, it was stated in one of the 
 magazines, after Cardinal Manning's death, that he had 
 declared Tract 90 to be "dishonest." There is not the
 
 XII A PERIOD OF DECLENSION 257 
 
 slightest contemporary evidence that Manning had ever 
 pronounced such a judgment on Tract 90. The story was 
 merely one of those idle after -death statements which 
 attributed to Cardinal Manning words he had never 
 uttered, views or opinions which he had never held. No 
 one had a more intimate knowledge of Manning's mind, of 
 his views and opinions at the time of the publication of 
 Tract 90, than Mr. Gladstone. And Mr. Gladstone's testi- 
 mony is contained in the following letter, dated 25 th April 
 1892:— 
 
 Dear Mr. Purcell — I have not the smallest recollection 
 of Manning's treating Tract 90^ as "dishonest," and, except on 
 conclusive evidence, I should not believe it, though I myself 
 thought and think one or two of the arguments sophistical. I 
 do not recollect Manning's concurrence even in this idea, which 
 is one totally distinct from dishonesty. — Yours very faithfully, 
 
 W. E. Gladstone. 
 
 The truth is that the Archdeacon of Chichester objected 
 to Tract 90 not because he thought it "dishonest," but 
 because it was too pronounced in its statements of doctrine, 
 and because it was condemned by the Heads of Houses at 
 Oxford, by Church dignitaries, and by public opinion. 
 
 Although Newman had condoned Manning's Fifth of 
 November sermon, there was but little or no communication 
 between them subsequently. 
 
 In a letter to Manning, dated London, 8th November 
 1844, Mr. Gladstone remarks that, " again the rumour 
 about Newman seems to have blown over. I do not think 
 any one can judge how short or long this interval may be. " 
 
 In the same letter he asks, " Is your dean's sermon on 
 
 ^ Speaking of Tract 90, and its condemnation, Dean Church said : — "But 
 faith in the great leader was still strong. No. 90, if it had shocked or dis- 
 quieted some, had elicited equally remarkable expressions of confidence and 
 sympathy from others who might have been, at least, silent. The events of 
 the spring had made men conscious of what their leader was, and called 
 forth an enthusiastic alfection. It was not in vain that, whatever might be 
 thought of the wisdom or the reasonings of No. 90, he had shown the height 
 of his character, and the purity and greatness of his religious purpose ; and 
 being what he was in the eyes of all Oxford, he had been treated with con- 
 tumely, and had borne it with patience and loyal submission." — The Oxford 
 Movement, Twelve Years, 1833-1845, by R. W. Church, p. 272 ; Macmillan 
 and Co., 1891. 
 
 VOL. I S
 
 258 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 receiving a Komisb convert to be seen, or is it a secret ? The 
 narrative of Ciocci reviewed in the Dublin Review is 
 curious." ^ 
 
 Either in response to Mr. Gladstone's remark or out of 
 interest in Newman's trying position, Manning, a day or two 
 afterwards, wrote a sympathetic letter to Newman, which 
 brought from Littlemore in reply the following frank and 
 touching account : — 
 
 Littlemore, \Qth November 1844. 
 
 My dear Manning — I am going through what must be 
 gone through, and my trust only is that every day of pain is so 
 much from the necessary draught which must be exhausted. 
 There is no fear (humanly speaking) of my moving for a long time 
 yet. This has got out without my intending it, but it is all well. 
 
 As far as I know myself, my one great distress is the per- 
 plexity, unsettlement, alarm, scepticism, which I am causing to 
 so many, and the loss of kind feeling and good opinion on the 
 part of so many, known and unknown, who have wished well to 
 me. And of those two sources of pain, it is the former is the 
 constant, urgent, unmitigated one. I had for days a literal 
 ache all about my heart, and from time to time all the com- 
 plaints of the Psalmist seemed to belong to me. 
 
 And, as far as I know myself, my one paramount reason for 
 contemplating a change is my deep, unvarying conviction that 
 our Church is in schism and my salvation depends on my joining 
 the Church of Rome. I may use argumenta ad hominem to 
 this person or that, but I am not conscious of resentment, or 
 disgust, at anything that has happened to me. I have no 
 visions whatever of hope, no schemes of action, in any other 
 sphere more suited to me ; I have no existing sympathies with 
 Roman Catholics ; I hardly ever, even abroad, was at one of 
 their services ; I know none of them ; I do not like what I hear 
 of them. 
 
 And then, how much I am giving up in so many ways, and 
 to me sacrifices irreparable, not only from my age, when people 
 hate changing, but from my especial love of old associations 
 and the pleasures of memory. 
 
 Nor am I conscious of any feeling, enthusiastic or heroic, of 
 pleasure in the sacrifice ; I have nothing to support me here. 
 
 Wliat keeps me yet is what has kept me long — a fear that I 
 am under a delusion ; but the conviction remains firm under all 
 circumstances, in all frames of mind. And this most serious 
 
 ^ See the Dublin Review, October 1844.
 
 XII A PERIOD OF DECLENSION 259 
 
 feeling is growing on me, viz. that the reasons for which I 
 believe as miich as our system teaches, must lead me to believe 
 more, and not to believe more, is to fall back into scepticism. 
 
 A thousand thanks for your most kind and consoling letter, 
 though I have not yet spoken of it. It was a great gift. — 
 Ever yoiu-s affectionately, John H. Newman. 
 
 This letter of Newman's was forwarded to Mr. Gladstone, 
 who, in a reply to Manning, dated Whitehall, 23 rd Novem- 
 ber 1844, says: — 
 
 I return to you Newman's letter, and need hardly specify 
 with what deep and what painful interest I have read it. In a 
 recent note to me he has disclosed a small part of the same 
 feeling. This you shall see and hear about when you come up. 
 
 In another passage : — 
 
 Newman's letter is a step in advance towards the precipice ; 
 yet it still remains impossible to say how many more paces may 
 remain between him and its edge. 
 
 In the following autobiographical Note, of a late date. 
 Cardinal Manning minimises or passes over his early connec- 
 tion with the Tractarian movement and his intimacy with 
 its illustrious leader : — 
 
 I remember that I had just heard of J. H. Newman's inten- 
 tion to become Catholic.^ It threw me back. As select preacher ^ 
 I had to preach on 5th November. I took it as the occasion to 
 declare my independence. I had never been one of the company 
 of men who were working in Oxford. I knew them all, I agreed 
 in most things, not from contact with them ; but because at 
 Lavington I read by myself in the same direction. I therefore 
 acted with them in Hampden's condemnation, in opposing 
 Ward's degradation, and the like. But, as Newman said, I was 
 an external, independent witness ; for my work and field were 
 my parish, archdeaconry, and frequent work in London. I was 
 related to some 200 clergy, and to many persons and duties, 
 especially official duties, which cut me off from Oxford, and made 
 my line wholly unlike an Oxford and literary life. I went on 
 reading and working out the sum by myself; and on looking 
 back, seem to see a constant advance, without deviations, or 
 
 ^ Newman himself told us in his Apologia pro vitd sud that in retiring to 
 Littlemore he had no idea or intention of becoming a Catholic. 
 * See footnote 4, pp. 250-251.
 
 260 CARDINAL MANNING chap, xii 
 
 going back ; so that my faith of to-day rests upon the work of 
 all the chief years of my life. I can see one principle and a 
 steady equable advance. This I believe to be the leading of 
 the Holy Ghost. Nothing but this would have preserved my 
 intellect from wandering, and my will from resistance. 
 
 If it be difficult, with the evidence before us, to admit 
 Cardinal Manning's theory of continuity of principle — " a 
 constant advance, without deviations, or going back " — in his 
 religious opinions ; it is all but impossible to accept his 
 conclusion that during the whole of his Protestant life, 
 Evangelical and Anglican — at any rate up to the year 
 1845 — " his intellect was preserved from wandering and his 
 will from resistance by the leading of the Holy Ghost." 
 
 The truth is, that Manning in those days still had an 
 absolute and stubborn belief in the Church of England as 
 guided by the Holy Ghost in all truth. In those days he 
 still sat with eyes unseeing in the darkness, at the feet of a 
 teacher who, under a false title, and by misleading claims, 
 held him captive ; who beguiled in that day — and, alas ! still 
 binds and beguiles, for our sins perhaps, or for the sins of 
 our forefathers, many a profound intellect, many a noble 
 nature, too many a true and God-fearing heart. The day 
 had not yet dawned — the day appointed of God — the star 
 had not risen as yet, which, like the Star that guided the 
 wise men in the East, was to lead his " slow but sure 
 steps " into the Church of God ; was to lead the assailant of 
 the Papacy at Chichester and at Oxford into the Vatican 
 Council, as the foremost champion of Papal Infallibility ; as 
 a loving and obedient son of the successor of St. Peter.
 
 CHAPTEE XIII 
 
 PUBLIC LIFE AND TEMPTATIONS TO SECIJLAKITY 
 
 1841-1846 
 
 Archdeacon Manning's rupture with Newman and the 
 Tractarian party was a turning-point in his Anglican career. 
 Dissociated from an unpopular party and a losing cause — 
 as Tractarianism was regarded on Newman's retirement to 
 Littlemore — prospects of a great ecclesiastical and public 
 career were opened up to the Archdeacon of Chichester. 
 The ambitions of his undergraduate days were revived. It 
 was not now a seat in the House of Commons which he 
 aspired to, but a seat as a spiritual peer in the House of 
 Lords. It was not a vain and empty aspiration, born of his 
 oratorical triumphs at the Union, but a well-grounded hope 
 within the bounds of probability. Mr. Gladstone remembers 
 well Bishop Phillpotts of Exeter saying to him about this 
 period — " No power on earth can keep Manning from the 
 Bench," " It was true at the time," Mr. Gladstone remarked, 
 " the Bishop of Exeter knew well what he was speaking 
 about, but not later — not after the full effect of Newman's 
 secession was felt, not after the Papal Aggression outcry, 
 for both we and Disraeli had made up our mind not to give 
 the mitre to anyone connected with the ' unholy thing.' " 
 " But," Mr. Gladstone added, " his tact and moderation, and 
 the art which he possessed in a singular degree of conciliating 
 even the most adverse opinions, made all his friends believe 
 at the time that, like his brother-in-law Bishop Wilberforce, 
 Manning in his turn was sure to receive the mitre." ^ 
 
 ^ This belief was shared by Newman and his friends at Littlemore. The
 
 262 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 His private Diary of this date bears ample witness to 
 the hopes and ambitions which troubled his spirit and per- 
 plexed his judgment, and not infrequently records the 
 remorse of heart he felt at the " secularity " of his life in 
 London. But these confessions and self-examinations must 
 be taken as the shrinkings of a sensitive conscience, 
 wounded by the temptations to a worldly career which for 
 a while beset his heart or imagination. In Manning, the 
 instincts of an ecclesiastical statesman predominated over the 
 sensitive spirit and the reforming zeal of a theologian, or the 
 logical conclusions of a thinker. If at Oxford, Newman's 
 main aim and work was to purge the English Church of its 
 Protestantism — which he regarded as an unhappy accident 
 — and to bring its teachings and practices into accord with 
 the doctrines and devotions of Catholic antiquity, Man- 
 ning's heart was set on liberating the Church of England 
 from its bondage to the Civil Power. The divine rage of 
 the Tractarians was directed against heresy in the Church ; 
 Manning's mind was filled with hatred of its Erastianism. 
 " Give " — or restore, as he would say, — " Eestore its liberty 
 of action to the Church of England, and all things else 
 would set themselves right." 
 
 In his correspondence and conversations with Mr. Glad- 
 stone, Manning insisted strongly " on the right of the 
 Church to the exclusive government of its own affairs ; and 
 denied the competency of Parliament, as a purely secular 
 body, to interfere in any way, even with the temporalities 
 of the Church." To this Mr. Gladstone, who concurred 
 generally in Manning's views of the right of the Church to 
 self-government, replies : — " I do not think I take quite so 
 strong a view as you do of the de jure disqualifications of 
 
 late Father Lockhart, who was a friend and disciple of Newman's at Little- 
 more, confirmed this common belief in the following statement: — "Until 
 he (Archdeacon Manning) took this step (submission to the Catholic Church) 
 I do not think that Newman and those that went with him in 1845 
 into Catholic communion believed that the Archdeacon would ever become 
 a Catholic. It was thought for certain, while I was with Newman at Little- 
 more, that he meant to remain an Anglican, that he would become a bishop, 
 and, in fact, tliat he had a grand career before liim in the Church of England." 
 — "Personal Reminiscences of Cardinal Manning," by William Lockhart, 
 Dublin Review, p. 377, April 1892.
 
 XIII PUBLIC LIFE AND TEMPTATIONS TO SECULARITY 263 
 
 Parliament to counsel the Crown touching the Church in 
 matters primarily or partially relating to her temporalities." 
 Manning had a rooted antipathy to the interference of lay- 
 men in the affairs of the Church, whether as regards its 
 temporalities or spiritualities, or those mixed questions, 
 which Mr, Gladstone contended might be properly delegated 
 to a mixed tribunal. What the archdeacon was working 
 for, was the establishment of provincial synods under the 
 Archbishop of Canterbury as the supreme spiritual head of 
 the Church for the government of all Church matters. 
 In support of this project. Manning, who was an ecclesi- 
 astical diplomatist as well as a practical man of business, 
 relied on Mr. Gladstone's aid in influencing the chiefs of 
 his political party. That such a scheme, which was nothing 
 less than revolutionising the whole theory and practice of 
 the Established Church, should have been considered within 
 the range of practical politics, shows the immense gulf 
 which separates our unecclesiastical days, with Disestablish- 
 ment " in the air," from those when the present prime 
 minister^ was " the hope of the stern and unbending Tories." 
 In reply to Manning's plans and suggestions for transferring 
 the management of things ecclesiastical from Crown and 
 Parliament to Provincial Synods, Mr. Gladstone says, among 
 other things : — 
 
 Now the question is, how best to prepare men's minds for 
 such a government, and make them feel the want of it 1 Here 
 I should doubt if you have much of immediate countenance to 
 anticipate from the heads of the political party friendly to the 
 Church. Strange to say, it is a novel subject, like that of all 
 forgotten duties. 
 
 The tendencies and prepossessions, or what Manning 
 called the Erastian principles of the bishops, formed often 
 matter of discussion. In reference to his plan of a Pro- 
 vincial Synod, Mr. Gladstone put the following pertinent 
 objection : — 
 
 And among the bishops, who is there ready to support it ? I 
 do not know that we have affirmative evidence from any : even 
 
 ' This passage was in type before Mr. Gladstone had resigned office.
 
 264 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 if we might conjecture as we wished of one or two. I confess, 
 therefore, that I look to the clergy themselves to operate on 
 public opinion and on their flocks in endeavouring to make the 
 want felt, and to show the reasonableness of the principle. This 
 result must flow out of the ministry which teaches the doctrine 
 of the Church as a living body ; for, if a living body, she must 
 have a living unity of organisation. 
 
 I do not think the difficulties are in the nature of the thing, 
 but in the existing prejudice and want of information. Convoca- 
 tion should not be our permanent government, but as the worm 
 to the chrysalis, or rather the butterfly. The existence of the 
 Convocation might enable the Crown, if well inclined, to advance 
 the cause greatly more than if at the outset the subject could 
 only be handled in Parliament. 
 
 If what I have written should appear to you indefinite or in- 
 sufficient, or both, at all events do not let this have the effect of 
 checking our free communications on the subject. 
 
 From these free and constant communications by letter 
 and word of mouth, it appears that Archdeacon Manning 
 held in too absolute a sense the right of the Church to 
 be altogether independent of the Civil power, denying alike 
 to Crown and Parliament a share even in the regulation 
 of temporalities ; whilst Mr. Gladstone, though fully con- 
 curring in Manning's view of the absolute independence 
 of the Church in spiritual matters, yet claims for Parlia- 
 ment and Crown a right of regulation in mixed questions. 
 On this subject Mr. Gladstone wrote as follows: — 
 
 I am quite clear that Parliament is not a body competent to 
 conduct the whole legislation of the Church, or any of its legisla- 
 tion, except such as is mixed in its nature, having reference 
 primarily to temporalities. Over these I do think it may claim 
 a right of regulation, though I am not prepared to say an ex- 
 clusive one. But I cannot take the refuge offered by the other 
 branch of your supposition, namely, the view of Parliament as a 
 purely secular body. I yet hold and feel that kings ought to be 
 nursing fathers of the Church, and that the road from " separation 
 of Church and State " to Atheism is, if indirect, yet broad and 
 open. 
 
 To put his finger on the central pulse of political and 
 ecclesiastical life ; to aid even by a word of counsel spoken 
 in season, in the shaping of things ecclesiastical ; to stand
 
 XIII rUBLIC LIFE AND TEMPTATIONS TO SECULARITY 265 
 
 as fellow-worker by the side of the makers of history was 
 to a man of Manning's temperament the keenest of life's 
 delights. It was more — it was a duty. As a believer in 
 churchcraft, as well as in statecraft, Manning held that the 
 interests of the Church he loved so well could be better 
 advanced by action at headquarters than by controversy at 
 Oxford. To the ecclesiastical statesman, what were the 
 subtleties of theology, the study of the Fathers, the claims 
 or disclosures of Catholic antiquity, compared with the 
 unloosing of the locks of action at Westminster ? What 
 the effects of Tract 90 towards the revival of Catholic life 
 in the Church of England, compared to the granting by the 
 Crown of self-government to the Church ; what the pulpit 
 of St. Mary's, Oxford, to the antechamber of a minister in 
 Downing Street ? 
 
 Manning set to work with a will in his favourite pur- 
 suit ; conferred with leading or rising men in the political 
 or literary world ; made the acquaintance, at Mr. Glad- 
 stone's house, of Harcourt, Archbishop of York, and of 
 Bishop Blomfield of London.^ But too soon he found out, 
 as Mr. Gladstone had warned him, that little was to be 
 hoped for, even from the Tories, the religious-minded party 
 in the State; still less from the Bench of Bishops, who in 
 contented ease or indifference wore the livery of the State 
 and hugged their chains. The disappointed archdeacon in 
 his despair exclaimed : " We must wait until the existing 
 race of bishops expires." 
 
 But Manning never gave up a plan on which his heart 
 was set. If bishops were deaf to his call, or too lazy to 
 move ; if a statesman like Sir Eobert Peel with Maynooth 
 — the rock of danger in that day — staring him in the face, 
 was afraid to stir or speak on behalf of the Church ; if 
 Lord John Eussell was lying in wait, eager to pounce again 
 upon the High Church party and renew insults like to that 
 
 1 13 Carlton House Terrace, 22?ui April 1841. 
 
 My dear Manning — I see you are coming to town again. On Tuesday 
 the Archbishop of York, the Bishop of London, and Dr. Hook are engaged 
 to dine with us, and if you would come in about nine your company would 
 be very acceptable. . . . — Affectly. yours, W. E. Gladstone.
 
 266 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 of the Hampden appointment ; yet there was still open an 
 appeal to public opinion on behalf of the Church's claim 
 to self-government. Mr. Gladstone had urged upon his 
 friend and fellow-worker the duty of every clergyman to 
 impress upon his flock Catholic principles in regard to 
 Church government, and especially to create in rising men, 
 not only a desire for liberty of the Church, but a sense of 
 its reasonableness. But what could the Ai'chdeacon of 
 Chichester do towards this end ? He was a stranger, de-' 
 pendent on the hospitality of churches for a pulpit. He 
 had no foothold of his own in London. A AoQage church 
 and a rural archdeaconry aftbrded no scope for the work 
 he aimed at. Not in stagnant country life could such a 
 work be accomplished, or even attempted. The preacher- 
 ship of Lincoln's Inn, which was vacant, would have afforded 
 just such an opportunity as Manning stood in need of. It 
 was, however, a prize much coveted. The archdeacon was 
 one of the first and foremost candidates. Mr. Gladstone 
 exerted all his energy and influence on his friend's behalf. 
 James Hope, Thomas Acland and other friends carried on 
 an active canvass. It was a close and exciting contest.^ 
 The Record and its friends, unappeased by his recent Low 
 Church and Gunpowder Plot sermon at Oxford, opposed 
 Manning tooth and nail, with the result that he lost the 
 election. It was a rare disappointment to the archdeacon, for 
 he sorely wanted such a footing in London as the Lincoln's Inn 
 preachership would have given him. In his hands it might 
 have become, if not a centre of profound theological investi- 
 gations, or of speculative thinking and inquiry, yet a centre 
 of activity to create or promote a new Church pohty.^ 
 
 The following letters testify to the deep interest and 
 
 ^ " Gladstone has just put me forward for the preachership of Lincoln's 
 Inn. I have canvassed nohody, and, God helping me, never will, nor even 
 ask anything. I should not have consented even thus far, but that I felt I 
 ought to give myself to them that had a right to ask it of me." — Archdeacon 
 Manning's Diary, November (1843). 
 
 - In a letter to Manning, dated Whitehall, 22nd November 1843, mainly 
 about the absence of vigorous action on the part of Pusey to stop defections, 
 Mr. Gladstone congratulated Manning on standing for the Lincoln's Inn 
 preachership as follows : — "So you are launched for the preachership. God 
 speed you."
 
 XIII rUBLIC LIFE AND TEMPTATIONS TO SECULARITY 267 
 
 activity shown by Mr. Gladstone and James Hope in 
 promoting Manning's canvass for the Preachership. The 
 failure in securing his election was nearly as deep a dis- 
 appointment to Mr. Gladstone as to Manning himself : — 
 
 Whitehall, 16th Nov. 1843. 
 
 My dear Manning — I write to Hope asking to see him on 
 your letter to-morrow morning, and I send this for his perusal, 
 on its way to the post. In my view it is impossible to learn 
 definitely whether a wish prevails among the Benchers " ex- 
 tensively " for your being put in nomination. Assuming that 
 they are ready to elect you in preference to any other man, 
 still I do not think, at least I do not see, how the inquiry could 
 be carried far enough to obtain such information, without 
 becoming substantially a canvass. 
 
 I think we have already that general evidence of a favourable 
 disposition which ought to induce you to proceed, provided some 
 one person in a fashionable position will in the popular phrase 
 take you up. Justice Coleridge's opinion is that we should 
 urge the Vice-Cliancellor to declare himself in this sense, he 
 having already spoken favourably ; and I should have done 
 this to-day but that the restrained terms of your letter make 
 me doubt whether I am at liberty to do so. 
 
 You have already I believe sent or kept men out of the field 
 — Merivale, for example, not to mention Palmer — this of itself 
 goes some way to decide the question — not all, I freely admit. 
 
 As to the question of a call to this office, it seems to me that 
 you have every indication of it which can be gathered from 
 special fitness universally allowed, and from highly favourable 
 though as yet immature indications on the part of the electors. 
 
 If you are not prepared to let Hope and me go forward on 
 the condition that if the V.C. adopts you, you will declare 
 yourself — write and say so strongly — I will not, however, 
 say it is impossible that after a conversation to-morrow we may 
 act for you without waiting. — Aff"ectionately yours, 
 
 W. E. Gladstone. 
 
 Whitehall, I8th Nov. 1843. 
 
 My dear IVIanning — I have just seen the Vice-Chancellor, 
 who announces that he will support you. He agrees in your 
 repudiation of personal canvass. He will see that your name 
 is bruited at any meeting of Benchers upon the subject ; one 
 had been appointed for next Monday but it is put off. He will 
 also moot the question as occasion may ofler. He states that 
 he does not remember any canvass by Bishop Heber or Bishop
 
 268 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 Lloyd. He supports you as the best man, and likewise on 
 account of a personal friendship of his ; but he strongly holds 
 to the former position. I have therefore now to beg you 
 forth-vvith to address an oflficial letter to Rt. Hon. Sir J. L. 
 Knight Bruce, Vice-Chancellor, Treasurer to the Hon. Society 
 of Lincoln's Inn, The Priory, Roehampton, London, declaring 
 yourself a candidate. 
 
 It is bald and ungracious to say in such a note I shall not 
 canvass ; but Hope and I think you may very well imply what 
 is equivalent, and convey that negative by something positive 
 in its immediate form — e.g. that having thus placed yourself 
 at the command of the Benchers, you w-ill await their decision 
 with respect ; but you are not the man to require instruction, 
 and least of all from me, upon a matter of expression. I 
 thought it well however to give you our idea. 
 
 You may take the vacancy for a certainty. Hope will see 
 the V.C. Knight Bruce to-morrow. — Ever affectionately yours, 
 
 W. E. Gladstone. 
 
 On learning the result of the Lincoln's Inn election, Mr. 
 Gladstone, who, like Manning, was much disappointed at 
 the action of the Benchers, wrote as follows : — 
 
 Whitehall, \'ith Jan. 1844. 
 
 My DEAR ]\Ianning — I am sorely disappointed about the 
 Lincoln's Inn Election, the result of which is highly disparaging 
 to the Benchers. 
 
 If I could persuade myself that it would have any detrimental 
 eflfect on your reputation, this is the moment at which I should 
 acutely regi-et having endeavoured to move you forward in the 
 business. I cannot, however, say that I am under that impression. 
 
 But as a benefit missed is sometimes equivalent to an evil 
 inflicted, I do deeply feel the loss of an opportunity of advancing 
 the cause of truth in the Church by an appointment which 
 would also have been, I think and believe it will be admitted, 
 also by far the most honourable to the intellectual character of 
 the Benchers.^ 
 
 Whatever may come of any such matter, your work is 
 appointed for you, and you for it, and none will come between. 
 
 I have, however, been guilty of a political error, a false 
 calculation, arising from over- confidence. In this I trust you 
 will pardon me, and believe me always affectionately yours, 
 
 W. E. Gladstone, 
 
 1 Mr. Gladstone said quite recently: — "The man so shamefully preferred 
 to Manning by the Benchers left his parish in debt and borrowed a sovereign 
 from the gate-keeper."
 
 XIII PUBLIC LIFE AND TEMPTATIONS TO SECULARITY 269 
 
 Whitehall, 1 5th Jan. 1844. 
 
 My dear Manning — I have read your letter with even more 
 of interest and sympathy than usual. Such letters are to be 
 felt, remembered, and pondered, not to be answered. But let 
 me say this. If I expressed a fear as to your reputation, it is 
 not in the view of your reputation as a personal or as a worldly 
 good. But because your character is a part of the property of 
 the Church, and of the Truth in the Church, and must be 
 husbanded for the sake of its association with that truth. 
 
 Nor did my miscalculations arise from my being blinded by 
 my personal regard or affection. They arose out of a belief 
 that the Benchers would be guided by comparative fitness. My 
 impressions as to this latter point might be affected by personal 
 motives — but I have found no one who thinks them erroneous 
 or exaggerated. 
 
 I have had great pleasure in falling in once more with 
 Charles Wordsworth, who is in town. — Ever affectionately yours, 
 
 W. E. Gladstone. 
 
 Van. Archdeacon of Chichester. 
 
 The year which witnessed Archdeacon Manning's failure 
 to obtain the Lincoln's Inn preachership, witnessed the 
 elevation of his brother-in-law, Archdeacon Wilberforce, to 
 the Bench of Bishops. In the year 1845, he was appointed 
 by the Crown to the See of Oxford, rendered vacant by the 
 promotion of Bishop Bagot. The Wilberforce interest was 
 very great, and Samuel Wilberforce, who was the most dis- 
 tinguished pulpit orator of his day in the Church of 
 England, was very moderate in the expression of his 
 religious opinions. " It was not," as Mr. Gladstone once 
 remarked, " until after he became bishop that Sam WHber- 
 force developed his High Church views. The prospect of a 
 mitre," added Mr. Gladstone with a smile, " exerts a great 
 restraining power over churchmen." The promotion of 
 Wilberforce set men thinking and talking of Manning's 
 chances of preferment. It was hoped, especially since his 
 recent repudiation of the Oxford Movement, that he might 
 in time Hve down his early connection with Newman and 
 the Tractarians. 
 
 Already indications were not wanting that the way was 
 being made smooth for Manning's promotion. On his being 
 made Bishop of Oxford, Wilberforce resigned the Sub-
 
 270 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 almonership to the Queen, which he held under the 
 Archbishop of York ; and before the close of the year, 
 through Wilberforce's influence, it was offered to his brother- 
 in-law. 
 
 To show in what high esteem Archdeacon IManning was 
 held at that time by such men as F. D. Maurice, the 
 following passage from a letter of his will suffice. The 
 letter was dated "Madeira Vale, Bonchurch, 15th Sep- 
 tember 1843." After speaking of "much pleasant refresh- 
 ment both bodily and spiritual," which he enjoyed with 
 Wilberforce during a few days spent at Alverstoke and 
 with Manning at Lavington, Maurice goes on as follows : — 
 
 Manning is one of the completest, perhaps the completest 
 man I ever met with ; there are doubtless deficiencies, which 
 completeness itself implies, seeing that the incomplete is that 
 which is ever seeking the infinite and eternal to fill up its hollows ; 
 and in him there is logical rotundity which I should not 
 wish for. But it is united with so much appreciation of every- 
 thing good, such great refinement, tolerance, and kindliness, that 
 I know not where one would look rather for a Avise and true 
 bishop in these times. ^ 
 
 In public labours of this practical kind. Manning was in 
 his element. He was in active communication with Cabinet 
 ministers. His busy hand was helping to modify or amend 
 the laws of his country. He was working in harmony with 
 men of different and often of conflicting religious opinions 
 in building up the Church, as by law established, at home, 
 and in creating for it a new sphere of action in our Colonial 
 Empire. His eloquent speech and fruitful labours in a 
 common cause were rewarded by public recognition and 
 applause. Whilst, on the other hand, Newman and the 
 Oxford men, engaged in the arduous task of reviving in the 
 English Church a lost faith, or in transmuting the dross of 
 its Thirty -nine Articles into the pure gold of Catholic 
 doctrine, were overwhelmed with abuse from pulpit and 
 platform and in the public press. But concurrently with 
 
 1 Extract from the Life of Frederick Dcnison Maurice, vol. i. p. 350, 
 published by Messrs. Macniillan, 1S84 ; transcribed by the Cardinal in one 
 of his Journals.
 
 XIII PUBLIC LIFE AND TEMPTATIONS TO SECULARITY 271 
 
 his practical and public labours on behalf of the Church 
 Manning was working out his way towards the recovery of 
 Catholic Truth. The Unity of the Church, which Mr. 
 Gladstone considers Manning's greatest production, was 
 published in 1842. Speaking three or four years ago, of 
 this sermon, Mr. Gladstone said : — " Manning has never sur- 
 passed that work. In writing his ' Life ' as an Anglican, 
 you will find in it the best illustration of his religious 
 opinions, though, perhaps, in parts, it is somewhat wanting 
 in depth and solidity." To this eulogy of the Unity of the 
 Church, Cardinal Manning remarked : — " Mr. Gladstone has 
 good reason for praising that work ; for it was the best 
 apology I could make for the Anglican Church — and the 
 last. At that time Mr. Gladstone and I were of one mind. 
 The book was affectionately inscribed to him ; but Mr. 
 Gladstone unhappily remains to-day, where I left him in 
 1842." 
 
 In a letter, dated 13 Carlton House Terrace, 30 th June 
 1842, to Manning, Mr. Gladstone made the following re- 
 marks on the Unity of the Church : — 
 
 On Sunday last, however, I was able to read Part III. and 
 my say upon it is easily said — that you have handled that part 
 of the subject, it is manifest, with great felicity as well as with 
 your usual clearness. If you happen to have read the twelfth 
 sermon of Newman's sixth volume, you will have seen that he 
 there vmfolds the mitigating and just view of the exclusive 
 principle which you also have given — I mean that you correspond 
 in substance. And I wish for the interests of truth that this 
 had been more sedulously enforced upon public attention by the 
 Oxford writers in the Tracts and other publications with which 
 they have been connected. . . . Hope seemed very much pleased 
 with the general notion of your work; I do not mean that 
 he stumbled at particulars, but he was not, I believe, minutely 
 acquainted with them." 
 
 In his Journal, dated 15th November 1888, Cardinal 
 Manning gave the following account of the genesis of this 
 sermon : — 
 
 In 1841 I preached the Unity of the Church and dedicated 
 it to Gladstone. His letter above referred to speaks of this.
 
 272 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 The book arose in this way. His (Gladstone's) book on Church 
 and State suggested it as wanting to his argument. The 
 subject of unity was then pressing on us partly by the Tracts for 
 the Tim^s, and partly by Dr. Wiseman's Moorfield Lectures and 
 articles in the Dublin Review. 
 
 The Warden of Merton asked me whether I would undertake 
 the Bampton Lectures. I said, " I would see if I could." This 
 made me read up and write, what is really only the outline of 
 such a course. Events came which made it impossible, and I 
 finished it in haste. The third and last part was done very 
 hastily. It was an honest attempt to justify the position of 
 the Church of England, and to claim for it pastoral succession 
 and sacraments. I do not think there is any anti-Roman 
 declamation or animus. It was a case for the defendant, with 
 what reason I could, and without passion. And if there were 
 not an antecedent truth — the mission, prescience, and office of 
 the Holy Ghost — it would not be easily answered. But this 
 wipes it all oiit. 
 
 The establishment of the Jerusalem bishopric under the 
 joint protection of England and Prussia, as the two most 
 prominent Protestant nations, was Bunsen's pet project, in 
 the view of setting up the influence of Prussia in Palestine. 
 That it succeeded only shows once more the essential 
 Protestantism of the ruling authorities and of the Bench of 
 Bishops. Manning, though he still blessed the Reformation 
 and its results in England, viewed with just abhorrence the 
 Protestantism of the Continent. By the establishment of the 
 Jerusalem bishopric, the Church of England was, with the 
 consent of the bishops, and by the act of the State, formally 
 and officially identified with the Protestantism of Prussia. 
 On signing the Thirty -nine Articles, Prussian Ministers of 
 religion whose creed was the Augsburg Confession of Faith, 
 were to be ordained by the Archbishop of Canterbury. 
 Manning appealed to Mr. Gladstone for help and counsel to 
 avert this shame and degradation from the Church of 
 England. The High Church party were thrown into con- 
 fusion by the action of the bishops. Low Churchmen and 
 Dissenters celebrated as a signal triumph this public 
 identification of the common Protestantism of England and 
 the Continent. The Tractarians, of course, spoke out 
 without fear or hesitation, and denounced the scheme as
 
 XIII PUBLIC LIFE AND TEMPTATIONS TO SECULARITY 273 
 
 committing the Church of England to an act of heresy, to 
 which the bishops were a consenting party. Of the High 
 Church party Mr. Gladstone was perhaps the most active 
 and resolute. To Manning, in a letter, dated London, 30 th 
 November 1841, he wrote as follows: — "I should exceed- 
 ingly desire to go through the whole subject of the Jerusalem 
 bishopric." ^ Manning did his best to aid Mr. Gladstone 
 in opposing the scheme, but their efforts were unavailing. 
 
 During these eager years, the Archdeacon of Chichester, 
 in constant communication or contact with leading men in 
 Church and State and letters, made, wherever he went, his 
 influence felt. He conciliated opponents ; removed, with 
 far-reaching foresight, obstacles from his path, and made 
 sure the foundations of his future career. To show the 
 range of his social pursuits, it will suffice to say that Arch- 
 deacon Manning was in 1844 presented at Court, attended 
 levies and drawing-rooms , visited both Houses of Parlia- 
 ment — or as, later in life, the Cardinal described his first 
 visit to the House of Lords, " Sat on the steps of the 
 throne," ^ made friends for himself, went out to dinner parties 
 and frequented clubs as eclectic as the Sterling Club, In 
 a word. Manning entered into the world in which his 
 friend Mr. Gladstone lived, and in which his brother-in-law, 
 Sam Wilberforce, fascinated the brilliant society in which 
 he moved and breathed, and to which he preached. In this 
 course of social pleasures, as Cardinal Manning recorded in 
 a Journal, dated 15th January 1882, 
 
 There were, however, two things which always checked me. 
 First, all my life I have been always ailing and never failing. I 
 caught cold one late evening at cricket at Harrow. It fell on 
 
 ^ In the correspondence which passed between Mr. Gladstone and Arch- 
 deacon Manning on the subject of the Jerusalem bishopric, Mr. Gladstone 
 lamented, that all he could effect by way of amendment was to substitute in 
 the formal Act of Agreement, instead of united action between England and 
 Prussia, the words between " the Queen of England and the King of Prussia." 
 This amendment Mr. Gladstone hoped would give to the united action a 
 personal instead of a national character. 
 
 2 I remember sitting on the steps of the throne in the House of Lords and 
 Bishop Blomfield introducing me to the Bishop of New York. It was the 
 Catholic Archbishop Hughes, as I found ; but Bishop Blomfield did not 
 know it. — Cardinal Manning's Jcmrnal, 1878-82. 
 
 VOL. I T
 
 274 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 my chest; and for ten years I suffered severely from asthma, 
 ... I suspect I have had gout in the stomach all my life : 
 whatever gout means I do not know, but I mean a constant risk 
 of gastric heat and an inability to take the quantity of food 
 common with other men. This gave me always a dislike of 
 long dinners and of dining out. Society at this cost was bought 
 too dear. 
 
 The other check upon me was an impatience at the loss of time. 
 My friends used to watch me and laugh when I took my watch out : 
 I had always something saying, " What doest thou here, Elias ? " 
 
 The time given to society was not time wasted for 
 " Elias," though he may not have known it. His pleasant 
 manners and lively conversation won golden opinions 
 for him wherever he went. Mr. Pdchmond, the celebrated 
 painter, once told me that at one of Miss Burdett 
 Coutts's (as she was then) famous Thursday dinner parties, 
 consisting of four persons only, Archdeacon Manning 
 and himself met Young, the comic actor, who was much 
 graver than the archdeacon, for Manning kept the table 
 alive by his humorous anecdotes, of which he possessed an 
 almost inexhaustible fund. On that occasion Young said 
 to Mr. Eichmond, " I always read with intense delight and 
 edification the archdeacon's sermons, but I am sorry to say 
 he never comes to the theatre to be edified in his turn." Mr. 
 Eichmond added, " Mr. Irving, I know, reads to-day with real 
 interest and pleasure Cardinal Manning's writings." When 
 I told this to the Cardinal he was as surprised as he was 
 pleased, and said with his quiet smile, " I thought they all 
 looked upon me as a black sheep." ^ 
 
 With his innate love for clubs and their varied society, 
 pleasant ways and sociable talk, which never deserted him 
 to the end of his life, it is not surprising that Manning was 
 a frequenter of one so attractive and select as the Sterling 
 Club. Mr. Gladstone remembers the club well. "We 
 used to meet," he says, " for the purpose of conversation 
 and discussion. Its charm consisted in meeting with men 
 of the most various opinions, and the talk often elicited a 
 manifestation or conflict of antagonistic principles. Wilber- 
 
 ^ See an autobiographical Note, dated 1890, in Vol. II., for Cardinal 
 Manning's final judgment on theatres.
 
 XIII PUBLIC LIFE AND TEMITATIONS TO SECULARITY 275 
 
 force and Manning, and my brother-in-law Lyttelton, and 
 Copley Fielding and Thirlwall were members." ^ 
 
 In a letter to S. Y. Wood, undated, Manning said, 
 " Yesterday I was elected a member of the Sterling Club, 
 I suppose to give it a dash of theology." At the club he 
 made friends with Maurice and Sterling, with both of 
 whom he afterwards kept up a correspondence. With 
 Thirlwall and Arnold and others of that school whom 
 he met at the club Manning had no sympathy, for he was 
 not a speculative thinker, and was never troubled with 
 doubt, philosophic or religious. 
 
 In a letter to E. Chenevix Trench, dated 15 th June 
 1839, S. Wilberforce says : — " At the Sterling Club we had 
 Sterling, Lord Adare, Lyttelton, Blakesley, Colvil, Spedding, 
 PoUock, etc. I thought there was a certain hrusquerie 
 about Sterling's manner which took off the pleasure of a 
 first meeting. But many things spoke of substantial kind- 
 ness. I hope he has misconveyed himself to H. E. Manning, 
 for Manning identifies him in some very painful points 
 with the Eationalism of Germany." - 
 
 Manning, however, was not misled in his judgment, for 
 in conversations at Rome in 1838, as well as in the follow- 
 ing letter to Manning, Sterling made an open profession 
 of scepticism : — 
 
 Clifton, 2nd January 1840. 
 
 My dear Manning — I was extremely glad to hear from you, 
 and of course much the more from the great kindness of your 
 letter. . . I am very glad that you have been able to recur with 
 interest to any of our conversations at Rome. There was much 
 in my share of them which I do not think of without some self- 
 blame. But on the whole, I maintained what I have been led 
 earnestly to hold as truth, and tried to assert honestly what 
 bad been honestly come by. I see clearly the necessity in many, 
 and in some most valuable minds, for a scheme of belief and 
 practice more compact and sharp, and above all more positively 
 enacted and patented than any that I can assent to. And as 
 truth cannot be incoherent, such schemes appear to me not 
 
 ^ Among the original members of the Sterling Club was Charles Butler, 
 the well-known Catholic writer of that day. 
 
 ^ Life of Bishop Wilberforce, 1st ed. vol. i. p. 154.
 
 276 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 denials of the principles which command and fill my reason and 
 feelings, ])ut accommodations thereof to the use of those whose 
 kind of culti^'ation and whose practical pursuits are different 
 from those allotted to me. Slight and vague as this statement 
 is, you must excuse it as being the nearest approval to a thought 
 that I have ventured to put on paper for the last two months. 
 I have lately been foolish enough — I really now regard it as a 
 folly — to print a small volume of poems. 
 
 I shall have gi-eat pleasure in calling on your friend at 
 Madeira, and doing my best to derive enjoyment and profit from 
 his society. You know, however, the chance that most persons 
 of the class you assign him to, may, unless peculiarly indulgent, 
 recoil from me as one of the profane. I seldom fail to remember 
 how excusable all such judgments of me are, and I hope I shall 
 avoid giving any more occasion for them than is absolutely 
 inevitable. — At all events pray believe me, very cordially yours, 
 
 John Sterling. 
 
 On Sterling's death in 1844, Archdeacon Hare wrote a 
 Memoir of his former curate at Hurstmonceaux. On its 
 publication the Record made a fierce and furious attack on 
 the Sterling Club, which it declared was founded to com- 
 memorate the Eationalistic unbelief of John Sterling. The 
 members of the club were denounced as sharing the irreli- 
 gious principles of the man in whose honour it was founded. 
 Archdeacon Manning was singled out by name. 
 
 In speaking of the origin of the club and its name, Mr. 
 Gladstone said : — 
 
 It was called the Sterling Club, not in honour of John 
 Sterling, but because he was its first and most prominent 
 member, and because we were all supposed in some way or 
 other to be sterling men. The attacks and insinuations of the 
 Record, however, eventually killed the club. Manning was the 
 first who thought it prudent to withdraw his name, then Wilber- 
 force and others. We endeavoured to keep it together. It was 
 removed to another locality, where it lingered on for a few years. 
 
 In those days to be suspected of " Germanising views " — 
 which ^ Hugh James Eose was the first to denounce in England 
 
 ' Dr. Pusey defended German theology against Mr. Rose ; but later on 
 recanted his views and, as far as he could, supjjressed his own books. To the 
 last he felt anxious as to "their untoward inlluence." "In his will, dated 
 19th November 1875, he desires the two books on The Theology of Oermany 
 should not be republished " (Canon Liddou's Life of Dr. Pusey, vol. i. p. 176).
 
 XIII PUBLIC LIFE AND TEMPTATIONS TO SECULARITY 277 
 
 as essentially rationalistic and leading to unbelief — was almost 
 fatal to a man's reputation, and not in the religious world 
 only. To belong to a club, in which " Germanising views " 
 were supposed to be entertained, was a mark against a man 
 somewhat akin to that in the social world of that day — if 
 I may be pardoned the comparison — of being seen smoking 
 a cigar in the morning. 
 
 After one of his frequent excursions in those days into 
 what he himseK calls " the bewildering life of London," 
 Archdeacon Manning, suffering perhaps from reaction in 
 the silence and solitude of Lavington, put himself through 
 a severe course of self-examination, especially in regard to 
 the motives of his actions ; and for lack of a confessor — for 
 he had not as yet chosen one for himself — confesses his 
 temptations, his weaknesses, and his ambitions in the pages 
 of his private Diary. His confessions show a very 
 sensitive and scrupulous conscience and a God-fearing spirit. 
 The self - examination in some instances is so prolonged 
 and minute as to be almost morbid. A judicious spiritual 
 director would have saved Archdeacon Manning from much 
 self-torture springing out of a, perhaps, too constant and 
 morbid introspection. 
 
 At this time the question of ecclesiastical preferment 
 seems to have seriously disturbed his mind. In order to 
 show — under his own seal, as it were — what was passing 
 through Archdeacon Manning's mind, exciting his heart or 
 troubling his conscience, I cannot do better than recite the 
 following passages from his Diary. 
 
 Almost the first entry — I mean the first of the entries 
 left standing, for pages after pages have been cut out — is 
 as follows : — 
 
 1 3th December 18^5. — I feel wonderfully lone. God knows 
 I long to be satisfied with His presence. 
 
 Then follow these reflections and self-accusations : — 
 
 I am pierced by anxious thoughts. God knows what my 
 desires have been and are, and why they are crossed. How did 
 I strive to find His will to be as my will, and to make a way of
 
 278 
 
 CARDINAL MANNING 
 
 escape from His hand upon me. But a fear has held me, so 
 that I dare not jro on. 
 
 I am flattering myself with a fancy about depth and reality. 
 
 Then follows what almost seems like a life-and-death 
 struggle between ambition and seK-denial : — 
 
 4:th December 1845. — This evening I found the Archbishop of 
 York's letter offering me the office of Sub-almoner. 
 
 8th December. — As to this appointment the arguments are — 
 
 Fm: 
 1. That it comes imsought. 
 
 2. That it is honourable. 
 
 3. That it is an opening to 
 usefulness. 
 
 4. That it may lead to more. 
 
 5. That it has emolument. 
 
 6. That 
 friends. 
 
 7. That 
 archbishop. 
 
 I owe it to my 
 it is due to the 
 
 Against. 
 
 1. Not therefore to be ac- 
 cepted. Such things are trials 
 as well as leadings. 
 
 2. Being what I am, ought 
 I not therefore to decline it — 
 
 (1) As humiliation. 
 
 (2) As revenge on myself 
 for Lincoln's Inn. 
 
 (3) As a testimony 1 
 
 3. All I have is pre- 
 engaged. 
 
 4. Therefore, at least for 
 that reason, not to be ac- 
 cepted. It is a sphere of 
 temptation to which I am akin, 
 and have been. 
 
 5. But this is dearly bought 
 with five sacred days, and 
 anything ethically wrong. 
 
 6. Supposing the reasons 
 good. 
 
 7. The same. 
 
 Now the negative reasons are — 
 
 1. That I ought not for my own, and for my flock's sake, to 
 be absent on the feasts, especially Passion Week and Easter. 
 
 2. That I ought to keep out of temptations. 
 
 3. That I owe to myself, and to my Master, at least one 
 denial, and I have never denied myself. 
 
 4. That Lincoln's Inn affair makes such a withdrawal right, 
 especially in one who is perhaps too aspiring.
 
 XIII PUBLIC LIFE AND TEMPTATIOXS TO SECULARITY 279 
 
 5. That it will be somewhat out of tone with my words 
 and line, or might be thought so. 
 
 6. That a willingness to be preferred would perhaps affect 
 unfavourably some who are drawn to me because I am as I am. 
 My work, if anywhere, is in eremo. 
 
 7. That anything which complicated my thoughts and posi- 
 tion may aifect the indifference with which I wish to resolve my 
 mind on the great issue. Visions of a future certainly Avould. 
 
 8. That to keep aloof brings a man more simply and nearly 
 to the Head of the Church — to be disposed of directly. 
 
 9. That to leave my altar at the feasts is a bad public 
 example to the archdeaconry. 
 
 10. That the contracting two new relations — (1) to the office, 
 and (2) to the archbishop — might make me less free to act and 
 speak. 
 
 After a week's anxious deliberation and careful balancing 
 the pros and cons about the office of Sub-almoner, Manning 
 resolves to refuse the Archbishop of York's offer. 
 
 I have made up my mind, and will put down my reasons 
 to-night, and, please God, write to-morrow to decline the offer. 
 
 1 . I ought not to be away from my altar at the feasts, especi- 
 ally the Easter communion — 
 
 For the sakes — (1) Of my flock, 
 
 (2) Of my brethren. 
 
 (3) Of my own. 
 
 2. I am afraid of venturing out of the Church into the Court. 
 It is a /tera/Jacris et's aAAoyevets. The first point in the line, 
 and therefore involves the whole principle. If I am to go, 
 then I shall be called again, not less surely for having now 
 refused. 
 
 My course has been afar off, and I have seen a stronger 
 man than I damaged. " Wine is a mocker, strong drink is 
 raging." 
 
 3. I owe myself a revenge for Lincoln's Inn, and a greater 
 denial than this. 
 
 4. I ha,ye prayed against " pride, vanity, envy, jealousy, rivalry, 
 and ambition," but have done nothing to attain humility. 
 
 5. I would fain simply deny myself as an offering to Him 
 who pleased not Himself, and perhaps in a distinction and an 
 honour having worldly estimation, such a denial is better for me 
 than in money and the like. 
 
 6. I would fain cross my inclinations.
 
 280 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 Now in all this Satan tells me I am doing it to be thought 
 mortified and holy ; or out of pride, as wishing to slight what 
 others value and assume I should gladly accept. 
 
 After this minute self-dissection, this careful and pro- 
 longed balancing of arguments and counter-arguments, and 
 after a final decision arrived at out of the deepest religious 
 motives, it would seem all but impossible for Archdeacon 
 Manning to go back upon himself He had fought the 
 good fight ; he had won the crown. And yet, on returning 
 to his friends in London, he was once more, as he calls it, 
 " caught up in the whirl of the actual," and accounted him- 
 self a fool for having lost a great opportunity in declining 
 the Sub-almonership, not for its own sake, but for what it 
 might lead to. 
 
 Returning from the wilderness of hopes and ambitions, 
 of worldly motives and associations vi'hich beset his heart 
 or entangled his feet in London, Manning has again recourse 
 to his Diary, that most patient of confessors : — 
 
 I am ashamed of myself for having allowed the return of so 
 many doubts and disappointed feelings. I have, since I left home, 
 been deprived of my supports ; have not found others confirm 
 my view. The associations of the world came about me, and 
 made me feel that I had played the fool and lost a great oppor- 
 tunity, &c. I cannot deny that in the region of the world, even 
 of the fair, not irreligious, view of self-advancement, also of 
 command and precepts, I have made a mistake. 
 
 But in the region of counsels, self-chastisement, humiliation, 
 self-discipline, penance, and of the Cross, I think I have done 
 right. 
 
 Yet great humility alone can keep me from being robbed 
 of all this. 
 
 To learn to say no, to disappoint myself, to choose the 
 harder side, to deny my inclinations, to prefer to be less thought 
 of, and to have fewer gifts of the Avorld, this is no mistake, and 
 is most like the Cross. Only with humility. God grant it to 
 me. 
 
 Feast of St. Paul. 
 
 On this subject, which appears to have weighed very 
 heavily on his soul, Archdeacon Manning wrote two letters, 
 one addressed to his mother, telling her, as a consolation for
 
 XIII PUBLIC LIFE AND TEMPTATIONS TO SECULARITY 281 
 
 the step he had taken, that duty forbade his leaving his 
 own altar during holy seasons ; the other to Robert 
 Wilberforce, in which, under the seal of confession, he 
 assigned " fear of secularity " as the real reason for his 
 refusing the office of Sub-almoner. 
 
 After a time, not being able to rid his heart of disap- 
 pointment and vexation at having refused a preferment 
 wliich would have made him look greater in the eyes of 
 others. Manning, in restlessness or remorse or both, returns 
 to his meditations and confessions : — 
 
 Therefore, mistake or no, it is a good thing I have mortified 
 my vanity. It is good I am susceptible of vexation, and regret 
 that I should feel it ; without trying to bolster myself up by 
 expectations or complacency with myself. I have been both 
 ambitious and designing, and it is good for me to be disap- 
 pointed by the act of others as in Lincoln's Inn, and by my 
 own as now. 
 
 It is hard to know exactly what is the or the chief motive 
 on which we act. I believe I did refuse it on the reasons I 
 ■wrote down. Yet something tells me I should not have refused 
 it if I had not been alone. Yet I ought, if that reason be 
 good now. 
 
 Could I be content to live and die no more than I am ? I 
 doubt it. And yet in some ways I feel more so now than in 
 time past. But that is because I am complacent over my books. 
 
 30^^ January. 
 
 His Diary shows how Archdeacon Manning's heart was 
 stirred to its depths at the thought that, in refusing the 
 office of Sub-almoner to the Queen,^ he had lost or delayed his 
 chance of elevation to the Bench of Bishops, for a fortnight 
 later there is the following entry : — 
 
 The highest obligation I have is to my flock, and the highest 
 season of it is Easter. 
 
 The bishops of the Church must give a fearful account in the 
 Day of Judgment. It is only our unbelief, vanity, TrAeove^ia 
 that makes us fear that office so little. 
 
 Here a page in the Diary is removed. Then it pro- 
 ceeds : — 
 
 ^ The Queen's Almoner, the Archbishop of York, was too old to discharge 
 the office ; its duties fell to the Sub-almoner. The vacancy was caused by 
 the bestowal of a mitre on S. Wilberforce.
 
 282 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 . . , Have been really resting on other props, stays, and com- 
 forts, either present or to come. The great question is : Is God 
 enough for you now ? And if you are as now, even to the end of 
 life, will it suffice you ? I do hope I am feeling my way to more 
 perfect deadness. No doubt this is one thing God is teaching 
 me by this event. 
 
 It is difficult exactly to say what I am resting upon. I 
 think it is partly the esteem of others, chiefly founded on what 
 I have written ; and on expectation of something to come. 
 
 Suppose I were left here alone, or with an uncomfortable 
 neighbour ; that my books were to leave off" selling, and I were 
 publicly attacked ; that the prospect of elevation were at an end, 
 and that nothing were left me but to stay myself on God in 
 prayer and parish work — should I feel as I do now ? If God 
 were really my stay now, I should. But I think I should not 
 do so, and therefore I doubt whether He is so. 
 
 It is very hard to try this question when things prosper 
 round us. 
 
 Certainly I would rather choose to be stayed on God, than 
 to be in the thrones of the world and the Church. 
 
 Nothing else will go into eternity. 
 
 15th (February 1846). 
 
 The self-revelations contained in his Diary bear witness 
 in the most striking manner to the supernatural side of 
 Manning's character. His vivid faith, his trust in God, 
 obedience to the Divine Will, are made manifest in the 
 struggles which he endured; the temptations which he 
 suffered ; and in the victory which he obtained over 
 self. Much as he may have loved " the thrones of the 
 world and the Church," it is clear that his deliberate will 
 and desire was " to be stayed on God." 
 
 The next entry in his Diary has almost a pathetic touch 
 about it : — 
 
 Yesterday morning I had a letter from Burns for a 5th edition 
 of my first volume. This will carry me through 1846, please 
 God ; and I now feel at rest. It was great want of faith to be 
 so disturbed. 
 
 I feel to be in His hands, and He will provide for me, as in 
 this, so in everything. 
 
 Returning from one of his periodical visits to London, 
 Manning made the following entry in his Diary : —
 
 xiii PUliLIC LIFE AND TEMPTATIONS TO SECULARITY 283 
 
 I came home from London last night after three weeks very 
 ill spent. 
 
 My life there was irregular, indiscreet, and self-indulgent. 
 [Two lines are here expunged.] Somehow I had thought before 
 I went to London that the prospects of elevation would have 
 drawn me under their power. 
 
 But I came home more estranged from the thought of being 
 raised to any higher place than I went.^ 
 
 This is the first year I have found this to be so. Usually 
 I have been powerfully drawn into the whirl of the actual. 
 
 Lavingion, 5th July 1846. 
 
 Thus ended, at any rate for a time, this protracted 
 struggle, occasioned by the offer of the Sub-almonership — 
 between, on the one side, ambition, vanity, desire for elevation, 
 expectation of something to come, as he calls it, and, on the 
 other, self-denial, self-mortification, humility, and trust in 
 God. This passage in Manning's Diary is as edifying as it 
 is interesting, for it lays bare, as in the sight of God, a human 
 heart struggling with its temptations ; the courageous 
 wrestlings of a strong man with his own nature ; a life-and- 
 death struggle between the natural and the supernatural. 
 
 Such wrestlings with nature do not end in a day, but 
 endure for a lifetime.^ 
 
 ^ And in the heat of the struggle, echoing iu his heart came the noble 
 aspiration, recorded in his Diary,— " Certainly I would rather choose to be 
 stayed on God, than to be in the thrones of the world and the Church." 
 
 ^ In the text I have followed the contemporary testimony given by Arch- 
 deacon Manning in his Diary as to the motives which influenced his mind 
 and conduct on his appointment as Archdeacon of Chichester. But Manning, 
 as cardinal in 1882, put on record in the following autobiographical 
 Notes an account or explanation of his aims and motives which, far from 
 acknowledging that he was as archdeacon " ambitious and designing and de- 
 sirous of elevation," points the other way: — "This appointment was, I 
 believe, the first revival of any thought of an ecclesiastical future, which was 
 talked of, and written about, and bragged about me perpetually ; and my 
 known intimacy with all the younger men of my own standing, then entered 
 into public life, made people prophesy and take for granted that I was think- 
 ing what they thought, and aiming at what they looked for. So far as I 
 knew and can recall, I never put myself in the way of it. ... I used to be 
 sent for to public meetings and to preach in London. But as far as I can re- 
 call, I never did an act to seek for ecclesiastical advancement." In another 
 Note the cardinal said : — " In 1840 I became Archdeacon of Chichester, 
 This at once brought me into the world iu Sussex and in London. I preached 
 often in London, and took part in the chief public meetings. ... I then
 
 284 CARDINAL MANNING chap, xiii 
 
 went to levees aud drawiug-rooms, and dined out, and went to the House of 
 Commons." . . . Again : — "I stood upon the threshold of the world, into 
 which Samuel Wilberforce was plunged to his last hour, and every one about 
 rae bade me go onward. What kept me back ? God alone. The conviction 
 that I should lose singleness of eye in the atmosphere of the world — this kept 
 me back. But was not this a light of the Holy Ghost ? that is, of God himself ? 
 . . . And yet there was a time, from 1S40 to 1849, when I might have been 
 plunged into it." The difiference between the earlier and later statements 
 seems to be this : that Archdeacon Maiming in his humility and remorse con- 
 fesses to have been led astray for a time, from 18-11 to 1846, by ambitious 
 and secular desires ; whereas Cardinal Manning explains that he might have 
 been plunged into secularity, but was not, because the Holy Ghost enabled 
 him to resist the temptation.
 
 CHAPTEE XIV 
 
 A HOLIDAY WAKD'S DEGRADATION THE MAYNOOTH GRANT 
 
 1844-1846 
 
 In the autumn of 1844 Archdeacon Manning enjoyed a 
 well-earned holiday, seeking refreshment and recreation in 
 a tour through Normandy, and a visit to Paris. In striking 
 contrast to his visit to Catholic countries later on, in 
 1847-48, in this visit to Normandy Manning looked on 
 the outside only of things Catholic. He describes the 
 beauty of the churches, or their antiquity, or the style of 
 the building, or notes their defects, as in St. Jaques, Dieppe, 
 " The paltry deal pewing, some locked," or points out re- 
 semblances to English cathedrals ; for instance, " The north- 
 east corner of north transept window in Eouen Cathedral 
 like Salisbury " ; or records historical facts, " Eichard Coeur 
 de Lion's heart is in this Norman church," in that " William 
 the Conqueror's grave " ; ^ or describes how this church was 
 mutilated by the French Eevolution, and that desecrated 
 and secularised. Unlike the Manning of 1848, the Arch- 
 deacon of Chichester in 1844 did not look beneath the 
 surface ; did not inquire of monks and priests the meaning 
 of things he looked at; did not, as afterwards in 1848, 
 kneel in worship before the Blessed Sacrament or at Mass. 
 Once only is to be found an entry so familiar in his Diary 
 of 1848, " Salut at St. Ouen, Eouen, Oct. 18"; and one 
 allusion to worship, " At night, 8 o'clock, went into St. Ouen. 
 Moon through east window ; a few lights in the church ; 
 
 ^ " Abbaye aux hommcs. William the Conqueror's grave. Lanfranc first 
 abbot." — Archdeacon Manning's Contemporary Journal.
 
 286 CARDINAL MANNING cuap. 
 
 people at private prayers. Kouen, Sept. 27." Unlike, too, 
 the Manning of 1848, in religious or ecclesiastical discus- 
 sions in hotels, clubs, or on board the boat. Manning in 
 1844 took not the Catholic, but the Protestant side of the 
 argument. In going up the Seine by steam from Havre 
 to Paris, Manning, in his Journal, gives the following 
 account : — 
 
 On board the boat I met a priest of Sens. He argued for 
 liberty of conscience ; persuasion the only argument, force the 
 worst; defended the French persecution of Protestants on the 
 ground that the Government touched nobody for religion, but 
 for politics in self-defence — i.e. our defence of Queen Elizabeth 
 and Catholics. 
 
 I said, " The Protestants armed in self-defence ; all they asked 
 was passive liberty." 
 
 A Frenchman standing by said, " They wanted a reform, 
 not a revolution." The conversation drew a crowd, and I 
 drew off. 
 
 Another Frenchman told me that the priests in France were 
 respected so long as they kept to their functions, but that when 
 they went beyond them, they were immediately opposed ; that 
 continually the mind of the country is withdrawing further 
 from them. 
 
 From Dieppe Manning wrote the following letter to his 
 mother : — 
 
 Dieppe, 2Gth September 1844. 
 
 My dearest Mother — I begin a letter to you from this 
 place, and shall probably take it with me to Rouen. 
 
 When I got to the pier yesterday I found that the boats 
 only go to Dieppe, so I sent back a card by my porter, which I 
 hope came safely. I found Lord Cantilupe and two other 
 people I know among the passengers. We had a very good 
 passage, and got in by a quarter past eight. The entrance to 
 Dieppe in a bright moonlight was very beautiful. The outline 
 of the town was very irregular and unlike ours. I am comfort- 
 ably housed in a clean hotel near the landing. To-day, after 
 going about the town, I walked off into the country to St. 
 Martin's Eglise, a village about 3 or 4 miles off, and then 
 across to D'Arques, by which I have seen more of the common 
 state of people than before. The churches are ill kept, and 
 seem very poor ; they are miserably ventilated, and patched up 
 witli all manner of materials. There is hardly any enormity
 
 XIV A HOLIDAY 287 
 
 Ave have committed that they have not greatly exceeded ; which 
 is cold comfort after all. The priest's house at St. Martin's 
 Eglise was literally a poor man's cottage, and no good one. 
 The churchyard was full of apple trees in fruit. 
 
 I shall go to meet the steamboat this evening, hoping to find 
 Henry Wilberforce. To-morrow I have taken my place at eight 
 in the morning for Rouen. 
 
 Rouen, 27th September. 
 
 Henry came safely over last night, and we have just arrived 
 here at about one o'clock, after a pleasant drive. I waited 
 yesterday evening at the quai till I thought everybody out of 
 the packet ; but Henry was still on board, and I very nearly 
 went away. We shall stay here certainly until to-morrow 
 evening, and then perhaps go to Paris, that is if we have seen 
 what we wish, if not, we shall stay till Monday, and then go to 
 Caen. Direct to the Poste-restante, Rouen. God bless you, my 
 dearest mother, you are just now going to the railroad. I hope 
 you will have a comfortable joiu-ney. I wish I could have taken 
 you. As soon as I can I hope to come to Reigate, and see you 
 comfortably settled in yoiu* new home, which I think of with 
 constant pleasure. — Your most aflFectionate son, 
 
 H. E. Manning. 
 
 At Paris, Manning met Bishop Luscombe, and dined 
 with him and Archdeacon Keating. In visiting the 
 churches Manning confines his remarks to architectural or 
 historical points. There is no allusion to Catholic worship, 
 or to his taking part in it. During this tour he was for a 
 time accompanied by "W. Dodsworth, and also by George 
 Ryder and his wife, one of Manning's sisters-in-law. 
 
 Earlier in the same autumn Manning went to Wales to 
 attend the laying of the first stone of a church at Pantassa, 
 dedicated to St. David. The late Lord Denbigh, then Lord 
 Peilding, and his first wife were friends of the Archdeacon 
 of Chichester, who was their confessor and spiritual director. 
 The church was to be built by Lord and Lady Feilding as 
 a joint thanks-offering. In his Journal Manning says : — 
 
 6th Aug. — Left Lavington. 8th Aug., went with Dodsworth 
 to Downing, then to Pantassa for the laying of the first stone 
 of St. David's Chiu-ch ; met at the Schools about 60 clergy, 
 Bishop and Dean of St. Asaph's ; long procession — banners, 
 cross, stars, fleur-de-lis green and blue, vestments crimson, cross
 
 288 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 gold — leading up a green lane into a field with broken ground, 
 and a high hill looking down upon it; the clergy went first, 
 with choir chaunting the Te Deum in Welsh. Lord and Lady 
 Feilding laid tlie stone, Lord Feilding read the copy of the 
 inscription. The bishop said a few words, then Mr. Pugh and 
 Mr. Owen in Welsh. Very strange and striking to hear a 
 priest in the open air, and in a surplice, speaking in an 
 unknown tongue. 
 
 The influence of Tractarianism had made itself felt in 
 1844, as we see, even in Wales, and emboldened the High 
 Church party to form processions in the open air, unfold 
 its banners, and, wisely making use of the Welsh tongue, 
 seek to captivate the people, enamoured alike of music and 
 their own language, by preaching and chanting their 
 Church hymns in Welsh. 
 
 1\\ the following passage of his Journal, Manning likens 
 the passing away of a thunderstorm and of natural dark- 
 ness at the moment of laying the first stone of St. David's 
 Church, to the lifting up of the moral darkness of a people 
 enshrouded by religious error at the rising of the sun of 
 Anglicanism, pure and undefiled : — 
 
 A thunderstorm came on, gathered and formed in a way and 
 advanced, black and close ; then lifted up, and the sun came 
 from beneath it ; then it wheeled about and went off, " lifted up 
 its hands and fled away." A strong gust blew over just as the 
 stone was laying. . . . All the afternoon crowds in the park. 
 Children, games, and balloons. 
 
 About six years after the laying the first stone, but 
 before the church was completed or dedicated to Protestant 
 worship. Lord and Lady Feilding became Catholics ; and, 
 troubled in conscience about devoting the church which 
 they had built on their own land to the services of the 
 Anglican Church, consulted Archdeacon Manning, as being 
 fully and intimately acquainted with the motives which 
 had induced them to build the church, as well as with all 
 the details of the case. His judgment was, that, as 
 owners of the building, they were bound in conscience 
 not to hand it over to the services of a Church in which
 
 XIV A HOLIDAY 289 
 
 they no longer believed and had formally renounced, but to 
 devote it to Catholic uses. 
 
 The rest of the month Manning, accompanied by Dods- 
 worth, devoted to travelling in Scotland. Of this journey 
 there is nothing noteworthy to record. The learned Arch- 
 deacon of Chichester knew little or nothing of, or at any 
 rate paid no heed to, the ancient glories of the Catholic 
 Church in Scotland — before the Keformation so conspicuous 
 for its apostolic fervour — beyond the architectural beauties 
 of churches and monasteries, too many of them mutilated 
 or laid in ruins by John Knox and his followers, or by the 
 mob instigated to fanaticism by itinerant preachers, or by 
 those sell-appointed ministers of religion — to be found in 
 England as well as in Scotland — whom Sydney Smith 
 wittily described as unconsecrated cobblers. 
 
 The poet, with his far-reaching vision, sees things 
 unseen of the duller eye of preacher, philosopher, or statesman. 
 Thus it came to pass that Walter Scott, by his deeper 
 insight into, and appreciation of, the ancient glories of the 
 Church, especially in Scotland, prepared the way for the 
 revival of Catholic truth and the ancient religion in Eng- 
 land. Newman, made susceptible by the fervour of his 
 imagination, caught the sacred flame from Scott,^ and passed 
 on the fiery cross, until the hearts of many in England 
 were touched and softened, and under Newman's inspira- 
 tion and leadership, turned once more in love and trust to 
 the faith of their forefathers. Manning lacking imagina- 
 tion that quickens insight into the real nature of things, 
 had to await the result of the slower processes of reason 
 and experimental experience before he, too, recognised the 
 truth and glory of the Church, 
 
 A note or two from Manning's Journal will suffice. On 
 10 th August he terminated his visit to Lord and Lady 
 Fielding, and accompanied by " Dodsworth, Mr. Wray, and 
 Hubbard," started for the north. 
 
 Left Carlisle ^ to 10. Scotch mist on the Border. The 
 
 ^ Of Newman it is recorded that iu Ids early boyhood he was in the habit 
 of hiding a volume of Walter Scott's uudt-r his pillow at night, and waking 
 up at daybreak eagerly devour it. 
 
 VOL. T U
 
 290 CARDINAL MAXNIXG chap. 
 
 rising up into the mountains fine, bleak ; Clyde and Falls, soft. 
 Then a beautiful wooded ravine spoilt by New Lanark. Glas- 
 gow 5.30, Bishop's, Fordan Hill, Partick. 12th, preached at 
 St. Mary, St. Luke xix. 41, 2 ; evening at Bpt.'s, L. xiii. The 
 old cathedral a fine 1st Pointed, cruciform, tower and spire at 
 intersection, clerestory ; double lancet over nave, single over 
 choir, aisle, transept. The cemetery on a hanging wooded 
 hill. John Knox's monument. 
 
 John Knox elicited no comment, good, bad, or indifferent, 
 from the High Church archdeacon. His remarks are 
 mostly confined to a description of the natural beauties of 
 Scotland, and the fine architecture of its ancient churches : — 
 
 Scotland is the land of lights, shadows, and colours. The 
 first ascent from Inverness to Loch Garry is nearly 70 miles. 
 The road at first cultivated, then wilder. Scotch firs and fruit 
 like their mountains, heather and granite. Wide river-beds, 
 then green morasses and streams winding away. Always three 
 or four horizons, mist-broken, and three or four shadows, lights, 
 and coloiu-s. Sunshine and storm, clear blue and cloud ; light 
 showers and black and lowering sky. Rainbows and prismatic 
 colours entangled in mist. 
 
 After visiting the Druid's Temple at Beauly, Arch- 
 deacon Manning 
 
 went to Forres . . . then turned off to the south-east into a 
 richly-cultivated country, and went up a hill ; from the brow 
 looked doAvn into a valley wooded on both sides, and a stream. 
 The convent of Pluscarden stands half-way against the north 
 hill, open to the sun all day, and sheltered from the north wind. 
 It stands in gardens and orchards, which show the culture of 
 old days, rich, green, fresh, luxuriant. They were evidently the 
 convent grounds and gardens. The situation of loneliness and 
 peace most consoling. 
 
 Here follows a pen-and-ink sketch of the church : — 
 
 The style Early English, and the Decorated supervening. 
 Wonderful varieties. South transept gable splayed down. The 
 choir north and south, an archway with emblem on it — two 
 angels holding a monstrance. Memento muri in moss on a stone. 
 A lovely, lonely, cloistered place. 
 
 On 28th August is the following entry: —
 
 XIV A HOLIDAY 291 
 
 Dodsworth and I parted — he to London, I to Edinburgh. 
 The irregularity like Naples against St. Elmo. 
 
 The view from Holyrood is thus described : — 
 
 When the night closed, the lights were sprinkled like fire- 
 flies coming into Florence. 29th. Walked up to Arthur's Seat ; 
 too cloudy for the view ; but the hill and rock very fine ; St. 
 Anthony's Chapel. . . . Then Durham ; cathedral massive and 
 towering. York Minster massive and beautiful. . . . 
 
 London, \st September, 9.5. 
 
 On his return to Lavington, Manning resumed his active 
 pastoral work among his scattered flock of shepherds and 
 agricultural labourers, who looked upon him with reverence 
 and love, not only as a pastor, but as a personal friend. 
 With the happy activity of his untiring pen, he has left 
 a record, which I found among his papers, of the dying 
 days of an old shepherd of Graffham, under the title, 
 " Shepherd's Talk." I will recite it here as a specimen 
 of the Eector of Lavington's pastoral work and minis- 
 trations : — 
 
 Shepherd's Talk. 
 
 In December 1844 Mrs. Long, wife of an old shepherd living 
 in Graffham, came to me and said that her husband had taken to 
 his bed, and that his deafness, always great, was so much worse 
 that they could hardly make him hear. I gave her a print of the 
 Good Shepherd, and said, " Give him this book from me." She 
 said, "He can't read.' I said " I knew that, but give it to him 
 from me." 
 
 I went that af teinoon and found the print on his bed. I took 
 it up, he reached out after it and said, "That's mine." I said, 
 "' Do you know what it is 1 " He said, " Yes, yes — the lost sheep 
 — that's me." I put my hand round my head to signify the 
 crown of thorns. He said, '' Yes, the crown of thorns," and turned 
 his head over on the pillow and sobbed. 
 
 Some days after he said to me, " I hope T shall just walk in " ; 
 that is, to the fold. Another day he took it up, and pointing to 
 the crown of thorns said, " That's what cuts me most of all," and 
 turned over and sobbed. 
 
 I went to him in the January following to administer the holy 
 sacrament. As I gave him the paten I saw something on his 
 neck or throat. At last I saw it was the print. After the Holy
 
 292 CARDINAL MANKING chaf. 
 
 Sacrament I asked his wife when he had asked for it. She said, 
 "As soon as it was light." I took it up and he said, " I haves it 
 most days." He then said, " I hope He will have me like that," 
 — the sheep on His shoulders — I said, " He has you like that. 
 ' Him that cometh imto me I will in no wise cast out.' He does 
 not wait for the lost sheep to come to Him. but He goes out to 
 seek till He finds it." He said, " No, no. He don't wait for he 
 to come to He, but He goes after he ; and I hope I shall not 
 give Him much trouble." Long had been a shepherd on the 
 South Downs all his life ; and had had trouble enough in seeking 
 the sheep that wandered and were lost. He then took up the 
 print and said, " I shall be glad to see that Man." 
 
 That night he died. 
 
 A year or two before this date, Manning had been very 
 much interested in a scheme of S. F. Wood's for the founda- 
 tion of a Home for Fallen Women, of whose sad lot he 
 gave a pathetic picture. Manning promised to preach a 
 sermon on the subject, and enlist the sympathy of the 
 charitable. Wood unhappily died before he carried out his 
 work.-^ In the year following his friend's death, 1844, 
 Manning delivered a sermon in which he described with 
 touching and tender pathos the early and innocent life, and 
 then the unholy revel and miserable deathbed, of fallen 
 women. The following passages from this sermon, preached 
 at St. George's-in-the-Fields in support of the Magdalen 
 Hospital, illustrate the persuasive power of Manning's 
 eloquence : — 
 
 God alone is witness of the groanings which are breathed 
 unknown, and the burning tears which are shed in the very 
 depths of impiirity. What harroAving recollections of faces 
 dearly loved, last seen in anguish, of the fresh years of early 
 childhood, and the hopes and joys and fair prospects of an 
 innocent and gentle life all scarred and blasted come back upon 
 
 ^ S. F. Wood's death is not recorded or evon alluded to by Archdeacon 
 Manning ; but, in a letter to Dr. Pusey, dated Littlemore, 22nd April 1844, 
 on the death of his daughter Lucy, Newman said, — "The 22nd of April 
 is a day of special memories for me. That day, last year, was the date of 
 dear Wood's departure ; and the year before, of our coming here." There is a 
 letter of S. F. Wood's to Manning, written in pencil just before his death, in 
 which he said, — " My doctor holds out no hope. I have no organic disease 
 but am slowly wasting away, as was the case with one you know of." The 
 allusion is to the death of Manning's wife.
 
 XIV WARD'S DEGRADATION 293 
 
 them ill the hours of unholy revel, to be their mockery and 
 torment. No eye but His can read the visions of home and 
 happy days Avhich rise upon their desolate hearts in the tumult 
 and darkness of these crowded streets, and the agonising dreams 
 of a blessedness no longer theirs, by which their broken sleep is 
 haunted. None other but He can know what unutterable 
 agony goes up by day and by night from the loathsome chambers 
 and the pestilential dens in which these homeless, hopeless, 
 decaying mortals hide themselves in misery to die. And what 
 a death is the death of a harlot. When the baffled heart 
 wanders in dreams of sickness to die in the home of its birth, 
 and wakes up from the happiness of delirium to madden itself 
 again in the sights and sounds which harass its miserable 
 deathbed ; when the eye strains itself in vain for the vision of a 
 mother's pitying face, and the ear is sick with listening for the 
 coming of brother, husband, child, whose footfall shall never be 
 heard again. Then comes death, and after death the judgment 
 and the Great White Throne on which He sitteth, from Whose 
 face both heaven and earth shall flee away. Lamb of God that 
 takest away the sin of the world, have mercy upon them and 
 upon us in that day ! 
 
 In those combative days, however, of religious con- 
 troversy, Manning was not long allowed to live in peace. 
 He was once more called upon to take sides — to vote for or 
 against Ward's degradation at Oxford. There were three 
 courses open to the Archdeacon of Chichester : he might 
 vote against Ward with the Evangelicals, or for him with 
 the High Church party and the Tractarians, or remain 
 neutral, as he did at the election for the professorship of 
 poetry. 
 
 I need not enter into the details of this stirring conflict 
 and controversy between Ward and the Oxford authorities, 
 as the whole case has been stated with singular ability 
 by Mr. Wilfrid Ward in the Life of his distinguished 
 father. Suffice it to say that Ward's book, Ideal of a Christian 
 Church, from the moment of its publication, excited the 
 fiercest controversy. It was assailed by the Low Church 
 party with bitterness and abuse. Many High Churchmen, 
 like Mr. Gladstone and Dean Hook, looked at it with sus- 
 picion or fear. Many more, like Manning, condemned the 
 audacity of its arguments or shrank with apprehension
 
 294 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 from its far-reaching but logical conclusions. The work, if 
 paradoxical in places and purposely made more startling 
 than the argument required, was a bold, powerful, and 
 closely -reasoned statement against the Anglican system 
 both in theory and practice. The crux of Ward's offence 
 was his treatment of the Thirty-nine Articles. Newman 
 had declared in Tract 90 that the Articles were susceptible 
 of a Catholic interpretation. Ward went further, and put 
 upon them a " non-natural " interpretation. To this view 
 Newman objected strongly. 
 
 The sensation caused by Ward's book reached its climax 
 when the authorities of Oxford brought forward proposals 
 for his degradation. 
 
 The judicious and venerable Archdeacon of Chichester 
 naturally had no sympathy with Ward or his book. Ward 
 was a lover of warfare, but he was as open and candid as 
 the day, and honest to his finger-tips ; bold, extravagant, 
 impetuous, fond of pushing things to extremes. Manning, 
 on the other hand, was a lover of peace, cautious in thought 
 and deliberate in action, in manner reserved, mild of 
 speech, and averse to speaking his whole mind. He looked 
 upon the propositions in Ward's book not only as risky 
 in the extreme and provoking beyond measure by their 
 audacity, but as untenable. 
 
 The pubhcation of such a book, at such a moment, 
 seemed to the Archdeacon of Chichester the work of a fire- 
 brand, flinging a lighted torch among the most combustible 
 of materials. No wonder that Manning at the time 
 regarded Ward and his work as alike rude and uncouth. 
 Ward, on his part, held in supreme contempt — I do not 
 say Manning, for I do not know whether Ward had any 
 acquaintance with him or his writings, or line of action ^ — 
 but men of the moderate and judicious type Manning 
 represented.' 
 
 The Ideal Church was published in the summer of 1844, 
 
 ^ Cardinal Manning in his Journal, dated 25th August 1889, says, "Ward 
 I never saw till the time of his degradation." 
 
 2 "When I hear men called judicious I suspect them, but when they are 
 called judicious and venerable they are scoundrels." — Ward.
 
 XIV WARD'S DEGRADATION 295 
 
 and Mr. Gladstone, at once taking alarm, consulted with 
 Manning, who was much shocked at the tone, style, and 
 method of Ward's book, as to the policy of its immediate 
 repudiation, before mischief was done and the University 
 authorities aroused. 
 
 In a letter dated 14th November 1844, Mr. Gladstone 
 wrote to Manning as follows : — 
 
 I have been writing an article on Ward's book, avoiding 
 almost entirely his theology, but severely censuring his rash 
 methods of decision and censure without examination. I intend 
 to offer it to the Quarterly, but I should be very desirous to 
 have your judgment on it. 
 
 Again, in another letter, dated Sunday, 17 th November 
 1844, is the following passage : — 
 
 I have done my article on Ward, it is to go to Lockhart, but 
 I cannot form an idea whether he will be afraid of it. Nothing 
 but the publication of such a book would have put me in case to 
 offer an article on such a subject to the Quarterly, I was anxious 
 you should see it. 
 
 In another letter to Manning, dated 23rd November 
 1844, Mr. Gladstone writes: — 
 
 You should not fail to read Oakeley's remarkable letter in 
 the English Churchman, he calls Ward's a wonderful book, but I 
 confess I think it partly wonderful in a different sense for its 
 temerity and harsh judgments upon insufficient grounds. The 
 7/^09 of it is, to me, very, very far below that of Oakeley or of 
 Newman. 
 
 Lockhart inserts my article ; but has certain amendments to 
 suggest, I look much for your aid about it. I have done it, God 
 knows, conscientiously. And I think Mr. Ward deserves to be 
 well whipped for his mode of going to work : my object is, while 
 handling that sharply, to deal quietly with his opinions, and to 
 say nothing that can estrange his friends. 
 
 I wonder what the Oxford wiseacres will do with him. 
 After the affair of Pusey's Sermon one cannot but tremble ; but 
 may God avert this mischief. 
 
 Manning, after reading it, expressed his full concurrence 
 with Mr. Gladstone's article on Ward, which, after much
 
 •296 CARDIXAL MANXIXG chap. 
 
 pruning and cutting down by Lockhart, the editor of the 
 Quarterly, finally appeared.^ Mr. Gladstone, acting on 
 Manning's advice, submitted to all degrees of mutilation, 
 rather than forgo the opportunity of attacking Ward's 
 book in the Quarterly. Both he and Manning appear from 
 the correspondence to have much undervalued Ward's in- 
 tellectual power, and were surprised to learn that, as 
 Mr. Gladstone informed Manning, " Lockhart is much 
 struck with the talent of Ward's book." 
 
 But of infinitely more vital importance than Mr. Glad- 
 stone's somewhat crude criticisms of Ward in the Quarterly 
 Revicio was the action taken by the Hebdomadal Board at 
 Oxford, on whose " new and formidable freaks " Manning, in 
 a letter to Mr. Gladstone, passed a severe censure while 
 expressing at the same time his fear of the result of the new 
 test in regard to the subscription of the Articles which the 
 University authorities proposed to introduce. To this 
 letter of Manning's Mr. Gladstone replied in a letter dated 
 Hawarden, Christmas Eve, 1844: — 
 
 You have anticipated me, and I have no more to do than to 
 subscribe my ditto to what you have written. "NMiat spirit of 
 dementation possesses these our guides and governors in the 
 University 1 At the same time I cannot help thinking that it 
 was the palpable error committed in the case of the Vice- 
 Chancellorship on the other side which has emboldened them to 
 the present pitch. 
 
 The case alluded to was the attempt on the part of 
 the Tractarians to prevent the installation of the Warden 
 of Wadham, one of the six doctors who condemned 
 Dr. Pusey. In a letter to Mr. Gladstone, Manning 
 described this act of the Tractarians as " a mad move." 
 In another letter, dated 28th December 1844, he ex- 
 pressed the opinion that the Thirty -nine Articles were 
 
 ^ At one moment the article was on the verge of suffering shipwreck : — 
 "Here," enclosing the note to Manning, writes Mr. Gladstone in a letter, 
 dated Whitehall, 3rd December 1844, "is a curious note from Lockhart 
 throwing me over." But on Manning's advice a compromise was effected. 
 Two days later Mr. Gladstone wrote, "The basis of our concordat is that 
 my argument is to be confined to the case of simple communion, and that I 
 am to let alone the questions connected with the special obligations of 
 subscription."
 
 XIV WAKD'S DEGRADATION 297 
 
 drawn up with the intention of striking the Church of 
 Kome and fastening upon her the charge of error as regards 
 some of her current ideas and practices — blasphemy and 
 impiety ; but with a great tenderness for these germs of 
 ideas out of the corrupt following of which her present 
 practices have sprung. Speaking of the " original " sub- 
 scribers to the Thirty -nine Articles, Manning described 
 them as " Succumbers." In reply Mr. Gladstone said — 
 
 1 agi'ee with you eminently in your doctrine of filtration. . . . 
 I am not sure, however, of your whole assertion that subscribers 
 were mere succumbers. It sometimes occurs to me, though the 
 question may seem a strange one. How far was the Reformation, 
 but especially the Continental Reformation, designed by God, in 
 the region of final causes, for that pvu'ification of the Roman 
 Church which it has actually realised 1 The English Reforma- 
 tion we yet hope has a higher kind of purification to accomplish 
 in the rest of the Church. — Ever affectionately yours, 
 
 W. E. Gladstone. 
 
 The Heads of Houses, with what Mr. Gladstone described 
 as their " perverse maladroitness," pushed matters to ex- 
 tremes. A vote of censure on Ward, entailing his degrada- 
 tion, was proposed. 
 
 Manning at first was inclined to adopt a neutral attitude, 
 and not to vote either for or against Ward's degradation, as 
 he had done in the contest between Williams and Garbett, 
 and in the matter of the address to Convocation proposing 
 the withdrawal of both candidates. But Mr. Gladstone, 
 who was much opposed to such a course in the present 
 crisis, wrote as follows to Manning : — 
 
 Hawarden, N.W., Sunday, bth Januanj 1845. 
 
 My dear Manning — I have expressed to you the disinclina- 
 tion which, as a general rule, I feel to the practice of not voting 
 upon a definite and important question, such as the first of those 
 to be proposed at Oxford. . . . 
 
 The question which I wish to have considered is this : Why 
 should not you or some other propose an amendment to such 
 an eff"ect as this (which is very nearly in the sense of your letters 
 of 20th and 28th December) — that the propositions cited from 
 Ward's work (not saying each and all) were censurable upon the
 
 298 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 ground of variance "with the Articles and otherwise ; and that the 
 writer be incapacitated from teaching functions in the University 
 until he should have given satisfaction to it 1 
 
 This would, in my view, be going to the very farthest allow- 
 able point against "Ward ; and in my mind I should prefer the 
 first of these only. 
 
 If the amendment was rejected, as Mr. Gladstone 
 thought in all probability it would be, he was prepared to 
 vote against the first proposition of the Hebdomadal Board 
 on account of its impugning "Ward's good faith, and urged 
 Manning to take a similar decided step. 
 
 But [the letter concludes] do not answer me until it is con- 
 venient. Something must be done to bring men together. 
 You will know when you are mature enough to say anything to 
 me. — Believe me, affectionately yours, W. E. Gladstone. 
 
 Manning, naturally, had a strong objection to taking 
 such a prominent part in the contest as to move an amend- 
 ment ; but as Mr. Gladstone had " no strong feeling," as he 
 wrote to Manning, " in favour of it, except as preferable, if 
 practicable, to not voting at all," it was finally arranged 
 that he and Manning should record a direct " noii jjlacet" 
 
 Having come round to Mr. Gladstone's view. Manning 
 wrote as follows to Eobert "Wilberforce on the proposed 
 censure on "Ward : — 
 
 Lavington, \st February 1845. 
 
 My dear Egbert — As you have wi-itten to me, I hold 
 myself released from my promise to Sam not to write to you 
 about "Ward. My intention is to vote against both the proposed 
 censure and sentence, because I think it a high moral wrong to 
 condemn Ward of bad faith. It is no good to say that mala 
 fdes is only used technically : — 
 
 1. All the world takes it otherwise. 
 
 2. All I have met who mean to support it do so, as condemn- 
 ing the man's conscience and soul. I think it a high moral 
 wrong, because I believe — 
 
 (1) That it is false. 
 
 (2) That even if true before God, no proof is offered to 
 establish the charge. 
 
 1. It is one thing to condemn the man's principle of sub- 
 scribing as false.
 
 XIV WARD'S DEGRADATION 299 
 
 2. It is another to condemn the man as subscribing on that 
 principle in falsehood. 
 
 Of the first certain proofs arc produced. 
 
 Of the second none. 
 
 Now, I say, you ought, on the principles of universal justice, 
 to invert your intentions — i.e. instead of voting for it, and saying 
 you do not condemn him, you ought to vote against it, and say 
 that you do not hold his principles. And my reason is this : 
 You have a right to vote against the whole as a measure, without 
 discriminating between the truth and the falsehood of its parts, 
 because the power, and therefore the responsibility, of amending 
 the proposition is denied to you. 
 
 But you have no right to inflict, or even seem by miscon- 
 struction to inflict, an unjust or unproved condemnation on 
 any man. 
 
 The former course is simple political discretion, universal in 
 all legislation. The latter is a wrong, or equivalent to a wrong, 
 which is a positive sin in a judicial process. 
 
 I hope, on consideration, you will come to the same end \Wth 
 myself. 
 
 If you feel a desire to protect yourself against being supposed 
 to hold Ward's principles, sign the declaration lying at Burns's. 
 I do not sign it, because I have no fear or care about it. It is 
 to me a clear and straightforward case of fiat justitia, mat caelum. 
 
 By all means get Moberly's pamphlet, and for the legal 
 objection. Hall's. — Yours aff"ectionately, H. E. Manning. 
 
 P.S. — My letter, on reading, sounds savage; but it is only 
 written in haste. 
 
 Cardinal Manning vividly remembered the scene which 
 took place at Ward's degradation. Speaking on the subject 
 six or eight years before his death, he said — 
 
 I remember well going up to Oxford with Gladstone ; it was 
 a bitterly cold day in March : snow was on the ground. There 
 was an immense assemblage ; great excitement ; members of 
 Convocation had come up from all parts of the country, the 
 majority evidently hostile to Ward. As the sentence of Ward's 
 degradation was announced, turning to Mr. Gladstone, by whose 
 side I was standing, I said, dpx^] wSivmv. The ominous words 
 were heard. Men turned to look at us, and (he added with a 
 smile) we were too well known not to be recognised. 
 
 It was indeed an ominous year for the English Church 
 — the beginning of confusions. The more pronounced its
 
 300 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 Protestantism, the greater its danger. When, two years 
 before, on condemnation of Tract 90, its bishops took the 
 side of Protestantism, the real nature of the Anglican 
 Church revealed itself to Newman. 
 
 On Ward's degradation, Oakeley wrote to the Vice- 
 Chancellor avowing like principles, and boldly challenging 
 a like censure as that pronounced against Ward. In reply 
 to Manning's inquiries, Mr. Gladstone, in a letter dated 
 17th March 1845, wrote as follows: — 
 
 Oakeley has sadly complicated these vexed affairs. The 
 Bishop of London told me (1) how bitterly he regretted the 
 challenge ; (2) that he and all the bishops were convinced it 
 must be taken up ; (3) that if he could not get on in the Arches 
 Court he would act as diocesan, and suspend, or rather with- 
 draw, his licence. 
 
 I was also painfully impressed with the belief that Oakeley 
 had nothing like a measured theological view of the case. In 
 the meantime I think Oakeley becomes more tenacious. Last 
 night at Margaret Chapel I heard him for the first time in his 
 sermon advert in detail to the religious movement of the time, 
 and distinguished the earlier and less healthful from the later and 
 more healthful stages of its development. He is now evidently 
 Avedded in heart to this controversy of his own — a bad sign for 
 our peace. 
 
 Verily the eventful year 1845 was full of " bad signs" 
 for the peace of Anglicanism, so dear to the peace-loving 
 heart of the Archdeacon of Chichester. In an able letter 
 to Oakeley, in answer to his damaging criticisms, Manning 
 vindicated as best he could the historic claims of the Church 
 of England.^ 
 
 The Archdeacon of Chichester's attention and activity 
 were not confined to the theological troubles which afllicted 
 the Church of England ; but, as an ecclesiastical statesman, 
 he adopted the farseeing policy of preparing beforehand the 
 rulers of the State for the changes which their policy in 
 Ireland in regard to the endowment of Maynooth would be 
 certain to bring about in the position of the Church of 
 England. In vain, by appeals to liis sense of duty to the 
 
 ' In a letter, dated 31st March 1845, Mr. Gladstone expressed his "general 
 concurrence" with Manning's "historical letter to Oakeley."
 
 XIV THE MAYNOOTII GKANT 301 
 
 English Church, had Manniug endeavoured to induce Mr. 
 Gladstone to remain in office and support the Maynooth 
 grant on the twofold ground — (1) justice to Ireland; (2) 
 the establishment of concurrent endowment in Ireland and 
 England would safeguard the interests of the English Church. 
 In one of the last letters to Manning on this subject, 
 dated Carlton House Terrace, 26th April 1845, Mr. 
 Gladstone wrote : — 
 
 My dear Manning — I am anxious, but not about my own 
 reputation, nor about Maynooth. My cares have reference to 
 the future fortunes of the Irish Church. I have always looked 
 upon the Maynooth measiure as what is called buying time — a 
 process that presupposes the approach of the period of surrender. 
 Whether or not time will be actually gained as the result of the 
 measure, or whether the thing given and the thing sought will 
 both be lost is, I think, very doubtful. 
 
 What we pay, however, I do not consider to consist chiefly 
 in the £17,000 a year, but in the cession we make of most 
 important parts of the argument for the maintenance of the 
 Church in Ireland. . . . 
 
 Newman sent me a letter giving his own explanation of my 
 position ; it was admirably done. 
 
 And now, as to your two precepts, I can say nothing about 
 my disposition to return to office (let alone that of other people 
 to recall me) until my mind is made up what policy ought to 
 be adopted and maintained with regard to the Irish Church as 
 the guide of future years. — Believe me, ever affectionately yours, 
 
 W. E. Gladstone. 
 
 Failing to find in Mr. Gladstone, who had given pledges 
 to the country to maintain intact the Irish Church, 
 a supporter of the principle of concurrent endowment, 
 Manning, never at the end of his resources, appealed to 
 another cabinet minister, Mr. Sidney Herbert, in the 
 following letter : — 
 
 Lavington, 3rd April 1846. 
 
 My dear Herbert — I do not write to you because you have 
 not already enough to do, for I need not be told that every 
 member of the Cabinet has his hands and mind full enough at 
 this moment. 
 
 But I do so because I have been for a long time growing 
 more and m.ore anxious on subjects relating to the Enghsb
 
 302 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 Church ; and I seem to see the inevitable approach of questions 
 on whicli I wish all public men had their minds fully prepared. 
 Let me say at the outset that I look for no specific answers or 
 expression of opinion from you, because the subjects to which 
 I refer are of a nature on which your position gives you the 
 priAalege of silence. If you will let me have my say, I shall be 
 content. 
 
 First, then, comes the endowment of the Roman Church in 
 Ireland ; and I am fully prepared to assent to it on grounds of 
 political justice, and of soimd policy, for the improvement of 
 the social condition of Ireland. 
 
 Also, I think the principle of concurrent endowment is a 
 safeguard to all endo"\vments. All are bound over to keep the 
 peace. 
 
 But I cannot fail to see that it must greatly alter the re- 
 lative weight of the Roman and Irish Churches in Ireland. 
 Everything that gives organisation, recognition, and solidity, to 
 the Roman Chui'ch, makes it a more massive antagonist. 
 
 This, however, is less important than what is not far off. 
 I mean some re-casting of the Irish Church — I say re-casting, 
 because it seems to me that all the chief public men in Parlia- 
 ment are tending to that conclusion. 
 
 The Duke and Lord John Russell "vvill both maintain an 
 Established Church in Ireland as a part of the political Union 
 and Settlement. But under the cover of this there may be an 
 indefinite change in its extent, details, and endowments — witness 
 Lord Stanley's Act for the Union of Bishoprics. 
 
 But this again, as an Irish question, I would leave to the 
 Irish Church. 
 
 What I am concerned with is its aspect towards England ; 
 and its bearing upon the English Church. It seems to me 
 impossible that the Roman Church should acquire weight in 
 Ireland without giving weight to the Roman Church in England. 
 Hitherto a weak Irish Church in Ireland has been supported by 
 a strong English Church in England. 
 
 Hereafter a weak Roman Church in England %vill be rein- 
 forced by a strong Roman Church in Ireland. Now these 
 weights in the social and religious scale cannot be shifted about 
 without a dangerous disturbance of our general balance. And 
 I feel convinced that now — now beforehand, is the opportunity 
 for taking measures of precaution and preparation to put the 
 Church of England into a position of moral and popular strength. 
 
 At this time its popular strength is little, and its political 
 strength in the legislature is on the decline. I know of no 
 other hold a Church can have on a nation. It must either
 
 XIV THE MAYNOOTH GRANT 303 
 
 hold by the civil power or by the people, or by both. Now its 
 hold on the civil power is by acknowledgment indefinitely 
 weakened. And its hold on the people is, I firmly, and from 
 experience, believe to be more nominal than real. 
 
 If any distinctive and testing Church question should arise 
 in 1848, as in 1648, I believe the population would fall off as a 
 landslip ; and for this one and suflicient reason : The Church 
 has no adequate organisation for the vast populace of England 
 and Wales. 
 
 Now I am not going to trouble you with a longer letter ; 
 but if you will not think me unmerciful, I would ask you at 
 your leisure to read the enclosed paper, for which I am answer- 
 able. And if you will let me, at some future time I will add a 
 few more words on this subject. — Believe me, my dear Herbert, 
 yours very faithfully, H. E. Manning. 
 
 The Eight Honourable Sidney Herbert. 
 
 I have told my bookseller to send you a book which I hope 
 you will accept. 
 
 As an ecclesiastical statesman, endowed with practical 
 sagacity and far-reaching foresight; not averse to com- 
 promise ; ready to make sacrifices on the one hand, to 
 attain greater or more abiding advantages on the other ; 
 seeing more clearly than most men the issues of those great 
 politico-ecclesiastical questions, on which the mind of the 
 nation and Parliament were most divided. Manning took a 
 higher rank in his generation than he did as a thinker or 
 theologian. Mr Gladstone, who often consulted him on 
 ecclesiastical questions which divided parties in Parliament 
 and in the Church, like National Education and the 
 Maynooth Grant, had a very high opinion of his sagacity 
 and prudence. In those days, Manning's mind was more 
 supple than Mr. Gladstone's, whose principles the great 
 ecclesiastic considered too rigid and abstract. Manning, 
 as his letter to Sidney Herbert shows, was in favour of the 
 endowment of the Catholic Church in Ireland, not only out 
 of policy and justice, but out of expediency, for the principle 
 of concurrent endowment would safeguard the endowments 
 of the Church of England. He was ready, too, to throw 
 the Irish Church overboard, or to leave it as an Irish 
 question to take care of itself His main object in this
 
 304: CARDINAL MANNIXG chap, xiv 
 
 policy was to strengthen the position of the Church of 
 England. In this letter, Manning states that for want of 
 an adequate organisation, were any testing question to 
 arise, the population of England would fall off from the 
 Church like a landslip. This admission is at startling 
 variance with the statement made by ]\Ianning in his Charge 
 delivered at Chichester in July 18-il, that, in striking con- 
 trast with the Church in France, the English Church had a 
 firm hold on the heart and mind and intellect of the people 
 of England.^ 
 
 For his support of the Maynooth Grant — the endow- 
 ment, as it was called, of the Catholic Church in Ireland — 
 and for his compromise in 1849, which, though indirectly, 
 eventually led to giving up the management of Church schools 
 to the Committee of the Privy Council on Education, 
 Archdeacon Manning was denounced as a traitor and 
 time-server by the two most uncompromising men of 
 their day in the political and ecclesiastical world — Sir 
 Eobert Inglis and Archdeacon Denison. The testimony 
 of such men may, perhaps, be taken as in reality con- 
 firming Mr. Gladstone's judgment that Manning was a 
 great ecclesiastical statesman, not indisposed to act on the 
 principle, common in the political, and not altogether un- 
 known to the ecclesiastical world, of " give and take." ^ 
 
 1 Chapter X. p. 207. 
 
 2 Speaking on one occasion of Manning's practical wisdom, Mr. Gladstone 
 said, "When I was Secretary for the Colonial Office I often saw Sir James 
 Stephen, who was Under-Secretary : I remember well his once saying 
 to me, 'Manning is the wisest man I ever knew,' But I dou't think he 
 would have said so after Manning's change in his religious opinions." 
 
 Cardinal Manning seemed much gratified on learning Sir James Stephen's 
 high opinion, and said, "I knew him well; he was a man of excellent 
 judgment. He wrote with great clearness and was an able historia;.""
 
 CHAPTEE XV 
 
 NEWMAN'S CONVERSION 
 1845 
 
 Early iu the year 1845, an attempt was made by the 
 ultra-Protestant party at Oxford to induce the Heads of 
 Houses to take steps against Newman. Manning, with 
 quick and ready sympathy, sent a letter of condolence, to 
 which Newman replied as follows : — 
 
 LiTTLEMORE, 9th February 1845. 
 
 My dear Manning — I write a line to thank you for your 
 most kind and feeHng letter. I ought to bless those events 
 which occasion me such a pleasure. And indeed what is hap- 
 pening, while it has brought me some singular proofs of con- 
 sideration and friendship, has brought me nothing else. It is 
 but simple truth to say that I am quite unconcerned at what is 
 projected against me, and have no interest about next Thurs- 
 day's result higher than about the merest occurrence I might 
 read of in a newspaper, and not even the cm"iosity which uncon- 
 cerned spectators might feel about it. 
 
 You will be at no loss to understand this. I have ills which 
 Heads of Houses can neither augment nor cure. Real inward 
 pain makes one insensible to such shadows. — Ever yours 
 affectionately, John H Newman. 
 
 In the hope of appeasing the ultra-Protestant clamour, 
 and of reassuring bishops and Church dignitaries, excited 
 beyond measure by the results of the Oxford Movement 
 and by the dread of Newman's going over to Eome, the 
 Archdeacon of Chichester delivered a charge, in which he 
 exalted once more the Church of England, disparaged by 
 VOL. I X
 
 306 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 the Tractarians ; and once more attacked the Church of 
 Eome for which Dr. Pusey and his followers showed a 
 partial fondness and leaning. 
 
 The following passages from his Charge, delivered July 
 1845, betoken the Archdeacon's Protestant fervour: — 
 
 I humbly thank God that he has permitted me to be a 
 member of a Church in which I am not worthy to keep the 
 door. 
 
 And then the preacher goes on to speak of 
 
 the Church of England as a true and living member of the Holy 
 Catholic Church, neither heretical in dogma, nor schismatical in 
 the unhappy breach of Christendom ; in Avill and desire united 
 to all Christ's members upon earth ; her faith, the baptismal faith 
 of all saints from the beginning ; her cause austere but just, and 
 her plea valid in the court of heaven. And if this be so, then 
 in virtue and power she shall be, as she has been, a mother of 
 saints — a root of churches in east, west, and south ; at this 
 time it may be peculiarly tried, and yet there hath no trial come 
 upon us, but such as is common to the Church. Many more 
 threatening signs, even now, are hanging over almost all other 
 churches — signs of conflicts yet to be endured, with doubtful 
 issue, through which we have been saved, "yet so as by fire." 
 
 In a note to this Charge appears the following state- 
 ment : — 
 
 There is no branch of the Roman Catholic communion in the 
 north and west of Europe, which does not at this moment 
 exhibit signs of conflict, and some of a truly alarming kind. 
 Passing over the lesser contest in the Tyrol, and even in parts of 
 Belgium, of Avhich the Jesuits are the subject, it is enough to 
 mention France and Germany. In the former a strong move- 
 ment against the Roman Catholic Church has appeared in the 
 dioceses of Verdun, Chalons, Limoges, Poitiers, La Rochelle, 
 Bordeaux, Fr^jus. In the last, ten parishes have almost una- 
 nimously renounced Romanism. In La Rochelle it is said that 
 twenty-five parishes are desiring to be placed under Protestant 
 pastors. As to Germany, the late schism ^ has formed forty-eight 
 communities, and is still spreading. The state of Germany, 
 both among Protestants and Roman Catholics, gives warning of 
 
 ^ The movement of Ronge, an Apostate priest, a sort of anticipation of Dr. 
 Dollinger and the " Old Catholics " after the Vatican Council, but still more 
 insignificant and short-lived.
 
 XV NEWMAN'S CONVERSION 307 
 
 a fearful future. While we are listening at home to every word 
 and footfall, it may be that events are near elsewhere, which 
 shall make the whole Church ring.^ 
 
 Aud the Charge concludes, after prophesying evil things 
 for the Catholic Church in France and Germany, as 
 follows : — 
 
 Be our trials what they may, every year deepens in thousands 
 of contrite hearts the tokens of Christ's presence — every year 
 quickens and unfolds against all antagonistic powers the 
 spiritual life and fruitful energy of the Church which bore us. 
 And shall any be tempted to mistrust 1 Shall we ask proofs of 
 our regeneration, or of our waking consciousness, or of the 
 reality of our own soul ? There are things which go before all 
 proof — all reasonings rest upon them, logical defences cloud 
 their certainty. Such are our pledges of His presence. They 
 are the tokens of no hands but His ; and " if God be for us, 
 who can be against us ? " - 
 
 What a contrast does not Archdeacon Manning's Charge 
 present, perhaps intentionally, to the farewell sermon 
 preached by Newman on his retirement to Littlemore ! 
 " The Parting of Friends " was Newman's last sermon as 
 an Anglican. It was delivered at the chapel at Little- 
 more in the presence of Dr. Pusey, and of other intimate 
 friends and disciples who were deeply moved by Newman's 
 solemn and touching words. The concluding passage is 
 as follows : — - 
 
 my mother, whence is this unto thee, that thou hast good 
 things poured upon thee and canst not keep them, and bearest 
 children, yet darest not own them ? Why hast thou not the 
 skill to use their services, nor the heart to rejoice in their love 1 
 How is it that whatever is generous in purpose, and tender or 
 deep in devotion, thy flower and thy promise, falls from thy 
 bosom and finds no home within thine arms ] AVho hath put 
 this note upon thee to have "a miscarrying womb and dry 
 breasts," to be strange to thine own flesh, and thine eye cruel 
 towards thy little ones 1 Thine own offspring, the fruit of thy 
 womb, who love thee and would toil for thee, thou dost gaze 
 upon with fear, as though a portent, or thou dost loathe as an 
 offence — at best thou dost but endure, as if they had no claim 
 
 ^ A Charge delivered in July 1845, pp. 56-57. ^ jf^i^i^ p, 53^
 
 308 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 but on thy patience, self-possession, and vigilance, to be rid of 
 them as easily as thou mayest. Thou makest them " stand all the 
 day idle," as the very condition of thy bearing with them ; or 
 thou biddest them be gone, where they will be more welcome ; 
 or thou sellest them for nought to the stranger that passes by. 
 And what wilt thou do in the end thereof ? 
 
 In acknowledging his Charge of 1845, Dr. Pusey wrote 
 to the Archdeacon of Chichester, complaining of the want of 
 love shown to the Eoman Church ; and especially rebuking 
 Manning for rejoicing over the falling away of Eoman 
 Catholics in some of the dioceses of France into schism and 
 heresy ; and for encouraging, apparently, the setting up of 
 Protestant teachers. In reply to this rebuke, Archdeacon 
 Manning, 8th August 1845, wrote to Dr. Pusey saying: 
 
 We owe to the Church of Rome a pure Christian charity as 
 to a member of the Catholic body ; we owe the same also to the 
 churches of the east. I do not find you expressing the latter 
 feeling, and that seems to me the cause why you are misunder- 
 stood to have not a charity to the whole Body of Christ, but a 
 partial fondness and leaning to the Roman Church . . . will 
 you forgive me if I say it 1 (the tone you have adopted towards 
 the Church of Rome) seems to me to breathe not charity, but 
 want of decision. . . . 
 
 The Church of Rome for three hundred years has desired our 
 extinction. It is now undermining us. Suppose your own brother 
 to believe that he was divinely inspired to destroy you. The 
 highest duties would bind you to decisive, firm, and circumspect 
 precaution. Now a tone of love, such as you speak of, seems to 
 me to bind you also to speak plainly of the broad and glaring 
 evils of the Roman system. Are you prepared to do this ? If 
 not, it seems to me that the most powerful warnings of charity 
 forbid you to use a tone which cannot but lay asleep the con- 
 sciences of many for whom by writing and publishing you make 
 yourself responsible. 
 
 In the same letter, Manning added, " A Roman Catholic 
 said some time ago of certain Oxford men ' They are forging 
 new chains for themselves and riveting ours.' " ^ 
 
 The end was at hand. The event long foreboded with 
 sorrow and trembling of heart is come at last. Newman's 
 
 ^ Cauon Liddoii's Life of Dr. Pusey, p. 455.
 
 XV NEWMAN'S CONVERSION 309 
 
 retirement to Littlemore ended in his becoming a Catholic. 
 In spite of all that has been written on that event, two 
 such witnesses, so deeply interested in Newman as Mr. 
 Gladstone and Manning, have to-day, in their letters published 
 for the first time, spoken out in the fulness of their hearts ; 
 have borne public testimony — especially Mr. Gladstone, who 
 was so warmly attached to him — to the sense of loss produced 
 by Newman's conversion. The letters which passed on that 
 occasion between Mr. Gladstone and Manning, between 
 Manning and Newman — especially Newman's own letters — 
 add, even late as it is in the day, a new charm and interest 
 to the old story of the Tractarian movement and of its 
 illustrious leader. 
 
 Manning, on the occasion of Newman's conversion, had a 
 double duty to perform — the duty of private friendship and 
 the duty of public faith and policy. Each duty was discharged 
 with consummate tact and skill. In this chapter, however, 
 I have only to deal, or chiefly, with Manning's private 
 relations to Newman ; or with such acts as disturbed or 
 broke those relations. No one could perform the duties 
 of friendship or affection, whether of condolence or con- 
 gratulation, of sympathy or advice, with greater delicacy 
 or tenderness of expression than Manning. Tact, restraint, 
 grace guided every line, dictated every word or allusion in 
 the following letter ^ of Manning's, written on a most trying 
 and painful occasion : — 
 
 London, lAth October 1845. 
 
 My dear Newman — I have only this evening received your 
 letter dated the 8th. 
 
 If I knew what words would express my heartfelt love of 
 you, and keep my own conscience pure, I would use them. 
 Believe me I accept the letter you wrote me, at such a moment, 
 as a pledge of your affection. I shall keep it among many 
 memorials of past days and lasting sorrows. 
 
 Only believe always that I love you. If we may never meet 
 again in life at the same altar, may our intercessions for each 
 other, day by day, meet in the court of Heaven. And if it be 
 
 ^ This letter alone was preserved of those written since 1840. All the 
 rest, even the one described at the time as " a great gift," were destroyed by 
 Newman, subsequently to his correspondence with Archbishop Manning in 1866.
 
 310 CARDIXAL MANNING chap. 
 
 possible for such as I am, may we all, who are parted now, be 
 there at last united. 
 
 It is a time that admits but a few words ; and I will say no 
 more than that I am, my dear Newman, most affectionately 
 yours, H. E. Manning. 
 
 This letter brought to a dramatic close the relations, at 
 least during their Anglican days, of two men of such 
 opposite natures, characters, and sympathies as Newman 
 and Manning. 
 
 Of Newman's conversion there is no record extant in the 
 contemporary Diary. It may, however, once have existed, 
 for whole pages referring to that period have been destroyed. 
 The only contemporary evidence, apart from his public line 
 of action, of the effect produced on Manning's mind by 
 Newman's conversion is to be found in the correspondence 
 that passed between Manning and Mr. Gladstone and Eobert 
 Wilberforce. In this correspondence Manning's part is 
 slight. To such an intimate friend even as Eobert Wilber- 
 force a strange reserve is maintained in regard to the 
 expression of personal feeling or public regret at the loss to 
 the Church of England of such a man as Newman. 
 
 In a letter dated Lavington, 3rd November 1845, 
 Manning writes : — 
 
 My dear Egbert — . . . What shall I say of our dear friend 
 Newman 1 My heart is very heavy. I still seem to see great 
 difficulties before us ; and wish I could read and talk with you, 
 for we shall have to give plain answers and firm to many hard 
 questions. Not the least part of the difficulty will be to show 
 why principles are safe so far and no farther. — Ever yours very 
 affectionately, H. E. Manning. 
 
 Does not this statement of the difficulty of showing why 
 principles are safe so far and no farther, seem to imply that 
 principles are safe in the Anglican Church only so far as 
 they are not carried out — as Newman carried them out, to 
 their logical conclusion ? 
 
 Nearly two months later, in a letter dated Lavington, 
 30th December 1845, after explaining his reasons for refus- 
 ing the office of Sub-almoner, Manning writes about Newman's 
 book as follows: —
 
 XV NEWMAN'S CONVERSION 311 
 
 Now about better things — if I can call Newman's book good. 
 It seems to me a wonderful intellectual work. Sceptical in one 
 sense, as all estimates of evidence must be — e.g. It is most 
 probable that the Avorld was created as it is ; less so that it was 
 self-made, or is eternal. I am not sure that it is more sceptical 
 really than Butler, for all conviction rests on a balance of 
 intellectual reasons, apart from the spiritual consciousness. The 
 infallibility of truth, whether in the Church or the Scriptures, 
 rests on moral, i.e. scientifically imperfect evidence, and yet it is 
 the highest source of conviction. Still Newman's mind is subtle 
 even to excess, and to us seems certainly to be sceptical. 
 
 After reading the book I am left where I was found by it. 
 
 I do not believe in the fact of development in the Roman and 
 Lutheran sense, for they are both alike, with the advantage on 
 the Eoman side. I believe that the faith was perfected uno afflatu 
 by the inspiration of the Apostles. 
 
 2. That it has existed ideally perfect in the illuminated reason 
 of the Church from then till now. 
 
 3. That development, as in the creeds, has been logical and 
 verbal, not ideal or conceptional. 
 
 4. That the spiritual perceptions of the Church through con- 
 templation and devotion have become more intense, but always 
 within the same focus. 
 
 5. That the facts and documents of Eevelation have been 
 codified, harmonised, distributed, and cast into a scientific order, 
 capable of scientific expression. 
 
 But that the omer of manna (as St. Irenseus says of the 
 regula fidei) is in quantity unchanged, " He that gathereth 
 much hath nothing over," etc. 
 
 I have very slightly touched on this in my last University 
 Sermon. Tell me what you say of it. I hope it will hold, for if not 
 I do not see the end. Is it not strange that the Lutherans and 
 Lutheranizers ot rore /cat ol vvu hold a development ? Is it not 
 the refuge for the destitute, who can find no shelter in antiquity 1 
 Have you seen Trench's Hulsean Lectures ? It is a delightful book, 
 earnest, stirring, and eloquent, with a fine masculine imagination. 
 But his theory of development is to me fatal. It seems as if 
 the thought of the regula fidei, and the tradition of dogma, 
 and the whole oral confession of the faith seldom if ever crossed 
 his mind. It is Scripture and the student ; and the internal 
 needs of man's spirit developing Scripture by demands upon it, 
 there are more true things put in an untenable way than in any 
 recent book I have seen. If there be such a principle of 
 development at all, Newman has it against him a thousand to 
 one.
 
 312 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 It is no good to say Lutheran developments are in good faith 
 and Roman not. It begs the question, and then — Quo judice ? 
 
 Certainly with me the Councils of the Church, even of the 
 West, even in Trent, are against the private spirit. 
 
 Now this brings me to our dear brother. I am jealous of the 
 influence of Maurice over him ; and I am fearful in some points 
 even of Trench's, high as it is, for he is a noble fellow. But I 
 found Sam Wilberforce evidently full of Trench's theory of 
 development ; after shifting, for some time, he acquiesced in 
 what I have stated above. Whether he maintains this or that 
 at Oxford I do not know. 
 
 I love him very dearly and, as I am able, pray for him. But 
 let it pass ; only between our own minds I feel that he is afloat, 
 and I dread the direction he may be wafted in. 
 
 I say this, because I feel for myself that nothing but a deep 
 and solid foundation such as the Catholic Church has laid (as in 
 St. Thomas Aquinas, Melchior Camus, etc.), can keep a man from 
 intellectual uncertainty and fluctuation. So it is with me. I 
 have never found rest for my foot till I began to see the founda- 
 tion of systematic theology ; and I feel appalled at the thought 
 how little I know, i.e. in its principles. 
 
 To come back to Newman's book, there are some things 
 which go before all argument — e.g. the Invocation of God alone 
 — and some that survive all objections, the reality of the English 
 Church ; and these come through the book unhurt. 
 
 Now let me have a good letter of your own thoughts. 
 
 May all blessing be with you and your house. — Believe me, 
 my dear Robert, your very afi'ectionate, H. E. M. 
 
 I have desired Burns to send you my second volume of 
 
 Serrmns. 
 
 In his numerous letters to Robert Wilberforce there is 
 no further allusion to Nevi7man. It would almost seem, at 
 any rate as far as the expression of opinion or feeling goes, 
 that the question of the acceptance or refusal of the Sub-almon- 
 ership to the Queen were a matter of deeper concern to 
 Manning than Newman's conversion. 
 
 Mr. Gladstone, who was on more intimate terms with 
 Newman than Manning was, in a letter dated Baden-Baden, 
 20th October 1845, wrote as follows: — 
 
 My dear Manning — A few words in this day of trouble 
 must pass from me to you ; for your own sake I wish you had 
 been with me here at the time of Newman's secession. To see
 
 XV NEWMAN'S CONVERSION 313 
 
 the Roman Church on the defensive against Ronge, rationalism, 
 and thought tending towards rationalism within its own pale, 
 is in the nature of a corrective to that half-heartedness and 
 despondency Avhich is almost forced upon us at home by the 
 contemplation of our own difficulties. 
 
 After speaking in high terms of Dr. Dollinger and saying 
 that " almost all I see here drives my sympathy into the 
 Roman camp — that is quoad German matters," Mr. Gladstone 
 goes on — 
 
 Is there to be any firm and intelligible declaration from 
 Pusey 1 . . . I at one time thought of enclosing to you, for you 
 to use or not ... a letter to him (Pusey) expressing a very 
 strong hope that it was his intention upon the occasion of 
 Newman's secession to make some declaration of such a kind as 
 will settle and compose men's minds, or at least tend that way, 
 with a view to the future. No such effect as this is produced 
 by showing that after infinite question one can just make out a 
 case for remaining in the Church of England. 
 
 Then referring to Pusey he says : — 
 
 I do desire and pray that the trumpet shall not give an 
 uncertain sound, inasmuch as men are certainly called upon to 
 prepare themselves for the battle. It is possible that you may be 
 at work on this subject with him — if you are, pray say so much 
 of this to him in my name as you like, or as little, or none 
 at all. 
 
 Mr. Gladstone then adds : — 
 
 It may appear strange, but I have almost a feeling of dis- 
 appointment at not seeing more secessions with Newman ; because 
 it looks as if they were to follow. . . . However, I suppose and hope 
 that Newman's book will bring all this to a head ; and that 
 persons are waiting for that in order to declare themselves. It 
 is sad and bitter ; but a sweep now, and after that some repose, 
 is the choice of evils, — that which we should seek from the mercy 
 of God. — Your affectionate friend, W. E. Gladstone. 
 
 In a second letter dated Hagley, Stourbridge. 21st 
 November 1845, Mr. Gladstone writes as follows: — 
 
 M\ DEAR Manning — My chief object in writing is to 
 suggest to you the possibility that you may have to entertain the 
 idea of answering Newman's book. . . . After reading it I may
 
 3U CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 have to write to you again on the subject. It will probably be 
 a real and subtle argument, backed by great knowledge, and it 
 must not, if so, be allowed to pass unnoticed, nor should the task 
 be left to those who will do mischief. 
 
 All I will now say is this : if, upon reading it, you entertain 
 the notion that you can do it, do not lose a moment in making 
 known your intention among friends, and let it appear to the 
 public as soon as you have made any progress that will warrant 
 an advertisement. 
 
 Oakeley's is a sad production, very unworthy of him, except 
 in the spirit, Avhich seems to me gentle and good. 
 
 I grieve much over the loss of Faber. He was evidently 
 a man who understood working the popular side of this religious 
 movement, which has for the most part been left to shift for 
 itself. 
 
 I have no doubt that many persons are waiting for Newman's 
 book, and mean to say Aye or No, after reading it. — In haste, I 
 am, always affectionately yours, W. E. G. 
 
 Frederick Oakeley had always been, from their Oxford 
 days until his conversion in 1845, an intimate friend of Mr. 
 Gladstone's, vrho was in the habit of attending the services 
 in Margaret Street Chapel when Oakeley was the moving 
 spirit of that centre of Puseyite activity. Speaking of 
 Margaret Street Chapel in its unadorned days, Mr. Gladstone 
 once remarked : " The whole place was so filled by the 
 reverence of Oakeley's ministrations and manner, that its 
 barrenness and poverty passed unnoticed. His sermons," he 
 added " were always most admirable ; they never exceeded 
 twenty minutes." Canon Oakeley^ was on friendly terms 
 until his death with Mr. Gladstone. The golden rule of a 
 " twenty minutes " sermon acted as a charm on the most 
 exuberant speaker of his generation. Is not this another 
 illustration of the fact that they who themselves most indulge 
 in the longest of speeches admire most brevity in others ? 
 It is characteristic of Mr. Gladstone's eagerness and anxiety 
 
 1 Canon Oakeley, who was a friend and contemporary of Tait's at Oxford, 
 remained on terms of intimacy with him when he was Archbishop of 
 Canterbury, and was a welcome guest at Addington. On the occasion of 
 his first visit at the Palace Archbishop Tait said, late in the evening : We 
 are going to have family prayers, I suppose you would prefer to read your 
 Breviary in your own room.
 
 XV NEWMAN'S CONVERSION 315 
 
 on the subject of Newman's conversion and his strong desire 
 that Manning should undertake its refutation that, on the 
 very day he was appointed Secretary to the Colonies, he 
 again reiterated his appeal in a letter dated 
 
 Carlton House Terrace, 22rd December 1845. 
 
 My dear Manning — I had been long on the point of 
 writing to you. Newman's book interests me deeply, shakes 
 me not at all. I think he places Christianity on the edge of a 
 precipice ; from whence a bold and strong hand would throw it 
 over. 
 
 Your mind, I am sure, has been at work upon it ; but do not 
 hurry to tell me the results. I trust to see them ripen. 
 
 Many thanks for your sermons, which I have just received. A 
 blessed Christmas to you, you will not have this until that 
 happy morning. — Ever yours aflfectionately, 
 
 W. E. Gladstone. 
 
 rive days later Mr. Gladstone writes again : — 
 
 Hawarden, Sunday, 28th December 1845. 
 
 My dear Manning — I have got your note about Newman's 
 book, on which I shall be very brief. First, I am more sanguine 
 than you about the ultimate issue ; I am persuaded that Bishop 
 Butler, if he were alive, would in his quiet way tear the whole argu- 
 ment into shreds — wonderful as is the hook — so that one should 
 wonder where it had been. Secondly, I am heartily glad you are 
 at work upon it, and I augur that you will find your confidence 
 grow as you proceed. May God be with you in the task. I have 
 myself put down certain notes upon it : if I can connect them 
 sufiiciently, on some Sunday or Sundays, to give a hope of their 
 being any use to you, they shall be sent to you. Lastly, I agree 
 about the passage which you call " awful " respecting the Blessed 
 Virgin ; to me it realises both senses of that word, it is both 
 sublime and frightful. Perhaps, however, I am applying this 
 latter epithet to something beyond the limits of what you quote 
 — to the general doctrine, and the expressions contained in two 
 or three pages. 
 
 The perplexity arising from the publication of Newman's 
 Book The JEssay on Bevelojwient, a statement and explanation 
 of the grounds which justified and compelled his submission 
 to the Catholic Church, grew day by day in intensity. To
 
 316 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 Mr. Gladstone his reasoning seemed " to place Christianity 
 on the edge of a precipice " ; to Manning, the doctrine which 
 Newman upheld in regard to the Blessed Virgin as Mother 
 of God was " awful." The necessity of refuting his 
 arguments seemed to both alike imperative to save the 
 Church of England from the effects of the blow under which 
 it reeled ; to stop the continued and " dismal " progress of 
 converts to Eome. Mr. Gladstone was sanguine as to the 
 ultimate issue ; Manning despondent. Both alike were 
 agreed that Pusey was not the man to grapple with Newman. 
 Mr. Gladstone, in a letter dated Carlton House Terrace, 
 Sunday, 8th March 1846, speaking of Pusey, says: — 
 
 My dear Manning — I have read as yet only the preface of 
 Dr. Pusey's sermon, and I confess myself much shocked at his 
 allusion in a note to Mr. Newman's valuable sermon. Not that 
 the words express an untruth, but the whole circumstances 
 considered they appear to me little less than an outrage upon 
 decency. His cannot be the mind which is to afford the mould 
 to form future minds for the government of the fortunes of the 
 Church of England ; his personal character is a great light for 
 all, but his character and proceedings as a member of the body 
 suggest much matter for regret. I see I have written foolishly, 
 as if it were to be supposed that an individual is to give form 
 to the future mind of the Church among us ; I did not mean it ; 
 what has happened to Newman ought at least to rid us of that 
 delusion. 
 
 In another passage Mr. Gladstone says : — 
 
 Your account of Keble is comforting. I am sorry to say I 
 hear that both Isaac Williams and Sergeant Bellasis are in a very 
 uncertain state, but I cannot say I know it. Toovey, the book- 
 seller, it seems, has been smitten. We should pray first I suppose 
 that no more may go, and next, that which thou doest, do 
 quickly ? The Church of England cannot acquire a clear self- 
 consciousness till this dismal scries is at an end. It is a dismal 
 series ; we are unhappy in losing them, but the evil they do is 
 greatest in itself. I hope you will not hurry your proceedings 
 about Newman's book ; for its remoter consequences are more 
 serious, surely, than those which are immediate. 
 
 Manning's refutation of Newman's arguments, on which 
 Mr. Gladstone with many others had set his heart, was not
 
 XV NEWMAN'S CONVERSION 317 
 
 attempted, or if attempted, fell still-born. Manning's heart 
 gave way ; his calm and sanguine confidence in the Church 
 of England was shaken, five months later, by the pressure 
 of events ; by the going out of so many with Newman. 
 In a letter dated Lavington, August 1846, he tells Mr. 
 Gladstone : — " I have a fear, amounting to a belief, that the 
 Church of England must split asunder." Such a confession 
 came as a surprise upon Mr. Gladstone ; who maintained 
 his own strong conviction the other way, and in reply 
 said : — 
 
 Nothing can be more firm in my mind than the opposite idea, 
 that the Chiu-ch of England has not been marked out in this 
 way and that way for nought, that she will live through her 
 struggles, and that she has a great providential destiny before her. 
 He then reproaches Manning, saying : — I will say little in the 
 way of argument, but I will more rely on reminding you that 
 your present impressions are entirely at variance with those of 
 six or seven months ago. I begin now to think that on a matter 
 of magnitude I cannot difter from you ; so I have the most im- 
 mediate interest in your opinion, as I have a presentiment of its 
 pro^dng to be mine too, if it be indeed yours — hence this 
 intolerance on my part. 
 
 From that day forth, I may add, in all his voluminous 
 correspondence with Mr. Gladstone, Manning never again 
 confessed, at least until the Gorham Judgment, the doubts 
 and ditficulties which now began to beset his heart, or 
 his misgivings as to the future of the Anglican Church ; 
 on the contrary, he stoutly maintained in his letters to Mr. 
 Gladstone, as he did in his charges, tracts, and sermons, his 
 unshaken belief in the Church of England. It was to 
 Eobert Wilberforce that Manning now transferred the inter- 
 change of intimate confidences touching the breaking down 
 of his belief in Anglicanism. The correspondence between 
 Manning and Mr. Gladstone, turning aside from Newman 
 and his book, and from religious and theological questions, 
 drifted into ecclesiastical politics. As an ecclesiastical 
 statesman Manning was much exercised in spirit at the 
 effects which Sir Robert Peel's Eepeal of the Corn Laws 
 would have upon tithe -owners and the interests of the
 
 318 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 Church. JManniug complained bitterly to Mr. Gladstone 
 that " Sir Robert Peel would neither help the Church nor 
 allow her to help herself." 
 
 Manning's failure to grapple with Xewman's arguments 
 was accounted for at the time, and has been since, by 
 different persons in different ways. 
 
 Mr. Gladstone, in a recent conversation, told me it was 
 quite true that, on the publication of Newman's Essay on 
 Development, he had strongly pressed Manning to write a 
 refutation of the book, and that he had undertaken to do so. 
 " Manning," added Mr, Gladstone, " was however not strong 
 enough to grapple with Newman. Manning was an 
 ecclesiastical statesman ; very ascetic, but not a theologian, 
 nor deeply read." Then, after a few moments' reflection, he 
 added : — 
 
 " I may now tell you, what I had during the Cardinal's hfetime 
 advisedly -withheld. Newman's secession, followed by that of 
 so many others, not at Oxford only, but all over the country, 
 presented an intellectual difficulty which I was unable to solve. 
 What was the common bond of union, the common principle, 
 which led men of intellect so different, of such opposite 
 characters, acting under circumstances and with surroundings 
 so various, to come to one and the same conclusion ? " Speaking 
 with great earnestness, Mr. Gladstone continued, " I remember as 
 if it were yesterday, the house, the room, Manning's attitude as, 
 standing before me, I put to him that question. His answer was 
 slow and deliberate : ' Their common bond is their want of 
 truth.' I was surprised beyond measure and startled at 
 Manning's judgment." 
 
 It was easier, perhaps, for Manning to impute motives 
 than to answer arguments. 
 
 Two years later, in a letter to Laprimaudaye, his curate 
 at Lavington, and one of the most intimate of his friends, 
 Manning accounts for his not undertaking the refutation of 
 Newman's book on grounds different from those alleged 
 by Mr. Gladstone. Manning, in June 1847, wrote as 
 follows : — 
 
 When Newman's book Avas published, Gladstone urged me to 
 answer it. I declined pledging myself ; but it forced me again
 
 XV NEWMAN'S CONVERSION 319 
 
 into the two same subjects (Unity and Infallibility) to which I 
 have continued to give all the thought and reading I can. 
 
 And I im bound to say that I could not republish either of 
 the two books as they stand. They are inaccurate in some /ads, 
 incomplete as compared with the truth of the case, and concede 
 some of the main jmnts I intended to deny. 
 
 To Mr, Gladstone, ]\Ianning does not appear to have 
 thought it necessary to communicate the fact that, in en- 
 deavouring to refute the arguments in the Essay on 
 Development, his own conclusions concerning Eome and the 
 English Church were unsettled or upset. 
 
 On Newman's conversion not only the leadership, but to 
 a large extent the propelling force of the Tractarian move- 
 ment passed away from Oxford. Pusey was in a sense the 
 leader, but his power still was felt not so much in Oxford as 
 in the country and in London ; Keble indeed retained great 
 personal influence; but the motive power passed to the London 
 men — to Upton Eichards of Margaret Street, to Bennett of 
 St. Barnabas, and Neale and others — preachers and writers 
 and workers — and took a wider range and assumed a more 
 definite form and organisation. Manning, too, had not only 
 a special following of his own, but exercised considerable 
 influence as a moderating and restraining power. Men came 
 to him for counsel and comfort, and never went away empty- 
 handed. Another effect of Newman's conversion was to 
 open up a new sphere of activity to Manning, congenial to 
 his temperament, his moderation and love of peace, and, 
 perhaps, not out of accord with his hopes and ambitions. 
 After the first shock, the Archdeacon of Chichester cultivated 
 an attitude of benevolent neutrality between the two con- 
 tending parties in the Church. He eschewed controversy 
 himself and deprecated it in others. He stood forward 
 bearing the olive branch in his hand ; he laboured, heart 
 and soul, to save the Church he loved so well from being 
 split asunder. The bishops were beside themselves with 
 terror at the storm raised inside the Church and out of it by 
 Newman's secession, stirred anew as it was at every fresh 
 conversion. They looked benignly, if with little confidence, 
 on Manning's efforts as peacemaker; but had his efforts in
 
 320 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 this crisis succeeded iu a compromise, checking controversy 
 and establisliing peace between the more moderate men of 
 the two parties, their benedictions would not have been 
 withheld, nor a good word on his behalf, spoken in season 
 and in the proper quarters, have been wanting. 
 
 Eor eight years the writers of the Tracts for the Times 
 at Oxford had been labouring, heart and soul, in infusing 
 a new spirit into the Anglican Church, in reviving 
 doctrines which it had long since forgotten to hold, 
 far less to preach and teach, devotions it had ceased to 
 practise or even to remember. For eight years they 
 had been imsettling and disturbing minds by enlarging — in 
 spite of the Thirty-nine Articles, or by putting, as Ward 
 and only a few others did, a non-natural interpretation ^ on 
 them — the boundaries of the hitherto accepted or current 
 faith of the Church of England. In leading the Church 
 back to antiquity, in comparing its teaching with the faith 
 of primitive times, they discovered that doctrines and 
 devotions taught and practised in antiquity were wanting 
 in the Anglican Church. With an honest zeal the Tractarians 
 set to work to restore what they believed had been lost. 
 They exalted the sacredness of the Eucharistic rite ; and a 
 perpetual Sacrifice for the quick and the dead ; and insisted 
 on formal repentance for sin after baptism ; made selections 
 from the Eoman breviary of devotional services ; introduced 
 in a modified form praying for the dead, invocation of 
 saints, veneration of relics, and other Catholic doctrines and 
 practices. 
 
 But the chief characteristic of the elder Tractarians was 
 their impatience of error. They could not bring themselves 
 to tolerate the principle, as theii' successors have done, 
 that truth and error, the lion and tlie lamb, should be 
 permitted to lie down together within the fold of the 
 Church of England. Newman's aim, but not theirs, was to 
 purge the Anglican Church from its permitted heresies. 
 
 Since the condemnation of Tract 90 — that critical 
 turning-point in the Tractarian movement — Archdeacon 
 Manning had no lot or part, beyond that of a witness at 
 
 ^ Newman strongly objected to such a latitude of interpretation.
 
 XV NEWMAN'S CONVERSION 321 
 
 a distance, in the greatest moral revolution — greater Ijy far 
 and more far-reaching and abiding than the struggle of 
 Laud and the Nonjurors — which has ever befallen the 
 Anglican Church and the religious life of England. He 
 held aloof from, even if he did not look askance at, men 
 whose zeal he considered was not tempered by discretion, 
 or at all events by the prudence and tact which governed 
 his own conduct. On Newman's conversion, Manning 
 stepped forward, not to carry on Newman's work, but to 
 undo it ; to put a stop to the results of his teaching, and 
 still more to the force of his example. No one was better 
 adapted for such a saving office than the Archdeacon of 
 Chichester. He rallied the broken hosts, discomforted and 
 disunited in the first instance by the retirement of their 
 illustrious leader from the battlefield into silent Littlemore. 
 He took under his protecting wing the unsheltered and 
 orphaned children of the Oxford Movement. He inspired 
 the timid with courage ; brought back hope to the despairing ; 
 lifted up the hearts of the downcast and dismayed. He 
 inspired the souls of them that came to him in doubt, with 
 their faces already turned towards Eome, with all the con- 
 fidence in the Church of England which filled his own heart. 
 Yet, when the shock of Newman's departure from out of the 
 Anglican Church, though long expected, came at last, like a 
 sudden surprise, men's minds reeled and their hearts sank 
 within them ; they knew not what to do, whom to look to, 
 whither to go. And as week after week, month after month, 
 the long procession of them that went out with Newman 
 in the year 1845, that annus mirabilis, passed before their 
 saddened eyes, they, who had not the faith, the hope, the heart 
 to follow him — the scattered remnant of the Tractarian van- 
 guard — turned instinctively to Manning. His voice was 
 heard like that of one crying in the wilderness. He spoke, 
 as one inspired, of the divine certitude of his faith in the 
 Anglican Church. To the afflicted of heart, the troubled 
 in conscience, to those tortured by doubt, he presented 
 the Anglican Church, " primitive yet purified," possessed " of 
 purities in doctrine and practice wanting in the Western 
 Churches, whither in their impatience men had gone, seeking 
 VOL. I y
 
 322 CARDINAL MANNING chap, xv 
 
 what was not to be found." One tliincr alone was wantinj^ 
 to the absohite perfectibility of the Church of England ; and 
 that was her liberation from the bondage imposed upon her 
 by the usurpations of the Civil Power. He directed their 
 energies to this end, not only as good in itself, but as serving 
 to divert their minds from doubts or controversial difficulties. 
 His austere zeal, his earnestness, his personal piety and his 
 dogmatic assurances attracted the hearts of men in that day 
 of unrest. His confidence was contagious. He became a 
 tower of strength to the weak or the wavering. The timid, 
 almost frightened out of their wits by Newman's secession, 
 were reassured ; for such men instinctively felt that, under 
 Manning's guidance, they were walking on the ways of 
 safety and in the path of peace. " Safe as Manning," passed 
 almost into a proverb in that day of panic. Thus it was 
 that the Archdeacon of Chichester essayed to hold back the 
 remnant of the advanced Tractarian party from following 
 their illustrious leader to Eome. 
 
 Lavington became in the years that followed a half-way 
 house for pilgrims innumerable on their Eomeward way. But 
 the undoubting faith of Archdeacon Manning in the Anglican 
 Church, the magic of his personal influence over the hearts 
 and minds of men, his resolute will, held too many a soul 
 captive. Tor many — how many who shall tell ? — of the 
 pilgrims to Eome, Lavington was turned into a prison- 
 house. The captives were only set free, when their great 
 leader himself at last capitulated to Divine grace.
 
 CHAPTEE XVI 
 
 FACING DEATH 
 
 1847 
 
 Whether the Archdeacon of Chichester would have suc- 
 ceeded in the desire of his heart of effecting a compromise 
 between the antagonistic parties in the Church of England, 
 had not an event occurred, which arrested his course in 
 mid-career, and which wrought far-reaching changes in his 
 heart, in his way of looking at things, and in the prin- 
 ciples which guided his life — who shall say ? That event 
 was the illness which in 18-47 brought him, in the prime 
 of life, face to face with Death. 
 
 Of the change of heart which this illness brought 
 about ; of the fading away in the apparent presence of 
 death of his worldly ambitions, of his craving for name 
 and power, of his restless longing to rule as bishop, the 
 most graphic, and, in some passages, most pathetic hints 
 and indications, are given in his Diary. 
 
 This prolonged illness and Newman's conversion with its 
 after-effects — two events different in kind and contradictory 
 in the character of their influence — produced, the one 
 abiding, the other temporary, results on Manning's career. 
 The effect of Newman's conversion threw Manning back for 
 awhile; out of fear of Eoman tendencies he stifled doubts, 
 checked inquiries, and extolled more fervently than ever the 
 position and faith of the English Church. 
 
 In his contemporary Diary, under date Nov. 1845, Arch- 
 deacon Manning made the following statement : —
 
 324 CARDINAL MANNING 
 
 CHAP. 
 
 I feel that I have taken my last act in concert with those 
 who are moving in Oxford. Henceforward I shall endeavour, 
 by God's help, to act by myself as I have done hitherto, without 
 any alliance. 
 
 My duty is to live and die striving to edify the Church in 
 my own sphere. 
 
 This I trust to do without desire or fear for this world. I 
 have had caution [The following page is cut out.] 
 
 Whether the above entry refers to Newman's conversion 
 or to the Fifth of November Sermon 1843 is doubtful.^ 
 Be that however as it may, in an autobiographical Note 
 dated 1882, Cardinal Manning expressly says : — " Newman's 
 conversion threw me back." 
 
 This undoubtedly was the effect of Newman's conversion, 
 and of the consternation which it excited not only among 
 Ultra-Protestants and Low Churchmen, but in the moderate 
 High Church party, and more especially among the bishops. 
 Warned by Newman's retirement to Littlemore, the Arch- 
 deacon of Chichester had taken precautionary measures ; 
 but when the crisis came and the trying times that followed, 
 it required his utmost tact and skill to preserve a middle 
 course. Not because of hesitation in his own mind, but on 
 account of the strain and stress of external forces, hostile 
 to any form of compromise between Eome and popular 
 Protestantism. 
 
 During these trying times Manning was painfully alive 
 to the danger of adding fuel to the fire. Other men were 
 not as prudent or as circumspect as he was. He had 
 already reproached Dr. Pusey for the tenderness and 
 partiality he exhibited towards the Church of Eome. And 
 yet at such a crisis Dr. Pusey was bent on heaping fresh 
 coals on the fires of Protestant bigotry ; for in his coming 
 turn for preaching before the University he had chosen the 
 subject of Confession. 
 
 ^ This eutry would seem to refer to the 5th of November sermon, 1843. 
 The Diary is dated 1844 ; and the half-page containing the entry is gummed 
 into the Diary together with another entry of the same date referring to the 
 Lincoln's Inn Preachership and Mr. Gladstone. The Lincoln's Inn affair was 
 in 1843, and it is likewise in evidence that Manning "ceased to act in 
 concert" with the Tractarians in that year.
 
 XVI FACING DEATH 325 
 
 What more inopportune at a moment when Protestant 
 prejudice was incited to white heat against the practice of 
 hearing confessions in Anglican Churches, notably in the 
 Church of St. Saviour's, Leeds ; and when bishops like the 
 Bishop of Oxford were denouncing it as a " Eomish " practice? 
 In a letter to Dr. Pusey, Manning besought him to choose 
 a neutral subject instead of throwing down the gauntlet ; 
 " passions are subsiding," and besides, Manning added, " it 
 does not look well that you should seem to be always 
 mixed up in University squabbles." But, since the subject 
 fell in with the course he was delivering, Dr. Pusey was 
 not to be moved from his purpose. Neither could he be 
 induced to reef his sails during the storm, or to steer his 
 bark for a time into quiet waters. 
 
 After the fashion of Newman's " Library of the Fathers," 
 Pusey was endeavouring to obtain the co-operation of those 
 who had worked under Newman and others to establish a 
 library entitled " Commentary on the Scriptures for the 
 Unlearned." He sought Manning's co-operation as one of 
 the editors or contributors. The Archdeacon of Chichester 
 declined on the score that his time was too much engaged 
 in parish work. Such close association with Dr. Pusey did 
 not at such a time commend itself to Manning's judgment. 
 
 The effects of Newman's conversion, far from subsiding, 
 
 were on the increase. The numerous conversions at St, 
 
 Saviour's, in the parish of Leeds, of which Dean Hook was 
 
 vicar, were to Manning a cause of great annoyance and 
 
 apprehension. In answer to a letter in which Dr. Pusey 
 
 described the conversion of so many of the clergy of St. 
 
 Saviour's as " heart-breaking events," Manning wrote almost 
 
 the last letter before his illness early in February, to Dr, 
 
 Pusey, as follows : — 
 
 23rd January 1847. 
 
 I cannot but feel that such events happening one by one at 
 the altars which have stood as chief signs to be spoken against, 
 do reasonably throw upon the whole body of men we most hold 
 with a public imputation of uncertainty and secret unsteadiness. 
 
 I cannot wonder that great and extensive mistrust has grown 
 up. . . . You know how long I have to you expressed my con- 
 viction that a false position has been taken up in the Church of
 
 326 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 England. The direct and certain tendency, 1 believe, of what 
 remains of the original movement is to the Roman Church. 
 You know the minds of men about us far better than I do, and 
 will therefore know both how strong an impression the claims of 
 Rome have made on them, and how feeble and fragmentary are 
 the reasons on which they have made a sudden stand or halt in the 
 line on which they have been, perhaps insensibly, moving for years. 
 It is also clear that they are " revising the Reformation." 
 
 To Archdeacon Manning " revising the Reformation " 
 was an act almost as sacrilegious as revising the Bible. 
 
 Keble, who like Pusey was distressed at " the heart- 
 breaking events " at St. Saviour's, Leeds, wrote to Manning 
 as follows : — 
 
 My DEAR Manning — I enclose you this, as desired, with a 
 heavy heart ; more, however, on Hook's own account than from 
 any fear I have of his making his cause good, or staying the 
 good work which seems, by God's especial blessing, to be more 
 and more rife in our Church. We must make all allowances for 
 him. No doubt he must feel more than most others the un- 
 speakably pernicious eflfect of what has happened at Littlemore 
 especially, and afterwards at St. Saviour's, and other places. 
 Still, it is hard he should throw the onus on Pusey and St. 
 Saviour's. The worst I anticipate is that these good men may 
 be drawn into some other diocese — to Devonport, where the good 
 work is said to be going on most blessedly. — Ever yours most 
 affectionately, J. Keble. 
 
 (" These good men," the clergy of St. Saviour's, alluded 
 to by Keble, eventually went over to Rome.) 
 
 Dean Hook, the vicar of Leeds, already frantic at the 
 practices and devotions carried on at St. Saviour's, was 
 incensed beyond measure at the report that, in company 
 with Dr. Pusey, Archdeacon Manning was to preach at St. 
 Saviour's, and wrote the following fierce and intolerant 
 letter to Manning : — 
 
 Vicarage, Leeds. 
 
 My dear Manning — The people of St. Saviour's are boast- 
 ing of a triumph over me by the approach of Archdeacon Man- 
 ning and Mr. Keble to preach their anniversary sermon. 
 
 As I think it more probable that they have asked you to 
 come than that you have given your consent, I take the liberty
 
 XVI FACING DEATH 327 
 
 of laying the following facts before you, in the hope that you 
 will consider them before you decide. 
 
 By coming to St. Saviour's you give your sanction to prin- 
 ciples and practices which I reprobate. The St. Saviour's 
 curates will assert, very fairly, that what I reprobate is sanctioned 
 by Archdeacon Manning and Mr. Keble. And then what is the 
 only course left open to me ? I must express in public what I 
 have said among very private friends, that feelings of painful in- 
 dignation have been excited in my bosom by Keble's preface to 
 his sermons. I think it scarcely possible that it could have been 
 written by the author of The Christian Year. I must also express 
 in public what I have said in private, that my principles are wide 
 as the poles asunder from those of Archdeacon Manning in his 
 last volume of sermons. 
 
 Now this will appear mere laughing matter perhaps, to you, 
 and you will feel, like Pusey, that I shall be damaged rather 
 than you. This may be true. But still it must be done, and 
 some men of high calibre agree with me in thinking that a 
 breach is inevitable between the old High Church party and 
 the Puseyites. I am only waiting for a fit opportunity to ex- 
 press my abhorrence of Dr. Pusey's principles. If I were com- 
 pelled to make my choice, I would rather choose the principles 
 of the Record than his. 
 
 But one's heart shrinks from an open rupture with those 
 whom he once esteemed. A crisis is at hand. War is inevit- 
 able. But still one dreads the first blow. The severance is 
 unavoidable, but still the longer it is actually avoided one has 
 ground to hope even against hope ; but I shall say no more, do 
 as you please. Perhaps you think the sooner the blow comes 
 the better ; so be it. 
 
 I hope, my dear Manning, that you will not be oftended at 
 the freedom with which I write. It is better on all accounts 
 that things should be plainly stated ; and if we are to be foemen 
 I hope we shall still be foes who will respect each other. — 
 Believe me to be, yours very faithfully, T. Hook. 
 
 P.S. — If you come there will be a gathering of Puseyites, 
 blockheads from all Yorkshire, but not one clergyman in Leeds 
 beyond those of St. Saviour's will attend. 
 
 To this intemperate letter Manning gave a conciliatory 
 answer, which succeeded, as he told Mr. Gladstone, in 
 keeping the peace and avoiding public discussion. In 
 reply to this conciliatory letter Dean Hook wrote as 
 follows : — ■
 
 328 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 Vicarage, Leeds. 
 
 My dear Friend — I thank you most heartily for your kind 
 letter, to the kind feelings of which I most cordially respond. 
 
 My object in writing has been mistaken. I wanted to avoid 
 division as long as possible, and therefore I asked you not to 
 come here, that I might not be obliged to speak out. 
 
 Those Avhom I took for Church of England men, and who as 
 such hated Popery, who once, as in the Tracts for the Times, 
 openly assailed Popery, I find now to be enamoured of her. I 
 find young men thinking it orthodox to read and study Popish 
 books of devotion, and to imitate Popish priests in their attire ; 
 I find Justification by faith, the doctrine of our articles, the test 
 of a standing or falling Church, repudiated, and consequent!}^ a 
 set of works of supererogation and a feeling in favour of the 
 intercession of those who are supposed to have been more than 
 unprofitable servants ; I find Confession, which our Church 
 permits as a means of comfort to the weak and foolish, received 
 as a means of grace and therefore essential, — an error which 
 leads to the virtual denial of the only chance of comfort, the 
 Justification by faith, — and finding these things in places where 
 I did not expect it, I am grieved to the heart. If I am 
 obliged to speak out, I will. But I shall keep silence until it is 
 necessary for my own people, with whom only I have to do, to 
 speak. 
 
 Again and again I thank you for your kind feeling. My 
 heart is yours. Oh ! would that you were like Hooker : I want no 
 more. Who so catholic as to what relates to Justification ? 
 The union of these two truths is the glory of the Church of 
 England, against Papists who anathematise Justification by faith, 
 and against ultra-Protestants who do not believe in sacramental 
 grace. 
 
 I have let my pen run on, though I only meant to thank 
 you for your letter, and to assure you that I am most sincerely 
 3'ours, J. H. Hook. 
 
 Mr. Gladstone wrote to Manning on the subject of 
 Hook's attacks, and said : " I sav^ Hook yesterday ; he is 
 drivelling." 
 
 Pusey's indiscretions, the practices at St. Saviour's, the 
 numerous " secessions " to Kome, were among the troubles 
 which vexed Manning's spirit on the eve of his prolonged 
 illness. 
 
 In such a life as Manning's the action of Divine grace 
 must needs be taken into special account. His nature was
 
 XVI FACING DEATH 329 
 
 peculiarly susceptible to impressions or suggestions either of 
 good or evil. For instance, his surroundings in London, 
 the sight or society of men of his own standing and acquaint- 
 ance making their way in life, like Mr. Gladstone in the 
 State, like his brother-in-law Bishop Wilberforce in the 
 Church, excited in Archdeacon Manning's breast, as he put 
 on record at the time, feelings of ambition, rivalry, envy — 
 those spurs of the flesh which others might account natural 
 or venial, he denounces in the secret chambers of his 
 heart as temptations to sin, to vanity and worldliness of 
 life. His conscience was sensitive and scrupulous, as the 
 long inward struggle which preceded his refusal of the 
 office of Sub-almoner amply testifies. Deep rooted in his 
 soul was the fear of God ; and the sense of moral responsi- 
 bility acted as a sharp curb on his action and conduct. 
 The natural man, indeed, hungered after honour and pre- 
 ferment. The hope of future elevation in the Church was 
 a stay on which his heart rested. In a passage of his Diary 
 I have already quoted, speaking of what he is resting upon. 
 Manning says : " I think it is partly the esteem of others 
 . . . and on expectation of something to come."^ 
 
 In the year 1846, the Archdeacon of Chichester was in 
 the high tide of prosperity and advancement. His faith in 
 the Church of England was, as yet, unshaken. In a letter 
 to Eobert Wilberforce he says : " Nothing can shake my 
 belief of the presence of Christ in our Church and Sacra- 
 ments. I feel incapable of doubting it." His moderation 
 was praised of all men. He was on intimate terms with 
 rising statesmen. The prospect of a mitre was before his 
 eyes.^ In the midst of all these hopes, ambitions, and 
 delights of life an illness fell upon him — a visitation of God's 
 hand in mercy, as he justly regarded it. What effect this 
 visitation produced upon his heart and soul. Manning has 
 himself recorded in the pages of his Diary. Speaking of 
 this long illness which brought him face to face with death, 
 
 1 Vide Chap. XIII. p. 282. 
 
 - In a conversation with Cardinal Manning on the near prospect he at 
 one time had of receiving an Anglican mitre, he said : "What an escape for 
 my poor soul ! "
 
 330 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 he wrote on the day after leaving La\dngton for the first 
 time after fifteen weeks' seclusion, as follows : — 
 
 Blessed time ! I never was so alone with God ; never so near 
 to Him ; never so visited by Him ; never so awakened from 
 dreaming ; never so aware of the vain show in which I have been 
 walking ; never so conscious of the realities of the world beyond 
 the grave. . . . 
 
 I was never so long alone ; and so wholly thrown upon mj own 
 soul and upon Him. And He did not leave me nor forsake me. 
 
 It was not sickness only, or fear of death, that oppressed 
 him ; but solitude. For Manning was taken on the sudden 
 by the hand of God out of the world in which for three or 
 four years ^ he had been living with such eagerness ; aspir- 
 ing, if the truth must be told, as it is told in his Diary, for 
 elevation to the Bench of Bishops as giving him an oppor- 
 tunity, in that day of disunion and discord, of promoting imity 
 in the Church. Solitude brought meditation. His sensitive 
 conscience was awakened. Self-examination pursued in a 
 spirit almost morbid, partly by nature, partly by illness, 
 resulted in self-accusations, if true in substance or in their 
 broad lines, exaggerated out of all proportion to the real 
 offences, or inclinations of his nature. 
 
 In reading, therefore, some of the following extracts of 
 Manning's Diary it must be borne in mind, under what 
 circumstances they were written, and due allowance made 
 for the effects of illness and depression of spirits. On the 
 other hand, I must repeat that his Diary was carefully 
 revised and expurgated by Manning as cardinal. Its pages, 
 if they reveal at times temptations to worldliness, and the 
 workings of ambition or vainglory, bear witness to a sensi- 
 tive and scrupulous conscience, and a God-fearing spirit. 
 
 Extracts from Diary. 
 Meigate, 1th February 1847. — I have just perceived a faint^ 
 
 ^ Described in the Diary as "Three and a half years of declension,"' 
 July 1843 to February 1847. 
 
 - Manning was on a visit to his mother at R(nf,'ate. On the first symptom 
 of illness showing itself he returned to Lavington.
 
 ivr FACING DEATH 331 
 
 thread of blood, probably from the membrane of the throat. 
 My first words were, So be it. Fiat voluntas tua, as I remember 
 saying on that day. I note this only because it is well to note 
 beginnings, and to begin early. If nothing come, what loss 1 if 
 anything, all well. 
 
 And how do I feel about death 1 If I knew that this was 
 my warning, what should I feel 1 Certainly great fear. 
 
 1 . Because of the uncertainty of our state before God. 
 
 2. Because of the consciousness — 
 
 (1) Of great sins past. 
 
 (2) Of great sinfulness. 
 
 (3) Of most shallow repentance. 
 What shall I do ? 
 
 (TO) 0ew \ 
 Xapt? ) and make a full confession. 
 18th March/ 
 2. Next try to make restitution by acknowledgment, counsel, 
 warning. Next begin to repent and pray. 
 
 10^/i February 1847. — If I knew that I were now to die, what 
 should I feel ? 
 
 1 . Fear of Judgment 1 Yes. 
 
 Both because of my great sins and of my little repentance. 
 Also of my unreal religion. That is, my sins before and after 
 conversion. I tremble at having usurped the language of a 
 saint-shaving been such a sinner and being so little penitent. 
 
 Nothing that I have ever done in my personal and pastoral 
 life is even moderately free from evil. My prayers, communions, 
 acts of professed obedience and self-denial : my preaching, 
 teaching, tending the sick, almsgiving, writing, speaking, all are 
 hollow, and stained horribly by self. 
 
 2. Kegret at leaving this life ? I hardly dare say no — and 
 yet cannot simply say yes. I feel that to die as I am would be 
 a fall of many illusions — and a sad feeling of incompleteness 
 and unprofitableness comes over me. 
 
 To leave my name as it is, and work, and aims ; and yet I 
 have no folly about fame or desire. 
 
 Still a sense of reAetoTT^s — of old age and the officiorum cursus 
 — hangs about me (" 12th August 1871 " ^). But what am I, 
 having been what I was, that I should be anything in the 
 Kingdom of Christ ! I have formed to myself, at times, visions 
 of a life of Pastoral oversight and an Ecclesiastical Familia. But 
 what are these to Rest, and the lowest place beneath the feet of 
 the Elect 1 
 
 ^ Date inserted by Cardinal Manning in 1871.
 
 332 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 3. Sorrow at parting from friends 1 Except the instincts of 
 nature, I think not. 
 
 4. For all things besides that are in the world, I seem to 
 have no hold of them nor they of me. 
 
 Money, rank, intellect, fellowship of minds, ease, refined 
 pleasure, etc. 
 
 All these are as nothing. 
 
 The fellowship of God and His saints is a thought of bliss, 
 and to be myself pure and capable of such fellowship is a joy 
 like unto them that dream. . . . 
 
 23/v/ Ft'hruary. — Now I desire to know how to use this sick- 
 ness : I desire it may do many things ; but one will be enough. 
 If I may in the spirit of St. Francis's prayer die to the world, 
 '• ut amore amoris Tui viundo 77ioriar." But how can I make this a 
 reality in my state of life ? This I pray God to show me. 
 
 How can I die to the world 1 
 
 1. My kinship surrounds me with ties of blood. 
 My priesthood 'svith a flock. 
 
 My archdeaconry with a multitude of persons, and relations. 
 I need not break from these, but live in them, not for them, 
 or by them. 
 
 2. Should I refuse all beyond them 1 I think not — e.g. 
 London and afar off. 
 
 3. Should I refuse all visits and invitations 1 
 
 Not all — e.g. when asked as a priest; nor when 
 
 charity may be served. 
 
 But I think I may give up all such of them as I ca7i ; never 
 going by choice or for my own pleasure. 
 
 4. Shall I give up my carriage and servant 1 
 
 I have resolved so to do, at least for a time. 23rd March. 
 
 5. Can I make any rules about reading books, and topics of 
 conversation ? 
 
 6. Is it not rather by longer prayer, and living more to, with, 
 and in God ? 
 
 This seems to me — 
 
 (1) What I most lack. 
 
 (2) What is most direct and dynamical. 
 
 To-day I have seen my name in a way which some time ago 
 — two years ago — would have made my heart beat quicker.^ It 
 
 ^ The Christian Remembrancer which, on Archdeacon Manning's breaking 
 with the Tractarians three or four years before, had spoken of him "as a 
 man whom the Church needs in her highest offices, and who cannot be 
 allowed to rest even in the honourable post which he now adorns," now again 
 brou"ht forward Manning's name in connection with the next vacant mitre.
 
 xv£ FACING DEATH 333 
 
 now fills me with perplexity. Such an offer would be a ndxaipa 
 SuTTOfios, and must cut one way or the other. 
 
 If I were to say yes, there would be a life of struggle and 
 conscious difficulty, yet it might be a Providential appointment 
 in the direction of unity ; and my place may be here. 
 
 If I were to say no, I should feel more free forever from the 
 fear of some low temptations — though other subtle ones would 
 arise. 
 
 Now I despair of any solution of such difficulty from my own 
 reason, from the reason of any counsellor on earth. 
 
 It seems to me that nothing but a Divine light could show 
 me my duty, and for this from this night I will daily pray. 
 
 Is this the answer to the question of last night, mundo moriar 
 — sed quomodo ? 
 
 To-day come the tidings of Henry's dear boy's death. I 
 believe he is following the Lamb. 
 
 Four times I have sinned by impatience. Twice with Ann. 
 Once with each — . Certainly not through malitki, as the persons 
 Mdll be enough to show, and I trust followed in all cases by an 
 immediate acknowledgment, though not humble enough. It is 
 wonderful : only an hour or so before I had been reading, mark- 
 ing, and assenting to a sentence in the Via Vitce Eternce, saying 
 that all trials are God directly trying us, and I thought of Ann's 
 knocking at the door. In a moment came the same with an 
 open window. What a fool it shows me to be — I am put to 
 sport for my intoxications about perfection. God give me grace 
 to be passive and impassive — sicut cadaver. 
 
 lOth February 1847. — To-day is the last Friday of the rule 
 made last Ash Wednesday. 
 
 I do not remember to have willingly broken it. Once or 
 twice being from home without this book I have been forced to 
 go over the Confession in my mind, no doubt with some omis- 
 sion of detail ; none I think of species. 
 
 The Seven Penitential Psalms I do not remember to have 
 left unsaid. But what distraction, haste, sloth, insensibility. 
 I have need to ask forgiveness specially for the sins of my 
 penance. Unworthy the name. I trust, however, it has brought 
 me down, and changed my line from a boaster to a penitent. 
 (Here follows a prayer.) 
 
 18th March. — Now for this Lent I desire — 
 
 1. To abstain either Wednesdays and Fridays, or Wednes- 
 days, Fridays, and Saturdays, as I feel myself able, being lower 
 than I was. (Suspended by a physician.) To use no pleasant 
 bread except on Sundays and feasts, such as cake and sweetmeat. 
 I do not include plain biscuits. Kept.
 
 334 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 2. To give the price of three days' dinners to Mrs. Kentfield 
 this Lent, week by week. Kept. 
 
 3. To use the form of self-examination and of penitential 
 Psalms on Wednesdays and Fridays, as last year. Kept. 
 
 4. To add a third time of prayer. Kept. 
 
 5. To read Father Thomas at night, the Vui Vitce Eternce in 
 the morning. Kept. The M.C. Catechism any time. 
 
 6. To begin a daily intercession — 
 
 (1) For the Church. Kept in a measure. 
 
 (2) For this country. 
 
 (3) For individuals more in eo:tenso. 
 
 7. To use a special prayer before study. Kepit in a measure. 
 
 8. To read the special intercession at Blessed Sacrament. 
 Kept in a measure. 
 
 9. To note down a record of confitenda. Kept in a measure. 
 Sth April 1847. — Beus in adjutorium intende. 
 
 Ash Wednesday, 20th February 1847. —The order of a 
 physician forced me to take broth yesterday, Friday, and to-day, 
 and I fear will suspend my rules. I am so afraid that this sick- 
 ness is passing away ■udthout a blessing, that I desire at least to 
 adopt some lasting rules out of it. 
 
 1. To make my night prayers forty instead of thirty 
 minutes. I so mistrust myself that I hardly dare resolve on 
 more. 
 
 2. To embody in a prayer a commemoration of this sickness, 
 of God's mercy in it, and of what I desire to learn from it. 
 
 (Here several pages are cut out.) 
 Qth March. — Now I feel troubled about this Lent and my 
 entire unobservances ; also about this blessed time of retreat 
 lest I should lose it. My wish, therefore, is to make three 
 resolutions — 
 
 1. To take three-quarters of an hour morning and night. 
 
 2. To read some portion of Holy Scripture daily kneeling. 
 
 3. To make the rule of the seven penitential Psalms, Wed- 
 nesdays and Fridays, perpetual for life, subject to Spiritual Guide. 
 
 Lady Day, 25th March 1847. 
 
 Chief Agents in my Conversion. 
 1. 2. 3. Lines erased by Cardinal Manning, 1886. 
 
 4. My admission to Lavington, 1833. 
 
 5. Entry erased (year of his wife's death), 1837. 
 
 6. The hearing of confessions, 1844. 
 
 7. The growing up of hope, 1845. 
 
 8. My illness, 1847. 
 
 These are, I think, the chief agents under God in my con- 
 version.
 
 XVI FACING DEATH 335 
 
 I trust the tendency has been onward for these twenty years, 
 fourteen years, ten years, three years, and one year. 
 
 My repentence is nothing, and my religion to be repented 
 of. 
 
 Tlie sloth and unprofitableness of my life are only equalled by 
 my vanity and self-complacenc}^. I have talked like a saint ; 
 dreamed of myself as a saint ; and flattered myself as if I did 
 the work of a saint ; and now find that I am not worthy to be 
 called a penitent. 
 
 God has in His great love smitten me again. 
 
 I take this illness as a discharge from all subjects of 
 controversy. It is impossible for me to make up my mind on 
 such a matter, in my present state, as it may be in the time left 
 to me. 
 
 At this moment my sole fear of death is my own sinfulness. 
 
 If He should please to take me, perhaps for ever, it might be 
 safest after my quasi baptism. 
 
 Or, if he spare me, my desire would be to — 
 
 1. Devote myself to keeping alive my preparation for death. 
 
 2. To preparing others whether in life or dying. 
 One week since the greatest conscious act of my life. 
 
 In the course of this week I have begun again with the 
 reckoning. 
 
 Petulance twice. 
 
 Omission of spiritual service. 
 
 Want of love to my neighbours. 
 
 Complacent visions. 
 
 But in all these, except once under the first, I think there 
 has been no conscious, at least mwose, consent of the will. 
 
 26<A March. 
 
 Psalm Ixxvii. 10. 
 God's special mercies to me. 
 
 1. My creation ex num ; possib^. 
 
 2. My regeneration, elect from mankind. 
 
 3. My pure and loving home, and parents. 
 
 4. The long-sufferings which bore with me for twenty years 
 until my conversion, restraining me, preventing me. 
 
 5. The preservation of my life six times to my knowledge — 
 
 (1) In illness at the age of nine. 
 
 (2) In the water. 
 
 (3) By a runaway horse at Oxford. 
 
 (4) By the same. 
 
 (5) By falling nearly through the ceiling of a church. 
 
 (6) Again by fall of a horse. And I know not how often 
 
 in shootino;, ridin";, etc.
 
 336 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 G. By preserving me from great j^ublic shame, 1827-44. 
 
 7. By calling me to holy orders, and suffering me to be on 
 His side against the world. 
 
 8. By afflicting me, 1837. 
 
 9. By prospering me, as a token of forgiveness. 
 10. By chastening me now. 
 
 11th March. — God's special mercies to me. 
 Thou hast — 
 
 1. Created me. 
 
 2. Kedeemed. 
 
 3. Regenerated. 
 
 4. Blessed home, parents, friends, goods of life, education. 
 
 5. Spared for twenty years in sin, in six dangers at least. 
 
 6. Restrained in unnumbered temptations, intentions, inchoate 
 sins. 
 
 7. Prevented. Leading me by books, friends, events, truth, 
 and spirit. 
 
 8. Converted. From twenty to twent3'-three. 
 
 9. Convinced. Unto this day ; never more than in the last 
 two years. 
 
 The same. 
 Declension : 3| years, secularitj-, vanity, 
 
 Great sloth in parish work and prayer. 
 1837, 1847. 
 The same : realisation of His presence and 
 
 The same : and sixteen lonely years. 
 
 16. Kindled. Desire of oneness. 
 
 17. Softened. To penitents, to poor, to all I trust. 
 
 18. Humbled. 1844, 1847. 
 
 19. Called me to the altar. 
 
 20. Wrought by me. 
 
 Shall all this be in vain ] Shall the dead praise thee, 
 Lord? 
 
 Palm Sunday, 28th March. — I have just had a proof of the 
 unchanged sinfulness of my heart. I could not bear to hear 
 Laprimaudaye commended even in a matter which ought to 
 make me give thanks. ^ I abhorred myself on the spot, and 
 looked upward for help. 
 
 God is witness that I abhor this for its malice, its meanness, 
 its impiety. 
 
 ^ Laprimaudaye had been commended for bringing so many souls to God 
 durinK Lent. 
 
 10. 
 
 Enlightened, 
 
 11. 
 
 Reclaimed. 
 
 anger. 
 
 
 12. 
 
 Quickened. 
 
 13. 
 
 Chastised. 
 
 14. 
 
 Awakened. 
 
 of death. 
 
 15. 
 
 Bruised. T
 
 XVI FACING DEATH 337 
 
 I would to God that I could say from my soul, of every 
 brother and in everything, " He must increase." I do desire 
 the most perfect self-examination. I feel some comfort in look- 
 ing back and seeing that Christmas Day and Epiphany both 
 bear witness that these were my desires in life and health. It 
 seems to me that God has in love been weaning me from all 
 things that I may possess Him, and be possessed by Him alone. 
 
 1 . From sins of the flesh and spirit. 
 
 2. From love of worldly pleasure. 
 
 3. From worldly ambition. 
 
 4. From love of happiness. 
 
 5. From love of active popularity. 
 
 6. From ecclesiastical ambition. This is lessened chiefly by 
 estrangement from the actual. 
 
 7. From the desire of excluding all from my flock and friends. 
 
 8. From intellectual sensuality. 
 
 9. From spiritual visions of sanctity and service. 
 
 " Did we but see, 
 When life first opened," etc. 
 
 I seem now to have two chief thoughts, God and death. And 
 to desire, if He be pleased to spare me, to give the end of my 
 life to two works. 
 
 1. The sustaining of my present preparation for ever. 
 
 2. The preparing of sick and dying. 
 
 This perhaps may be the answer to my question, Feb. 24, 
 " Mundo moriar / but how ? " 
 
 I do from my soul desire to die to everything which is not in 
 God. 
 
 I trust I am willing to be supplanted, dispossessed, dethroned 
 from the heart of all creatures, so that I may have no heart to 
 rest on but His. I do not mean that I should not be the object 
 of love to any, because this is sweet and blessed ; only I wish 
 not to aim at it, not to put my happiness in it, not to draw my 
 consolation from it. 
 
 St. Mark xiii., " Is it I ? " 
 
 Easter Eve, 1847. — I wish still to keep myself as if I had 
 received my discharge from this world, and to keep close to the 
 foot of the cross. I fear to be again absorbed even in thought 
 
 11... ^ 
 
 by the activities of life. I should soon grow again ambitious, 
 conscious, and bold in speech. For I am capable of all evil, nothing 
 but the hand of God has kept me from being the vilest of 
 creatures, and nothing can. I feel now that if I were within the 
 sphere of temptation I should sin by a perpetual backsliding. 
 VOL. I Z
 
 338 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 May this Lent be so stamped into my soul that I may never 
 lose it ; and if I die, may I die in Christ ; and if I live, may I 
 live in a perpetual Lent like this as to its spiritual realities, that 
 living or dying I may be His. 
 
 I feel to burn with shame at the self-love with which I have 
 magnified this illness ; thought life of importance, sought health 
 by all carefulness. . . . 
 
 My external work seems wound up, and I am more than 
 content, if only I can live in divine love, and have my life hid 
 with Christ in God. 
 
 Easter Day, 1847. — Lent is indeed now over, for the first 
 vespers of Easter have been said. 
 
 What a Lent it has been to me ! From Shrove Tuesday I 
 have been in this house. 
 
 Yet truly no Lent in my life has been like it. All others 
 have been shadows, and this the substance. They have been 
 preparations for this reality. 
 
 There are two very awful qualities in sin — -(1) We do it 
 voluntarily ; (2) that it preys upon us passively. 
 
 Now I have the latter to-day from jealousy. 
 
 I do not think I have actively and voluntarily consented ; but 
 I have felt a sort of poisonous, feverish, impatient sensation ; 
 partly lest it should be true, but chiefly that it should be thought 
 true.^ 
 
 I suppose nothing but the pure and perfect love of God can 
 heal me. 
 
 How I ought to have rejoiced — 
 
 1. For the glory of God. 
 
 2. For the love of our blessed Lord. 
 
 3. For love of souls. 
 
 4. For love of my brother. 
 
 5. For love of humiliations. 
 
 6. For the discipline of lowliness. 
 
 7. For the oj^portunity of concealing and hiding myself. 
 
 I have prayed that all pride, vanity, envy, jealousy, rivalry, 
 and ambition may be crucified in me ; and I accept this as a nail 
 driven into me, and desire to be wholly crucified. I had rather 
 suffer any humiliation and disappointment than harbour the 
 accursed shame of jealousy. 
 
 ^ Namely, that Laprimaudaye had brought more of the Lavington flock to 
 their Easter communions than Manning himself had brought in former Lents.
 
 XVI FACING DEATH 339 
 
 Easier Monday. — This morning in sacro : — 
 
 1. For all gifts of grace on Lapriraaudaye, that where I have 
 gathered one of my flock he may gather ten. 
 
 2. For the rooting out of every resentful, impatient, sensitive 
 feeling towards P(usey ?). 
 
 3. For a risen life resting upon His death ; a life of love, 
 joying and rejoicing in the gifts and graces of all, forgetting 
 myself ; and for lowliness, that I may love shadows and humilia- 
 tions, and never undo them by explanations. 
 
 Having prayed for this, and resolved not to enter upon the 
 subject of last night (though I believe I always reserved the 
 stating of facts to Laprimaudaye, and answering questions), I was 
 drawn by his showing me the list (of Easter communions) into 
 saying things which I know embodied and vented feelings of evil. 
 
 In satisfaction for this, I desire now to give him this copy of 
 the Breviary, and to say how sincerely I feel that my flock have 
 been better in his hands than in mine. 
 
 May God accept this through Jesus Christ. 
 
 This long illness which, in the fulness of life, in the 
 high tide of prosperity, brought Manning face to face with 
 death, which wrought such a change of heart, is now 
 passing away. In his Diary, under the date 10 th May, 
 he thus records his recovery : — 
 
 I am now going to breathe fresh air once more. God grant 
 it may be not unto renewed sickness, but health. If it be for 
 the glory of Thy name, and the sanctification of my soul. 
 
 11th May. — To-day I went out once more into the free air 
 and sun of heaven. With what gladness I cannot say. I trust 
 with a thankful heart. It was most sweet, most refreshing. 
 The earth and the world never looked to me so benign, beautiful, 
 and lovely. I fear I love it too well and have too little desire 
 for God's Kingdom " which is far better." And I am conscious 
 that in all this sickness my care for myself has been delicate 
 and selfish, and for my own sake, not for God. I do earnestly 
 desire that this may be a stage and a step in ray life. 
 
 This day twelve weeks Ferguson came to me first. What 
 days and nights have passed since then. And what tender 
 mercies of God. 
 
 Oh that I may never be a burning mountain again. . . . 
 
 On his two doctors ordering him to go abroad. Manning 
 made the following entry in his Diary : —
 
 340 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 I am willing to lay aside the work I am printing. 
 
 I am willing to follow step by step, not knowing whither I go. 
 
 I am willing in my superior will to go where God wills, and 
 for as long and for such end as He ordains, whether for life or 
 death, that living or dying I may be united to Him. 
 
 The next entry in the Diary is as follows : — 
 
 8th June. — I trust I shall never again, if God in his goodness 
 give me life, return to the fierce, isolated, resentful spirit I had 
 before I was ill. 
 
 If I remember I had even then begun to strive against it, 
 but I have dreadfully sinned by what St. Thomas Aquinas 
 calls a clownish temper — an dypoiKLa — as with James Hilton. 
 ... I do not remember any one with whom I have ill will. 
 Mr. Bliss and Mr. Davies ^ have exchanged with me pledges of 
 kindness. So Mr. Murray. I cannot remember any other. How 
 thankful I am that I never had a controversy, nor, so far as I 
 know, a personal quarrel since I came to manhood. God has 
 wonderfully made men to be at peace with me, even in the 
 midst of strife ; and given me the love of friends and the 
 forbearance of enemies. I trust my memory would not be one 
 of division. . . . 
 
 The following entry alludes to the commencement of the 
 last illness of his wife, 22nd June, 1837 : — 
 
 24th June. — This time ten years ago the end was in its be- 
 ginning. It opened on the 22 nd, and I then said from my soul 
 what I say now, " Thy will be done." . . . 
 
 Manning's heart was lieavy about things spiritual as 
 weU as temporal, as the following letters to Eobert Wilber- 
 force show : — 
 
 P'ri'V(^i^- L.\viNGTON, Qth March 1847. 
 
 My DEAR Robert — Your kind words gave me great pleasure 
 this morning. I had been inclining to write to you, wishing to 
 ask your prayers more than at other times, not for bodily health, 
 but that I may have the grace of a fervent repentance, of zeal 
 and sorrow. You cannot ask this more than I need it. I 
 know you will ask it, for the love we bear each other. For my 
 part I ought to love you as I do, for I owe you more than I can 
 repay. 
 
 ^ The Rev. Mr. Davies, a Low Churchman of Chichester, wrote a book 
 attacking Manning's sermon Tlie Rule of Faith in 1838.
 
 XVI FACING DEATH 341 
 
 As to illness, I am ashamed to make so much of so little. I 
 have been near to an illness, but, by God's mercy, I trust it is 
 gone. It may make me liable to it, but I believe that is all. 
 As to the future, I do not yet look on. It vi^ould be to me too 
 little trial to be idle and to go southward to make it good for 
 me to think of it. 
 
 I do somewhat feel uneasy at this being no Lent to me, 
 and yet in one way it has been more than any Lent. 
 
 Are you likely to be this way before Easter 1 — Believe me, 
 my dear Kobert, ever yours aflfectionately, 
 
 H. E. Manning. 
 
 44 Cadogax Place, 9th June 1847. 
 
 My dear Robert — Your kind letter, as yours always do, 
 gave me much comfort. For though I thank God that I have 
 not felt out of heart, yet four months' illness, the removal of my 
 dearest mother, the suspension of all work, and the prospect of 
 leaving home for a long time, have turned all thoughts and feel- 
 ings out of old channels into a new one, somewhat of a sudden. 
 Still I may say with an open heart to you I never felt the 
 thought, I trust I may say the presence and the love, of God so 
 near and full of peace. 
 
 Dr. Ferguson has tried my chest, and says he finds no 
 tubercles, but great weakness ; and said that my heart and 
 pulse are young, but all the rest old. Would to God it were in 
 ripeness as well as weakness. He wishes me to go slowly south- 
 ward and reach Italy about October. 
 
 So much for myself ; and now, my dear Robert, I feel much 
 the thought of being parted from you : when, please God, I am 
 away, I shall feel still more how little I have ever done for any 
 one. I remember you morning and night and often at the 
 altar, and this I may do, I trust, still. You will, I hope, not 
 forget me. 
 
 I am very glad that your coming to London is fixed for the 
 end of this month, as, if all goes well, I shall be here to make 
 ready for starting. 
 
 I should very much like to go into some of the subjects of 
 your letter ; but I feel that illness is a discharge from the schools, 
 and it seems but for me to think more of the points which are 
 believed on both sides. What you say is my feeling that the 
 presence and office of the Holy Spirit in the Church is the true 
 foundation of certainty and perpetuity in doctrine. And that 
 this is an object of faith. Everything below this seems to me 
 to be in principle purely rationalistic, whether the judge of 
 doctrine and tradition be an individual or a synod.
 
 342 CARDINAL MANNING ciiAr. xvi 
 
 I cannot end this without thanking you for what you said 
 about my dearest mother. It is strange we should both go into 
 the same sorrow almost together. It has somehow made the 
 unseen world more like home to me in childhood, and after-life 
 is already there. 
 
 Pray for me that I may not come short of it. — Believe me, 
 my dearest Robert, yours very affectionately, H. E. M. 
 
 The following remarks, with which he concludes his 
 Diary — the record of his long illness, of his wrestlings 
 with self, of his change of heart — bear edifjdng witness to 
 Manning's vivid belief in the supernatural, trust in God, 
 and touching resignation to the Divine "Will : — 
 
 Whitsunday, 1847. — How can I ever bless God for this 
 sickness ! Without it I should have died eternally. 
 
 I feel that I have to begin my repentance as the Prodigal : 
 and my religion from the alphabet. Make me to be as a little 
 child. 
 
 11th June. — I have just come down from Lavington Church, 
 having given thanks for the mercies of God in the last five 
 months. Truly this sickness " is dearer unto me than thousands 
 of gold and silver." ... The Church seemed very beautiful ; it 
 had lost its familiar look and seemed strange and new to me, 
 as I remember school used after holidays. The chaunting struck 
 me, yet I wandered in my prayers. I had, I think, a more 
 real sight of the unseen world and the object of worship ; but 
 my mind wandered on both sides. I felt moved and thankful. 
 But I asked myself to-day what I was getting well for ? At 
 longest, to be sick again soon and for the last time. And 
 between now and then what? (1887 is the answer put in by 
 Cardinal Manning.) . . . 
 
 Voluntas Dei, 5th July 1847, Lavington. — I have just come 
 down from the altar, having offered once more. ... I never 
 felt the power of love more : nor so much bound to my flock. 
 It is the strongest bond I have. I believe it to be of the reality 
 of the Catholic Church. And yet it will bear no theological 
 argument except a denial of visible unity altogether — which is 
 self-evidently false. 
 
 To-morrow by the will of God I go forth, it may be for a 
 year, it may be for ever. I feel to be in His hands. I know 
 not what is good for myself.
 
 CHAPTEE XYII 
 
 A SPIRITUAL RETREAT IN CATHOLIC COUNTRIES 
 
 1847-1848 
 
 " It is I : be not afraid." 
 
 Nine years after his first visit to Eome, under circum- 
 stances how different ; with what a change of heart towards 
 the claims of the Catholic Church on his faith ; with a 
 spirit how chastened by tribulation, did not Manning in 
 1847 rise up from what he had believed to be liis death- 
 bed and go forth Eomewards, to meet half-way the destiny 
 prepared for him by the grace of God ! Natural weakness 
 after so long an illness ; anxiety ; and fear for the results of 
 the future, beset his heart. As in 1838, troops of friends 
 prayed for his welfare — no longer among them to-day the 
 most affectionate of them all, S. ¥. Wood, who had gone 
 to his rest ; nor Newman, who, living out of the world that 
 knew him no more, was studying for the priesthood in Eome. 
 In a letter of introduction to Dr. Dollinger, Mr. Glad- 
 stone put Manning on his guard respecting certain critical 
 objections to the main argument of his work, The Unity 
 of the Church, held by the eminent Church historian, and 
 suggested to his friend as a convenient tu quoque in regard 
 to the Catholic Church the prevalence of a growing 
 rationalism within its pale, as evidenced by the movement 
 in Germany of Eonge, a priest who with his followers had 
 cast off the yoke of Eome.^ 
 
 ^ Ronge was an apostate priest who resisted the jurisdiction of Eome. 
 But the rebellion was insignificant and short-lived.
 
 344 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 In Archdeacon's Manning's Diary, dated 8tli July 1847, 
 are carefully recorded, often with great minuteness, the impres- 
 sions conveyed to his mind by Catholic worship as presented 
 to his view, practically for the first time, in the churches, 
 cathedrals, and convents of Belgium and Germany, France 
 and Italy ; secondly, events of public interest, of which he 
 was an eye-witness, notably at Eome in 1848, when he 
 watched w^ith no idle curiosity the first beginnings of the 
 Italian Eevolution, which led to the flight of Pope Pius IX. 
 to Gaeta ; and finally, the men of name and note, the makers 
 of history, with whom, especially in the city of the Popes, 
 he was brought into close contact — the leaders of the 
 Eevolution, or its abettors, or its apologists, on the one 
 hand, and on the other, the defenders of the Catholic cause 
 and of the Holy See, foremost among these Pope Pius IX. 
 himself. 
 
 What imparts its special interest to Archdeacon Man- 
 ning's Diary is its spontaneous character. It was evidently 
 not written with a view to publication. Indeed, Cardinal 
 Manning had more than once expressed to me his disdain 
 for the idle folk who run up and down Europe, note-book 
 in hand, jotting down remarks and reflections as material 
 for book-making. His own Diary is simply a daily record 
 of events. It contains notes on men and things ; friendly 
 interviews with Catholic priests and monks in Belgium and 
 Germany, in France and Italy ; reflections on the method 
 and character of Catholic worship ; comparison between its 
 objective presentation of Divine truth and the Anglican 
 system. Naturally, on his arrival in Eome, Archdeacon 
 Manning's Diary expands and embraces in its purview a 
 greater variety of subjects, not without interest to the 
 politician as well as to the theologian or the student of 
 ecclesiastical history. It records conversations and discus- 
 sions on the moral, religious, and political state of Eome, 
 on the laxity of ecclesiastical discipline, on the frequentation 
 of the sacraments, on the Temporal Power of the Popes, on 
 the relations of Pius IX. with Austria on the one hand, and 
 with the revolutionary movement in Italy on the other. 
 
 The year in which Archdeacon Manning visited Italy
 
 XVII A SPIRITUAL RETREAT IN CATHOLIC COUNTRIES 345 
 
 and Eome, and of which his Diary is a record, was, it must 
 be remembered, a year of public turmoil and trouble through- 
 out Europe, when other thrones beside the Pope's were 
 attacked and shaken — the Eevolutionary year, 1848, the 
 birthtime, for good or evil, of great political, social, and 
 religious changes in what was once known as Christendom, 
 but which can now only be described as a congeries of States 
 morally independent of each other, and released from the 
 ancient authority and bond of Christian unity. -^ 
 
 It is curious to note with what avidity the leaders and 
 spokesmen of the Eevolutionary party in Eome confided their 
 hopes and views and wishes to Archdeacon Manning, known 
 to them only as an Englishman of distinction, a prominent 
 member of the Anglican Church. They, who were familiar 
 with the Eome of the popes in those days, know with what 
 untiring energy the leaders of the Eevolution laboured to 
 influence the public opinion of Europe. No visitor of dis- 
 tinction escaped their polite attentions. They pounced upon 
 him and poured into his ear the real or imaginary grievances 
 which the Eomans had to endure under the temporal power. 
 Archdeacon Manning listened to the violent harangues of 
 Gavazzi, to the revolutionary theories of Padre Ventura, and 
 to the propositions and plans of Ciceroaicchio ; but it is 
 characteristic of his intellectual acuteness to find, as his 
 Diary often records, that he was able to separate the grain 
 of wheat from the bushel of chaff. We often, for instance, 
 find in these pages the Anglican archdeacon in his discus- 
 sions with the politicians of Eome — priests or monks, as 
 well as laymen — defending the sovereign rights of the Pope 
 and the authority of the Church against the partisans of the 
 Eevolution, led away, as so many were in 1848, by the 
 promises of Italian unity.^ Sometimes, indeed, Archdeacon 
 Manning seems to have been captivated or captured by the 
 
 ^ Vide Cardinal Manning's England mid Christendcnn. 
 
 ^ Miss R. H. Busk, the author of that celebrated book, The Folk-Lore of 
 Rome, and many other popular works on Italy, speaking of the Revolution in 
 Rome, wrote to me, at the time of the Piedmontese invasion, as follows : — 
 " What lured people, who did not care a fig for Italian unity, to submit to 
 the Revolution was, as I know well from talking to them, the promises which 
 the Revolutionists made, that they were going to bring in an El Dorado."
 
 346 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 specious arguments advanced by the more moderate or more 
 astute opponents of the Temporal Power, or at any rate to 
 have given an apparent acquiescence to the revolutionary 
 theories propounded by men like Padre Ventura. 
 
 It must be remembered that at the date of Archdeacon 
 Manning's residence in Eome, in the spring of 1848, the 
 revolutionary character of the Italian movement was not fully 
 recognised. Many good Catholics, priests as well as laymen, 
 indulged in the dream of a united Italy under the headship 
 of the Pope. In the beginning of his reign Pius IX. 
 himself, carried away by his generous instincts and love for 
 Italy, held out hopes that he would, as Sovereign Pontiff, 
 bestow his blessing on the Italian movement, send his army 
 into the field against Austria, and promised, if Padre Ventura 
 is to be believed, on the morrow of victory to crown at Milan 
 Carlo Alberto, King of Piedmont, with the iron crown. All 
 these hopes and vain dreams were dissipated and destroyed 
 by the famous Allocution of 29th April 1848, by which 
 Pius IX., forced by their maliciously extravagant claims and 
 demands, broke with the Eevolutionary party, the character 
 of which was only too manifest, not only by the principles 
 which they enunciated, but by their rebellious acts and 
 misdeeds. The assassination of Eossi, the Pope's prime 
 minister, on the steps of the Cancellaria, forced Pius IX. 
 into a life-long antagonism with the Eevolution. 
 
 After this break with Eevolutionary Liberalism, shortly 
 before his departure from Eome, Archdeacon Manning found 
 men's minds in a state of ferment. Many priests, with 
 whom he came in contact, were loud in condemning the 
 action of the Pope. In the Diary a passage is quoted in 
 which the well-known Padre Ventura heaped words of 
 insult and contumely on the head of Pope Pius, whom but 
 a week or two before he had extolled as " an angel from 
 Heaven," as " Divine love incarnate." 
 
 Cardinal Manning told me in 1887 that many of the 
 priests and monks, described in his Diary as loud and 
 clamorous in the revolutionary cause, are now good and 
 holy priests ; several of them high in office and dignity. 
 " From one, perhaps the most violent and extreme, I have
 
 XVII A SPIRITUAL RETREAT IN CATHOLIC COUNTRIES 347 
 
 to-day," added the Cardinal, " received a letter ; he is now 
 a prelate in Eome and something more." 
 
 One of the chief features in the Diary are the copious 
 notes on sermons delivered in various churches at Kome. 
 The archdeacon appears to have been a regular attendant ; 
 his criticisms on the sermons are interesting, and still more so 
 the synopsis which he draws out of the argument used by 
 the preacher. These " skeleton sermons " may have offered 
 years afterwards to the newly-ordained priest of Westminster 
 topics and suggestions for some of those striking discourses 
 which he delivered at the Jesuit Church in Farm Street, or 
 at St. Mary of the Angels, Bayswater. 
 
 At some of the monasteries which he was in the habit 
 of visiting, Archdeacon Manning appears to have been 
 catechised more than once by the good monks as to his 
 own ecclesiastical position, and as to how his religious 
 creed differed from ordinary Protestantism. 
 
 It is not difficult to conceive the surprise, if not indigna- 
 tion, felt by Archdeacon Manning — one of the great leaders 
 and lights of the Anglican Church — at being challenged by 
 simple ItaHan monks to show his right to the name of 
 Catholic ; and still more at being cross-questioned as to the 
 character of his Orders. From one passage at least in the 
 Diary, the Anglican archdeacon appears to have thought 
 that the zeal of his catechists was not always tempered by 
 discretion. On one occasion he accounts for the controversy 
 running somewhat high by the absence of the more moderate- 
 minded or discreet prior. The Anglican Branch -Church 
 theory seems to have surpassed the understanding of these 
 simple and straightforward Italian monks. On taking leave 
 of his monastic friends at Assisi on his departure for England, 
 May 14, 1848, the venerable Prior,^ with tears in his eyes, 
 kissing Archdeacon Manning on both cheeks, implored him 
 on his return home to consult some competent English 
 Catholic on the vital difference between Protestantism 
 under every variety of form and the Catholic Church. 
 
 One curious peculiarity of the Diary is the careful daily record 
 kept at Eome of the wind and weather ; in this, if in nothing 
 
 ^ Padre Luigi, Prior of "Gli Angeli" at Assisi.
 
 348 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 else under heaven, Archdeacon Manning resembled Pugin, 
 the great reviver of Gothic Art, who would almost as soon 
 have omitted his morning prayers as his daily weather-chart. 
 The Diary, I may add, is illustrated by frequent pen- 
 and-ink sketches of shrines and altars, of ruined towers and 
 of churches of special interest, often accompanied by elaborate 
 ground-plans, exhibiting no mean architectural knowledge and 
 skill. From the copious materials afforded by this Diary, after 
 recording his experiences in Belgium, I shall give such ex- 
 tracts as illustrate the important events of which Archdeacon 
 Manning was an eye-witness in Eome in the critical year of 
 1848 ; or as record his opinions, religious or political ; or his 
 often acute comments on the events he witnessed ; or on the 
 leading men, ecclesiastical or lay, with whom he was brought 
 into close, often intimate, contact during his long stay at 
 Eome. It will be conducive also to the fuller understanding 
 of the state of his mind and feelings at this critical period of 
 his life, if I recite such passages, even if unimportant, or of no 
 present interest, as are characteristic of the writer, or show 
 the tendency of his mind at a time when he had, as the 
 Germans so well express it, no Ahnung as yet, that he stood 
 at the threshold of that far-famed and mighty Church, of 
 which in after years he was predestined to become not only 
 a faithful son, but a most eminent defender, bearing witness 
 among his own people to its Divine character and to the 
 infallible authority of its Supreme Head. 
 
 Archdeacon Manning in Belgium, July 9-20, 1847. 
 
 On the fly-leaf of the Diary is the following entry : — 
 
 I was ill in the spring of 1847, and in July went to Homburg. 
 
 Dodsworth joined me, and we went on into Switzerland. I 
 fell ill at Lucerne, and was obliged to come home. 
 
 But in October started again with Colonel Austen and my 
 sister Caroline, and stayed in Rome till May 1848, and reached 
 home July 18th.i 
 
 ^ It is somewhat curious that Archdeacon Mannint,', so particular and 
 exact as to dates throughout the whole of his Diary, should have made a mis- 
 take as to the date of his reaching home. His return to England was not on 
 the 18th of July, but of June.
 
 XVII A SPIRITUAL RETREAT IN CATHOLIC COUNTRIES 349 
 
 At the time of this visit with Archdeacon Manning to 
 Switzerland, Mr. Dodsworth, who had been incumbent of 
 the chapel in Margaret Street, famous then as now for its 
 advanced High Church principles and practices, was per- 
 petual curate of Christ Church, St. Pancras. In Frederick 
 Oakeley's days Mr. Gladstone was a frequent worshipper 
 at Margaret Street Chapel. 
 
 8^/i July. — From London by railroad at J past 1. Dover 6 
 o'clock. 
 
 9/A July. — From Dover at 7 A.M. Ostend \ past 11 ; by 
 rail at 3 to Bruges ; from Bruges at 5 to Gand. 
 
 10^^ July. — At Gand. The Beguinage : a long square of 
 houses with walled gardens, and in the centre the church ; all 
 of red brick with a Dutch look. At 2 by railway to Malines. 
 
 An annual fair exactly opposite to the windows of the hotel ; 
 and the noise all day till 11 at night ceaseless. 
 
 At the cathedral, Saturday evening ; the Salut and Exposition ; 
 the procession gave me a strong feeling of the reality of the 
 Incarnation and of their way of witnessing to it. This morning, 
 high mass with much splendour. The Elevation very solemn 
 and impressive ; vivid by exhibiting the One Great Sacrifice. 
 The church very full all the morning, many thousands. At 
 vespers about 6 or 7. Priests and a choir of 20 or 30. Full 
 end to end. 
 
 The church of St. Aloysius attached to the Beguinage. 
 Great number of religious in white and in black hoods. The 
 responses were made from the north-east corner behind a 
 screen. T conceive by a sisterhood. Mr. Daviney said by the 
 quire. I doubt it, as the voices were certainly women's. He 
 said the processions were of women, a priest carrying the Host. 
 
 11//;. — Saw the college communal, a school for boys from 8 to 
 15, with choice of profession, about 12.5 ; then petit seminaire, 
 where were about 330 : 3 courses, Humanity, Philosophy, 
 Theology. Here the choice is made. They study a certain 
 number of years in humanity, in philosophy, in theology ; 
 and then go to the Grand Seminaire. This was much like 
 St. Sulpice (at Paris), but the rooms better furnished, with 
 more of personal comfort. St. Sulpice has a severer character. 
 Bare walls, a bed, a table, chair, bookcase, and crucifix. 
 Good library, and a most brotherly and intelligent priest who 
 showed it to us. Then the Freres de la Mis^ricorde instituted 
 by M. Scheppers. He was ordained 16 years ago, at the 
 age of 30. In 1839 he began to attend the prisons with
 
 350 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 three subjects. They are now 60. The old prison system 
 by Gardism — old soldiers and by force ; now it is wholly by 
 religion, and blessed with great success. He showed us the 
 house, refectory, kitchen, chapel, sacristy, cloisters, and school. 
 He was an open, clear, sincere, kindly, energetic man, xpvyorbs, 
 but did not impress me with a feeling of height or depth. But 
 there was about him the balance and peace of a man who had 
 found his place and calling in God's kingdom for life, and was 
 moving onward without distraction. This appears to me to be 
 one of the fruits of the objective Church system of dogmatic 
 theology, the celibacy of the priesthood, and the monastic life. 
 
 The brothers all laymen. They take the three vows. Their 
 noviciate is in all about 3 or 4 years. In the refectory is a tall 
 panel having an Or do, showing what brothers are out, and where. 
 Also another for the novices. He showed us the relics under 
 the altar ; and also others in the sacristy. 
 
 I could not but feel that the effect of such objects is to 
 awaken and keep alive a high standard of personal devotion, A 
 theory at least which we have not. Also the whole objective 
 worship gives a reality we have nothing to equal. 
 
 1 '2th. — The priest at the grand sdminaire told me that in the 
 diocese of Malines there are 1500 priests, and that the arch- 
 bishop meets them all in retreat once in 3 or 4 years at various 
 places — the seminaire in Malines and other places in the diocese. 
 
 The population of Belgium is about 4,000,000 ; and of 
 Brussels about 200,000. 
 
 13^/i. — M. Bougueaux showed us the chapel and convent of the 
 Visitation ; Sons, the superieure, had been 37 years in the Order 
 at Annecy in Savoy, Nice, Paris, and Brussels. They have 
 only 7 sisters here, and lay sisters. Then to the Dames de 
 Marie, who have 15 sisters, and conduct the education of 600 
 girls (100 paying) in schooling, lace-making, and like work. 
 In the chapel were 4 or 5 sisters. They have about 600 in all ; 
 a house in London with 4 or 5 sisters ; a house at Falmouth, 
 Oregon, America. The Eedemptorists have only 6 fathers, and 
 are at work sometimes from I past 5 A.M. to 12 in the con- 
 fessional. There are 22 religious houses in Brussels, and more 
 nuns than before the French Revolution. I could not but be 
 struck by the calm happy look of every one I saw. They 
 seemed at rest, as if they had said : 
 
 " Tliis shall be my rest for ever." 
 
 There are in Belgium 6 dioceses, Malines (Archbishopric) 
 including Brussels and Antwerp, Gand, Bruges, Liege, Namur, 
 and Tournay.
 
 XVII A SPIRITUAL RETREAT IN CATHOLIC COUNTRIES 351 
 
 nth. — To Louvain with M. Bougueaux. Population, 30,000 ; 
 7 parishes iuchiding religions houses and their chaplains. 
 Li^ge, 75,000. Diocese, 600,000. Parishes small, 300 or 400 ; 
 some 2, 4, and 8 thousand, but few. This from the grand 
 yicaire. 
 
 M. Bougueaux said the Catholics did not make, but only 
 profited by, the Revolution of 1830. There were only two 
 bishops from the battle of Waterloo — Malines and Ghent. 
 King William for 5 years forbade the great seminary to receive 
 any more students. He wished to make Pope Adrian's College 
 a philosophical system — liberal. The students there, although 
 called reverend, were never ordained, as being unfit. 
 
 King William's professors are liberals — infidels. The Uni- 
 versity is supported by the town and the Church. Yearly 
 collections in all the churches are imposed on the clergJ^ The 
 bishops send their best men for 2, 3, and 4 years from their 
 seminaries. 
 
 Heard a disputation for degree of Doctor, and on appeals to 
 the Pope, in Latin. The University has very little property ; 
 the State will not create corporations nor suffer mortmain. 
 In ten years M. Bougueaux hopes they may be able. The 
 library, a fine one, belongs to the town. Students 600 ; 
 several colleges ; one theological, others for law and medicine. 
 Bellarmine preached in Latin at St. Peter's.^ 
 
 IQth. Went to Antwerp. At the cathedral, the chapel of 
 the Holy Heart. 
 
 In the Diary a blank space is left here evidently in the 
 view of recording later on the impressions made on the 
 writer by Antwerp, perhaps the most Catholic city in Bel- 
 gium, certainly the most interesting and the most artistic. 
 Archdeacon Manning at that period was evidently not 
 familiar with Catholic terminology as used in England. 
 For instance, he translates the French Sacrd Cceur by Holy 
 Heart ; and uses the French word Salut, instead of speaking 
 as English Catholics do of the Sacred Heart and of the 
 Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament. After coming into 
 personal contact with English Catholic ecclesiastics at 
 
 1 This entry, which has no connection with the subject recorded in the 
 Diary, appears to be the result of a mental note, the record of one of the obiter 
 dicta heard in the course of conversation with his Belgian friends. It illus- 
 trates one of Cardinal Manning's most characteristic habits of mind, the 
 power of gathering up and assimilating knowledge — the secret of a well- 
 stored mind.
 
 352 CARDINAL jMANNING chap. 
 
 Eome, he adopts in his Diary, as \rill be observed later on, 
 Catholic phraseology. 
 
 But to resume the extracts from the Diary : — 
 
 17//'. — In the afternoon to Liege, a town lying in a valley "nath 
 hills to the N.W. and S., many open places. 
 
 On the margin is a pen-and-ink sketch of the town. 
 The Diary is illustrated by frequent sketches of monuments 
 of interest, ruins of churches and chapels and colleges, 
 especially during his prolonged study of Eome. 
 
 Palace of the prince bishop is fine. Inside a cloister or 
 peristyle like Doge's Palace at Venice and the streets of 
 Bologna. St. Martin's on a high and fine site. 
 
 The Feast of Corpus Christi first kept in that Church by 
 the canons. Liege alone has with Rome the privilege of per- 
 petual Exposition, four days in each church. The parish priests 
 give tickets to the devout, assigning the number and succession 
 of hours for the perpetual adoration. The night-hours are kept 
 in their houses, the day-hours in their church (The 40 Hours). 
 Went to St. Catherine where a Jesuit preached to the Society 
 de la bonne Mart: church full. In the evening to the Grande 
 Seminaire to see Dr. Kein. 
 
 The seminary, an old convent of the Augustinians. Their 
 books still there. A good church in the Palladian style. The 
 low large lamps of brass burning before the high altar very 
 solemn. He said he bought them in 1835 for sixty francs. I 
 cannot but feel that the practice of Elevation, Exposition, 
 Adoration of the Blessed Eucharist has a powerful effect in 
 sustaining and realising the doctrine of the Incarnation. 
 
 19th. — To Aix-la-Chapelle through a beautiful country — a 
 mixture of North Wales, the South Downs, Stroud, and Dove 
 Dale. Aix, a German Basle. First Vespers of St. ]\Iargaret. 
 A long funeral procession. The streets were dressed with 
 streamers from the windows. In one church orange trees 
 within the sanctuary. In another a large congregation at the 
 Salut. 
 
 I observed — 
 
 1. The great number of men, and some young. 
 
 2. The deep devotion. They responded as one voice, were 
 vividly penetrated by an idea and a spirit. 
 
 3. The use of the rosary by many men well dressed, and by 
 some poor men, with great devotion. One man with a lame left 
 arm — like Simpson in face.
 
 XVII A SPIRITUAL RETREAT IN CATPIOLIC COUNTRIES 353 
 
 4. The lifting of the hands, the little (3) acolytes before 
 the altar. 
 
 5. The parents crossing their children with holy water. 
 The children crossing themselves. 
 
 6. The devout kneeling down on the marble pavement, coming 
 in and out. 
 
 The whole very impressive, implying a deep hold on the 
 conscience and the will. 
 
 It seemed strange that here on the moral site of the Western 
 Empire and the Mediaeval Europe, there should be still an energy 
 beyond anything I have seen elsewhere. Is there not a moral 
 reason to explain this 1 
 
 20fh. — At Aix. The Cathedral, a Temple church built by 
 Charlemagne, destroyed and rebuilt by Otto on the same site, in 
 980 A.D. It consists of one octagon nave ; a quire of the date 
 of Westminster Abbey. There is a very old square tower at 
 the west end ; north-west a chapel of the Decorated time ; south- 
 west a chapel of the debased Italian. 
 
 (Here follows a ground-plan of Aachen Cathedral in pen and 
 ink.) 
 
 In the middle of the nave a plain slab with Carolo Magno. 
 His stone chair on six marble steps is up in the triforiura. I 
 could not help feeling as if I stood over the spring of a great 
 power which had still hold upon us. It is the fountain of modern 
 Europe — of the Mediaeval Church and Empire ; of the temporal 
 element of our national, legal, and Christian civilisation. 
 
 The passages which I have given from the Diary are of 
 interest and importance as recording Archdeacon Manning's 
 first visit to Catholic Belgium ; his first contact with 
 Catholic life and Catholic worship, not so much, if at all, 
 on account of the facts of more or less interest put on record, 
 as because the daily chronicle reveals, simply and naturally, 
 and with no foregone conclusion, the state of mind of the 
 Anglican divine, when brought for the first time face to 
 face with the living Catholic Church, as seen in its actual 
 working, spiritual, religious, and social. For such a pur- 
 pose Catholic Belgiiim was a good field for observation. 
 Archdeacon Manning showed himself, as his twelve days' 
 research among Catholic institutions, social and religious, 
 proves, a clearsighted and candid observer of men and 
 things. He was more ; for the reflections, sparse as they 
 naturally are in such a homely chronicle, show that his 
 
 VOL. I 2 A
 
 354 CARDINAL MANNING chap, xvii 
 
 mind was going down to the roots of things, to the differences, 
 fundamental in their character, between the Catholic Church, 
 in practice as well as in theory, and the Church of his 
 birth and baptism. Archdeacon Manning was acquainted, 
 indeed, with the Primitive Church, the Church of the 
 ancient Fathers ; but in reality knew little or nothing of 
 the Church of Eome, that, practically to him, invisible 
 Church, with which he as an Anglican claimed kinship. 
 The Church of Eome, as made known to him in its actual 
 life and working, came to him in some sort as a new 
 revelation. To judge at least from some reflections in the 
 Diary, the effect produced by the dogmatic teaching and 
 the objective system of Catholic worship was not altogether 
 favourable to the conduct and claims of the Anglican 
 Church. Be that, however, as it may, it is e\ddent that 
 Archdeacon Manning did not consider himself an enemy 
 in a hostile camp. He presented himself as a truce-bearer 
 to the Church which did not recognise him as one of her 
 sons. He was received by the priests and monks of 
 Belgium as a friend among friends. Every church was 
 open to him ; at every monastery he was a welcome guest. 
 From him no information was withheld. The secrets of 
 the prison-house, which Mr. Newdegate — at that day 
 almost an unquestioned authority in the Protestant world on 
 convents — used to denounce in and out of Parliament, were 
 not revealed to him, because there were none to reveal. 
 
 Archdeacon Manning made the most of his Belgian 
 friends and of his opportunities ; as he did when he reached 
 Italy and made himself at home with Italian priests and 
 monks. No Anglican divine of name and note, as far as 
 I know, was ever on such intimate terms with Catholic 
 priests and monks — not in England, indeed, but abroad — 
 as Archdeacon Manning during liis twelvemonth's sojourn 
 in Catholic lands. In this spiritual retreat, God laid deep 
 in the heart of His elect the foundations of his future faith.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 ARCHDEACON MANNING ON HIS WAY TO ROME 
 
 On leaving Belgium, 20th July 1847, Archdeacon Manning, 
 on his way to Rome, went through Germany and Switzerland. 
 In his Diary interesting accounts are given of his journey. 
 A few extracts, to keep up the continuity, and to show the 
 outlines of his journey, will, however, suffice : — 
 
 20th July 1847. — From Aix to Cologne and Bonn. Stayed 
 at Bonn. The cathedral of our Norman ; a tower at the inter- 
 section, and another at the east. Apsidal ends. Crypt 
 under choir. 
 
 21st. — To Coblenz by water. Went to see the monu- 
 ment which Air. Papworth drew for my dearest father in 1828. 
 This place recalls him vividly to me. 
 
 To-day by steamer to Biberich, and thence to Frankfort. 
 My last visit is full in my mind. We were at the Hotel 
 d'Angleterre. Sister and brother were here. I remember 
 standing on the stone balcony over the door, and all the vanity 
 of the time. Also I remember the cathedral and the walls 
 round the town, the bridge and the quais. It is just nineteen 
 years ago. I was then travelling for health, the asthma having 
 just appeared. What have these nineteen years not compre- 
 hended ? 
 
 Frankfort, 2Srcl. — This morning went into a church. . . . 
 It was like the Italian churches. The altars plain, but seemly. 
 The lamp before the high altar burnt red. The contrast of 
 stillness, sanctity, prayer, and the cross, with the stir, chafing, 
 and eagerness of the busy streets, was most striking. (This 
 at Frankfort.) 
 
 Hornhurg. — This place seems wholly stripped of outward 
 Christianity. I walked over the greatest part of it, and could 
 neither find nor see a church. From the terrace of the Palace I
 
 356 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 saw a spire some way off, and this afternoon I walked there. 
 The village is called Gerzdorf. I called on the priest. He said 
 that in Homburg there are about 200 Catholics, the population 
 being near 5000. In his village he has about 1000. He says 
 Mass every Sunday at Homburg, at Gerzdorf every day, and 
 Vespers at 1.30, On Sunday there is catechising for the chil- 
 dren. I asked if there Avas to be any Salut. He said "No." 
 I asked whether, being the eve of St. James,^ there would be no 
 office ; he said " No." I went into the church and was left 
 alone, which was very still and grateful, but was soon disturbed. 
 A bustling boy, with much noise and no sign of realising where 
 he was, went in and out through the sanctuary and prepared the 
 side altar and credence. He then began to ring the bells. I did 
 not know what would follow, and went away.^ 
 
 The church was plain, clean, and sufficient. (Here follows a 
 ground-plan in pen and ink.) It was high, and the altar with 
 the crucifix drew all one's thoughts from the veil of the building. 
 I saw three or four crucifixes by the roadside in the parish ; 
 none in Homburg. The place seems to be out of Christendom. 
 
 dth August. — To-day walked to the Jews' Burial Ground near 
 Eidberg. It was on the skirts of a wood, very lonely in the 
 open lands ; rough, ill-tended, with the graves broken, sunken, 
 and deformed. The stones had Hebrew inscriptions, some very 
 old. It was a picture of the race, lonely, separate, and in ruin. 
 It contrasted mournfully with the fair and fruitful fields which 
 lay round it, with their orchards and tillage, as Israel in the 
 midst of Christendom. 
 
 19/A August. — To Frankfort. Afternoon went to the Einhorn 
 Apotlieh. As I stood there, the shop, the bottles, and the gold 
 paper all came back upon me as nineteen years ago. There I 
 was a second time buying ether to relieve asthma. 
 
 Walked down at night to the bridge, and saw the pier, which 
 they were repairing when I was last there. 
 
 2Si/t August. — To Mayence. Dodsworth came. 
 
 Basle, bill September. — Went to the church near the post office. 
 Fairly full ; singing good. Then sermon ; no marks of great 
 attention. Then cathedral not so full ; many hats on. The 
 effect of Protestant worship is dreary ; want of object, aim, 
 intelligibleness ; cold, dark, abstract. 
 
 ^ The eve of St. James was the anniversary of the death of Archdeacon 
 Manning's wife. 
 
 '■^ Had Archdeacon Manning, in spite of the "bustling boy," possessed his 
 soul in patience, he might have witnessed in this rude German village the 
 service which so captivated his heart in the churches of Belgium. The 
 simple German priest, no doubt, had no idea what was meant by the Salut.
 
 XVIII ARCHDEACON MANNING ON HIS WAY TO ROME 357 
 
 Then Avent on the river to Little Basle. The E.G. Church ; 
 a queue of people at each door, and a knot against the wall 
 opposite; hats off; crossing, joining in worship. Went in; 
 thronged aisles, passages and all, with looks — visible — and 
 great attention,^ Cathedral choir round to the ambulatory, 
 like Gloucester. (Here follows pen-and-ink sketch.) 
 
 Lucerne, 7th September. — The opposite coast, a long low land 
 rising to a gentle ridge, clothed with trees and verdure, houses 
 and villages to the water's edge. Behind it the Rigi ; sharp- 
 pointed, irregular ; the lower ranges covered with rich green ; 
 the upper wild, barren, and bare. The sunset lit up the shore 
 with a sort of glaring, homely, cheerful light. The mountain 
 seemed to burn with a red heat. 
 
 The whole, with all its outlines and tints, and lights and 
 shadows, lay upon the lake. As the sun went down the lights 
 went upwards, leaving range after range in a dark cold green or 
 a black misty gray. 
 
 ^th September. — I was very ill, and turned homeward. 
 
 Lucerne, 15th September. — Started at 7.30 by diligence to 
 Basle; got in at 8 P.M. 16th, to Strasburg by rail; 17th, to 
 Mayence by steamboat; 18th, to Cologne by steamboat;'^ 19th, 
 rested Sunday at Cologne; 20th, Malines ; 21st, Ostend ; 227id, 
 by steamboat to Dover (seven hours) ; to London by railroad, 
 2.30 ; got in ten past 7. 
 
 TO) Gew ^apts. 
 
 Soon after his arrival in London, Archdeacon Manning 
 wrote to Eobert Wilberforce as follows : — 
 
 44 Cadogan Place, Oct. 1, 1847. 
 My dearest Robert — Many thanks for your kind words. 
 A sharp illness drove me home. I was not fit to go on, and 
 came home by steamer, to be revised by my Doctors. Thank 
 God, I am better, and am under sentence for Nice within a fort- 
 night ; Colonel Austen and my sister going Avith me. I trust I 
 am stronger than when we parted, but I must wait still before I 
 can lay aside some anxieties. How good it is to have them. I 
 trust your wife is really recovering. Give her my kindest 
 
 ^ What a sensation would not a book under the title " Contrast between 
 Catholic and Protestant Worship. By an Anglican Archdeacon," had 
 it been published by Manning, have created in that time of controversial 
 strife in England ! 
 
 2 In an autobiographical Note, Cardinal Manning, relating to this 
 journey, says, " I was so ill on board the steamer on the Rhine that passengers 
 made signs to each other as if they thought I was dying."
 
 358 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 regards and say I hope she "svill not follow my bad example — 
 unless it Avill bring you both to Nice ■with me. Send me your 
 sermons to this place, and at the same time let me have the two 
 references you promised — one in St. Optatus, and one of some 
 Pope writing to the Patriarch of Antioch. I would like to note 
 them in my MS. book, though I am doing no work, but grazing 
 like a Siberian lamb. 
 
 Nothing, I fear, will bring you to London within fourteen days. 
 I wish something may. — Ever yours very affectionately, 
 
 H. E. Manning. 
 
 Accompanied by his sister Caroline, and her husband 
 Colonel Austen, Archdeacon Manning left London, 15th 
 October, on his way to Nice. They reached Nice on the 3rd 
 of November. Archdeacon Manning's journey is recorded in 
 Ms Diary as follows : — 
 
 4^/i November. — Feast of St. Charles Borromeo.^ 
 
 6//i. — Went early to the church of St. Agostino, saw a 
 conipagnia of penitents in white, about twenty, two and two, 
 followed by a priest, all chanting. Their otfice is to defray the 
 cost of burying the poor, and to attend their funeral ; they pay 
 for the lights and all. 
 
 The Father Superior spoke of the ever-changing, never- 
 satisfying life of the world. 
 
 I asked if strifes did not sometimes arise among the brothers ; 
 he said very seldom, and they soon pass. He took me to the 
 library Avhere we looked at Eom. viii. in Corn, a Lap. I quoted 
 St. Augustine, Mutahimw in imniutahilitatem. He said he had 
 been here twenty-five years and they seemed like one. He 
 quoted St. Augustine as saying at his death — " Now, that I 
 begin to know a little, I die." 
 
 We then Avent to the refectory ; he gave me some Spanish 
 wine and water, dried figs and small cakes. Fra Felice, who 
 was with us last time, came and joined us. They told me their 
 names, and I gave my baptismal name, and told them my birth- 
 day was 15th July, St. Henry; said that family names perish 
 but Christian names will, perhaps, be laid up in heaven, and 
 asked their prayers. (F. Fidele took me to his cell) ; they then 
 took me to the Padre Guardiano, who told me that they say 
 matins at midnight till L30, then rest till five, then the offices 
 with intervals till morning. Dine at eleven, vespers at two, 
 compline and angelus, then supper at seven ; then half an hour 
 
 1 Oblates of St. Charles founded in London by Mgr. Manning nine years later.
 
 XVIII ARCHDEACON MANNING ON IIIS WAY TO ROME 359 
 
 recreation ; then they are free to read, write, and go to rest 
 at about 8.30. Five hours in the offices ; half an hour mental 
 prayer, morning and evening, in the choir. Silence always 
 except two hours, one in the morning and one in the evening. 
 They work in the garden and in outbuildings. There are six 
 here. The Misericorda for the rich wear black, red, white, blue, 
 and one I cannot remember. 
 
 7th. — "Went to Notre Dame church, benediction of SS. It was 
 full ; and round the door a crowd bareheaded and kneeling on 
 the stones which were pitching not paving. 
 
 Church of Visitation, full, with good plaintive chanting. 
 
 Church of Holy Cross. Benediction of SS. Full, and a crowd 
 on the plateau outside and below in the street ; and all down 
 the street, people kneeling on their thresholds. 
 
 There was something very beautiful and awful in the lighted 
 altar, with the incense seen from without through the open door. 
 
 A sad contrast to our Evensong, where every one, so far as I 
 saw, sat through their prayers. 
 
 Sth. — Walked with Church to the Cimella, a Franciscan con- 
 vent. The path beautiful, an ascent through gardens and olive 
 woods, saw the church, refectory cloister, gardens, cells, library, 
 and parochial burial-ground. The Father guardian, Francesco, 
 showed us over; and F. Egidio, the Lettore Teologo, showed 
 me the library. 
 
 1 1^/i. — Went with the Colonel and Caroline to the Cimella, saw 
 P. Francesco, and Egidio ; was not so well pleased. There 
 was too much effort to please in the former, and the latter 
 looked consciously upon it. But a third whose name I did 
 not hear seemed to me grave. He told me that there is a 
 brother of eighty-five who has been in the convent since he was 
 eighteen ; that he is troubled by scruples, and is heard in his 
 cell lamenting ; that he says mass every day, sometimes in 
 twenty -five minutes, sometimes in an hour and a half ; that 
 when he comes to the words of consecration he is afraid of 
 going on. 
 
 The Cimella is a convent of Recollects of the strict obser- 
 vance. 
 
 The convent and garden not well kept, but the church good. 
 
 36 brothers, 14 priests, 1 lay brother. 
 
 12th. — Went to St. Bartholemy, a Franciscan convent of 
 Capuchins, a reform stricter than the other. It contained 15 
 brothers, 11 priests, 1 lay brother. 
 
 My impression is that the Cimella suffers from visitors more 
 than St. Bartholemy. But it must be bad for both to be near 
 such a place as Nice.
 
 360 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 IQth. — I have just been again to the Capuchin convent. I got 
 there at three, but being hot I walked in the garden with Fra 
 Fidele till I got cool. Round the cloister are prints of saints 
 and martyrs of the order. He told me they had missionaries in 
 India, Syria, China, and Greece ; that meat is allowed by the 
 Rule, except in the three Lents and on Friday and special fasts ; 
 on Wednesday also some abstain, but it is not ordered. We 
 walked down and looked at the gold fish, talked of the 
 necessity of a vocation in the monastic life ; of the mysterious 
 law of the lower animals preying on each other ; the penalty of 
 death and the sufferings of the poor of the parish. He gave me 
 a rosary made in the convent. When I came down F. Fidele and 
 F. Felice met me and commended themselves to my recollection 
 (in prayer), and I asked theirs. I then bade farewell to the F. 
 guardian, and F. Felice. F. Fidele took me into the garden 
 and gave me some odoriferous herbs ; and as we parted, I said, 
 it was an instruction and a prayer to live and die in odore 
 sanditatis. 
 
 My chief regret is that I remember more what I said than 
 what they said ; and that my small command of language 
 prevented my inquiring of them, as I would fain have done, of 
 many things. On the whole my impression is that they are 
 sincere, simple, religious men. There was the gentleness and 
 refinement of religion about them, with the intelligence and 
 command of manner and speech which belongs to men who have 
 made their choice and lived it. 
 
 F. Fidele told me that their bread is not given by weight, 
 but the meat is. He did not know what measure. They eat 
 what is put before them, and may ask no more, except of bread, 
 water, and salt. 
 
 Momlay, 22nd November. — Left Nice 7 a.m. by post, went by 
 Corniche Road to Oneglia. At S. Stefano was sunset : glowing, 
 golden, soft-blue sea ; church solitary by the shore, a chime of 
 five bells ringing Avith clear musical peal in a light, quick time. 
 In a garden by the sea a little girl of eight dancing to the 
 chimes all alone. Oneglia got about six. St. Cecilia's Day. 
 Benediction with singing at the church ; great chorus of voices. 
 
 2^rd November. — Got up at 4. Bright moonlight and streets 
 silent and still. Went out on the seashore, and into the church. 
 Priest at the high altar saying mass ; 2 lights, the church all 
 dark. 
 
 Passed Voragine, where Giacomo de L. was born. A beautiful 
 maritime town lying along the shore, overhung by mountains, 
 and in the depth of a bay passed also the birthplace of Columbus 
 and of Julius IL The lights on the sea were beautiful ; the
 
 XVIII ARCHDEACON MANNING ON HIS WAY TO ROME 361 
 
 setting sun making the surf crimson and purple. Above Genoa 
 the bkie loam of the snow mountains, and above the rose colour 
 and then the silver of the moon chafing upon the water. Then 
 the harbour-lamp of Genoa revolving, intense brightness and 
 perfect darkness, and the tiny light of a little boat in mid-sea. 
 
 24:th. — Genoa is the most interesting of all maritime towns. 
 The most commercial in Italy ; it is also the most devout. Its 
 churches overawe its palaces. Its priests, monks, and religious 
 are as busy and abroad as its soldiers and merchants ; and its 
 bells, as at this moment of Ave Maria, drown the din of the streets 
 and of the world. In parts, as in the Strada Nuova, it is a 
 double line of palaces, in size and splendour beyond any except a 
 few in Italy. The sun, which was shining down full into the 
 port blazing upon everything, has just gone down ; and between 
 me and the horizon there is a black forest of masts and rigging 
 of every nation under heaven. 
 
 The cardinal archbishop died yesterday morning at the age 
 of 85. 
 
 25th. — The cardinal, after lying in state for three days in his 
 palace, was carried to the cathedral. The bands of five regiments 
 with officers and some companies of the men, went before a long 
 procession of penitents in black, the Misericorda,^ and priests 
 bearing each a light. The bier and pall was of cloth of gold 
 with the mitre at one end. It was carried into the cathedral 
 and raised upon a high catafalco. 
 
 The Lancers had on the front of their helmets a cross which 
 looked like the champions of Christendom. (Here follows a 
 pencil sketch of helmet and cross.) 
 
 At 5 P.M. went on board Verglio, and at 7 started ; night 
 beautiful, calm as a lake ; wind low and soft, and all the stars 
 out. Moon rose waning but cloudless. 
 
 An Italian told me that he believed infidelity and immorality 
 to exist widely in Rome, adding the old accusation against the 
 cardinals, and said, there was a proverb in Italy, Boma santa, 
 populo cornuto. 
 
 26th. — At Leghorn. At night again and softer than before, 
 tranquil, still and beautiful. 
 
 27th. — A Capuchin told me that he was on his way to the Pro- 
 paganda, being one of their missionaries, and that he was ordered 
 to China. Jesuit missionaries were going, but the Pope had 
 changed them for Capuchins. 
 
 Beautiful passage ; reached Civit^ Vecchia at ^ past 7 ; at :^ 
 to 1 2 started for Rome ; and got in at ^ past 7. 
 
 ^ A confraternity whose office it is to attend the dying, prepare the funerals 
 of the poor, and follow the dead to the grave.
 
 CHAPTEE XIX 
 
 ARCHDEACON MANNING IN ROME 
 28th November 1847 to llth May 1848. 
 
 On reaching Eome, Archdeacon Manning met the Eight 
 Hon. Sidney Herbert and his wife, recently married ; and 
 renewed intimacy with him which was soon extended to 
 Mrs. Herbert. They both placed themselves under Arch- 
 deacon Manning's spiritual direction. He was, also, on 
 friendly terms with Miss Florence Nightingale, the Trenches, 
 and the Eev. John Sterling, well known as a Eationalistic 
 writer, and the founder of the Eclectic Club in London. 
 In company with Mr. and Mrs. Herbert, Manning attended, 
 but very occasionally, the English Protestant Church outside 
 the walls. 
 
 Archdeacon Manning's Diary gives a graphic account of 
 what was passing in Eome in the eventful year of 1848, 
 and, what is still more interesting, recounts his personal 
 impressions, not only of the revolutionary movement, but of 
 the worship, devotions, and the spiritual life and teaching 
 of the Church in the city of the Popes. The first entry on 
 the Diary records his arrival in Eome, and then goes on as 
 follows : — 
 
 First Sunday in Advent, 28th November. — Eome. Scirocco and 
 rain, thermometer in east room, 58". 
 
 29ih. — Scirocco and rain, but not kept at home either day. 
 Close and warm. Th. 58°. 
 
 On Monday night S. Broechi told me that the Pope, when 
 young, intended to go into the Austrian army. Then became a 
 cadet under Napoleon. Then was made one of the Guardia
 
 CHAP. XIX ARCHDEACON MANNING IN ROME 363 
 
 Nobile by Pius VII. But having A'ertigo could not ride. Pius 
 VII. said, " 3Iio caro Mastai, you have not a soldier's face but a 
 priest's." Mastai said he would do whatever the Pope advised. 
 He studied and was ordained. He then became head of a 
 school for 70 poor boys, who in the day went out to their 
 trades and at night came home and were instructed. Then he 
 went as missionary to Chili. War breaking out, the missionaries 
 came home. He then became head of San Michele, an institu- 
 tion for orphans and education. Then he became canon and 
 monsignore, then bishop. After he left Rome he was forgotten 
 except by a few. He lived in his bishopric taking no part in 
 politics, living a pastoral life. 
 
 S. Broechi said he was rather good, benevolent, and sincere, 
 than intellectual and learned. Said Chigi was nothing great 
 and inclined to the Opposition. Cardinal Feretti good and 
 religious, impulsive rather than statesmanlike. When Bishop 
 of Forli in 1831, during the jubilee disturbances, he took his 
 pastoral staff and went amongst the people. 
 
 3rd December. — Went over the Propaganda with St. John.^ It 
 is governed by five superiors: — (1) Father rector; (2) Father 
 minister ; (3 and 4) Two spiritual Fathers ; (5) A procurator. 
 
 The spiritual Fathers are exclusively spiritual directors and 
 have no part in managing the college. 
 
 The students are divided into eight camerate. The 1st, 2nd, 
 3rd (highest), are of theology ; the rest philosophy, languages, 
 etc. The age is not fixed ; in the 8th are boys of 8-9 or 11-12. 
 The three first camerate have separate rooms ; the 5 lower 
 cameroni or dormitories. There are about 110 of 32 different 
 nations. 
 
 The professors who teach are chiefly ab extra and have no 
 government. In the museum are some pieces of glass said to 
 be parts of burial urns of the 2nd and 3rd century ; they are 
 enamelled with gold. One of the emblems was the B. V. with 
 SS. Peter and Paul on each side. Her hands lifted in prayer 
 to show, as one of the bishops said to the heathen, that she is a 
 creature. 
 
 Went with St. John to Santa Croce. A fine spacious con- 
 vent, very clean and well kept, with beautiful views upon the 
 Alban Hills from Albano to Tivoli, Frascati Fell in the middle ; 
 the Campagna stretching right and left, and the Aqueduct 
 running from the S.E. side of the convent as far as the eye 
 can reach. Saw Newman in his chamber, which looks on this 
 
 ^ Alterwards Father Ambrose St. John of the Oratory, Birmingham, a most 
 intimate friend of Father, afterwards Cardinal, Newman.
 
 364 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 view. St. John's looked on St. John Lateran. It is Cistercian, 
 and there are about 15 brethren. 
 
 St. John told me that the students of the bishopric have a 
 privilege to pass one examination only for the three major orders 
 instead of three ; one at each. 
 
 One treatise is required for subdeacon ; two for deacon ; 
 three for priest. A treatise is a subject, not a special book. 
 The examination is in Latin and lasted about f of an hour. 
 
 N. and St. J. were about 7 months at the Propaganda ; and 
 since they have been reading alone. 
 
 N. told me coming home ^ that there is a priest in Rome 
 named Paleotti, known for his sanctity, confessor to many of the 
 chief people, cardinals, etc., and that he had a sort of community 
 which attends S. Spirito. 
 
 5//i December. — Scirocco. Mild, very warm, rain at night. 
 Sidney Herbert told me on Sunday that he had met P. Carrino, 
 Azeglio, and others. Azeglio was moderate, the others all look- 
 ing onward to great changes. Azeglio said he had a brother a 
 Jesuit, a devoted and devout one, who is now in a state of 
 painful doubt as to the whole Jesuit politic. One said to 
 Herbert their reform is all well, but there remains the great 
 enemy. He asked what. He said, " the theology." Minghetti 
 said that there is a tax of 300 crowns to collect, while 900 were 
 spent in paper and pens, and 3000 in salaries. 
 
 Broechi told me that the Jesuits are able and excellent in 
 their duties as priests, but that their politics are most mis- 
 chievous ; that if a collision should come with the people the 
 effect would be terrible ; that they stick to the aristocracy, e.g. 
 to the Dorias, the Princess being a Frenchwoman ; that no 
 day passes but they are there. The people ^ call them Oscuri, 
 Oscurantidi. 
 
 He said that a reform of their rule was looked for. An 
 inquiry being already issued ; that the Orders are relaxed 
 and idle ; but as to morals, he thought there was not much to 
 be charged upon them ; that the eyes of the seculars are too 
 vigilant ; that if a Frate is seen to go to a private house it 
 is a matter of observation. 
 
 Sidney Herbert also told me that Mr. Petrc holds the Pope 
 somewhat cheaply, as a good man, but with fancies, and fearful. 
 He (Petre) thinks that the Pope had no policy : that his act of 
 amnesty was his spontaneous goodness ; that the Liberals of 
 Italy, wanting a prince, jumped at him, and wrote him up ; that 
 
 ^ Newman left Rome in December 1847. 
 
 ^ "The people" in Archdeacon Manning's mouth means the revolutionary 
 party represented hy his friends in the Circolo Romano.
 
 XIX ARCHDEACON MANNING IN ROME 365 
 
 they sketched an outh'ne of himself which he has been straining 
 to fill up. He also thinks the retrograde party very strong, the 
 old clergy and their folks. 
 
 Lord Minto does not. 
 
 Mr. Petre, I think, is right. 
 
 8th December. — Went to Capella Papale in the Quirinal. Pope ; 
 27 cardinals, — Larabruschini, Franzoni, Mai, Tosti, Feretti. Mass 
 sung by cardinal priest. It Avas a splendid sight. The Pope 
 in white and gold, and gold mitre, on a throne of white and 
 gold. The cardinal priest a bishop in white and gold over 
 red rochet, silver mitre ; deacons in white and gold, singers 
 in purple with lace and fur. Attendants in scarlet and 
 fur. Cardinals in scarlet and white fur. One, the general 
 of the Camaldolese, in white with red zucchetto ; another in 
 pale violet. Each one attired in deep violet robes. There 
 were monks in all habits. One Oriental bishop, I think, 
 in purple with gold clasp. Priests, officers, and guards. The 
 antechamber full of cardinals' servants in state liveries ; the 
 courtyard of carriages with gold and scarlet. 
 
 In the afternoon procession from Ara Coeli by the Gesu and 
 Piazza di Venezia, up the west side of the Capitol. Soldiers, 
 then three acolytes, staves and lights ; a picture of the B. V. ; 
 a cross ; then a crucifix under a canopy ; then singers and 
 priests ; then 200 or 300 monks ; the image and canopy of the 
 B. V. ; then soldiers. 
 
 1 2th December. — Cold in night, but afterwards soft and warm. 
 S. Broechi told me yesterday that Gragrozi was a man much 
 beloved ; had some office in the Propaganda, was professor 
 of philosophy, and of theology at the Collegio Eomano. 
 The Pope Pius IX. was his pupil in theology ; Broechi also and 
 his confessor said that Gragrozi was greatly loved by young 
 men, and confessor to multitudes ; that once on the Saturday 
 or Sunday in Holy Week, he was hearing confessions at night 
 late, and he looked up and saw 50 or 60 waiting, was fairly 
 alarmed, could not get done in time to save their Easter. Came 
 out and asked : Are you penitent ? They said. Yes. Are you 
 resolved to confess ? Yes. . . . He absolved them all at once, 
 and was suspended from hearing confessions for a time. Said that 
 Abbate Paleotti is a saint ; a founder of regular clerks ; that 
 he spends his life serving the sick and in hearing confessions. Is 
 the Pope's confessor. He also mentioned a F. Bernardo who came 
 from Turin (and is much at the court there) with four of his re- 
 ligious, and brought to the Pope a present of chestnuts. The Pope 
 smiled. He also mentioned Mamiani, who wrote a j^lay against 
 the Pope's temporal power, and was obliged to get out of the way.
 
 366 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 He is come back, and was received by the Pope, who asked 
 him whether, if Government were good, he should care whether 
 the Government were ecclesiastical or lay. He said No. 
 
 Last week the people, about 2000 or 3000, went with a band 
 and flags to congratulate the Swiss Ambassador on the expulsion 
 of the Jesuits. 
 
 AVhen a man printed a paper complaining that they were 
 rejoicing over the fall of Fribourg, Lucerne, and the Catholics, 
 they began to sack his house. 
 
 So much for Jesuits in Rome. 
 
 Sidney Herbert says that P. Carrino and others speak of 
 P. Ventura as a man of their sense. 
 
 S. Francisco a Ripa. 
 
 The chamber of St, Francis, now a chapel. It is upstairs, 
 about 1 feet by 1 4. There remains only a stone, which is said to 
 have been his pillow. An altar has above it a picture of St. 
 Francis, taken while he was in prayer, through a small sight. It 
 is a standing figure. There remains also a part of his cord and 
 hair shirt. 
 
 In a sacristy above are kept the vestments of all the venerabili. 
 
 There are 140 FF. in the convent. They make the stuff for 
 the habits in the Roman province. Coming home, I stopped at 
 the church of Abbate Paleotti. His congregation is called 
 Apostolatus CathoUcus sub protectione Sandae Mariae Reginae Apo- 
 stoloruni. There are 17 or 18 members. A branch in 
 London. 
 
 24:th December. — Went to the Armenian Church, Strada 
 Giulia. The altar was in an apse, and the apse raised. The 
 front had two columns ; before the altar was a curtain, about 1 2 
 to 15 lights, so that the curtain was nearly transparent; before 
 the apse stood 6 or 7 priests on each side of the curtain. The 
 chanting was going on within, a mournful tone, with a low note 
 — diapason. 
 
 The curtain was then withdrawn, and the celebrant elevated 
 the host and presented it to the people and to the two sides. 
 The curtain was then drawn again, and a large curtain drawn 
 before the whole apse. 
 
 25th December. — Morning fine. Went to St. Peter's to the 
 Christmas mass. Stayed till after the elevation. Rain in after- 
 noon. 
 
 Went to S. Gregorio ; saw his chamber ; now crusted with 
 marbles. The place of his bed marked off with marbles. His 
 chair of marble (white). 
 
 Names of English bishops on the pillar of the cloister. Re- 
 fectory.
 
 XIX ARCHDEACON MANNING IN ROME 367 
 
 Broechi told me last night that the Sant' Uffizio seldom acts 
 except to enforce the ecclesiastical law ; as our consistories, e.g. 
 criminal clerks ; or irregular, as for saying two masses, or break- 
 ing fast. A physician was imprisoned some time ago for im- 
 morality and infidelity. By dying beds he used to deride 
 religion and the crucifix. 
 
 Two admonitions are given before proceedings. No inquisi- 
 tion but on delation. 
 
 Broechi told me to-day that the Passionists fast two days a 
 week and abstain one. They eat meat only Sunday, Monday, 
 Tuesday, and Thursday, go barefoot, wear woollen, which is very 
 hot in summer ; get up at night to recite the Breviary. They 
 were instituted by St. Paul of the Cross for the conversion of 
 sinners in the Campagna, and are chiefly replenished from the 
 lower orders, who are used to such austerities. 
 
 29i!A. — Went to the English college with Herbert. St. 
 Thomas a Becket's Day. 
 
 Archdeacon Manning and Padre Ventura 
 
 11^^ January. — F. Marchette. 
 
 Went with him to Padre Ventura ; a very frank, open, 
 doAvnright, masculine face and man. 
 
 He said that the Pope in one year had gained a position of 
 extraordinary power and capacity for good. But that in the 
 last two months he had lost f, and in another would lose the 
 other -§- of his popular power ; that he had already lost the 
 cardinals, princes, religious orders, and that there remain the 
 clergy and the people ; that the Oscurantisti are labouring 
 to divide the people from the clergy, and both from the Pope. 
 
 I said the Oscurantisti make believe that the Progressist! are 
 without religion, and contrary to it. 
 
 He said the other party are worse. There is irreligion on 
 both sides everywhere, and especially among the Retrogradisti, of 
 whom many believe nothing. 
 
 He said he had told the Pope that he must double the 
 number of the Consulta, and give them a voice to enforce taxes ; 
 that he must make an Upper House of the Cardinals ; and these 
 points : — 
 
 1. Liberty of conscience. 
 
 2. Security of property and person. 
 
 3. Liberty of the press. 
 
 The first, by repealing the Ohligo della Pasqua. 2. The second, 
 by liberty of the press and pul^licity — ultima arma dei miserabili il 
 lamento. 3. That the third secures the second.
 
 368 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 He said the Pope was greatly alarmed, and said : " I have 
 done enough. I will do no more." 
 
 Next day the Pope told Cardinal Antonelli : " Padre Ventura 
 has been here, and drawn a terrible picture, and I have not slept 
 all night." 
 
 Ventura told me he thought Christianity in a critical 
 moment ; that he feared the liadicalismo Socialismo of Switzer- 
 land more than anything ; that they were ready to come over 
 the Alps to excite revolution in Italy ; that Naples was on the 
 brink of revolution ; that if successful it would go the length of 
 Italy ; and that the Pontifical Government would be surprised, 
 and that by the beginning of next month we might have trouble. 
 
 He said that the chief hope was in uniting the clergy, ^(no ed 
 altro (secular and regular) with each other, the people and the 
 bishops ; that this had restrained the Irish, and could alone 
 restrain the Eomans. 
 
 Padre Ventura said that Abbate Paleotti was an Oscurantiste 
 funesto, and that he did the Pope great harm ; that one day the 
 Pope told Ventura that Paleotti had been telling him of the 
 diminution of religion and of confessions, and alarmed him. 
 Ventura said he would be alarmed if he did not know that it 
 was not true ; that now hypocrites declared themselves ; and 
 Ventura added, with great energy : This is the only safe state. 
 Monchelli joined. A mousignore present said of Paleotti : 
 Santifica V Oscurantismo. 
 
 Ventura gave an account of the disturbance last July ; the 
 people went to burn a house near S. Andrea delli Fratte. 
 Morandi, the general, sent a carriage and two guards to fetch 
 Ventura ; Ventura would not go unless ordered by the general. 
 The general came and ordered him. He took his cloak and a 
 crucifix and went ; got among the people, and got them into the 
 church, where he spoke for three hours, 9 P.M. to 12. He pro- 
 mised them to go next day to the Pope and make known their 
 case ; and told them to go home. They got torches, and con- 
 ducted him home to S. Andrea delli Fratte in procession.^ 
 
 I5th. — Went with Bowles to the Chiesa Nuova ; a fine house, 
 well kppt, with more appearance of comfort than usual. 
 
 Saw the remains of St. Philip Neri, which were transferred 
 from S. Girolamo della Carita. 
 
 First, a room adorned with pictures, glass cases, gilt and 
 carved. In the first St. Philip's bed, shoes, morocco slippers, 
 
 1 The chief point in this story of Padre Ventura's seems to be his own 
 glorification in the eyes of a distinguished stranger, an archdeacon of the 
 An"licari Church.
 
 XIX ARCHDEACON MANNING IN ROME 3G9 
 
 cord of stairs to his chamber. Planks of his bed, mattress, and 
 coverlet ; two small cushions. 
 
 2nd case. An nrmoire, low. 
 
 3rd case. His confessional, rude deal planks. 
 
 4th case. His chair in which he preached in church. 
 
 5. Original })icture of Guido, the copy of which is in mosaic 
 in his chapel. 
 
 Next a chapel, 12 by 12, in which he used to say mass 
 privately, and the door with a grating and shutter. When he 
 came to the Agnus Dei the assistant went out, leaving him in 
 prayer till he rang a small bell, still seen. The frame of the 
 altar, the candlesticks, the crucifix, and a picture of the Madonna 
 were his. The crucifix is of bronze ; the figure contracted, and 
 the head hanging down. 
 
 It is a fine work, one foot long, and the cross two and a half, 
 about. 
 
 There is also his triptych in campo d'aro^ which he carried to 
 the sick. 
 
 Also fine pictures, which were his. 
 
 There was a mask taken after death. 
 
 (Pen-and-ink sketches.) 
 
 Then went to the convent of St. John and St. Paul. They 
 were Eoman citizens, martyred in their house, which was on the 
 site of the church. The place of their martyrdom was in the 
 church, and is surrounded by an iron rail. Their bodies are 
 under the altar. We then went into the Passionist Convent ; 
 well kept, very clean. The direttore, P. Gasparo, showed us 
 the library and the room and chapel of St. Paul of the Cross. 
 It is about 16 by 12, looking S.E. by S. There remain his 
 missionary crucifix, some books, clothes, staff, discipline of iron 
 plates, with a handle of leathern thong, 20 or so of them ; 
 bedding. Also a little chapel, where mass was said when he 
 was too ill to go into the church. He died at 75 or 76. There 
 was a mask taken after his death. 
 
 I asked Bowles about Father Dominic. He was a shep- 
 herd's boy in the Alban hills, used to confess to the Passionists, 
 had a desire to join them, became a novice, learned Latin, was 
 ordained priest, had a belief (intense) that he was to labour in 
 some country of the north, went to Belgium. Wiseman called 
 on his way to England at the Passionist House ; offered to take 
 him. He and some others went. The Welds gave them a 
 house near Stafford, at Aston. He received Newman. M". told 
 me this in substance, but said that his visitant expressed England. 
 Bowles, that it was a vn. (vision %) of the B. V., but that England 
 was not named. 
 
 VOL. I 2 B
 
 370 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 M"'. said that F. Dominic was under promise of marriage, 
 that he fell ill, and that his desire to be a Passionist returned. 
 He broke off his marriage, and his betrothed went, also, into a 
 religious house. 
 
 Marchetti preached at S. Claudio in continuation of his 
 sermon on the Feast of Epiphany. 
 
 The subject, "The Kingdom of Faith." 
 
 He said : To a countryman the stars are lights, to a 
 philosopher worlds ; that an ignorant man taking science on 
 trust is lifted into a higher sphere, so faith lifts us above the 
 natural to the supernatural. 
 
 Q)th. — Beautiful, no wind. 
 
 Went with Sidney Herbert over the ferry to St. Peter's ; 
 then by Longara to S^- Dorothea (Feast) ; saw the leaden coffin 
 in which her body is said to be, at the back, under the high 
 altar. 
 
 Enrolment of volunteers. 
 
 1th. — Beautiful spring day, no wind. 
 
 Went to Pamphili Doria. Coming home, went into St. 
 Grisogon ; first vespers of St. John of Matha, the founder of the 
 Trinitarians, a bishop assisting ; the others were in white, with 
 white surplices short, and two boys, acolytes. Afterwards the 
 benediction. 
 
 8^A. — Went to S. Gregorio, saw the arm in a gold and silver 
 case, and the head of his pastoral staff — ivory. Coming back, 
 found the Benediction at S. Carlo. A Franciscan Church — the 
 habits used, beautiful. 
 
 26/A. — Went to Naples ; got in at dark. Saw Vesuvius 
 with blood-red shoulders. Crocelle, Herberts. 
 
 Tth. — Civita Vecchia at half -past seven. Rome half-past 
 five. Came into this, last evening of carnival. Felt as I used 
 on getting home to Oxford. 
 
 %th. — Ash Wednesday. Raw, moist but still. 
 
 \Uh. — Went to the Gesu and Collegio Romano. On Sunday 
 morning at the Gesu, the preacher (Rossi), by S. Broechi's account, 
 said that there was a diminution of faith in all Europe, specially 
 in Italy ; that the Liberals were seeking to plant in the See of 
 Peter the Church of Mahomet ; and to open houses of Protestants ; 
 that it would be a favour of heaven to shed his blood ; that he 
 invoked martyrdom. 
 
 In the evening I went there. The sermon was all Evil 
 Merodach and Jechonias. Nothing remarkable. The next day, 
 at the eleven o'clock Lent sermon, which was to be on Tribula- 
 tions, the church was crowded — not fifty women, many civic 
 guards. The Superior de Rossi preached instead of Rossi — a
 
 XIX ARCHDEACON MANNING IN ROME 371 
 
 sermon on Faith. Nothing marked was done. But the students 
 of the Sapienza went there threatening to throw the preacher 
 out of the pulpit. 
 
 This morning I went again. The church was full, chiefly men. 
 Many civic guards, evidently come to lie on the watch. The 
 sermon was on the necessity and efficacy of prayer. When the 
 preacher spoke of the battle of Lepanto and the answers to 
 prayer in political affairs, the stillness was breathless. 
 
 In the afternoon I went to the Collegio Romano and saw 
 F. O'Ferrall. He was alarmed, and thanked me for coming at 
 such a time. He told me that they were all prepared to go ; 
 that all preparations were ready ; that the Pope had advised, 
 but would not order it, some days ago ; that the General said 
 that if the Pope would not order it, he would not take the 
 responsibility ; that they must stay at their post till ordered 
 by the Pope, or forced by the people ; that then they would go 
 to prevent bloodshed. Then came Sunday, and after that the 
 Pope received assurances of many, and of the Trasteverini, in 
 favour of the Jesuits. He then published the decree of 
 14th March ; then sent for the General,^ and Avith tears said 
 that he had been too credulous to alarm ; that he would die if 
 need be ; but that he would have them for a time continue. 
 
 This news came to the Collegio Romano at about one 
 o'clock. I was there at three. 
 
 F. O'Ferrall said that the Society perhaps used to be 
 politically inclined, because they were confessors to kings ; that 
 now they were wholly estranged from politics ; that they use no 
 political influence, either directly or indirectly, in education or 
 confession ; that the charges are pure inventions ; that as to 
 education, if they are behindhand, so are the English Univer- 
 sities ; that it is the character of all Government schools ; that 
 it is not creditable for an University to follow fast with modern 
 opinions, which are fluctuating ; that, nevertheless, they had 
 some names among the first of modern science in chemistry, 
 astronomical observation ; that in rhetoric and sacred literature 
 they supply the Universities of Italy ; that they give the 
 highest mathematical education in Italy ; that, as to politics, 
 they are spare in expressing private opinions ; that, for the most 
 part, they are favourable to modern progress ; that the English 
 and Irish Jesuits are so ; that they (E. and I.) have no sym- 
 pathy with the temporal Roman State, thinking it badly governed ; 
 that, perhaps (he would not say), the separation of spiritual 
 and civil powers might be best, as in the beginning ; that this 
 
 ^ General of the Jesuits — the Black Pope.
 
 372 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 was not an unknown opinion among them ; that Bellarmine's 
 canonisation was thought to be retarded by his denying to the 
 Pope a direct power in temporals ; that the Jesuits of EngLand 
 were inclined to be Tories ; that they take the colour of their 
 countries ; that the education of the Roman nobility is partly 
 in their hands ; that the young boys now have separate bed- 
 rooms, and are locked in at night ; that the good and the bad 
 are strongly marked ; that, perhaps, the taking away the 
 occasions of evil may hinder self-government ; that liberty and 
 responsibility are correlative. 
 
 Saw also P. Magalo, who said he had that morning said 
 mass as if for the last time. Also, P. Passaglia, who said, 
 pointing to a crucifix, Adesso un de die il crucifisso. We had 
 been speaking of his lecture on " Development." 
 
 F. O'Ferrall showed me St. Aloysius Gonzaga's room. 
 Nothing of his remains. 
 
 \5th. — This morning went to the Gesu, heard sermon on 
 " Penitence " ; then went into the house to see P. Grassi ; he 
 repeated what F. O'Ferrall had said about the Pope. 
 
 To-day the Constitution was given ; and at four I went up to 
 the Quirinal ; got under the balcony. The Corso thronged. 
 The civic guards in great numbers all round — people in middle, 
 P. Rospigli and Massimo in front. Flags and banners. A 
 Roman eagle and two banners — one Parma, the other Alta 
 Italia ; both with crape flying from the head. 
 
 The Pope gave the benediction vnth. a mixture of majesty, 
 love, and supplication I never saw. It was a sight beyond 
 words. A man near me said with emotion : " Vere i un uomo, 
 i un angelo." 
 
 Then I went to the Church, and, as the Tantum ergo was 
 sung, the band outside passed playing Pio Nono. A strange 
 clash. The world " so musical and loud " — and the Lorelei 
 of outside between the natural and supernatural. 
 
 I have heard it said that, when he was in Chili, the Pope 
 wrote down heads of reforms to be made at Rome ; and directed 
 them to be given at his death to the reigning pope. 
 
 At night I went down the Corso, which was illuminated in 
 every window and balcony ^^^th tapestry and hangings of all 
 colours, crimson, gold, white, green, yellow. The street was full 
 of the people, multitudes of women and children. Civic guards 
 by hundreds, with their helmets and plumes, and hardly a 
 carriage. The street as quiet as Lavington, except a few 
 voices hawking the Constitution, and the hum and whisper 
 of parties as they passed. I went by the Doria Palace, before 
 which had been great bonfires, and on the dying embers I saw
 
 XIX ARCHDEACON MANNING IN ROME 373 
 
 a wretched, ragged, barefooted boy warming himself. Then 
 to the Gesu which was illuminated, bright Avithout beauty or joy. 
 
 As I came back a crowd met me crying in harsh notes and 
 carrying a great torch. I saw they were going to the Gesu ; 
 they were men seldom seen by day, dirty, shaggy, squalid, 
 with a sullen malicious gait. I turned down the side street 
 and got to the Gesu, whither they never came, for the civic 
 guards stopped them in the Corso, and after a long blather 
 dispersed them. 
 
 \Qth. — Went to the Gesu and saw St. Ignatius's chambers. 
 They are entered by a Loggia, painted in fresco, looking into the 
 garden. 
 
 (Here follows, in pen and ink, ground-plan of the chambers 
 of the famous founder of the Society of Jesus.) 
 
 The chambers were four. The first where he used to sleep, 
 where he died, and the first four Generals were elected. The 
 second, his study, now a chapel ; a full life effigy with his stole. 
 The third his private chapel. Letter of St. Vincent of Paul, 
 St. Francis de Sales ; St. Charles Borromeo. The fourth which 
 his companion John Farel inhabited. There is a case of Cardinal 
 Bellarmine's things : Berrettino, red robe, stole, hair shirt, 
 missal, rosary, hat. 
 
 After this, went to Palazzo Massimo where there was a festa 
 to commemorate S. Philip Neri's raising Paolo Massimi. It 
 was in this room where the miracle was wrought ; now a chapel 
 at the top of the palace. All the way up, the stairs were strewed 
 with box-leaves which showed the way. Under the altar, which 
 stands, as I understood, where the bed was, are some remains. 
 
 After this to St. Peter's, where the people were invited by the 
 Senate who came to give thanks for the Constitution. The 
 Church and Piazza very full. The Senate came with the flags 
 of Italy, knelt for five minutes at the Chapel of St. Peter, and 
 went away. No office of any kind. 
 
 To-day news came of the Revolution at Vienna. I went into 
 the Corso and found the hangings putting out. This was my 
 first intelligence. The people to-day tore down the Austrian 
 arms from the three gates of the Palazzo di Venezia, and put up 
 in their place a Tricolor (Italian) and a banner with AUa Italia 
 without crape. They took the arms from the Palazzo Chigi and 
 from this church. They were dragged all along the Corso, beaten 
 by the people and boys with sticks near the Piazza Navona, and 
 burnt under the obelisk of the Piazza del Popolo, where I saw 
 the embers at 7 o'clock. Alas for the Cissars ! The whole 
 Corso was illumined ; and then ran the suspended moccoletti ; 
 but the joy of the moccoletti was lost in the political excitement.
 
 374 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 It was very beautiful. Looking down the Corso from the 
 Palazzo del Popolo it looks like a vast altar lighted up for the 
 Quaraiif Ore. Many coloured lamps and a sea of lights, with 
 here and there lights hanging from windows, gliding on strings, 
 fishing in the air Avith tall canes, and long flappers bunting 
 them. The Gesu was lighted with a dull flaming light, like 
 a sadness and necessity. 
 
 Mr. Northcote told me to-day that Lord Clifford had ofi'ered 
 asylum to twenty Jesuits at his place in England. Perone, 
 Passaglia, Mazio, being among them, and their best men of 
 science. 
 
 22nd. Changed from 78 Via della Croce to 133 Corso. 
 
 23rd. Beautiful, like summer. 
 
 I found the Corso full. News from Milan that it was in the 
 hands of the people ; then Padua, Mantua, Venice, Modena. 
 Went up into a Loggia and saw a man run down, jump in the 
 air, with arms up, shouting, then stooping and springing up. 
 Then he ran on with two others. Heard that he was a Milanese 
 duke who had been exiled. Went at two to Piazzo del Popolo ; 
 a carriage with a flag came up, stood between the two churches, 
 and a civic guard read a paper saying " The minister at war, 
 with advice of Consulta and consent of the Pope, considering the 
 urgent circumstances of Italy and the general state of the City, 
 orders that a conscription of Volunteers be opened at 4 p.m. at 
 the Campo. 
 
 Soon a great crowd came, and linked in files went down the 
 Corso. Padre Gavazzi at the head next the standard. Lord 
 Lindsay and I followed ; we all went down the Corso into the 
 Forum, down the old stairs, under the arch of Titus, into the 
 Coliseum. They gathered round the Eostrum, and P. Gavazzi 
 preached with a concentration of body and mind, and all powers, 
 seldom exceeded ; he said " The other day I declared words of 
 peace ; to-day of war. The revolutionists were in a hurry." He 
 called on them to swear by the cross to devote themselves, and 
 to submit their will to discipline from the moment of con- 
 scription to the day when they returned in victory. 
 
 He said " Italy was for the Italians. Every one to his own 
 land. Christ died for us to redeem all, and none to be a 
 slave." 
 
 The universal oath with lifted hands was terrific. 
 
 Then came an improvisatore, then a second, then a rough 
 powerful face and head, a shepherd of the Campagna — a 
 true ])oct born. Then one or two more. Then Colonel Ferrari, 
 then Massi, who could not get heard ; then a priest in his cassock 
 who improvised slowly but effectively.
 
 XIX ARCHDEACON MANNING IN ROME 375 
 
 P. Gavazzi spoke agaiu and said : " If any wife, mother, 
 or woman hold back an arm she is not worthy to bear sons to 
 Italy." He then ended with — "The conscription to-day, Pius to- 
 morrow, the day after, Italy and victory." Then Sterbini spoke. 
 
 Then Ciceroaicchio had a contest with P. Gavazzi, whether 
 he should be allowed to go as a volunteer. At last he put it 
 to the people, who said he should not go.^ He then called up 
 his son Cigi, whom he gave in his stead. P. Gavazzi and the 
 son kissed each other. 
 
 Then Massi got heard at great length and effect. Then a 
 French minister who spoke effectively in Italian. 
 
 Then the conscription began. 
 
 The Coliseum was nearly full, at least two-thirds. I went 
 up in a high part and looked down. It was a strange and wild 
 sight, and one Avhich will be written in history.^ 
 
 The government called out two battalions of the Civic 
 Guards ; two new of mobili, and two of volunteers. It is said 
 that the Pope will bless the standards. 
 
 And yet this is not a religious war, but purely national 
 against the Catholic Emperor.^ 
 
 2bth March. — Went to the Gesu. High Mass; then sermon 
 on the day.* 
 
 26//i. — Very fine; went with Herbert to the castle. 
 
 28//;. — Went to La Scaletta. II huon Pastor e. 
 
 Saw the mother superior (a German countess, once in the 
 Court of Berlin). She said that they had about 30 in the 
 house; that many are sent by the cardinal vicar; that the 
 ages vary from 20 to 10; that parents are the cause, some- 
 times by living at Albughi leaving their children, sometimes 
 by prostituting them ; that there is one other asylum near St. 
 
 ^ In an autobiographical Note, dated 1886, Cardinal Manning described 
 this sensational scene as a melodrama. 
 
 2 Archdeacon Manning little thought when he wrote these words in his 
 Diary, that his own name would be recorded in history, in intimate connection 
 with Pius IX. and the Temporal Power of the Pope. 
 
 * That estimate of the movement of which he was an eye-witness is a 
 curious illustration of Archdeacon Manning's political insight. He detected 
 the irreligious and revolutionary character of the Italian movement, to which 
 Pius IX. himself was blind at that supreme moment. Prince Doria, by siding 
 with the revolutionary movement, did infinite mischief. Soon afterwards, how- 
 ever, the Pope recognised its real character, and broke with the Revolution. 
 
 I may add, that Cardinal Manning, speaking on this point in 1887, 
 maintained that Pope Pius IX. did not, as was alleged at the time and 
 since, bless the two standards. He gave his blessing to his own Roman 
 standard, but not to the revolutionary standard of Italy. 
 
 * The Feast of the Annunciation, a day of obligation in Italy.
 
 376 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 John Lateral!, holding about 65 ; that there they enter at will ; 
 that the rest are neglected or imprisoned, and seldom converted ; 
 that they are frightfully ignorant, not knowing their Creator ; 
 that their religion is a true superstition, praying to the B.V. to 
 fulfil some criminal end of love or hate, either some passion or 
 escape, or marriage, or the death of an enemy ; that they receive 
 by way of precaution ; but that some of them are fallen as young 
 as 10; that the house is very poor ; having a few small rents, 
 a government grant, stopped yesterday because of the embarrass- 
 ment of finance. She was most pleasing, gentle, calm, yet 
 energetic. 
 
 In the following letter to Sidney Herbert, who, with Mrs. 
 Herbert, had left Eome for Naples, Archdeacon Manning 
 gives a graphic account of the state of things in Eome : — 
 
 Rome, 14<fe February 1848. 
 
 My dear Herbert — I have this moment received your 
 letter, and commend you much for making good speed in letting 
 me know of your journey and arrival. Before I go to anything 
 else I will tell you how fares your pamphlet. ^ I went at it stoutly 
 and made no little havoc, till I found it was like Swift's scheme 
 for ploughing, by dibbling 13,000 potatoes; and I fairly gave 
 up cutting and resigned myself to the ' presentation of roads ' 
 and the organisation of soup kitchens. The next day I put it 
 into the hands of a translator who promises it this week. And 
 I have pledged myself to go over it with him, being inquisitive 
 to know how he will put Baronies and Poor-law Commissioners 
 into Italian. It will cost about £10 in translating; which Her 
 Majesty's Treasury will not think too much. By the way it is 
 vilely written. 
 
 Since you went we have had a stir here, and we shall have 
 more. The Constitutions of Naples and now of Tuscany and 
 Piedmont make it impossible for this Government to stand still. 
 There was a demonstration on Friday at the Quirinal. The 
 people went up to thank the Pope for his Edict about the army 
 and the lay ministers. The banners were borne by three 
 priests, and the usual cries and vivas (which soon subsided into 
 cigari scelti) went merrily enough about Jesuits and a Constitution. 
 You will see that the Pope before giving the Benediction spoke 
 strongly in condemnation of these noises. But next day there 
 was a good deal of discontent expressed, the impression being 
 that he had absolutely refused the idea of a Constitution. To- 
 
 ' Trevelyau's pamphlet on Ireland.
 
 XIX ARCHDEACON MANNING IN ROME 377 
 
 day it is said that the Pope and the Council of State are sitting, 
 and people expect, what from the first has been plainly in- 
 evitable, that the Pope, who began the movement, cannot end in 
 the rear. 
 
 I do not see why a constitutional Government should not 
 exist in Komc, penetrated by the idea of the Church of Christ, 
 and spiritually faithful to the Pope. Unless they take to 
 church-robbing as you do in England. Still if the Church be a 
 divine polity, and if free institutions be divine blessings, I cannot 
 see why they should not coexist. They would have to maintain 
 themselves and their mutual relations against the stream and 
 storm of this evil world — but that is only the common condition 
 of all earthly things. It is plain that the civil institutions in 
 Kome must be largely released from the ecclesiastical state, and 
 equally so that in England the ecclesiastical must vindicate its 
 divine liberty from the civil. Deus faxit, etiam me superstite. 
 
 Now I must send you some of our facts. Our letters set us 
 at ease about Col. Henry Austen. They talk of going to-morrow 
 week, so when you come I shall make you stay to keep me 
 company. "When I left you to go to Miss Trench, the first thing 
 I heard Avas that the physician pronounced, after examination, 
 that tubercles were decidedly formed, as he had feared. The case 
 is only (in our sense) not impossible for recovery. But every day 
 gives me less hope ; I never saw any state in which I did so 
 much desire to die. 
 
 I have now left little room in my letter to tell you, if I could, 
 how much I miss you both. I am sure I cannot tell why you 
 should say so : except that old boyish kindnesses have a freshness 
 which in after-life comes out again, and is more grateful by 
 contrast with present and more anxious realities, like old 
 memories of happier days. And yet I will not say happier, for 
 it is most true though at first sight a contradiction that the 
 highest happiness is in the trials of life : as Jeremy Taylor says of 
 the state you two have entered, "they have greater joys, and 
 greater sorrows." Our walks were not only a great delight to 
 me, but very good for me, and I have very much to thank you for. 
 It w^ould be hard to tell you what it has been to me to see you 
 two, and to know that your supreme desire is to live " as heirs 
 together of the grace of life." If you have any cause to remember 
 this Christmas in Rome, I have twofold, iDoth for your sake 
 and for her sake. As you force Graziosis to talk of himself, 
 I may say that, by God's goodness, I do not know what depres- 
 sion means. And yet it has been a fresh joy added to the 
 many he has given me to be made known to such an one as 
 she is, whom I may love, bless, and pray for. These are among
 
 378 CARDINAL MANNING CHAP. 
 
 the brightest and most soothing thoughts in the Avear and 
 weariness, which can never be separated from the life God has 
 given me ; I owe to you also my thanks for giving me both your 
 affection and hers. All blessings be with you. — Ever yours 
 afFectionately, H. E. Manning. 
 
 Mrs. Mills is still much in the same state. 
 Mr. Bracebridge has been somewhat unwell, but is better. 
 Your green sulky and gray horses go about, with an old 
 dowager Consultore inside, and no Ked Ferret upon the box. 
 
 In answer to Mrs. Herbert's suggestion that he should 
 come to Naples, Archdeacon Manning wrote as follows: — 
 
 78 Via dell a Croce, 
 EoME, I9th February 1848. 
 
 My DEAR Mrs. Herbert — Your letter of the 16th has just 
 come with Incognita persona in Fosta written upon it ; which 
 lifts me into the order of the Great Unknown, to the great peril 
 of my humility. I suppose the elevation at which we dwell 
 above common men accounts for the three days' travel, and the 
 ignorance of sublunary posts. 
 
 When I AVTote to Sidney on Tuesday I directed to the Posta 
 Restante, and, -without wishing to mortify his vanity, I hope he 
 has been discovered. Now what shall I say about Naples? Your 
 accounts sorely tempt me, and on Wednesday, the Austens are 
 coming your way. But I am croaking with a cold in my throat. 
 What my throat and I may think of it by next Wednesday I do 
 not know, but that will be the 23rd, and three days will make 26th, 
 and then. Leap year or no, little remains. I almost fear we shall 
 not meet before your return to Rome. I have not been out since 
 Wednesday, but I wOl not give up all thoughts of it till they are 
 fairly gone. 
 
 I trust you have enjoyed yourselves to the fullest of your 
 anticipation. I hardly Avish to see you back again, for then 
 all this sun and joy Avill be ended, and I shall only see you as 
 you pass through and away. Otherwise I should say that I long 
 to have you both in Rome again. All good be with you. — 
 Ever yours, H. E. Manning. 
 
 After a visit of some weeks to the Herberts at Naples, 
 on his way back to Rome Archdeacon Manning wrote 
 about the French Revolution as follows : —
 
 XIX ARCHDEACON MANNING IN ROME 379 
 
 Capri, at Sea, as the Admiral would say, 
 6th March 1848. 
 
 My dear Herbert — I was half sorry to go to-day, for the 
 interest of this terrible news made me wish to hear more, and 
 Naples is just now a surer place for intelligence than Rome. 
 But I had made up my mind, and it is always best, if possible, 
 to go on. So here I am, and am beginning to believe what we 
 heard, for there is on board a Frenchman returning on account of 
 this intelligence, which he says was confirmed in Naples by private 
 letters from Paris. I should have liked to stay and talk with 
 you about it, for the first thing which comes into my thoughts is 
 a war, and you will have to do with the making it, which is no 
 light matter to think of. 
 
 I suppose we shall make no great difficulty of recognising the 
 French Republic. It was one thing when Louis XVI. was 
 guillotined and the legitimate line of some thirty kings cut off, 
 and another now that the King of the French, after seventeen 
 years, is put in commission. There seems to be no principle 
 broken except one of their own making ; and they that make 
 may break so far as we are to answer. I do not see, therefore, 
 that we need do anything but recognise anything, so soon as 
 they have made it recognisable : that is, real enough to represent 
 the nation and to treat with. So far there seems no casus belli. 
 
 But will they be contented without making one 1 With an 
 army of 500,000 men, and 800,000 National Guard, an endless 
 population scantily employed, a small commerce, and no war in 
 Africa, it seems almost too much to hope, that they will not find 
 or make a quarrel : to which result old sores and new jealousies 
 will readily contribute. Can it be hoped that the Government, 
 be it what it may, ^vill have moral hold enough upon the country, 
 to keep down the desire and movement towards aggression 1 By 
 the way Lamartine fell foul of Guizot for not openly declaring in 
 favour of somebody near here. How will he like the help and 
 sympathy of a Republic ? I am afraid that Constitutions are now 
 lame devices. And there is every element to provoke a strong 
 reaction, as in England when Lord Keepers were ecclesiastics. 
 
 Of course you remember Burke's Thoughts on a Regicide 
 Peace. Besides all other reasons against it, he said that France 
 had outlawed itself from European society, jurisprudence, 
 diplomacy, civilisation : that it had made itself the enemy of 
 the law of nature and nations ; and, as a sort of Caput 
 trepinum in Eurojje, must be put down by force. This view was 
 of course based on the principle of legitimacy as well as on the 
 aggressive character of the French Directory. The first reason
 
 380 CARDINAL MANXIXG chap. 
 
 is as much past now as that mediosval diplomacy in which popes 
 deposed princes, and supposing the last not to arise it would 
 seem that the internal changes in France need not break its 
 outward relations to the rest of Europe. If this is so, we need 
 fear no war but a Avar of defence, which is the most righteous 
 form of the greatest of human evils. 
 
 But all this is beyond me. I cannot tell you how all these 
 " wars and rumours of wars, kingdom against kingdom," make 
 me draw closer to the kingdom which cannot be moved. " I 
 don't mean that there are not very difficult questions, and hard 
 to decide, in this matter ; but there is also a certainty about its 
 great laws which can be found nowhere else. And they are not 
 disputable because disputed ; nor inexpedient though the whole 
 world be against them. 
 
 The bay of Naples as we came out was beautiful. The lights 
 on Vesuvius and along the shore from Sorrento to Portici, and then 
 on St. Elmo, and on the west of the Castil del Oro, were soft and 
 warm like yesterday evening. And as the sun went down 
 behind Ischia, Procida stood out gray and green, and between 
 the islands the sunlight poured like a stream of \dsible rays 
 against the mountain, which was of the deepest purple. Messina 
 and the coast was hollow and sea-worn, bellowing like the sea 
 calves at Amalfi. I half repented not going to Salerno and the 
 like, but am quite sure that it is too soon in the year for me. The 
 reason why I could neither ride in your coach nor row in your 
 boat to-day was that the wind had a little caught my throat 
 Saturday and Sunday. It seems very selfish, or fanciful, to be 
 such a dog to one's friends. 
 
 Having got nearly to the end of this papyrus I remember that 
 if you go to Palermo you will not get it, and if you come to Eome 
 you will not get it, and that I am probably preparing a pottle 
 for pepper or macaroni at some Neapolitan dead-letter office. 
 Nevertheless, I will finish and send it : after compliments, 
 Graziosis greets Miladi. — Ever yours affectionately, H. E. M. 
 
 Rome, 7. — At Civit^ Vecchia we met a steamer from Marseilles 
 which told us that Louis P. and the Dukes Nemours and Mont- 
 pensier were alive and in England. I find here that the news 
 came on Friday by land from Genoa. It has been printed in 
 Rome these three days, and now they say there is a revolution 
 in Hungary, a constitution at Vienna, an invasion of 25,000 
 Piemontesi in Lombardy, of which I believe nothing. Among 
 the French Republicans the first name I see is Lamennais, a 
 deposed priest, and soon after, Michelet, who, I take it, is less than 
 half a believer. Things look very black. My French friend tells
 
 XIX ARCHDEACON MANNING IN ROME 381 
 
 me that the provinces and the army have fully accepted the 
 Republic. At Civit^ Vecchia a French steamer by our side 
 changed her tricolor and saluted the port, which returned it. 
 The last monarchy attached the hkie to the staff — the Republic 
 the red. I came in the midst of the tomfoolery here, but the 
 moccoleUi were given up out of sympathy with the Milanese. 
 They say here that things are going on ill and bloodily in the 
 heart of Italy ; at Civita Vecchia the Capo della Sanitlt came on 
 board swinging his arms like a windmill, shouting La repnblica 
 cammina divinamente: a tendency I doubt. Farewell to you 
 both. All good keep you till we meet. 
 
 Before leaving Naples, Archdeacon Manning gave to Mrs. 
 Herbert, as promised, a rule for her spiritual direction during 
 Lent, together with the following note : — 
 
 Naples, Qidnq. Sunday, 1848, 
 Through my idleness and forgetfulness I should have gone 
 away without fulfilling my promise, and thank you and the 
 hindrance which has set me right ; not that I can hope to offer 
 anything worth your having. But such as I can I have written 
 down. It looks, I am afraid, rather severe and wearisome ; but 
 it is intended for Lent, and I know so many who have found 
 great good in such a rule that I do not fear to give it to you. 
 
 I have not said anything about other rules, such as prayer 
 or fasting, because it is hard to keep them in travelling, and in 
 the latter you must attempt next to nothing except in things 
 which are mere indulgence of taste or delicacy. Some such 
 little and secret rule for this Lent will be good. Moreover the 
 enclosed is the first step of all ; and the great work is to mortify 
 the tre dita, intellect and will. 
 
 May He who alone knows us give you this Lent as deep an 
 insight into yourself as your faith can endure. And may He 
 give you perfect humility and every blessing of His Kingdom. 
 Ever yours for His sake. Pray for me. H. E. M. 
 
 But politics, and visiting churches, and monks, and 
 monasteries, and the Circolo Eomano of an evening, and cor- 
 respondence with the Herberts, did not make Archdeacon 
 Manning forget his friends and relations at home, as the 
 following letters to Mrs. Laprimaudaye, to his sister Mrs. 
 John Anderdon, and to Eobert Wilberforce show : — 
 
 Rome, 31st March 1848. 
 
 My dear Friend — When I got back from Naples, about three 
 weeks ago, I found your kind and acceptable note lying on my table.
 
 382 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 It gave me great pleasure to have a few words from you 
 direct, for messages are too short, to make one realise the fact, 
 that we speak to our friends mind to mind, though not face to 
 face. Since I got it the universal confusion of Italy, and the 
 opening of war in Lomhardy, has stopped all the posts, and 
 made me delay to wiite. 
 
 I do not know whether to say that I am sorry you have 
 been visited with mourning, for I have always found it so very 
 blessed, so full of soothing and I trust healthful thoughts, that I 
 feel surer and happier for my friends when they are in sorrow. 
 
 The loss of father and mother has I hope, made Heaven more 
 like home to me ; and I do not know whether I can say just 
 what I mean, when I add, that the relation of father and mother 
 seems to be exalted and transfigured, so as to be hid with them 
 in God, and to make me see that, through Him, they are still to 
 me all more than ever, and that He is what they were and are 
 in a diviner and deeper sense. I have sometimes felt (I would 
 to God it were not so seldom) that this helps me to realise the 
 idea of my adoption and filial relation, and the duties of love 
 and obedience which flow from it. I have spoken of both father 
 and mother because your letter, and Mr. Laprimaudaye's of 
 to-day, lead one to think that like myself both of your parents 
 may by this time have gone onward, and met again, after a 
 little parting. 
 
 I hope I have no discontent or impatient feelings about my 
 life and state. Indeed, I think not, for I fear I sometimes 
 enjoy it too much, and shrink from the thought of leaving it. 
 But for this fear, I cannot help thinking that it is very blessed to 
 see them we loved, gathered in one by one, beyond the reach of 
 sin and death, above all infirmity and all change. 
 
 If we were allowed to ask some one great gift for them, 
 surely it would be a holy death, and, which is the same, the 
 Presence of our Lord, forever. I wish I felt all this more in my 
 heart and will, for it is painfully and perilously easy to fancy it 
 in the imagination, or to conceive it by the intellect. And I 
 sometimes fear this is all I do. I have been allowed a great help 
 and blessing since I have been here, and that is to see daily a 
 very blessed death-bed. It is a sister of Mrs. Eobert Wilson, a 
 Miss Trench. Her mind seems to have been moulded upon the 
 Christian Year, with its gentleness and cheerful trust in the love 
 of God. And I have found this a great help in recalling my 
 mind from the idle, empty, unfeeling state into which my life 
 abroad has led me. I hope it is not so bad as it was the last 
 time I was here, but it is bad enough, and shows me how 
 much I depend on outward helps. When I think of fourteen
 
 XIX ARCHDEACON MANNING IN ROME 383 
 
 years spent at Lavington, I feel amazed at the time and 
 blessings I have lost. You ask my prayers, but I have much more 
 need of yours, though you may not believe me : and I know that 
 I have them. I Avish I dare call the slight commemorations 
 Avhich I try to make day by day of them dear to me, by the 
 name of prayers ; but if He who searcheth the hearts accepts 
 sincere love and fervent desires for their welfare as intercessions, 
 then I may say that no day passes without my interceding for 
 you. May He who is our sure and patient Guide keep you 
 in all things. — Believe me, my dear friend, yours affectionately 
 for His sake, H. E. M. 
 
 My love to all your children one by one. 
 
 The following is a letter to his sister, Mrs. John 
 Anderdon : — 
 
 Rome, 2nd Sunday after Christmas, 1848. 
 
 My dearest Maria — . . . Here we are in a new year. May 
 all blessings be with you, my dear sister. The last was a marked one 
 to you and to me. To you, from the great loss in my mother's 
 death which fell on none more heavily, or any so directly, as 
 yourself ; and to me, because besides this, eleven of the twelve 
 months were spent in illness and its consequences ; such as 
 inaction, and wandering abroad far off from everything for which 
 I live. But the last was a blessed year to us both, and we have 
 learned to think more of the world unseen and to live in it, 
 believing and feeling the fellowship of those who are out of 
 sight not less real, and even more intimate, than of those we see 
 and hear. What is there worth living for but to be more and 
 more prepared for the day when " we shall see Him as He is," 
 and all we love with Him 1 I earnestly hope that this may be the 
 only object before me for the rest of life, so long as He may be 
 pleased to give me. And I trust that with health He will also 
 give me grace to have no more to do with the things of this 
 world than if it were dead. And for you what can I wish more ? 
 You have never wanted for necessary things for your children 
 and yourself, nor ever Avill. They are largely blessed, and you 
 in them ; and now what more can you desire ? I know of 
 no people Avho live so simply and happily, and desire so few 
 things as you do ; and that is a pledge to you for the time to 
 come. Only let us more and more find our happiness in the love 
 and presence of God ; and in everything which brings Him and 
 His kingdom nearer to us all day long. How blessed Ave are as 
 a family — dearest Frederick and Edmunda alone excepted for 
 awhile — where can we find four brothers and three sisters more 
 perfectly united ? I am sure I have great reason to say so, for
 
 384 CARDINAL MANNING CHAP. 
 
 nothing can exceed the affection and happiness in which we have 
 lived without a moment's shade since we left England. When I 
 said three sisters, I did not forget dear Mary, but strangely 
 enough she seems to belong to me on the other side equally 
 closely, but mixed up with another world of thoughts and 
 persons and memories. 
 
 Give my love to John, and to your children. Let me hear 
 from you. And may all blessings be with you. — Ever your 
 most affectionate brother, H. E. M. 
 
 The following was the first letter from Eome to Eobert 
 
 Wilberforce : — 
 
 Rome, 2nd Sunday after Christmas. 
 
 My dear Robert — . . . What shall I send you from this 
 place ? it is in a state intensely interesting, intensely critical ; 
 the Pope is wonderfully loved and revered. His goodness and 
 pure benevolence are so transparent and so unshaded by self or 
 the shadow of it that he seems to sway men both good and bad. 
 But it is a transition of the greatest peril. To graft a con- 
 stitution upon the mediaeval absolute sovereignty of any country 
 is life or death, but when that sovereignty is also spiritual and 
 the government sacerdotal, the risks are at their highest. If 
 only this people will be patient and cheerful it may be done 
 to their great good ; if not, there is nothing of secular confusion 
 which may not happen. I hope to get some more insight into 
 the state of things, but it is slow work, and I have thorough 
 mistrust of information except from really accredited people, 
 who are of course difficult to get at. 
 
 Meanwhile you in England are making nearly as much noise 
 as the Romans. I read with great interest the report of your 
 York Convocation. There is nothing to be done but what you 
 did, and to wait till ideas shall once more shine out in the 
 ecclesiastical heavens ; anything more dreary and dismal than 
 things have looked of late among us it would be hard to find 
 out of Erebus. 
 
 What good genius could have prompted Lord John Russell 
 once more to unite us ? Nothing less than this would have done 
 it. Nothing under a prime minister and Hampden. And yet 
 I fear that this, after a splutter, will soak up again into our old 
 state, with the mischief of additional compromises and a lower 
 tone of Anglicanism. Let me hear from you about it and about 
 yourself. . . . — Yours affectionately, H. E. M. 
 
 The following letter was written to Mrs. Herbert at the 
 time of the Revolution in Rome : —
 
 XIX ARCHDEACON MANNING IN ROME 385 
 
 Rome, 8th Airril 1848. 
 
 I have this moment got your letter of April 3rd, with great 
 joy, and have been hoping that you would drop me some 
 parachutes as you went up. But I am sorry to see your 
 account of Sidney, and ■wish I could have helped to nurse him. 
 When he gets home into our home air and work, I have no 
 doubt he will be well and strong. It is a comfort to think that 
 you are safe and meet no molestation. How long this may last 
 seems every day less certain ; for I am afraid that Paris will go 
 to war, whatever the Provisional Government may do. 
 
 Need I say how doleful the Piazza del Popolo looks ; or how 
 nearly I told your servant to sew up the Red Ferret's mouth when 
 he came to me to aid him to find him a place ? I am obliged to 
 solace myself, as best I can, at the Circolo Romano, where, like 
 a sound Radical, I have taken to spend my evenings. Last 
 night I met Orioli and talked with him on the lecture Sidney 
 mentioned respecting the Creation, and St. Thomas Aquinas 
 and St. Augustine. He was very kind, affable, and intelligent. 
 I also got hold of a very able young priest, one of the editor-^ of 
 the Lahoro (a sort of Roman Guardian), and had a conversation 
 of which Sidney shall hear the notes. He and I agreed like doves, 
 or rooks rather, about Civiltli Cristiana and the like. Wo made 
 vows of eternal friendship, and I mean to make him digest and 
 publish Sidney's pamphlet on Ireland in his newspaper. But I 
 found him already fully aware of the untrusty nature of all Irish 
 news coming through the Propaganda. 
 
 To describe the excitement of Rome since you went would be 
 impossible. A strong feeling is growing against England, under 
 a fear that we may help the retrograde movement or hinder 
 the Independence of Italy. God avert any collision between 
 England and Italy, for the sake of the world and the 
 Church ; for between the two races we have all the 
 elements of order and progress. Now you know I am not 
 writing all this stuff to you, but to Sidney, having long ago 
 forgotten all about you, and thinking only of the Privy 
 Councillor and his wisdom. 
 
 I have had good letters from my sister. They are now about 
 starting from Leghorn to Genoa by sea. For myself I shall stay 
 on awhile. But my poor charge,^ a child, as I thank you for 
 calling her, cannot last long. This warm weather has withered 
 her up with a strange speed. She Avill, I fear, hardly see her 
 father, and I should be very loth to go before the end. Her 
 
 ^ Miss Trench died in Rome, Her father was R. Chenevix Trench, after- 
 wards Protestant Archbishop of Dublin. 
 
 VOL. I 2 O
 
 386 CARDINAL MANNING cuap. 
 
 poor mother is very sad ; but bears up well. She was much pleased 
 Avith your kind gifts. I hope you can read this, for I am 
 writing against time. It Avill be to me a great delight if we can 
 have our walk some day at Wilton, or in my home ; and I shall 
 hope to keep without diminution the happiness of exchanging 
 with Sidney both our thoughts and our affections. In this you 
 have become a pledge and safeguard ; so that we shall not let 
 each other slip again — if at least I may speak for myself. 
 
 You are both always in my prayers day by day. With my 
 love to Sidney. — Ever yours, H. E. Manning. 
 
 In the following extracts from his Diary, Archdeacon 
 Manning records the expulsion of the Jesuits from Eome, 
 and accounts for the reasons of the opposition raised against 
 them : — 
 
 29th March. — Beautiful. Jesuits expelled. Went to Collegio 
 Romano ; saw P. Grassi ; F. O'Farrell had gone away, but was 
 still in Rome. Went into the Gesu. A stream of people 
 wandering through it ; many passing through the house and 
 sacristy and into the church, taking leave ; many kneeling. A 
 sad, empty, desolate look in the church, as if all was over ; 
 perfect stillness. 
 
 The opposition to the Jesuits seems to me to arise from the 
 facts : — 
 
 1. That they incorporate the doctrine of the Canonists upon 
 the Pope's absolute sovereignty, opposing constitutional liberty. 
 
 2. That they are the aristocratic and conservative clergy (as 
 with us). 
 
 3. That the other Regulars and the Seculars are jealous of 
 them, as our clergy are of active and successful men. 
 
 4. That they are now allied with the old regime. 
 
 5. That they labour under suspicion, reasonable, historical, 
 and preternatural. 
 
 [Some time ago S. Broechi, speaking of the Curati, said : — 
 
 1. That they are despotic, having too much power, e.g. of 
 imprisonment, and are corrupted by it. 
 
 2. That he believed they were open to the charge of in- 
 continence ; that some treated it very lightly. 
 
 3. That the Regulars, especially the Dominicans, are open to 
 the same charge.^ 
 
 ^ Pope Pius IX. made many attempts to reform the monastic orders in 
 Italy, but they were always frustrated by the obstinate resistance of the great 
 religious houses, especially by the Dominicans. At the time of the suppression 
 of the religious orders by the revolutionary government of Italy, Pius IX. is
 
 XIX ARCHDEACON MANNING IN ROME 387 
 
 4. That no one ever charges this on the Jesuits.] 
 Two nights ago he said that people are very much discontented 
 with the Constitution : — 
 
 1. Because of the mixed questions. 
 
 2. Because of the admission of canon law. 
 
 3. Because of the exemption of ecclesiastics, but that it 
 concedes the principle. 
 
 bth April. — Procession to St. Peter's, the religious orders, 
 the relic, the Pope. High altar covered with golden candle- 
 sticks and tapers. The Pope gave the benediction with the 
 relic. 
 
 Went to Circolo Eomano with Signor Neri. Found a strong 
 feeling against England for the sake of Ireland ; strong jealousy 
 of our interfering vnih. Italy. The presence of our fleet at 
 Palermo. Avvocato Placidi called Neri, dogmatico ; Neri 
 called Placidi, Liherale. Placidi admitted what I said about 
 persuasion being the only arm of truth ; said the Ohhligo 
 Fasqua still existed. Neri said no one wished it away ; Placidi 
 said it made hypocrites, that anybody could get one for a mezzo 
 scudo ; Neri, that, imperfect, it was better than indifFerentism, 
 because the sentiment is good but the object false. In in- 
 differentism there is neither sentiment nor object. 
 
 I said I hoped for unity in religion. Placidi said, it was 
 ideaU and Utopian. I said that we were drawing near, first in 
 politics and I hoped we should in religion. He said he was 
 content to have diversities. 
 
 He struck me as a keen Machiavellista. 
 
 6^/t. — S. M. Tras. Ambrosoli preached. 
 
 The Abbate told me — 1. That there was much immorality, 
 even among women, before and after marriage. ... (3) That 
 discipline is very lax. (4) Even some priests very lax. A priest 
 last week or so appeared with a flag of three colours. He was 
 ordered by the cardinal vicar to spiritual exercises. His new 
 friends said he and we will come with banners, and did. 
 
 1th. — Circolo Romano. 
 
 Orioli said he had tried to reconcile Genesis with geology on 
 
 said to have declared that, though he was bound publicly to condemn the 
 suppression of the monasteries, in his heart he could not but rejoice, as it 
 was a blessing in disguise. On inquiring in 1887 of Cardinal Manning 
 whether this reported declaration of Pius IX. were true, His Eminence replied 
 that whether such an expression of opinion had been actually delivered or 
 not it truly rejiresented the views of the Pope. The Cardinal added, that 
 the success of the Revolution in Italy was in no small degree due to laxity of 
 morals in the clergy, Seculars and Regulars, and to defective education and 
 religious training in the schools.
 
 388 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 the principle of St. Augustine and St. Thomas Aquinas, i.e. that 
 the creation being before time had no succession ; that the days 
 are periods of disposition. 
 
 Orioli was ten years in Corfu ; had a chair in the University. 
 
 A body of Poles came in, and a colonel, as spokesman, said 
 in French that they were going to Lombardy to collect, he 
 hoped, 30,000 for a war of independence. They would not 
 receive a flag from Prussia, Austria, or Russia, but have one 
 Polish and Catholic, and asked influence to get the Pope to bless 
 it. He addressed the whole room, but chiefly Colonel Armandi, 
 an old artillery officer of Napoleon, who commanded forty years 
 ago at Wagram. 
 
 He ended by saying — " We speak ill of all nations but 
 England, because England has spoken well of us." 
 
 Milanesi, one of the members of the Circolo Romano, spoke 
 likewise. 
 
 I asked him why Acatholic countries were in advance and 
 Catholic in the rear of civilisation. 
 
 He admitted the fact ; said that the time had come to speak 
 lealmente ; that both sides had put off traditionary prejudice ; 
 that Leo X. had done great evil to Rome and the Church. 
 
 I gave up our Tudors ; said they were tyrants, and that the 
 English Church considered them her oppressors. 
 
 He said that for three centuries the Popes had fraternised with 
 princes, and used religion against the people ; that the Jesuits 
 had desired to maintain a dominion by a low or no education. 
 
 I said that some thought religion apart from the Church was 
 the future of civilisation ; but that I thought the organised body 
 of the Church was ; but that I found countries without this 
 organisation in advance of those with it. 
 
 He said England is full of contradictions, un paese misterioso. 
 
 Asked about Scotland and Ireland, and said that England 
 had hindered the commerce of Ireland. I said rather it had 
 made it (but now I remember that agriculture and industry 
 have suffered by English laws). 
 
 I said the state of Ireland is not known in Rome. He said, 
 No ; our intelligence comes through the Propaganda and a 
 puritan party, for we have our puritans, and all is seen with a 
 jaundiced eye. 
 
 He said that the poor in England were well paid and lived well. 
 
 (I have rarely seen a more keen eye. He had all the marks 
 of real healthy ability.) 
 
 This set me thinking till I went almost into a trance. 
 
 He said that the riches of the English Church did evil in a 
 moral and social sense.
 
 XIX ARCHDEACON MANNING IN ROME 389 
 
 Went to the Passionist Convent with Bowles. Bowles told 
 me that the Passionist's diet is as follows : — 
 
 1. Not fasting days. Breakfast at 7-8. Coffee and half a 
 
 panetto. Dinner 11.30. (1) Soup. (2) (3) Meat, veal, 
 
 and vegetables. (4) Vegetables. (5) Clieese. (6) An orange. 
 (7) 2 panetti. (8) Wine. Supper 7.30. Soup, meat, vegetables. 
 1 panetto, an apple, wine. 
 
 On fasting days. Breakfast (permitted, but not used much), 
 coffee and a finger of bread. Dinner as on other days, only fish 
 for meat. Supper as before, without meat. Sleep 7 hours ; 
 9.30 to 1: 2.30 to about 5. 
 
 9^^ April — Was presented with Lady N. and C N. to the 
 Pope.^ 
 
 S. Martino Alessandri said, " Quanti Quanti vanno a com- 
 municarsi senza confessione." 
 
 lOth. — Went to Circolo Eomano; met Milanesi. I said, with 
 liberty of the Press will come discussion even on religious opinions. 
 Ohhligo della Fasqua being gone, individuals withdrawing. 
 
 He said he wished the Obbligo abolished ; that it was in fact. 
 I quoted S. Agostino where I saw list, last Christmas. 
 
 He said it made hypocrites ; that in Rome there were fanatics 
 and formalists — those who had energy were fanatical, and those 
 who had none, formal. Often the latter of bad morals. I 
 quoting St. Thomas Aquinas that religion must be free and 
 spiritual — by persuasion — or else sacrilege ; that religion coupled 
 with politics always produced despotism. He said you have had 
 it. I said yes, in times past — but all gone now. I said in 
 France and America no Obbligo, but sects, and sects are better 
 than indifferentism for Placidi's reason. 
 
 I said that in the Middle Ages the Church did right to take 
 and use civil power. He said Yes, but the epoch is past. Then the 
 laity were warriors or merchants onl)'- — now they are developed. 
 
 He seemed to approve securing the bank-notes on ecclesiastical 
 goods. 
 
 (S. Ercoli told me to-night that the ecclesiastical lands, etc., 
 amounted in capital to £5,000,000.) Talked with Signor 
 Pengi about geological formation of Italy. He said that all the 
 Apennine is full of 
 
 (Blank space left, obviously for future filling up.) 
 
 Marchese BofFendi read a paper about Finance. A state 
 bank securing its notes on the goods of the Jesuits. 
 
 ^ In the Diary, so copious in its notes and comments on men and things, 
 not an allusion, strange to say, is made by the Archdeacon to his first 
 presentation to the Pope.
 
 390 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 Awocato Petroni was for all ecclesiastical goods. ^ 
 1 6 th, Palm Sunday. — The chanting of the Gospel sublime, 
 pathetic, articulate, calm, serene. 
 
 ISfh. — Beautiful. Went at night (8 o'clock) with the 
 Abbate, his brother, and a friend, a medical and a law student, 
 to Trinita dei Pellegrini. Saw the two refectories, lavanda, 
 and kitchen. First saw the washing the feet ; about thirty 
 men and boys. They sat round the room on a raised stone 
 bench against the wall, a tub to each. There was water laid 
 on all along the Avail. This part was railed off. They were 
 served by an equal number of brothers, priests, and laymen, in 
 red cassocks with sashes, and the laymen a band. Before they 
 began a Monsignore stood with three attendants and read a 
 prayer. The pilgrims responded, and said a pater, ave, three 
 glorias, a credo. Then the washing, which was thoroughly done, 
 then a prayer. Then they all went into the refettoria and sat 
 against the wall. Then grace ; and each had his attendant, 
 wearing a white apron with three pockets, standing opposite. 
 They had soup, a dish of hash, vegetables, salad, oranges, wine. 
 A reader read something ; then grace. Then I went up with 
 them to the dormitory. In this procession a brother came first 
 with a light, supporting one who seemed palsied ; they followed. 
 He chanting the Litany of the B. V. They kissed the foot of a 
 crucifix on a landing. When we got up, at the door stood a 
 brother with a brush and holy water. When all were in, a priest 
 preached a few words on perseverance ; then all knelt and said 
 an act of contrition ; then he sprinkled the holy water in the 
 name of the Holy Trinity. Then they repeated a thanksgiving 
 to the Holy Trinity ; and as we went a voice began the litany 
 of the B. V. again. 
 
 In the woman's part are 47 ; in both 77. The number is 
 small. 
 
 ^ The system of raising money on other people's goods is a common device 
 of the Revolution in every country. In the Revolutionary war in Spain 
 against the first Don Carlos, the Christinos borrowed enormous sums of 
 money from great bankers and financiers of Paris, Vienna, and London, on 
 the security of Church property and lands in Spain. The Revolution would 
 have been soon put down by Don Carlos had not foreign money-lenders and 
 Jews had such a huge stake in its success. For if the Revolutionary party 
 had been defeated the Church of Spain would not have been despoiled of its 
 property. Hence foreign money, foreign armies, foreign legions, were year 
 after year poured into unhappy Spain, until, at the end of seven years' war- 
 fare, the Revolution triumphed. The vast Church property of Spain was 
 confiscated and the great financiers of Europe repaid their loans. In like 
 manner the Revolution in Italy was, as is seen in the Diary, speculating 
 on the confiscation of Church property.
 
 XIX ARCHDEACON MANNING IN ROME 391 
 
 Cap. Sis. Mass and procession. Washing of feet in St. 
 Peter's ; Gospel side transept. The assistants sat dressed in white 
 on a high bench against what should be the east wall. The 
 Pope had a throne at the south. After a short office he went, 
 girded with an apron, down the aisles to the pilgrims washing 
 and wiping their feet. 
 
 Went to Cap. Sis. The Gospel, Eeproaches, Vexilla Regis. 
 
 Matins at Chapel of St. Peter's. Lamentations of Jeremiah. 
 
 Afterwards the exposition of relics from the balcony over S. 
 Veronica ; the chapel almost dark ; ten tall candles. 
 
 A pyramidical cross with the spear. A cross with relic of 
 the true cross. A frame of silver and gold with the Sudarium, 
 which had a dark centre. 
 
 Sistine Chapel. The Prophecies, the first in bass, very fine. 
 The Litany beautiful and most moving. The Mass. Gloria in 
 Excelsis. The Vespers. Alleluia and Magnificat. Beautiful. 
 
 In the Litany vestments changed. When they all knelt 
 they were mourning — when they rose up festal The change 
 very striking. The curtain before the picture also fell. Lights 
 for Pascal candle. 
 
 23rd. — Fine. Pontifical Mass at St. Peter's. The Elevation 
 towards four quarters of the world. 
 
 The Exposition of the 3 relics — the Pope at a faldstool. 
 
 The Benediction. The piazza full. 
 
 Evening. Vespers : music modern, unmeaning and noisy. 
 
 The Chancel open and lighted. Gorgeously wrought and 
 gilded doors ; and within a sarcophagus tomb apparently of 
 chased gold. Tall candelabra around upon the marble balustrade. 
 The illuminations highly beautiful and graceful. From the 
 Pincio before the gate of the French Academy, the ilexes 
 making an arch, under it the fountain, two basins — the upper 
 round, the lower octagon, a small column of water. Beyond 
 St. Peter's, welded out of flame against a deep blue sky with 
 stars. The light reflected on the fountain ; the stars coming 
 through the trees. 
 
 26^A.— Went with the Abbate and W. H.i to the Padre 
 Parroco of S. Lorenzo in Latere. We went through the House 
 of the Chicerici Minori in the sacristy. The P. P., a very frank, 
 open, gentle man, told us — 
 
 1. That the parish is about 5000. 
 
 2. That the parish priests are 3 ; he, a vicar, and an assistant. 
 
 3. That they are paid from public funds as indemnity, the 
 
 ^ W. Harrison, an invalid, was the younger brother of Manning's great 
 friend, Archdeacon Harrison.
 
 392 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 French having seized all ecclesiastical property. The Parroco, 
 25 scudi a month. Vicar, 20 do. Sub, 15 do. Sacristan, 
 7 do. 
 
 4. That they have 25 masses a day from 5 A.M. to noon. 
 The overplus being said by other priests either as alms or for 
 alms. Bequests existing. 
 
 5. That there is a sermon every Sunday at mass ; and 
 Christian doctrine at 3. At 6 an Exposition and Benediction. 
 
 6. That about 3500 ought to confess ; and not more than 20 
 fail, at least externally. 
 
 7. That the higlietti di Pasquo, are given after communion 
 at Easter, at the side of the altar, and are collected on the fort- 
 night following at their homes. 
 
 8. That as many communions as confessions. 
 
 9. That of the 3500, 60 per cent communicate at the 
 solemnities; 40 per cent monthly; 10 per cent weekly; 4 per 
 cent daily. 
 
 10. That all are obliged to communicate in the parish church 
 at Easter ; but that they may confess and frequent elsewhere as 
 they please. Ohhligo for Mass on Sundays only — not for Vespers 
 or Benediction. 
 
 [From the manner in which this last sentence is interpolated 
 in the Diary it is evidently a commentary of the Archdeacon's 
 own, surprised, perhaps, at learning for the first time that the 
 observance of Sunday is fulfilled as a matter of obligation by 
 the hearing of mass.] 
 
 11. That they may choose and change their confessor freely, 
 and without assigning reasons, going or coming. 
 
 12. That those who fail to communicate at Easter are not 
 proceeded against, at least in S. Lorenzo in Latere. 
 
 13. That women of bad life or others, after three admonitions, 
 are sent into some convent for exercises.^ 
 
 14. That every rione^ has a school supported by public 
 funds ; the Princess Borghese brought 6 French sisters, one of 
 whom has a school in S. Lorenzo in Latere of 400 ; the manage- 
 ment being in the hands of a deputazione of ecclesiastics named 
 by the cardinal vicar. 
 
 15. That about 600 children are under instruction in the 
 parish schools (4) ; besides many who go to higher seminaries out 
 of it. 
 
 16. That the children in Eome are maintained by a fund of 
 5000 scudi in the hands of the cardinal vicar. Some years all 
 expended on one or two. 
 
 ^ Spiritual exercises or retreats. ^ District or parish.
 
 XIX ARCHDEACON MANNING IN ROME 393 
 
 17. That alms are given for the remaining expenses of 
 worship, etc. 
 
 18. That their time is much taken up by giving to the 
 government certificates of character for people wishing for 
 employment ; or for leave to go away — a sort of minor passport 
 police. 
 
 19. That there are no parishes in the Campagna. 
 
 20. That what he said of confession is true, also of paesi, 
 when there is means of daily confession. 
 
 'iOth. — Fine. Report to-day that the people of Rome addressed 
 the Pope yesterday to declare war against Austria. The Pope 
 would not. The people again replied that in that case, if their 
 troops were taken prisoners they would be treated as marauders ; 
 that the Pope must declare war. The talk is that the Pope 
 should go to St. John Lateran as his episcopal see, and leave the 
 government to the Romans. 
 
 8 o'clock. — Fidele tells me that two cardinals and Principe 
 
 Chigi have escaped from Rome ; that P. had been to 
 
 the Pope ; that the Pope had said he would take the night to 
 consider ; that the people say No, because many things may 
 happen in a night ; that Prince Doria ordered the gates to be 
 closed ; that an estafette going out was stopped ; and that the 
 people have entered the Castle of Saint Angelo. No doubt, 
 much of this untrue. 
 
 The Pope is said not to have slept all the night ; one of the 
 Guardia Nobile saw him this morning saying Mass, and said 
 his face was so changed that he hardly knew him. He has 
 appointed Princes Rospigliosi and Doria and Mamiani a 
 deputation to decide on the course. Four ways are open. (1) 
 A league offensive and defensive with Sardinia. (2) A direct 
 declaration of war by the Pope. (3) A cession of this part of 
 sovereignty to the lay government. (4) An abdication of 
 temporal sovereignty. 
 
 The third seems the course between ; but, if on the principle 
 of incapacity as a spiritual person, it is equivalent to the fourth, 
 for then he so far ceases to be sovereign, and it is a question 
 only of degree. 
 
 This is evidently the sense of the people, who, with one 
 exception, S. Mercuri, are all, so far as I have heard, of one 
 mind.^ One said, all foreigners thought the offices incompatible 
 long ago ; now the Italians and the whole world are agreed. 
 
 The Pope also accepted the resignation of ministers, but re- 
 
 ^ " The people," that is the anti-Papal party, as represented in the Circolo 
 Romano.
 
 394 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 ferred them to the deputation. They continue putting Mamiani 
 for Antonelli.^ 
 
 It is said that they have seized all the letters of the car- 
 dinals and purpose to read them at the Capitol at two o'clock. 
 
 [Here follows an interlineation in the Diary : The letters 
 were restored unopened ; the people took them.] 
 
 I saw the house of Cardinal della Genga, who tried to escape, 
 guarded this morning. 
 
 6 o'clock. — The Pope sent carriages for Cardinal della Genga 
 and Cardinal Bernetti, also under guard. 
 
 The letters at the post-office opened, and the courier went 
 under the Avindow with civil guards at a foot's pace. 
 
 It is said that £2,000,000 of Church property is to be applied 
 to the war out of £30,000,000. The conventual is put at 
 £5,000,000. 
 
 9 o'clock. — Under the windows of the ministry Dr. Sterbini 
 tried to get heard. A mass of people shouting and hissing. 
 He trying to persuade them to have patience and wait for 
 the ministry to act : and said that we are in a state of 
 Revolution. They cried War, secular ministry, and Avould not 
 hear him. He and his two lights went in. Then Ciceroaicchio 
 and a lamp came out. He said, " I am for the war ; my son is 
 gone, and I would have. So far we agree. I am for a ministry 
 all secular." Then he went on about patience, and they would 
 not hear a word. And he went in with his lamp. 
 
 Then I went to the Circolo Romano, and I saw Conte 
 Mamiani and Antonio de . They were amusing them- 
 selves at the expense of Sterbini and Ciceroaicchio. 
 
 The Pope sent over his carriages to bring Cardinal Bernetti 
 and another to the Quirinal ; but the people Avould not let them 
 go. Cighi is there and della Genga. Ima went off three days 
 ago to visit his diocese. Every one I meet,^ with hardly an 
 exception, seems agreed that the Temporal Power of the Popes 
 has been abused in times past : Those who are for the separation, 
 on the ground of incompatibility ; those who are for retaining 
 it, on the ground that they ought not to make war. Signor 
 Toni to-night avowed that Julius II. was -wrong, and assented 
 when I said that the temporal policy of the Pope, and not 
 spiritual questions, divided England and Ital3\ 
 
 Fideli is just come (10 o'clock) to tell me that after I left 
 the Corso, P. came. The people would not go till he 
 
 1 This is the first and ahuost only occasion of thu name of Antonelli being 
 mentioned in the Diary. 
 
 "^ Archdeacon Manning obtained his political information chiefly at the 
 Circolo Romano, a club frequented by the Revolutionary party in Rome.
 
 XIX ARCHDEACON MANNING IN ROME 395 
 
 had promised to meet them at 9 in the Piazza del Popolo to- 
 morrow. They said, We will have war or revolution. They 
 would not hear of Ciceroaicchio. 
 
 Ind. — This morning as I got up (7 o'clock) I saw on the door 
 of S. Carlo a proclamation of the Pope explaining to the people 
 his Allocution of Saturday. When I went out at 9 I found it 
 torn down. 
 
 S. Mercuri tells me that the edict was a reproof of the 
 people for their molesting the cardinals yesterday, and threaten- 
 ing spiritual censures. He also says that Mamiani has been 
 sent for and has received full power to form a ministry. He 
 added that fths of the civil guards are Oscurantisti ; I sujipose 
 he means Bottigari of the slower school. He said that among 
 them are partisans of Austria, and paid. 
 
 Ab. M. talked much of the English Church ; asked many 
 questions about royal supremacy, appeal, definition of doctrine, 
 clergy, confession ; then we talked of celibacy. He said it is 
 not for us to speak a word when the Church has ruled ; but 
 my own opinion (and that of many more) is otherwise, on 
 grounds — 
 
 1. Of personal purity, (1) contradiction of instinct (said that 
 it was very common), (2) proximate occasions. 
 
 2. Of social example. Husband, wife, household, children. 
 Thought the ideal view of the priesthood abstract and mythi- 
 cal ; and practically 
 
 (Here apparently a page has been cut out of the Diary.) 
 and that he thought the episcopate to be divine and integral, 
 I said that this would have averted the division with England. 
 
 He said that a Pope of great genius and wide view is needed 
 to adjust the Church to existing facts. 
 
 Said that the episcopate in France is too despotic, and that 
 many priests have and are withdrawing themselves. 
 
 ?>rd. — Went to Count Ambrosoli with Ab. Ceciolini. By 
 the way Ceciolini said that they wished for the separation of 
 spiritual and temporal powers, and that the Pope should have two 
 ministries at home, and two representatives abroad, expressing 
 his twofold office and character, ecclesiastical and civil ; that in 
 this way the twofold relations abroad might be preserved, and 
 the Pope be at peace with the Church, e.g. in Austria, while he 
 was at war with the empire. 
 
 Theoretically this seems to me more easy than sound. 
 
 Ambrosoli, a plain, frank man, with heavy Italian features, 
 not like, but of the texture of W. F. Hook, very simple manner. 
 Said that Abbate Ceciolini ought to apologise for hinting a 
 separation of the Austrian Bishops ; that they were too true.
 
 396 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 but that certainly discipline was much relaxed since the Tempi 
 Giuseppine.^ 
 
 Broechi tells me that Mamiani was exiled for a book against 
 the temporal power of the Pope ; that he was not included in the 
 amnesty, but that his family prayed his return to Rome, He 
 came by sufferance ; had an interview with Pius IX. ; became 
 intimate ; is now prime minister. Gatoki, minister of Police 
 under late ministry, was condemned to death. 
 
 Mamiani has formed a ministry with Prince Doria, D. 
 Bignano, De Rossi, Marchetti. 
 
 Dr. Pantaleoni says for one month. 
 
 Mr. Trench said he saw a young priest of about 30 reading 
 the Pope's address of yesterday morning against the Quirinal 
 with great intentness. When he had done, he looked around, 
 and seeing no one he took liis hat off and kissed the signature. 
 
 Went to-day to Santa Croce in evening. The church was so 
 cold and I so hot, I dared not stay for the Exposition of the 
 Relic. Yesterday I went to S. P. alle Tre Fontane. Saw \st, the 
 Church of S. Anastasio, an old Lombard church ; nave, some- 
 thing of the air of Horsham ; aisles, round windows, wheel in 
 east ; south transept, relics of St. Paul and Zeno Anast., kept 
 above in the choir of the old monastery Benedict, then Cistercian 
 cloister, where St. Bernard is said to have held a Chapter. 
 
 2nd. — S. P. alle Tre Fontane, the column and the three 
 fountains, on an inclined plane. 
 
 The 3rd. — Sta. Maria Scala Coeli, on the spot where St. Zeno 
 and 12,000 Christians who had built the Baths of Diocletian 
 were martyred ; under it a prison, in which St. Paul, it is said, 
 was confined. 
 
 Broechi tells me that Mamiani proposes to oflfer to Austria 
 the alternative (1) to withdraw from Italy ; or (2) a Avar. 
 
 Went to Circolo Romano. Saw Orioli. He said we have 
 had no government for a year and a half, i.e. no executive. 
 
 Went to Padre Ventura ; gave him Trevelyan's pamphlet.^ 
 He said — (1) That palliatives would not do for Ireland. (2) That 
 all short of Repeal was onlj' palliative. (3) That Ireland could 
 never be fused as Scotland, because of the religious difference. 
 (4) That it was the bigotry of Anglicanism which kept Ireland 
 down. (5) That, like Sicily, Ireland must have its own parliament. 
 
 I, to turn the subject, said : I am inclined to believe Padre 
 
 ^ The Emperor Joseph II. of Austria was an avowed enemy of the doctrine 
 and discipline of the Church. 
 
 * Trevelyan's pamphlet on Ireland, which, at Sidney Herbert's request, 
 Archdeacon Manning presented to the Pope. See Manning's letter to 
 Herbert, dated Rome, Uth February 1848, p. 376.
 
 XIX ARCHDEACON MANNING IN ROME 397 
 
 Ventura, because he seems to me mezzo propheta, for in the 
 beginning of January he foretold the changes in Italy from 
 Naples to the Alps, and the surprise of the Koman Government. 
 
 About this time in came Ambrosoli. 
 
 They deplored the Allocution and Brief, said it cancelled 
 Pius IX. Perhaps we in Italy had made too much of a man 
 and looked too little to God ; ascribed it to the Nemesis at 
 Vienna and the Austrian Ambassador in Rome, and to the 
 Oscurantisti round the Pope, e.g. Borromeo ; Ventura then went 
 over what passed on Wednesday last on his visit to the Pope. 
 The Pope said not a word of his Allocution. The Ministry 
 knew nothing of it. It was printed before delivered. On 
 Sunday Ventura went to the Pope and remonstrated. The 
 Pope firm. Ventura told him that he had renounced Italy, and 
 the alliance of liberty and religion. 
 
 The French Ambassador went to the Pope, who asked what 
 eflfect will this Allocution have on religion in France. He said, 
 very serious. This the Ambassador told Ventura yesterday. 
 Ventura's advice was that the Pope should call the Italian Diet 
 of all Deputies now in Eome, with four Romans, and refer to 
 them the question of war. 
 
 Ambrosoli said that P. was to go to the Pope with a 
 
 schedule of propositions : — 
 
 1. That the Pope should offer mediation. 
 
 2. That the mediation should be assured. 
 
 3. That all forces should be under Carlo Alberto. 
 
 4. That the Austrians should leave Italy. 
 
 5. That certain public debts should be paid by Lombardy. 
 
 6. Or that, as an Italian prince, he should declare war. 
 Then we got back to Ventura's visit of December 16th to 
 
 the Pope, which he narrated to Ambrosoli, saying that " Feretti 
 was the Gomarro chi a guastato la vigna." Next he called him 
 diavolo and Ambrosoli matto. 
 
 He then told us that he had been with the Pope at the time 
 the King of Naples promised his Constitution and urged the 
 Pope to promise, and which he ought to have done before, so as 
 to be the first, both first in grace and second as a model. By 
 not doing this first, the model taken is French, and second, the 
 Roman Constitution is not a gift, but a concession. 
 
 Ventura then read a paper he ^vrote and put in type, in the 
 sense he would have had the Pope speak. It amounted to 
 saying : — 
 
 1. That at his election he found the temporal power needing 
 adjustment, (1) to the facts ; (2) to the age. 
 
 2. That he was prepared to do so.
 
 398 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 Ventura went a week afterwards, and the Pope said that, 
 being one of many Italian princes, he could not do this alone. 
 Ventura said, " May God make you know your power." The 
 Pope said " How 1 " Ventura said, " You are not a sovereign, 
 but a Pope, and if you do not see this you will lose your tem- 
 poral power." The Pope said, "That does not inspirit me." 
 Ventura said, " Not as G. Mastai ; but as Pope, answerable to 
 God and to the Church, it does greatly. You have a princedom 
 for the sake of the independence of the Church. All history 
 shows that Ghibellini Popes have been infamous, and Guelph 
 Popes beloved." 
 
 Ventura said, " Let not your Holiness look to the sovereigns 
 of Europe, who are shadows which may vanish within the year, 
 but to the peoples, who are realities and last for ever." We 
 then talked of the Roman journals, which, except the Laboro, are 
 all Radical — all without ideas or principles. The Censure and 
 the Cardinal Vicar press heavily on the Laboro because the 
 editors are ecclesiastics ; but the laics have free field. 
 
 Ventura urged the Pope to make an ecclesiastical paper on 
 these considerations : — 
 
 1. That it should be free. 
 
 2. That it should treat of the civil state of the Church in all 
 nations, the heresy of the day being oppression of the Church 
 by the civil power. 
 
 3. That it should set a tone to the episcopate. 
 
 4. That it showed the Romans that there is something beyond 
 the SS. Giovanni and the Piazza del Popolo. 
 
 The Pope would not. Ventura will not write, and the 
 Radicals have it their own way. 
 
 They talked of England, and said that Lord Aberdeen had 
 protested that the British fleet were in the Adriatic, and that 
 an attack was to be feared on Venice in alliance with Austria. 
 Ambrosoli said that the Pope's master mistake was confirming 
 the old household. Ventura said that he had told him that he 
 could not live in the Pontine marshes without catching the fever. 
 
 He said the Pope's popularity was gone ; that it had perished 
 even with the comeres, the lackeys ; that nothing can regain it. 
 The Progressists will never trust him ; the Oscurantisti never 
 forgive ; that to have given the first impulse is a sin that not 
 even baptism can cancel. 
 
 I walked away with Ambrosoli ; asked him how it was that 
 Acatholic countries outstrip Catholic in political advance. He 
 said that in Catholic nations there is a principle of authority. 
 
 I said of absolutism, which it is hard to keep from spreading 
 beyond its bounds, e.g. dogma.
 
 XIX ARCHDEACON MANNING IN ROME 399 
 
 I asked if the doctrine of the Canonists as to the temporal 
 power of the popes is still held. He said No ; the divine right 
 is entirely given up. 
 
 This afternoon I saw Miss Plummer, who told me Miss 
 Giberne talked about the Freemasons, and quoted the Jesuits as 
 authority. They seem to have been saying that there is no 
 real popular movement ; but the work of secret societies, Free- 
 masons, etc., exciting the people. 
 
 Yet she admitted that all she met were in favour of the war. 
 
 The Padre P. said — That he had an ecclesiastic as penitent, 
 Avho in six years had given him no matter of absolution ; and 
 also some women. 
 
 bth. — Saw Abb6 Gerbet ; ^ found it was he who spoke to me 
 at the foot of the stairs and asked for a French family ; was 
 pleased with him then. He recognised me, and asked if it was so. 
 He Avas most kind and obliging. Told me that Lamennais is 
 still out of Italy ; that Ravignan is gone home to Paris ; that 
 religious orders in France are remaining or tolerated ; that the 
 principe d' association, i.e. the popular, is consecrated, that they 
 will get liberty of education and do something for the poor ; 
 that the bishops will meet in provincial councils ; that he 
 thinks they have not acted in common. 
 
 Went to the Catacombs of S. Agnese. The entrance is a 
 vineyard, | mile east of church, down flight of brick steps ; low 
 and narrow, with oblong cavities all open, and cleaned marks 
 where the ampolle stood. 
 
 Saw — 1. A chapel with frescoes, Moses and rock; Daniel and 
 lions ; three children ; Good Shepherd ; B. V. standing with 
 uplifted hands ; an altar with round arch over it ; ceiling a 
 vault of two arches, square. 
 
 2. A chapel for catechumens. 
 For women, with two seats : 
 
 One for priest, one deacon ; sedile all round. 
 
 3. Another for men with only one priest's seat, and no 
 running sedile. 
 
 4. Another with two seats, perhaps for famihes ; a seat 
 or confessional. 
 
 5. Another with two seats. 
 
 6. A chapel of B. V. 
 
 7. A church of two. 
 
 (The catacombs are illustrated by pen-and-ink sketches.) 
 All along occurred chapels two and two facing. 
 
 ^ Abb6 Gerbet, afterwards Bishop of Perpignan, was a friend and pupil of 
 Abbe Lamennais before his falh
 
 400 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 In the chapel of the B.V., met a French priest who seemed to 
 feel bound to deliver his soul. 
 
 He said that AbbtJ Gerbet and others thought the fresco to 
 be of the second century. He thought it to be of the fifth, of 
 the date of the Council of Ephesus, and brought it in proof of 
 the cultiis of B.M.V. at that date. 
 
 Of this it is no proof ; but it does show — 
 
 1. That the B.V. was held in special veneration by being on 
 the altar. 
 
 2. That her intercession though the same in genere with that 
 of all saints was a pre-eminence specific. 
 
 Of course it implies neither invocation nor ofiice. Still it 
 was a very high sentiment — the germ of all the rest. 
 
 Signor Pulcinelli (of the Pope's household) told me that the 
 Pope had received a letter from the Emperor of Austria, with 
 the signature of twenty-five bishops, threatening subtraction of 
 obedience. 
 
 5th May. — This is the Pope's Saints' day. 
 
 Last year there was a great illumination ; this, not a light. 
 
 News of a victory at Busselengi and shouts of lumi for Carlo 
 Alberto ! 
 
 6^A May. — Went to St. Sebastian. Behind the south window, 
 a kind of apsidal aisle. An under chapel, which is the catacomb 
 of St. Stephen, opened and built over a century ago by a Bishop 
 of Risi, Cardinal. In it was St. Stephen's arms. He was 
 "ofi'ering sacrifice," and was martyred in the act and buried, 
 ■\vith his arms covered with his blood. All round are arched 
 tombs ; thirteen said to be of popes. 
 
 The body of St. Fabian is in the church above. The bodies 
 of St. Peter and St. Paul are said to have been brought to this 
 catacomb for safety, and to have been there 100 years. 
 
 The body of St. Sebastian is under his altar, where is the 
 recumbent figure with arms. 
 
 The descent to the catacombs under his chapel, an under 
 chapel where his body once was ; now Sta. Lucina there. Over 
 the altar nearly opposite St. Sebastian are the relics. 
 
 The stone with impression. 
 
 An arm of St. Stephen. 
 
 The column to which he was bound. 
 
 Then we went to the catacombs where is a sepulchre, in 
 which the body of St. Cecilia was said to have been found. 
 Then to a chapel where lay the body of St. Maximin. Then 
 to a chapel where St. Philip Neri used to go to pray ; where 
 also he received the impress on his heart. A square chamber 
 with arched recess for altar, and a square credence.
 
 XIX ARCHDEACON MANNING IN ROME 401 
 
 The Appian Way on either side. 
 
 Went to St. John ante P. Lat. A curious old church with 
 a cortile and gateway. Ionic columns, apses, basilica form. 
 Chai)ter of St. John Laterau, to whom it belongs, are bound to 
 say the offices there on this day. They were sitting in a capella 
 with five priests in crimson copes ; a cross facing the altar. 
 
 We came in for the Magnificat and procession to B.S. The 
 chapel plain and very simple, crimson fronted with gold lace. 
 
 Out of the cortile and towards the wall, a small octagon 
 chapel with marble altar, and under it a deep hole where it was 
 said the cauldron was placed. 
 
 Going out we passed the church. 
 
 A small church on the left. The ancient pavement runs 
 across the pavement in the church ; and in the centre is another, 
 the facsimile of that at St. Sebastian ; at each end in the wall a 
 painting of our Lord, two of St. Peter. 
 
 9th. — Walked with Abb6 Gerbet to Villa Wolgerski near 
 St. John Lateran. Talked of his Principe de certitude. He 
 said it needed revision. 
 
 The Villa Wolgerski is supposed to be the land given by the 
 Empress Helena. Marbles and inscriptions have been found. 
 
 The aqueduct of Nero runs across the garden, which is beau- 
 tiful, and the view of Rome from the roof is a panorama, having 
 the seven churches in sight. 
 
 Coming away he (Abb6 Gerbet) told me of the relic of the 
 Cross, the title, which he said he had examined ; that it is on 
 wood ; one half only existing ; and that a glass is needed to 
 read it ; that all the three lines are written from right to left ; 
 that in the Greek there are lunar (e) letters, which were 
 thought to be an objection ; but that they are found in the 
 MSS. at Pompeii, which are of the first century. 
 
 Will May. — Fine. At eleven had audience at the Vatican; ^ 
 at two went and saw the wall at the Capitol, at six started with 
 the courier for Foligno. Left Rome in a warm sunset ; and 
 the evening came on soft and the moon clear ; caught one sight 
 of St. Peter's from about the Ponte Molle. 
 
 The graphic accounts, full of interesting details and com- 
 ments, which Archdeacon Manning recorded in his Diary, 
 of Perugia, Pisa, Assisi, and other cities through which he 
 
 ^ On the day he left Rome, Archdeacon Manning had a private audience of 
 Pope Pius IX. The interview lasted more than half an hour. In the Diary, 
 otherwise so copious in notes and in detailed descriptions, the conversation 
 between, the Pope and Archdeacon Manning is dismissed with the mere 
 words, "Audience at the Vatican." 
 
 VOL. I 2 D
 
 402 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 passed on his way home, are too copious and too detailed for 
 quotation : I cannot, however, refrain from giving in full, 
 accounts of Archdeacon Manning's friendly visits to Father 
 Luigi at the Convent of Gli Angeli, Assisi, and frequent 
 controversies with him and the other monks, as follows : — 
 
 13^^ May. — Started for Assisi, saw S. Pietro of the Bene- 
 dictines, a fine church and convent out of the town on high 
 ground. St. Catherine of Siena, in the south arch of choir, 
 heautiful. 
 
 View from Loggia, at back of Tribune (as in the church 
 I visited, near Homburg), wonderfully fine. (Blessing and 
 bowing. ) 
 
 Then to Gli Angeli. Fra Luigi received me. 
 
 He said, ^^ Mi pare sacerdote"; I said, "delta Chiesa Anglicana." 
 
 We then went to church where compline was just beginning. 
 
 Under the dome is the Porziuncula, a rude stone chapel 45 
 by 21, about 30 feet to gable. At the gable two niches -with 
 figures, four angels at the corners. The chapel has a west door, 
 round-headed, with one round moulding. At the south side 
 another large round-headed door; on the north side two 
 windows, one square -headed, the other lancet, near the altar — 
 deep, broad. 
 
 Over west door is Overbeck's picture in fresco. The whole 
 end frescoed and diapered. On each side of church (inside) 
 kneeling desks for one each. Floor marble composition, steps of 
 altar marble. Screen of iron rails about 9 feet high, wrought 
 and gilded ; two or three rows of large lamps at intervals ; sides 
 of roof panelled oflF, and carved ^vith ex votos. Altar small, and 
 covered with gold, reredos all gold or gilt. 
 
 F. Luigi led me in and told me to sit ; but I went up two 
 steps of high altar till after compline. Then to the Porziuncula ; 
 then outside the door. After awhile the Host came under a 
 canopy with about five attendants, one a priest, who knelt at 
 altar. Then the friars, about 60, came in procession through the 
 transept and aisle, chanting. 
 
 They knelt in two lines down the churcL Then followed 
 paters and aves and glorias ; then the tune of Jesu dulcis 
 memoria, and I think the hymn. Then some prayers. Then I 
 think was sung Veni Creator (a triduo for the Eoman State 
 at this time), with some of the collects. Then Tantum Ergo 
 and the Benediction. 
 
 The whole was solemn and beautiful. 
 
 Then went into the sacristy and was introduced to the 
 Father guardian.
 
 XIX ARCHDEACON MANNING IN ROME 403 
 
 The Porziuncula has an apse which seems modern, and is cut 
 off at the back of the altar and railed in. 
 
 Then I saw the chapel where St. Francis died. His chamber, 
 and a door said to be the original. 
 
 (Here follows pen-and-ink sketch of chapel.) 
 
 7 o'clock. — AValked up towards Assisi. The moon broke out 
 and reminded me of Harrow and Oxford, under a cloudless 
 sky and yellow moon. The whole country green with fresh 
 verdure and foliage ; and the frogs croaking in the water by the 
 roadside ; as the evening fell I got into Catonia. 
 
 9 o'clock. — Went and talked with F. Luigi and the 
 Infirmarian. F. Luigi spoke well of the English ; of their good 
 writers. 
 
 He then said he hoped for union. 
 
 I said " It was my daily prayer." 
 
 He said " You are a young man and will see it, I am 80." 
 
 I said " I hope you will see the church finished." He begged 
 3i years. 
 
 He said "The last and the present Pope both looked for it." 
 
 I said " People here do not know us. We believe that we 
 are baptized and believe the Faith." 
 
 He said " I know there are only a few points of diflference." 
 
 Then he asked the number of our churches ; and whether we 
 had the Succession ; about Absolution ; services. 
 
 The Infirmarian got uneasy. 
 
 F. Luigi asked whether we held Purgatory. 
 
 I said " We held a third state, in which all are ; not mixed, 
 but waiting ; the bad for torment, the good purifying." 
 
 The Infirmarian said, " The bad go to hell," which is the coun- 
 ter-proposition to Protestants sending all to heaven ; yet he ad- 
 mitted that the Resurrection would unite their bodies in torment. 
 At last he got more uneasy and said, "One point is enough," as 
 against F. Luigi's few points. I said " You mean the separation." 
 I quoted invincible ignorance ; he would not admit it, and I said, 
 because of separation ; then quoted MuUi Oves. I said it was 
 better to be less than more, and that he as an Infirmarian 
 would admit the analogy, which he did unwillingly, I argued 
 there is only one Church ; I quoted St. Augustine, MuUi Oves. 
 He, St. Paul. I, St. Thomas ; he, the Church. At last he got 
 up and went, as if to testify. 
 
 Spiritual light, which is love, overflows intellect like water in 
 the basin of a fount ; intellect, which is light without love, dwells 
 in its own margin. F. Luigi said, " We in Italy are on the eve of 
 times worse than the Reformation ; lo dico con lagrime agli occhi." 
 
 The things F. Luigi could least get over were the putting the
 
 404 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 bread into the hand of the communicant; the thought of break- 
 ing it "with teeth ; and the rejection of the Extreme Unction. 
 He asked about confession and absolution, especially for the sick ; 
 about ordination, ritual, accipe Spiritum Sanctum; absolvo te. 
 (The Infirmarian said, "That without penances, absolutions 
 avail nothing.") About one baptism in and out of the Church ; 
 mitre ; priests' vestments ; feasts ; F. Luigi did not seem to 
 hold to the objection of our not having them in offices for 
 saints. But pressed the absence of saints and miracles, said 
 that it left the people in crassa ignoranza (invincible) ; claimed 
 both as frequent in the Roman Church. 
 
 After this (10 o'clock) went to supper, wine and tea, eggs and 
 omelette. Two of the lay brothers waiting. 
 
 F. Luigi was like St. Francis, and the Infirmarian seemed to 
 me to be a Catholic High Churchman of the Roman Church. 
 F. Luigi was as full and firm in dogmatic belief, but the sharp 
 lines were melted off by a fervent charity. He seemed a loving 
 old man, ripe in years, and loving knowledge of God and man ; 
 gentle, hopeful, and just. The Infirmarian seemed zealous, eager 
 for truth, unyielding, urging literal formulas to consequences 
 contrary to axioms of natural religion, and of the revealed 
 character of God. Withal by overstraining the doctrine of the 
 Church he lost hold of it. 
 
 Sunday, lUh May. — Went to the church at half-past eight; 
 started and walked up towards Assisi ; fell in with three 
 women, one of the third order of St. Francis ; the other two 
 of the confraternity of St. Stephen. They are bound by rule 
 to go 6, 7, and 8 Sundays (as certain years run) to Gli 
 Angeli. In bad weather the women may go to S. Francesco. 
 One, Soeur Cardelli, told me that there was a monastery of 
 Bavarian Franciscan Sisters near her house, of saintly life ; one 
 was made Abbess of Novara. As Cardinal Mastai passed to the 
 Conclave in 1846, she told him he was going to take up a great 
 and bloody cross upon his shoulders. She explained that he 
 was to be elected. After this event Pope Pius IX. sent for her 
 to Rome ; and she had revelations of attempts on his life. So 
 they believe ; and much more, as of the appearance of Satan in 
 token of the trials coming on Italy, and of one of the sisters 
 carrying the child Jesus through their garden. When we got to 
 Assisi I went first to S. Francesco. I shall never forget the 
 first entrance into the church. The sunlight outside was white 
 with brightness ; the door, a pointed narrow door, with red 
 marble shafts, twofold and a centre, looked black ; when I got 
 in I saw little but the windows of chapels and transept. After 
 awhile I be^an to see the frescoes looming through the darkness.
 
 XIX ARCHDEACON MANNING IN ROME 405 
 
 Then the high altar, Avith the wrought-iron screen and gilding. 
 The pitch of the roof and the pillars gave it a most impressive 
 look ; like the under church of York, pointed. Also it is so 
 irregular as to entangle one's eye. It had a solemn imposing 
 effect, beyond almost any church I can remember. 
 
 (Here follows a pen-and-ink ground-plan.) 
 
 The form of the church is a Latin Cross with an end like 
 the seven chapels at Durham. Windows like the style of West- 
 minster Abbey. Over this, going up by the sacristy, is the 
 upper church, a Latin cross of a style we should call Early 
 English ; groined chief door opening upon a piazza higher than 
 the roof of the second church. The windows, lancet lights, pointed 
 and fourfoil, with apertures. 
 
 The under church and sanctuary white marble, and of 
 a modern French look, not pleasing. Mass at the altar of St. 
 Francis in the second church ; then through the cloister to the 
 ambulatory round west and south sides of the convent. 
 
 View wonderful. 
 
 About 50 brothers, of whom 20 priests. At Gli Angeli 150 
 brothers; at S. Damiano about 12; at S. Chiava about 20 
 sisters. S. Apoll. Benedictine nuns, four veiled this morning. 
 
 From this I went to the Piazza, up a street with many marks 
 of Lombard architecture, with chapels frescoed, one open, one 
 shut. Fountains and a Monte di Pieta of Lombard architecture. 
 In the Piazza a temple of Minerva, now a church. Fluted columns, 
 and before it the old Eoman altar with curious incisions. The 
 old level about 10 feet below the modern. Then to the Cathedral, 
 a fine Lombard face, door, and wheel windows, but much ruined 
 by modernism. Then Chiesa Nuova, where is the old street door 
 of St. Francis's house, and the place where they say he was 
 crucified. They are now in the angles of an octagon church. 
 Then to S. Chiava. Lombard ; groined ; wheel window ; apse. 
 
 Going out of the gate to S. Damiano saw a cross into which 
 was let another, being the same that St. Catherine of Siena 
 carried in a mission at Assisi. After dinner to S. Damiano, 
 lying under the brow of the hill S.S.E. of the city ; reminded 
 me of Heme Bay and the moat. 
 
 A courtyard. Church with ambulatory. 
 
 (Here follows ground-plan, with minute description.) 
 
 Including the window through which St. Francis threw the 
 money, and the choir of St. Clare and window of Saracens. 
 Above was the dormitory reaching over the whole nave ; and 
 at end the window which is painted outside with the Saracens 
 falling, and St. Clare within carrying the ciborium, followed 
 by her nuns.
 
 406 CARDINAL MANNING cha.p. 
 
 An oratory of St. Clare, and her chamber, with steps out of the 
 dormitory, also by the stairs up to the oratory. A small loggia 
 with a place for flowers looking south over the plain. 
 
 Hardly anything has more interested me. The church is 
 like one of our rude Early English, with an apse ; much ruder 
 than Upwaltham. The refectory reminded me of the groined 
 roof at Old Waltham and Hardham. Altogether I felt it the 
 most English sight I have seen, and it gave me a home feeling. 
 Among the I'elics are the alabaster ciborium St. Clare is said to 
 have carried against the Saracens. Her breviary, and the bell of 
 her convent which rings with a soft tone, a portion of linen 
 with which she staunched St. Francis's wounds. A chalice to 
 purify hands, as I understood, perhaps before carrying Host. 
 The choir is most rude. The seats are as it were one bench 
 divided into 12 or 13 squares. 
 
 There is an excommunication against innovation. In the 
 refectory there is a cross let into the table where St. Clare sat. 
 (Now the P. guardian.) St. Clare's chamber now the curia of 
 the Provincial. 
 
 In the marble choir round the upper moulding of the canopy 
 of stalls : Non Vox sed Votum. Non clamor sed Amor. Non 
 cordula sed Cor. 
 
 Coming back, went again to St. Clare, to which after the 
 attack of the Saracens St. Clare migrated. Her body lies 
 under the high altar ; a door lamp is always burning under the 
 grating ; so dark and hidden that the first time I did not see it. 
 The exact site of the body is not known, only that it is there ; 
 which also I find said of St. Peter. This seems to me to be 
 honest and religious. 
 
 Saw also the crucifix placed in Campo Doro which is said to 
 have spoken to St. Francis, and the aperture through which St. 
 Clare communicated. 
 
 Then came down to Gli Angeli. 
 
 Bid farewell to F. Luigi. He bade me consider and take 
 counsel of some competent Catholic in England ; said that God 
 loves England, and that many are coming to the true Church, as 
 many have already. Chiesa dell' Ingleterra, Chiesa Inglese, Chiesa 
 di Londra. 
 
 I asked his prayers ; said we may never meet again ; then I 
 said, " My one only aim in life is to unite my soul with God. If 
 an unworthy sinner dare say this, I will dare." 
 
 He said Ah ! and kissed my right cheek, much moved. We 
 gave the kiss of peace and I went away.^ 
 
 1 Cardinal Manning in 1887 said he could not recollect F. Luigi's parting 
 words, which he had forgotten to put down at the time in the Diary.
 
 XIX ARCHDEACON MANNING IN ROME 407 
 
 The walls of Ravenna low, of red brick, with a kind of moat. 
 Fertile and cultivated, but still desolate, with a look and a feel- 
 ing of a fallen city. 
 
 Dante's tomb adjoining S. Francesco. An unworthy build- 
 ing, with poor sculptures. 
 
 W. H. and I wrote our names in a book kept there. I hardly 
 sufficiently collected consciousness enough to be interested as I 
 expected. 
 
 Certainly no poem has ever impressed me and lived in me as 
 the Divina Commedia. 
 
 At 12.30 started for Forli; got in at 5. 
 
 Neapolitan cavalry on their way to Lombardy. 
 
 At midnight was woke by their bugles. 
 
 Started in a carriage for Florence. For the last 15 miles the 
 fireflies hovered in clouds on the sides of the road ; in the gardens, 
 on the fountains, over flocks of sheep ; in high garden gates ; down 
 in the beds of rushes by the river-side ; sometimes upon the 
 horse and close over our heads. It seemed as if the air was 
 alive and on fire, emitting drops of light. 
 
 27//i. — Mass at St. Philip Neri's altar. Head of silver, with 
 relic. Mass at S. M. 
 
 Responses of nuns (out of sight), very soft, tender, distant, 
 plaintive. 
 
 Oratory of the Philip". Compline sung by one priest and a 
 great number of men and boys, lay, in common dress. Unison 
 very good. 
 
 Then a panegyric by a Dominican. 
 
 He said Rome had been twice converted ; once from idolatry, 
 again from corruption. The first by Apostles, the second by 
 Philip Neri. The first from Paganism ; Babylon fell, and holy 
 Rome arose edificata da Filippo. 
 
 Then a hymn before the altar, and a relic carried round, kissed 
 and laid on the forehead.^ 
 
 ?>\st. — Went to Lucca by train. 
 
 Cathedral built by Anselm, Bishop of Lucca, afterwards 
 Alexander II., who blessed William the Conqueror's banners 
 against England. 
 
 The following extracts from the Diary are interesting 
 
 1 In his Diary Archdeacon Manning nowhere says in so many words, that 
 he took a personal part in the veneration of relics which he so often witnessed 
 and described with touching fidelity. Yet from the tone and spirit of his testi- 
 mony I have no doubt that at St. Philip Neri's Oratory at Florence, for 
 instance, the relics of the saint were laid on the forehead and pressed to the 
 lips of the Archdeacon of Chichester.
 
 408 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 as pointing once more the contrast between nature and 
 man : — 
 
 Got into Perugia about six. Stopped by the way for the 
 benediction at a Httle church just outside. At eight o'clock, as 
 I sat in my room, heard the litany. 
 
 loth Mmj. — Beautiful. Started (post 2 hours) at quarter to 
 nine. Passed Lake of Thrasymene. The site of the battle plain. 
 
 1. The open hill laid waste to draw Flaminius. 
 
 2. The woods where the C. horse lay hid. 
 
 3. The road by which the Romans followed from Arezzo. 
 
 •i. The bottom surrounded by mountains, and lake in which 
 they were surrounded. 
 
 5. Road to Perugia from Arezzo. 
 
 7. The Sanguinelto. 
 
 It must have been a day of slaughter, and the streams ran 
 red into the lake. A more complete shambles for the slaughter 
 of an army cannot be conceived. The mountain, now Mount 
 Gualandro, shoulders off towards the lake doing two things — 
 draAving the road into a funnel, so as to force the Roman army 
 to enter ; and hiding the ambush till they were entered. On 
 the outside there is not a sign of the amphitheatre inside. So 
 at the other end, at Passignano, there is only the breadth of the 
 road between the mountain and the water. To scale the moun- 
 tain was impossible in the face of armed men. I could not help 
 thinking what agony must have been then, when the reality 
 burst on them ; and for three hours they fought to desperation. 
 What miseries of Rome, and all sacred homes, and loved faces, 
 when their hearts were breaking. 
 
 And what a witness to the eternity of nature ! To-day it 
 was as still and bright and calm as if no storm and bloodshed 
 had ever been there. The lake as smooth as a glass ; beds of 
 rushes running out ; boats with high prows lying half hid and 
 waterlogged ; here and there a bark steering to the islands and 
 the convent ; along the shore hung fishing nets strained in the 
 sun. Trees thick set, festooned %\ath flowers ; wheat and beans 
 growing beneath. Oxen tied to the olive-trees, and peasants at 
 their noonday meal under the shade. Nature the same as ever. 
 Not a footprint, not a shield, not a corse, not a drop of blood, 
 but earthy, green, and fruitful. 
 
 Piers square ; triforium very rich, pierced and open ; tran- 
 septs divided into two ; chapels of Voto Santo (Zurich). 
 
 Carpet of iron, hanging from ceiling, in which flax is burnt 
 before the archbishop when he celebrates. Sic transit gloria 
 muruli. Done before Pope at his coronation only.
 
 XIX ARCHDEACON MANNING IN ROME 409 
 
 Archbishop wears the purple ; canons white. 
 
 S. Giovanni ; Lombard, basilica style, square. Baptistery 
 against north wall of apse. Fresco of Madonna, St. Catherine, 
 St. Lucy, and S. Tridiano, with mosaic fine and rich. 
 Beautiful picture by F. Francisco. The B. V. an ideal, 
 fair and very bright, kneeling, at the right side angels and 
 cherubim. Below, St Anselm, St. Augustine, David and 
 Solomon. Fine round sculptured font. S. Tridianus was son 
 of an Irish king, 550 ; ^ went to Rome, returned to Ireland, 
 founded monastery, came back to Lucca. See vacant, elected 
 bishop, died 578, i.e. 17 years before the mission of St. Augustine, 
 when England was Saxon and heathen again. 
 
 The church has an outline of a Norman church. A high 
 clerestory. Three marks, nave, sacrarium and apse, five round 
 pillars, lamb, Corinthian heads. Then a square pillar, then two 
 round and a square pillar ; then the apse ; then windows long 
 and round-headed. Nine in the aisles ; five in the clerestory, 
 with two inserted, having lancets. The style is very simple and 
 severe. The west front has a baluster window and a dome. 
 
 Fireflies in the dark streets flying along before or round 
 one's feet. 
 
 1iul June. — Fine. Left Leghorn, Genoa at 11. 
 
 The revolving light like a great eye issuing forth. When it 
 turned its dark side looked like a great bat on two white 
 wings. 
 
 Uh. — Saw a body of Croat prisoners brought in. Rumour 
 that Pius IX. has promised to crown Carlo Alberto with the 
 iron crown at Milan. This is virtually to depose the Emperor 
 and to invest the King of Sardinia. Yet it may be treated only 
 as an act of recognition, e.g. we recognised Louis Philippe and 
 the French Republic ; and the Pope's act is ex post facto. 
 
 On the 7 th of June, Archdeacon Manning arrived at 
 Milan, and in his Diary is the following account of St. 
 Charles and his shrine and city : — 
 
 1th June. — Milan. Duomo. I find it please me more than 
 last time, for I am less critical and observe details less. 
 
 A verger came and off"ered to show me St. Charles. Called a 
 priest custode ; we went down, very dark. The priest showed 
 me the outside. I asked to see the saint. He put me ofi"; 
 said it was exposed 8 days in the year ; that three families had 
 been that day and gone without seeing more. I asked if per- 
 mission was needed ; he said. No. Then asked whether I wished 
 
 1 Obit A.r>. 588.
 
 410 CARDINAL MANNING CHAP. 
 
 to see it. I said, Yes. He was only trying me. Then lighted 
 the tapers and let down the front and drew the crimson curtains. 
 A crystal and gold sarcophagus, hung with rings and offerings. 
 Within lay St. Charles in episcopal vestments of gold cloth and 
 the gold mitre, a pastoral staff of gold and precious stones, 
 gloves and shoes. 
 
 His height not great, rather inclining to size. The face a 
 darkened colour (having been 40 years in the earth before his 
 canonisation, in a damp place), the nose sunk, but the profile 
 like the portraits, i.e. the upper lip, mouth, chin, receding as in 
 faces with prominent nose ; the mouth rather long. The chapel 
 plated with metals, silver and silver gilt, approached by ante- 
 chapels, as St. Francis at Assisi ; open to the nave by an oblong 
 octagon, with eight lights not worthy for magnitude. Bought 
 two medals blessed by the Pope ; a portrait in embroidery done 
 after his death, like all the portraits of him, but giving colour 
 and softness. 
 
 Frederigo Borromeo lies buried in the middle of the pavement 
 at the step of the altar of B. S., N. transept. 
 
 In Milan every second house has the Italian tricolor, and 
 the churches in Fiola. 
 
 8th. — Church of S. Ambrogio. The shrine of St. Ambrose 
 with SS. Gervasius and Protasius, silver gilt, gold enamel, precious 
 stones Avrought into panel with alto relievo, life of our Lord in 
 front ; St. Ambrose at the back. Silver doors at the back ; 
 within only a porphyry slab. 
 
 Chief west door bronze, said to have belonged to the doors 
 closed by St. Ambrose against Theodosius. Then to Duomo. 
 Saw the shrine of St. Charles from above, opened and lighted 
 for some party below. 
 
 Then to Archbishop's palace. South transept door leads doAvn 
 under the piazza and street, and comes up into the second quad- 
 rangle. 
 
 In the clerestory 2 statues, St. Charles and St. Ambrose. 
 
 At the Duomo, Milan, high mass. Chapter wear — 1 scarlet, 
 2 green, 3 black with white. Four women in black and white 
 came and stood at the confessional of St. Charles. Then went 
 up with a procession to the front of the altar, and came back 
 and stood as before. One carried a small glass cruet. Query, 
 the order of widows 1 The gospel chanted from the circular 
 ambo round the pillai'. 
 
 Archdeacon Manning left Milan ou the 9 th of June. 
 The following are the concluding passages of his Diary : — 
 12tk. — The view I knew of Lucerne I could not find. It was
 
 XIX ARCHDEACON MANNING IN ROME 411 
 
 dissolved by change of position. I saw Mount Pilat, but could 
 not find the Eighi nor the site of Lucerne until we stood into a 
 bay, and the Kighi ran behind, and the long shore of green with 
 white houses ; and the bay with the town and bridge like a 
 sickle ; and the church with its two spires and Mount Pilat, and 
 the deep woodland and pasture below. The whole view of 
 my room window came together in form. The changes on the 
 lake, with many horizon lights, colours, shadows, from burning 
 sunlight to pale dove-coloured gray and faint rose tinting ; then 
 icy white, with an opaque clearness as if of driven snow, with 
 the sharp white jagged points lighting the sky. 
 
 \1th. — Fine, but cloudy. Rain at 4 to 9, evening. Started 
 from Cologne 6.30. Ostend, 9 p.m. 
 
 ISth. — Fine ; high wind. Ostend, started ^ to 10. Tarland. 
 Dover, 3.15. Christ Church; Hymn after 2nd Coll.; Train 
 6.15. London, 10.30; Cadogan Place, 14 past 11. 
 
 Toj 0ew Ao^a. 
 
 On the perusal of his Diary, so specially interesting as 
 showing the state of his mind in regard to the Church of 
 Eome, the first thought, almost, which would arise in the 
 mind of most readers is, How came it to pass that the 
 writer — setting such store, as he evidently did, on the object- 
 ive character of Catholic worship, showing such sympathy 
 with its dogmatic teaching — did not forthwith join the 
 Catholic Church ? 
 
 It is not easy for any one, but to a man of Archdeacon 
 Manning's character and cast of mind it was almost a 
 superhuman task to admit, at all events in public, that 
 he was in error ; to throw over the convictions of a life- 
 time, which had seemed based on an immovable rock ; 
 to unclothe his mind of its ancient vesture — its old 
 habits and associations and modes of thought; to stand 
 bare and barren of authority before his own people, whom 
 he loved so well, and in his own Church, where he was held 
 in such reverence. 
 
 Others, again, might raise the objection that an 
 Anglican divine of high standing and authority in his own 
 Church had no right to take such constant part in Catholic 
 worship ; more especially in that peculiar and distinctive 
 Catholic devotion for which, as his Diary shows, he felt such
 
 412 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 an attraction — the benediction of the Blessed Sacrament. 
 It must not, however, be forgotten that High Church 
 Anglicans like Archdeacon Manning, more perhaps in that 
 day than in ours, looked upon the Roman Church as the 
 elder sister of the Anglican. In Catholic countries they 
 regarded it as a primary duty not to act as if they were 
 schismatics by attending Anglican chapels abroad. By 
 hearing mass in Catholic churches on Sundays and saints' 
 days, Archdeacon Manning only discharged his duty and 
 his obligation as an Anglo-Catholic. 
 
 What, however, is most curious and worthy of note is 
 Archdeacon Manning's familiarity with priests and monks 
 and nuns, so long before his conversion. He was at home 
 in Catholic churches, a devout and edified listener to the 
 preaching friars, a reverent worshipper at mass and benedic- 
 tion, as his Diary bears ample witness. His was an almost 
 exceptional case ; except Frederick Faber and Mr. AUies,^ 
 none of the numerous converts who preceded or followed 
 John Henry Newman in the memorable exodus of 1845 
 drew their inspiration from a like source. Newman 
 himself, as he tells us, never saw a Catholic priest 
 before Father Dominic received him into the Church 
 at Littlemore, save two : one, an Italian priest who kindly 
 visited him when he lay ill at Palermo in 1833 ; and 
 Father Damien, the priest at Oxford whom Newman, when 
 he was appointed Vicar of St. Mary's, called upon and 
 
 ^ Frederick Faber, on his visit to Rome in 1843, was in constant com- 
 munication with Dr. Grant, then chaplain to Cardinal Acton, afterwards 
 Bishop of Southwark, as well as with devout priests aud learned theologians. 
 Faber had a private audience of Pope Gregory XA^I. Dr. Baggs, Rector of 
 the English College, acted as interpreter. In a letter to Rev. J. B. Morris, 
 Faber gave the following account of Pope Gregory. . . " We had a long con- 
 versation ; he spoke of Dr. Pusey's suspension for defending the Catholic 
 doctrine of the Eucharist with amazement and disgust. He said to me ' You 
 must not mislead yourself in wishing for unity, yet waiting for your Church 
 to move. Think of the salvation of your own soul. ' He then laid his hands on 
 my shoulders, and I immediately knelt down ; upon which he laid them on 
 my head and said, ' May the grace of God correspond to your good wishes, and 
 deliver you from the nets {insidie) of Anglicanism, and bring you to the true 
 Holy Church ' " {Life of F. W. Faber, by John E. Bowden, 1869, p. 196). In 
 like manner, Mr. Allies, the eminent writer, was dccjily attracted in his visits to 
 Catholic countries by the beauty, solemnity, and devotion of Catholic worship.
 
 XIX ARCHDEACON MANNING IN ROME 413 
 
 claimed as his parishioner. Oakeley told me he never saw, 
 or spoke with, a Catholic priest until he was received into 
 the Church by the Eev. Father Newsham, at the church of 
 St. Clement's, Oxford. Mozley relates that Oakeley once 
 went by accident into a Catholic chapel, and rushed out 
 in a panic on discovering where he was.^ 
 
 In this free and frequent commerce with Catholic 
 ecclesiastics — not indeed in England, where he regarded 
 the Catholic Church as an intrusive and schismatic body — 
 Manning seems to have followed, as in almost everything 
 else, a course of his own. Unlike Newman and Dalgairns 
 and Ward and Oakeley, and so many others, who went 
 over to Eome six years before he ventured to take that 
 step, the Archdeacon of Chichester had an intimate and 
 practical knowledge, as we have seen, of the working of the 
 Catholic system, such as no man — with two notable ex- 
 ceptions — outside the Church of Eome, at any rate at 
 that date, was possessed of. 
 
 In speaking of his Eoman Diary, Cardinal Manning, 
 with the quiet smile which was characteristic of him when 
 he was criticising himself, said : " It will be as hard to get 
 interest out of my Eoman Diary as to get sunshine out of 
 a cucumber." 
 
 This criticism of his own is true in the sense at least 
 that there is a singular lack of the sunshine and glow of 
 enthusiasm in his reminiscences and records of Eome — 
 the city alike of the Caesars and the Popes. In truth, he 
 seemed to be just as indifferent to the glories of Papal as of 
 Pagan Eome. In an Oxford scholar, now walking along 
 the Appian Way, now passing under the Triumphal Arch 
 of Titus, or standing at the foot of the Capitol, or gazing 
 on the vast ivy - clad (as they then were) ruins of the 
 Colosseum, one might reasonably have expected some hint 
 at least, or intimation, that he was conscious or mindful of 
 the glories and triumphs of Pagan Eome ; of a past civilisa- 
 tion, to which those ruins are still a living witness. No 
 
 ^ In Historical Notes of the Tractarian Movement, p. 112, Canon Oakeley 
 said, "I myself was never in a Catholic Church in these islands but once, 
 when I made a speedy retreat under a panic of conscience."
 
 414 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 one, indeed, should expect in such a Diary, not written for 
 publication, elaborate descriptions or profound reflections ; 
 but what we miss, in its still living presence as it were, 
 is the almost involuntary recognition of the mighty Past 
 which would naturally arise, it should seem, in the heart, 
 and find at least a passing expression in a tribute to fallen 
 greatness. 
 
 Again, to the lover of the unique beauties of Eome, 
 of its artistic glories, of the picturesque splendours of its 
 surrounding scenery, it is more than disappointing to find 
 in Archdeacon Manning's Diary little or no allusion made — 
 as if his mind were unconscious of what his eye saw — of 
 the unrivalled glories of nature or of the manifold wonders 
 of men's handiwork. But Archdeacon Manning was not 
 gifted with the poet's imagination. The beauties and the 
 splendours of Eome, natural and artistic, its historic and 
 papal grandeur and greatness, described with such touching 
 tenderness, in such vivid colours, and with such eloquent 
 enthusiasm, by Father Faber in his Sights and Thoughts in 
 Foreign Churches, were invisible to the eye, or perhaps beyond 
 the reach of Manning's imagination. A sunset on the Eoman 
 Campagna — and sunsets in Eome differ in glory from sun- 
 sets elsewhere — purple and crimson and golden, imparting 
 a glow and a glory all its own to the vast, open, almost 
 immeasurable expanse, which stretches before the eye, 
 undulating like the sea, and almost as mysterious, excited, 
 as far as the records of his Diary attest, in Manning's mind 
 no other sensation or interest than a yearning desire after 
 the spiritual welfare of the scattered and isolated inhabit- 
 ants of the vast Campagna Eomaua. The explanation of 
 this apathy, real or apparent, to all that in Eome most 
 delights the hearts of others, or attracts their eye, is to be 
 found in the declaration which Cardinal Manning had more 
 than once made to me : " From the beginning I was a priest 
 and a priest only." Not things pagan, nor artistic, nor of 
 the natural order, but spiritual things alone touched his 
 heart or interested his observant eye. 
 
 More difficult, however, of interpretation is the strange 
 silence observed in the Diary in regard to two events of
 
 XIX ARCHDEACON MANNING IN ROME 415 
 
 singular interest and importance, namely, Archdeacon 
 Manning's meeting with John Henry Newman at Rome, 
 in 1847, and his audience with the Pope. Newman had 
 but recently abandoned the Church of England. His con- 
 version had caused a singular sensation, a commotion 
 without precedent in England. Lord John Eussell spoke 
 of it as " an unaccountable event " ; Mr. Disraeli described 
 it, many years afterwards, as " a shock from which England 
 still reels." A meeting, under such circumstances, of two such 
 men — Newman preparing for the priesthood under the shadow 
 of St. Peter's, and Manning an Anglican clergyman, high 
 in office and in dignity, holding back with might and main, 
 and with all his persuasive influence, multitudes of men 
 and women — the outstanding remnant of Newman's follow- 
 ing — from entering the wide-open portals of the Catholic 
 Church — should have inspired, one would have thought, 
 something more than a curt entry, with one or two dry 
 details, in the Diary. In fact, little or no more space was 
 given to this meeting with Newman than was allotted on 
 the self-same day to the record of the weather. No 
 intimate conversation took place between these two men, 
 standing face to face, as it were, at the shrine of the 
 Apostles ; no allusions were made by either as to the past 
 and its struggles, the present with its doubts and trials, or to 
 the hopes and fears of the future. The Archdeacon of 
 Chichester was at the time in such a state of mind as 
 to be unable to define clearly his own position, far less to 
 formulate a judgment on what he dared not now call, even 
 in his own mind, Newman's " fall," as he had done in his 
 correspondence with Mr. Gladstone three years before. 
 Hence, naturally, he would not trust himself to the ex- 
 pression of an opinion on that memorable meeting, in the 
 private pages even of his own Diary. Henceforth, save 
 with one passing allusion, the name of Newman is not 
 again mentioned. 
 
 Still more unaccountable is the utter absence of any 
 record in his Diary of its writer's private audience with 
 Pope Pius IX. Not a line, not a word, not a syllable, 
 beyond the mere record of the fact, and that in the baldest
 
 416 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 form : " Audience to-day at the Vatican." The Pope's name 
 even is not mentioned ; Newman's name was not indicated 
 in the Diary further than by its initial letter. Even such 
 scant recognition was denied to Pius IX. — Pius IX. with 
 whom, and only a few years later, he was on tenns of such 
 close and intimate friendship. To a man of Archdeacon 
 Manning's antecedents, not to speak of his position in the 
 " sister Church," a private meeting, still more a long conver- 
 sation with the Pope of Eome, could not but be an occasion 
 or an occurrence of exceptional interest. Was the wise 
 and cautious archdeacon afraid that, if once committed to 
 paper, an account of his conversation with the Pope might 
 somehow or other reach suspicious ears, and arouse perchance 
 against him the clamours of a too susceptible Protestantism 
 at home ? On the other hand, it is just possible that the 
 grave and reverend Archdeacon of Chichester was disap- 
 pointed with the Pope's reception, and preferred to pass 
 over in silence what perhaps appeared to him the flippant 
 or ignorant allusions of Pius IX. to the Anglican Church. 
 The Pope, it seems, knew a great deal about Mrs. Fry and 
 the Quakers, but little or nothing about Archdeacon 
 Manning's own creed, and even less about Anglican worship. 
 His HoHness expressed his surprise on learning from the 
 archdeacon that the chalice was used in the Anglican 
 Church in the administration of Communion. " What ' " 
 exclaimed Pius IX., " is the same chalice made use of by 
 every one ? " 
 
 Such an amazed expression of surprise ; such ignorance 
 of Anglican ritual and belief on the part of the Pope, 
 unwitting of offence, may have well fallen like a douche 
 of cold water on the susceptible temper of a high Anglican 
 dignitary. Little wonder then, if such really were the case, 
 that Pius IX.'s name is omitted from the Diary, and the arch- 
 deacon's audience with the Pope reduced to a form so bald as 
 almost to be obscure.^ 
 
 1 In his "Journal," dated 1878-82— which I had not seen at the time, as 
 the above account was based only on his contemporary Diary — Cardinal 
 Manning explains the reticence about his interview with Pope Pius IX. in 
 1848 as follows : — " I remember the pain I felt at seeing how unknown we 
 were to the Vicar of Jesus Christ. It made me feel our isolation."
 
 XIX ARCHDEACON MANNING IN ROME 417 
 
 Happily Cardinal Manning made amends for the Arch- 
 deacon of Chichester's omissions, for he supplied me from 
 memory with the following brief account of his interview 
 with Pius IX. in 1848, with which I may fittingly bring to 
 a close these remarks on Archdeacon Manning's Diary : — 
 
 On May 8, 1848, was the first audience with Pius IX. 
 Sidney Herbert (Lord Herbert) had commissioned me to have 
 translated into Italian Mr. (Sir Charles) Trevelyan's pamphlet, 
 showing what the Government had done during the famine in 
 Ireland, and to present it to the Pope. I did so, having marked 
 the chief passages, which Pius IX. read. 
 
 He then said " There was a good lady who did much to reform 
 the prisons." I said Mrs. Fry, a Quaker. He then asked about 
 their tenets. Then he asked about the Anglican Church, and 
 the observance of the Sunday and the feasts. Then about the 
 communion, and how often administered. Then about "both 
 kinds," and whether it was the same chalice that was shared by 
 all. Then he spoke of the many good works done in England, 
 and added, "When men do good works God gives grace," and 
 he looked upwards and said, "My poor prayers are offered 
 every day for England." 
 
 This conversation lasted a long time, but I did not write it 
 down, and I cannot now remember more. But these points I 
 have never forgotten. 
 
 VOL. I 2 E
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 THE COMMITTEE OF PRIVY COUNCIL ON EDUCATION AND THE 
 NATIONAL SOCIETY RULES FOR SPIRITUAL LIFE IN ARCH- 
 DEACON manning's SERMONS 
 
 1849 
 
 The National Society, established for the purpose of 
 defending the Church of England's schools from an attempt 
 on the part of the State to introduce a system of secular 
 education, had long been the battle-field of rival parties in 
 the Church. After the attempts made in 1838 and 1839, 
 first, to separate secular from religious instruction ; and 
 next, to separate education from the Church, had been 
 defeated by the strenuous exertions of the clergy and 
 laity, the Committee of Council on Education entered 
 into a concordat, which was embodied in Minutes and pub- 
 lished by order of Council. This agreement, concluded in 
 1840, established a modus vivendi on the subject of education 
 between the Civil Power and the Established Church. 
 
 Under this system, it was provided that the schools, 
 aided by grants of public money, should be visited by 
 inspectors appointed by the Crown with the concurrence 
 of the Archbishops of Canterbury and York. The manage- 
 ment of the schools, however, was exempted from all inter- 
 ference on the part of the inspectors. This concordat worked 
 fairly well for a time ; but like all concordats or compromises 
 it left a side-gate open, or a weak point liable to be seized 
 upon by the enemy. The Whigs, or the irreligious party 
 in the State, on their return to Office, soon renewed their 
 attempt to tamper with the religious education of the
 
 cuAv. XX THE NATIONAL SOCIETY AND EDUCATION 419 
 
 country. It was the seed-time for the enemies of Christian 
 education, which in due course has produced the full-blown 
 Secularist party of to-day. 
 
 In the year 1846 the new attack was opened. The Com- 
 mittee of Council on Education, under Kaye-Shuttleworth 
 — the Mr. Acland of that day — was a watchful enemy and 
 sly. In the trust-deeds of newly-founded schools Clauses 
 of Management were inserted by the Committee, which 
 virtually destroyed the freedom of the School by making 
 it dependent on the State as joint-founder. The National 
 Society opposed this insidious encroachment on the part of 
 the civil power. For three years the contest continued. 
 In the National Society — though all its members were 
 pledged to resist to the utmost every attempt on the part 
 of the State to interfere with the freedom of the schools — 
 there were three parties. One party was composed of 
 those who, on principle and policy alike, offered an un- 
 compromising resistance to State interference in school 
 management. The second party consisted for the most 
 part of what were called in that day " practical men," 
 careless of principle and of future consequences, but keenly 
 alive to the advantages of State aid. Its members, if not 
 approving, were ready for peace sake to assent to the 
 Government scheme. The third party, either from character 
 or out of policy, maintained on every occasion a neutral 
 attitude, and were always more or less favourable to 
 compromise rather than run the risk of breaking with 
 Government. 
 
 In a letter to Sidney Herbert, dated Lavington, 8 th 
 October 1848, Archdeacon Manning avowed his conviction, 
 that the Church should take no share in Government 
 education, in the following terms : — 
 
 My deah Herbert — . . . What a mess Kaye-Shuttleworth 
 is making. You see that the Committee of the Privy Council 
 have refused the terms of the National Society, and I must 
 declare my hope that the Church will set to work again as in 
 1839 to do its own duty, and refuse with an absolute firmness all 
 share and entanglement in Government education. This has 
 been my one unchanging conviction for ten years. I am con-
 
 420 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 %-inced that the peace of the Church and the good of the people 
 are alike in risk if their schemes are suftered to establish them- 
 selves. Look at France.^ 
 
 The " management clauses " introduced by the Committee 
 of Council on Education provoked a renewed contest. In 
 1848, Mr, Denison, at the Annual Meeting of the National 
 Society, moved a resolution, supported by a large majority, 
 condemning in explicit terms the Government scheme. The 
 neutral party obtained an adjournment in the view of 
 bringing about a modification of the more objectionable 
 parts of the management clauses. Some slight modifications 
 were granted. Negotiations were then entered into with 
 the Government, and, in view of a compromise, concessions 
 were offered by the moderate or " practical " men, as they 
 styled themselves, of the National Society. After three 
 or four months' consideration the Privy Council rejected 
 the proposed compromise. On the breaking down of the 
 negotiations, Mr. Denison, as leader of the uncompromising 
 party in the National Society, and in the Church, opened a 
 \agorous campaign against the " management clauses." 
 
 Archdeacon Manning, likewise, took a prominent part in 
 defending the Church schools and in upholding the principle 
 that the exclusive right of educating their children belonged 
 to the parents — to the Church and not to the State. In 
 this sense he made an able and vigorous speech at a meeting 
 of the clergy at Chichester in December 1848. Divisions 
 broke out in the National Society. There was talk of 
 making a serious compromise with the Government ; but Mr. 
 Denison urged, and with success, at least for a time, that 
 there was no room for a compromise on a matter of principle. 
 
 In a desponding frame of mind in regard to the divisions 
 in the Church and its helpless state, powerless to protect 
 the cause of religious education, Manning wrote to Sidney 
 Herbert as follows : — 
 
 1 In the above letter Archdeacon Manning referred to Pope Pius IX. and 
 his fortunes as follows : — " Do you see that the Hungarians are beaten ; that 
 Austria has rejected the Anglo-French mediation, and that Mamiani is gone 
 to the wall ? Alas for our Father Pius ! When I go into winter quarters — 
 where I cannot yet say — I will fulfil my word about cathedrals."
 
 XX THE NATIONAL SOCIETY AND EDUCATION 421 
 
 Lavington, 24:th Nov. 1848. 
 
 My DEAR Herbert — ... On the subject of cathedrals I 
 have no soul to write at this moment. Our Dean and Chapter 
 have elected the unfittest man in the world as Canon, belying all 
 that I have ever hoped or said in their defence. And that at a 
 moment when the education of the Church is falling under the 
 power of the State by force of petty bribes and a low cunning. 
 
 I am, as you might divine without any gifts of exorcism, in 
 a profane state of mind. 
 
 When I look for a remedy I see the Church divided and 
 powerless. Heaven help us, for there is no help in man. — Yours 
 most affectionately, H. E. Manning. 
 
 In another letter to Sidney Herbert, Archdeacon Manning 
 made an able and uncompromising defence of right principles 
 in regard to the inherent duty of parents and pastors to 
 secure the essentially religious education of children. He 
 further in the most absolute terms condemned the Govern- 
 ment for making itself by means of the "management 
 clause " a joint-founder of schools. 
 
 An interesting explanation of his scheme about making 
 cathedrals centres of education is likewise given in the 
 following letter : — 
 
 Lavington, Ath January 1849. 
 
 My dear Herbert — ... I saw Colquhoun's proposals but 
 did not pay much attention to them, and cannot now find them 
 again. But before we come to cathedrals, I should like to say a 
 word about education. 
 
 I think the subject in a very mischievous position. 
 
 The Committee of Council and the National Society have 
 suspended their correspondence on account of disagreement. 
 
 The National Society has already gone beyond the sense of 
 the Church at large, and is in a middle position which the 
 Government will not accept nor the Church ratify. 
 
 I am afraid we shall have mischief either way. 
 
 A break with Government would be most mischievous ; only 
 less so than a giving in to them. 
 
 My belief is that the minutes of Council at this moment, if 
 accepted by the Church, will in due time transfer the whole 
 " material " of the Church education to the control of the 
 Government of the day. 
 
 This we can never yield. Unhappily, " practical men "' will 
 look at nothing but money, efficiency, and the facts of to-day.
 
 422 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 They will not examine principles, tendencies, and future conse- 
 quences. Therefoi'e some of our best men are, if not approving, 
 at least assenting parties to the Government schemes. 
 
 Now, for my own part, I am Avhere I was ten years ago. I 
 believe the education of children to be a duty inherent in parents 
 and pastors ; to be essentially religious, indivisible in its elements ; 
 incapable of a concurrent control by two heterogeneous powers. 
 The education of the people can never be in the hands of one 
 power, and the pastoral ministry of another. The State refuses 
 to build churches, found bishoprics, support missions. I am 
 more than content at its refusal. I would rather it were con- 
 sistent and would refuse to give money for Church schools 
 except upon the laws and principles of the Church. 
 
 What Government is now doing is "to make itself a, joint- 
 founder of schools on terms which the Church cannot accept 
 without ultimate injury." 
 
 The theory of " joint -foundation " will, I believe, bring us 
 into future entanglements, out of which the Church or a portion 
 of it will escape with the fortunes and portion of the weaker 
 party ; and the remainder will be secularised. Is not France 
 and Prussia warning enough? 
 
 Now 3^ou remember our conversation in Eome about making 
 the Irish cathedrals centres of education. This is my notion for 
 the English cathedrals. 
 
 My idea is — 
 
 1. That the dean and canons should hold no other benefice. 
 
 2. That they should reside nine months in every year. 
 
 3. That each canonry have a special office attached to it : 
 Being four in number — 
 
 The 1st, Principal of a diocesan college for clergy; 
 
 The 2nd, Principal of training school ; 
 
 The 3rd, Secretary to the office of diocesan education ; 
 
 The 4th, Union secretary and inspector of schools. 
 
 Now by this means a vast force not only of funds, but of 
 men, living active force, would be given to education, and the 
 work would be done because it would be the sole charge of each 
 canon. 
 
 I have given this as the full idea which perhaps may be 
 modified because probably a diocesan college and a training 
 school may not be needed in every diocese. But in that case the 
 canon might be charged with another office, such as principal of a 
 hall for general education, the students of which might graduate, 
 on the testimonial of the principal, at Oxford or Cambridge. 
 
 Our system has almost imbounded expansiveness if we had 
 only heart and life for it.
 
 XX THE NATIONAL SOCIETY AND EDUCATION 423 
 
 As to the patronage of such chapters, I think it ought to be 
 as follows : — That the canons should recommend three names to 
 the bishop, and he choose one. The reasons for this are, I 
 think, sufficient and obvious. 
 
 It was a sense of all this that made me turn sick at the late 
 election hei-e ; together with the fact that two old friends, both 
 very fit, one eminently, had been set aside for a man Avho literally 
 forsook his living for years to reside in France, and Avas forced 
 home by the bishop (I helping) to heal the scandal.^ . . . Fare- 
 well to you and a happy year. — Ever yours affectionately, 
 
 H. E. Manning. 
 
 Such a declaration by Archdeacon Manning in the above 
 letter as to the duty of the Church, and his own readi- 
 ness, to renew the battle of 1837 and 1838 in defence 
 of the absolute freedom of the School against the renewed 
 attack of the Government, would, by its outspokenness, 
 have satisfied even so uncompromising a champion of the 
 Church of England Schools as Mr. Denison. Prospects, 
 however, were not reassuring. There was disunion and 
 mutual mistrust in the National Society. The bishops 
 were moving, not to say manoeuvring, to prevent an open 
 rupture with the Government. Peace, even purchased by 
 compromise, was dear to the Episcopal heart in those days, 
 as was shown in the attitude taken up by the bishops 
 shortly afterwards in regard to the Gorham Judgment. 
 Archdeacon Manning's heart was heavy, as appears in the 
 following passage of a letter to Eobert Wilberforce : — 
 
 44 Cadogan Place, 17th January 1849. 
 
 My DEAR Egbert — ... I expect to be here till about 
 February ; and wish you would come (a& you will be invited to 
 
 ^ In a passage of the above letter Archdeacon Manning wrote as follows : — 
 "As you say, there are uneasy tokens abroad. People are for a while 
 frightened into Conservatism ; but this will not last when the eflect of the 
 foreign disorders comes to be felt in our trade, etc. I suppose this must 
 come. But I know nothing of statecraft. All that I see and hear is that 
 everybody is poor and pinched, that work is less, wages lower, and farmers 
 going to the wall. 
 
 As I am at the end of my fourth sheet I will not begin my sermon on the 
 commercial greatness of England, from the text " The prosperity of fools 
 shall destroy them." 
 
 We have never condoled about the Pope, and such a flight, so ignoble, and 
 so hasty. I doubt if he had time to take even Trevelyan's pamphlet. "
 
 424 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 do) to hold a conference about the Privy Council. At the 
 National Society all is given up. And they who ought to pro- 
 tect us are against us. I confess my heart is lower than ever 
 before. — Ever yours most affectionately, H. E. M. 
 
 If the Government was hostile, and the bishops with- 
 held their protection and support, where was help to come 
 from ? Though he repudiated with scorn the view expressed 
 by Goulburn, the ex-Chancellor of the Exchequer, as to 
 the Episcopal character and position, Archdeacon Manning 
 had no high opinion of his bishops.^ 
 
 The final battle between the rival parties in the National 
 Society took place at the Annual Meeting held in June 
 1849. The Committee was divided and lukewarm. Only 
 a few of its members were resolute in their opposition to 
 the Government scheme. An uncompromising resolution, 
 proposed by the Eev. G. A. Denison against the "Manage- 
 ment clauses " introduced by the Committee of Privy 
 Council on Education, if not in the National Society itself, 
 at the Annual Meeting, and among the High Church party, 
 out of doors, held the field. The bishops mustered in strong 
 force. Sumner, the Archbishop of Canterbury, presided 
 over the meeting. Among the twelve other bishops 
 present were Samuel Wilberforce, Bishop of Oxford, and 
 Edward Denison, Bishop of Salisbury. Bishop Wilber- 
 force, addicted alike by character and policy to com- 
 promise, was beyond measure alarmed by the danger of a 
 rupture with the Government. He knew that there was 
 not the remotest chance of inducing Mr. Denison to abate 
 his opposition to the " Management clauses," or to adopt a 
 conciliatory attitude towards the Government. His impas- 
 sioned and powerful speech in support of his Eesolution 
 seemed to carry with him the support of the majority of the 
 meeting. Were the Eesolution carried, the inevitable result 
 
 ^ In a letter about that date to Sidney Herbert, Manning wrote as 
 follows : — I had a strange conversation about a month ago with Goul- 
 burn about Church matters. He contended that money and a peerage 
 are the chief social importance of a bishop : that it is his social not his 
 spiritual character which impresses the people and serves the Church. I had 
 thought the last specimen of this race had been some time in the Britisli 
 Museum. For some years I have never seen a live one.
 
 XX THE NATIONAL SOCIETY AND EDUCATION 425 
 
 would be a breach with the Government and a schism in 
 the National Society. How were these two evils, con- 
 sidered so disastrous by the compromising party, to be 
 averted ? The first point dictated by policy was to take 
 the guidance of the meeting, even at the eleventh hour, out 
 of ]\Ir. Denison's hands. Unconciliatory in his methods, 
 and uncompromising in his line of argument, he seemed to 
 Bishop Wilberforce to court rather than shun a rupture 
 with Government on the education question. 
 
 Bishop Wilberforce knew that were he himself to 
 propose an amendment, whatever the terms might be, to Mr. 
 Denison's resolution, it would at once, from the nature of 
 the case, be regarded as a hostile move. After consultation 
 with Edward Denison, Bishop of Salisbury, and others of a 
 like mind, it was agreed that the wisest policy would be to in- 
 duce Archdeacon Manning to propose a friendly Amendment. 
 His known zeal for the freedom of religious education, his 
 open and avowed opposition to the Government control of 
 schools, would disarm the opposition — allay the fears or 
 suspicions of the uncompromising party. Bishop Wilber- 
 force knew, likewise, that his dread of a rupture with 
 Government was shared by Manning, for he had admitted, 
 as he had done to Sidney Herbert, in a letter quoted above, 
 that "a breach with Government would be most mischievous; 
 only less so than a giving in to them." 
 
 Acting under the advice or at the suggestion of Bishops 
 Wilberforce and Denison, Archdeacon Manning, shortly 
 before the close of the prolonged and heated meeting, 
 proposed an Amendment, which finally took the form of 
 a substantive Eesolution. 
 
 In the Notes of my Life, Archdeacon Denison says that 
 his heart foreboded mischief, when he saw Archdeacon 
 Manning in concert with Bishop Wilberforce and Bishop 
 Denison, busy in drawing up an Amendment. 
 
 In a speech of no little skill and adroitness, full of hope 
 and confidence, and expressing an absolute assurance that, 
 come what might, the Church of England, united in purpose 
 and of one mind in its determination to uphold the independ- 
 ance of the schools, would be as prosperous in the future
 
 426 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 as in the past in extending, with or without the assistance 
 and co-operation of the State, the work of religious education, 
 Archdeacon Manning proposed a friendly Amendment to 
 the original Eesolution. His speech, with its conciliatory 
 overtures and hopeful assurances, and its triumphant record 
 of what the Church of England had done in the cause 
 of religious education, was warmly applauded by the majority 
 of the crowded meeting. 
 
 After considerable delay caused by the discussions which 
 were going on between the different sections and parties in 
 the National Society as to the line to be taken, Mr. Denison 
 proposed certain modifications to Archdeacon Manning's 
 amendment. Bishop Wilberforce and Bishop Denison ob- 
 jected to the modifications proposed by Mr. Denison. They 
 were, however, finally accepted by Archdeacon Manning 
 and passed by the meeting. 
 
 The following are : — first. The original resolution, moved 
 by the Eev. G. A. Denison ; secondly, Archdeacon 
 Manning's amendment ; and, thirdly, the modification to 
 the amendment moved by Mr. Denison. 
 
 The Eev. G. A. Denison's Eesolution was as follows : — 
 
 That it is the opinion of this Meeting that there be intro- 
 duced in the Report now presented to the Meeting the distinct 
 expression of their dehberate judgment, that no arrangement 
 which shall involve the imposition of any Management Clause 
 whatsoever as a condition of State assistance — or any other 
 condition whatsoever (except the legal tenure of the site, and 
 the right of inspection, as defined and ascertained in 1840) can 
 be satisfactory to, or ought to be accepted by, the Church. 
 
 The following is Archdeacon Manning's Amendment : — 
 
 That this Meeting acknowledges the care and attention of the 
 Committee in conducting the correspondence pending with the 
 Committee of the Privy Council on Education, and regrets to 
 find that a satisfactory conclusion has not yet been attained. 
 Secondly, That while this Meeting desires fully to co-operate 
 with the State in promoting the education of the people, it is 
 under the necessity of declaring that no terms of co-operation 
 can be satisfactory which shall not allow to the Clergy and 
 Laity full freedom to constitute upon such principles and
 
 XX THE NATIONAL SOCIETY AND EDUCATION 427 
 
 models as are both sanctioned and recommended by the order 
 and the practice of the Church of England. 
 
 Mr. Denison's modification of Archdeacon Manning's 
 Amendment was expressed in the following words : — 
 
 And in particular, when they should desire to put the 
 management of their schools solely in the hands of the Clergy 
 and Bishops of the Diocese. 
 
 The Annual General Meeting of the National Society, 
 held on the 6th of June 1849 at the Central Schoolrooms 
 of the Society, Westminster, was densely crowded ; the 
 discussion, which was of a vigorous and excited character, 
 was prolonged from twelve o'clock to eight p.m. The 
 Archbishop of Canterbury was in the chair. There were 
 present twelve Bishops, conspicuous among whom were the 
 Bishops of Oxford and Salisbury; among the Church 
 dignitaries were Archdeacons Manning, Harrison, and 
 Allen. The attendance of the clergy was very large; 
 among them were the Eev. G. A. Denison, Kev. Dr. 
 Wordsworth, Eev. W. Dodsworth, Eev. H. Wilberforce, Eev. 
 W. Maskell. Besides a large number of Peers, among other 
 distinguished laity were Mr. Gladstone, Sir Thomas Acland, 
 and Mr. Beresford Hope. On Archdeacon Allen's rising 
 to address the meeting, the cries for Mr. Denison were so 
 loud and prolonged that the Archbishop of Canterbury 
 called upon Mr. Denison to address the meeting. Speaking 
 in support of his Eesolution, the Eev. G. A. Denison carried 
 the whole meeting with him ; he was supported by Dr. 
 Christopher Wordsworth and the Eev. Henry Wilberforce, 
 who declared that the Management Clauses brought in 
 by the Government were an attempt to introduce the prin- 
 ciple of mixed education. 
 
 Archdeacon Manning, rising towards the end of the 
 meeting, said. 
 
 It is with feelings of great reluctance and duty, under a sense 
 of imperative necessity, that I venture to rise at this late hour 
 to take part in this discussion. I find myself in the same 
 difficulty as the noble lord (the Earl of Harrowby) who spoke 
 last, — not that of being satisfied with the conclusion of the 
 correspondence, but that of being unable to support the Kesolu
 
 428 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 tion which has been proposed by the Eev. G, A. Denison. And, 
 my Lord Archbishop, before I conclude, I shall venture to 
 trespass upon your attention not only with a statement of my 
 reasons, but also by moving an Amendment. The difficulty of 
 my position is this, that while I concur in the arguments 
 advanced by my reverend friend in his speech, I cannot concur 
 in the terms of his Resolution. 
 
 After some discussion with Mr. Denison, Archdeacon 
 Manning accepted the proposed modification. To secure 
 unanimity, Mr. Denison withdrew his Resolution, declaring 
 that the principles he had advocated for two years were 
 virtually embodied in Archdeacon Manning's Amendment. 
 Bishop Wilberforce, gesticulating vehemently, called out 
 that " Mr. Denison's Resolution was defeated, not with- 
 drawn." He was overruled, and then declared that, if Mr. 
 Denison's principles were embodied in the Amendment, he 
 would vote against it. He said, "My venerable relative, I 
 fear, is making a hollow truce, introducing a unanimity in 
 words which does not in reality exist." Bishop Denison 
 made like objection to Mr. Denison's statement, that his 
 principles on Church Schools were covered by the Amend- 
 ment. If that were the case, Bishop Denison declared, he 
 could not vote for it. The meeting was impatient, the 
 hour was late, and Archdeacon Manning's Amendment now 
 put, with Mr. Denison's consent, as a substantive Resolution, 
 was carried, almost unanimously.^ 
 
 It was not so much in the principles which he enunciated 
 in addressing the meeting, that Archdeacon Manning differed 
 from Mr. Denison, as in his treatment of the Committee of 
 the National Society. Mr. Denison had denounced the 
 Committee for the betrayal of its trust, for its violation of 
 Church principles by the temporising way in which it had 
 treated the attempt on the part of the Committee of Privy 
 Council to destroy the independence of Church schools. 
 Instead of resolutely resisting the Government scheme, the 
 Committee of the National Society had deliberately entered 
 into a disastrous compromise with the Privy Council. 
 
 Archdeacon Manning, on the contrary, perhaps iu the 
 
 ^ See Report of the Meeting in the Chiardixm, June 6, 1849.
 
 XX THE NATIONAL SOCIETY AND EDUCATION 429 
 
 hope of soothing the ruffled feelings of his friends on the 
 Committee, among them Bishops Denison and Wilberforce, 
 proposed in liis Kesolution what, under the circumstances, 
 virtually amounted to a vote of confidence in the Committee 
 of the National Society. 
 
 As a natural result, the Committee pursued in the future 
 its temporising policy ; and its love or habit of compromise 
 ended, eventually, in the surrender of the Church of England 
 School to the Civil Power. 
 
 The London Church Union, of which Denison and 
 Manning were both members, had taken an active part in 
 opposing the " Management Clauses " introduced by the 
 Government. Frequent consultations were held by the 
 Council. The majority of its members warmly approved 
 of the Eesolution which the Eev. G. A. Denison had 
 determined to move at the Annual Meeting of the National 
 Society. 
 
 The Council of the London Church Union was very 
 indignant that, in contravention of the rules of the Union, 
 and without the knowledge or consent of its members, Arch- 
 deacon Manning had moved at the Annual Meeting of the 
 National Society an Amendment to a Eesolution which had 
 the sanction and approval of the Church Union. This conduct 
 was called in question at a meeting of the Council ; but at 
 the intervention of Manning's friends, especially of the Eev. 
 W. Dodsworth, the discussion was adjourned in order to 
 afford time and opportunity for explanation. The secretary 
 was directed to forward a copy of the rules of the Church 
 Union to Archdeacon Manning, and to request his attend- 
 ance at the adjourned Council meeting. 
 
 Eegarding the letter and the request for explanation in 
 the light of a censure. Archdeacon Manning, in spite of the 
 importunities of W. Dodsworth, sent in his resignation. 
 
 Fearing the effect on Manning of the action of the Church 
 Union, Dodsworth wrote the following letter: — 
 
 Saturday, 8th June. 
 
 My DEAREST Friend — I have made an ineffectual effort to 
 see you to-day, being anxious to speak to you of the feelings
 
 430 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 which are entertained in many quarters of the part which you 
 took at the National Society. Among other things it was pro- 
 posed at the Church Union yesterday {not to censure you as I 
 believe you had been inadvertently told), but to express regret 
 that you had not communicated your intention to those whom 
 you knew to be working hard in the same cause, and to whom 
 you had joined yourself in this Church Union. The view taken, 
 I think, was substantially this : That the Union had been 
 formed on a basis analogous to that of political parties, who are 
 wont to meet together to consider what plan had best be adopted 
 to effect their object, and that you, avoidng yourself to he one of 
 this party, had, without any previous communication with it, 
 brought forward at the eleventh hour an amendment which 
 placed our whole object in very great peril. I confess for myself 
 that I feel compelled to take this view of the matter. Had 
 Denison been obstinate, as we had too much reason to fear he 
 might have been, either his motion or your amendment might 
 have been carried by a bare majority, and we might have had the 
 substantial consequences of a defeat. I think this was the sub- 
 stance of the objections urged against you. The matter was 
 postponed until Friday next, as you will know, and I do hope 
 you will come and let us try by explanations and forbearance to 
 make the matter up. You ought distinctly to understand — 
 
 1. That there was no thought of restraining your liberty 
 to act as you pleased. 
 
 2. That no abstract objection was raised against your resolu- 
 tion, which I believe most of us thought to be better than 
 Denison's. 
 
 3. That there is no thought of holding you responsible to 
 the Union, except so far as we all seem to bind ourselves to 
 "unity of action," and to whatever extent by mutual communi- 
 cation it can be reached. The simple complaint alleged against 
 you is, that you did not communicate with us, and certainly 
 unless we attempt unity of action our Unions are a farce. 
 
 I have Avritten this rigmarole, because we learned from a 
 letter which Dickenson rather imprudently read, that you con- 
 template severing yourself from us. / entreat you not to do so 
 hastily. Truly, in our present state, nothing is to be so greatly 
 deprecated as disunion. Let us have time for consideration. 
 We all mean well and surely may be brought to agreement. 
 Pray do not take any step until I can see you. — Ever 
 yours most affectionately , W. D. 
 
 If Mr. Denison and the uncompromising section of the 
 National Society and the London Church Union regarded
 
 XX THE NATIONAL SOCIETY AND EDUCATION 431 
 
 Manning's successful diplomacy in averting a breach with 
 the Government and a schism in the Church party with no 
 little resentment, so prominent a Broad Churchman, belong- 
 ing to the compromising party in the National Society, as 
 the Eev. F. D. Maurice, paid a high tribute to Archdeacon 
 Manning in the following letter to Miss Hare : — 
 
 7th June 1849. 
 
 I wrote you a very sad letter yesterday under the influence 
 of the National Society meeting.^ I left it before the conclusion, 
 which I believe was in some respects more melancholy than what 
 had gone before ; but gives some hope that the schism which 
 was threatened may be averted. I said to Mr. Anderson and 
 to Priscilla, when I returned home, there was one man in that 
 room who can save the Church from its confusion if he has it in 
 his mind to do so. This was Manning. Mr. Anderson agreed 
 with me, but had some doubts about his will. However, he 
 did move an amendment which, though much stronger against 
 
 the State than I should have approved, did put an end to ,^ 
 
 and was at last passed unanimously. His power with the clergy 
 is very great, greater certainly than that of any man living.^ 
 
 ^ The following is an extract from tlie letter to Miss Hare alluded to 
 above : — 
 
 6th June 1849. 
 
 " I have been spending a most grievous five hours at the National Society 
 public meeting, listening to speeches from clergymen that it almost broke 
 one's heart to hear, and seeing demonstrations of a spirit which betokens 
 schism and destruction. Mr. Denison, who opened the debate, is a vulgar 
 Church agitator, using the most sacred phrases for claptraps, and through- 
 out confounding the right of the clergy to have their own way with 
 Church principles. . . ." — Frederick Denison Maurice's Life, vol. i. p. 544, 
 1884. 
 
 The Yen. Archdeacon Denison, I am sure, will not be offended at the 
 abuse of so vulgar an assailant. 
 
 - The Editor of F. D. Maurice's Life, in the letter to Miss Hare put a 
 
 in place of a name, obviously that of Denison. 
 
 ^ Cardinal Manning preserved in one of his Journals a copy of part of 
 the above letter, extracted from the Life of Frederick Denison Maurice, vol. 
 i. p. 545: Macmillan and Co., 1884. The conclusion of Maurice's letter, 
 addressed to Miss Hare, is as follows : — 
 
 . . . " I do hope he has a sense of the responsibility which belongs to the 
 exercise of it. I am afraid he has plenty of flatterers, but God is able 
 to make him stand. Yet I do not think he or any man can prevent an 
 ecclesiastical revolution, or ought to prevent it, unless by being the instru- 
 ment of a religious reformation. For that 1 am sure we should pray 
 earnestly, and God, I believe, is leading us on by strange ways to it."
 
 432 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 The Venerable Archdeacon Denison gives his own view 
 of the cause in dispute between the Committee of Council 
 on Education and the Church party; and in his uncom- 
 promising style and fashion passes judgment on Archdeacon 
 Manning's conduct, and speech at the National Society in 
 1849, in the following letter: — 
 
 East Brent, Bridgwater, 
 2nd February 1889. 
 
 Dear Mr. Purcell — . . . The Cardinal, then Archdeacon 
 Manning, and I met often in the Council of the London Church 
 Union. 
 
 When I began my battle in public with Committee of Council 
 on Education, he and I came into collision in 1849, for my 
 first relations ■sWth, and my judgment upon, Committee of Council, 
 never changed, only confirmed at every step. See Notes of My 
 Life, pp. 92-93 : Parker, Oxford and London, 3rd ed., 1838- 
 1845. 
 
 In 1849, when the annual meeting of the National Society 
 was, in its vast majority, ready to vote with me, my brother, the 
 then Bishop of Salisbury, and S. Wilberforce, the Bishop of Oxford, 
 put up Manning against me, and against the Church of England. 
 I have never ceased to regard that day as the beginning of the 
 surrender of the Church School into the hands of the Civil 
 Power. It is impossible for me now so long afterwards to call 
 it anything else, and the recollections cannot be otherwise than 
 very painful to me. What the Cardinal may regard the cause 
 I contended for now to be, I have no concern with, all I know is 
 that it was first by his hand that the Church School in England 
 was destroyed. 
 
 I am not, never was, or could be, a " voluntary school " man ; 
 I have never had, never can have, any connection, direct or in- 
 direct, with Committee of Council on Education since 1847. 
 I can say nothing about the " Fifty Reasons " of the Cardinal, 
 except that I could have \vished they had been published in 
 1849, instead of his speech that year at the National Society. 
 
 A "voluntary school" admitting any child under "con- 
 science clause," or any child except those baptized into the 
 Church, or preparing to be baptized, is a place from which I 
 shrink to enter or to have anything to do with. It is a building 
 ^vith the gurgoyles turned inside instead of out. — Yours very 
 faithfully, George Anthony Denison. 
 
 The tact and diplomatic skill exhibited by Archdeacon 
 Manning in the contest at the National Society in averting
 
 XX THE NATIONAL SOCIETY AND EDUCATION 433 
 
 a schism in the Church party, and a rupture with the Govern- 
 ment ; the adroitness with which he eventually succeeded in 
 taking the guidance of the meeting out of the resolute 
 and uncompromising hands of the Eev. G. A. Denison ; and 
 the rare dexterity displayed in winning over the majority 
 of the meeting to a more conciliatory policy, are not a 
 bad illustration of the gifts of ecclesiastical statesmanship, 
 possessed in a singular degree by the Archdeacon of Chichester. 
 Manning knew better than most men — better than Mr. 
 Denison — the dangers and difficulties which beset the Church 
 of England. He knew the mind of the bishops ; their 
 weakness, and worse still, their unwillingness to give offence 
 to the Government, In such a case, if matters were pushed 
 to extremes what would the result be ? There would be a 
 schism even among those pledged to the defence of religious 
 education, a split in the Church party. In such a conflict, 
 the Church of England, in Archdeacon Manning's judg- 
 ment, would lose not gain ; and its worse loss, perhaps, 
 would be a display of weakness before the enemy, and 
 the sorry spectacle presented to the world of a dis- 
 organised party, and a Church divided against itself. To 
 avert such a fatal issue would appear to an ecclesiastical 
 statesman a paramount duty. We know from his letters to 
 Sidney Herbert and Eobert Wilberforce how he shared to 
 the full the principle upheld by Mr. Denison, of the inde- 
 pendence of Church schools from the control or interference 
 of the State. Archdeacon Manning thus differed from Mr. 
 Denison not in principle, but in policy. The ecclesiastical 
 statesman — prone as such to compromise, and the uncom- 
 promising churchman, averse, on principle, to yielding an 
 inch of ground to the enemy, did not see eye to eye. 
 
 Looking at the fateful issue of things : the birth of the 
 School Board — the child of compromise — in 1871, and its 
 portentous development of evil to-day. Archdeacon Denison 
 may well pride himself on his resolute resistance to com- 
 promise on matters of religious education in every shape 
 and form. On the other hand, we must all remember with 
 pride and gratitude what fidelity to principle was shown by 
 Archdeacon Manning in resigning in 1851 all that was 
 VOL. I 2 F
 
 434 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 nearest and dearest to his heart, rather than admit the 
 supremacy of the Crown in spiritual matters. Again 
 Mr. Denison and Archdeacon Manning differed ; they were 
 both of one mind in regard to principle, as their joint 
 signatures to the famous Protest against the Gorham 
 Judgment testify, but differed in policy.^ 
 
 EuLEs FOE Spiritual Life in Archdeacon 
 ]\1anning's Sermons 
 
 If, as an ecclesiastical statesman, Archdeacon Manning 
 deemed it expedient, in order to secure the attainment of a 
 greater good for the Church he served so well, to pursue in 
 action a policy of compromise, or even to stretch a point in 
 the way of concession, just the reverse was his action as a 
 spiritual guide or teacher. 
 
 Having given a striking illustration of his policy 
 and power as an ecclesiastical statesman, of his character 
 as a peacemaker, ready, at a pinch, to sacrifice some of his 
 interior convictions or inclinations in the cause of union 
 and concord, it is not out of place, here and now, to 
 note, by way of contrast, how the arts of compromise or 
 conciliation never entered into his mind or influenced his 
 conduct as preacher or spiritual guide. In laying down 
 in his sermons the rules of spiritual life for Christian men. 
 Archdeacon Manning was a rigorist. He made no allowances 
 for special needs, for special circumstances. His rules for 
 spiritual living, for devotions, public and private, were 
 absolute. They were binding on every man who professed 
 to lead a Christian life. There were no exceptions. No 
 thought was taken or, at any rate, indicated, of the claims of 
 other duties upon the time and attention of Christian and 
 God-fearing men. Such rules of conduct, moreover, were not 
 laid down for the guidance only of the clergy, or of religious 
 communities, or of his own penitents, whose special needs or 
 opportunities Archdeacon Manning was familiar with. But 
 they were addressed in his published sermons to the world 
 at large. Like every preacher, Archdeacon Manning, per- 
 
 1 See in Note G, at the end of the Volume, Archdeacon Denison's Letter, 
 dated 9th February 1 895, on Manning and the Church of England Schools.
 
 XX RULES FOR SPIRITUAL LIFE IN HIS SERMONS 435 
 
 haps, knew that the hearers or readers of sermons don't take 
 things too much in earnest. Men are apt, and women too, 
 to apply what they hear or read not to their own souls, but 
 to the lives or conduct of their neighbours. Again, as far 
 as practical results are concerned, the words of a preacher are 
 too often like water on a duck's back. If they do no good, 
 they do no harm. On the other hand, the preacher himself, 
 intent on the beauty or perfection of his discourse, too often 
 does not clearly realise the practical effect of his teaching on 
 the minds of earnest men. He does not consider that, if 
 his teaching be exaggerated or rigoristic, he is laying a new 
 burden upon men of sensitive soul or scrupulous conscience. 
 
 The effect produced by a sermon on men's minds is the 
 only sure criterion of its value or virtue. Such a test 
 applied to some of Archdeacon Manning's sermons, not on 
 dogmatic but spiritual questions, reveals a spirit of austerity 
 or rigorism akin in character to that of the teaching of the 
 Jansenists in France. In the first half of the present 
 century many men of earnest mind and religious feeling 
 must have been brought under Manning's influence by 
 reading his sermons ; yet, as far as I know, none, not even 
 among the converts who followed him into the Church, have 
 left on record any reference to his spiritual rigorism. 
 Fortunately, one living witness can throw light on this 
 side of Manning's character as a religious teacher. Mr. 
 Gladstone is the most competent of witnesses, for, among 
 other necessary qualifications, he can bear contemporary 
 evidence. He was a constant and critical reader of the 
 sermons habitually presented to him by Manning. Mr. 
 Gladstone looked into the mouth even of a gift horse, for 
 he knew that if the giver did not seek criticism, he would 
 not resent it. Eegarding him in the light of an authorised 
 teacher, whose rules for spiritual life he was bound as a 
 Christian man to accept, Mr. Gladstone was so earnest and 
 conscientious as to be prepared to sacrifice his political 
 career rather than not fulfil the rule of life declared by 
 Archdeacon Manning in his sermons to be the duty of 
 every Christian man. 
 
 In the following letter Mr. Gladstone grapples character-
 
 436 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 istically with the difficulty presented by Manning's teaching 
 to a man engaged like himself in public life, apparently 
 without a suspicion that his revered teacher was himself 
 in error in his moral theology. 
 
 My dear Manning — I write respecting your sermons, and 
 in their bearing on myself I have read this morning with 
 delight, and I hope not without profit, those numbered xvi.-xviii. : 
 certainly with great sympathy and concurrence as to all prin- 
 ciples and general positions, except that I do not know your 
 justification for the passage in p. 347, beginning " it were 
 rather true to say." I write however rather for confession 
 than for criticism. 
 
 You teach that daily prayers, the observance of fast and 
 festival, and considerable application of time to private devotion 
 and to Scripture ought not to be omitted, e.g. by me ; because, 
 great as the difficulty, the need is enhanced in the same propor- 
 tion, the balance is the same. 
 
 You think very charitably that ordinary persons, of such who 
 have a right general intention in respect to religion, give an 
 hour and a half (pp. 352-3) to its direct duties ; and if they 
 add attendance at both daily services, raising it to three, you 
 consider that still a scanty allowance (p. 355), while some sixteen 
 or seventeen are given to sleep, food, or recreation. 
 
 Now I cannot deny this position with respect to the increase 
 of the need ; that you cannot overstate ; but I think there are 
 two ways in which God is wont to provide a remedy for real 
 and lawful need, one by augmenting supply, the other by inter- 
 cepting the natural and ordinary consequences of the deficiency. 
 I am desirous really to look the question full in the face ; and 
 then I come to the conclusion, that if I were to include the 
 daily service now in my list of daily duties, my next step ought 
 to be resignation. Let me describe to you what has been at 
 former times, when in London and in office, the very narrow 
 measure of my stated religious observances ; on week days I 
 cannot estimate our family prayer, together with morning 
 and evening prayer, at more than three quarters of an hour, even 
 if so much. Sunday is reserved with rare exceptions for religious 
 employments ; and it was my practice, in general, to receive the 
 Holy Communion weekly. Of daily services, except a little 
 before and after Easter, not one in a fortnight, perhaps one in a 
 month. Different individuals have different degrees of facility 
 in supplying the lack of regular devotion, by that which is 
 occasional ; but it is hard for one to measure the resource in 
 his own case. I cannot well estimate, on the other hand,
 
 XX RULES FOR SPIRITUAL LIFE IN HIS SERMONS 437 
 
 the amount of relaxation which used then to occur to me. 
 Last year I endeavoured in town to apply a rule to the 
 distribution of my hours, and took ten for sleep, food and 
 recreation, understanding this last word for whatever really 
 refreshes mind or body, or has a fair chance of doing so. 
 Now my needs for sleep are great : as long as I rise feeling 
 like a stone, I do not think there is too much, and this 
 is the general description of my waking sense, in office and 
 during the session ; but I consider seven and a half hours 
 the least I ought then to have, and I should be better with 
 eight. I know the old stories about retrenching sleep, and 
 how people are deceived themselves : with me it may be so, but 
 I think it is not. 
 
 I have never summed up my figures, but my impression is 
 that last year, upon the average, I was under and not over the 
 ten for the particulars named, I should say between nine and 
 ten. But last year was a holiday year as to pressure upon mind 
 and body, in comparison with those that preceded it. Further, 
 people are very different as to the rate at which they expend 
 their vigour during their work ; my habit, perhaps my misfortune, 
 is, and peculiarly with work that I dislike, to labour at the very 
 top of my strength, so that after five or six hours of my office, 
 I was frequently in a state of great exhaustion. How can you 
 apply the duty of saving time for prayer out of sleep and recre- 
 ation to a man in these circumstances ? Again, take fasting. 
 I had begun to form to myself some ideas upon this head ; but 
 I felt, though without a positive decision to that effect, that I 
 could not, and must not, apply them if I should come again into 
 political activity. I speak now of fasting in quantity, fasting in 
 nutrition ; as to fasting in quality, I see that the argument is even 
 strengthened, subject only to the exception that in times of 
 mental anxiety, it becomes impossible to receive much healthy 
 food with which a sound appetite would have no difficulty. 
 The fact is undoubted ; it is extremely hard to keep the bodily 
 frame up to its work, under the twofold condition of activity in 
 office and in Parliament. I take it then, that to fast in the 
 usual sense would generally be a sin, and not a duty — I make a 
 little exception for the time immediately preceding Easter, 
 as then there is a short remission of parliamentary duties. I 
 need not perhaps say more now. You see my agreement with 
 you, and that I differ, it may be, where the pinch comes upon 
 myself. But I speak freely in order to give scope for opposite 
 reasoning — in order that I may be convicted if possible, as then 
 I hope also to be convinced. 
 
 There is the greatest difference, as I find, between simple
 
 4:38 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 occupation, however intense, and occupation with anxiety as its 
 perpetual accompaniment. Serious reading and hard writing, 
 even for the same number of hours that my now imminent 
 duties may absorb, I for one can bear without feeling that I am 
 living too fast ; but when that one element of habitual anxiety 
 is added, nature is spurred on beyond her pace under an exces- 
 sive burden, and vital forces waste rapidly away. I should be 
 more suspicious of myself than I now am in the argument I have 
 made, were it not that I have had experience of occupation in 
 both forms, and know the gulf betAveen them. I ought to have 
 added the other sting of official situations combined with Parlia- 
 ment. It is the sad irregularity of one's life. The only fixed 
 points are prayers and breakfast in the morning, and Sunday at 
 the beginning of the week. It is Sunday, I am convinced, that 
 has kept me alive and well, even to a marvel, in times of 
 considerable labour, for I must not conceal from you, even though 
 you may think it a sad bathos, that I have never at any time 
 been prevented by illness from attending either Parliament or 
 my ofiice. The only experience I have had of the dangers from 
 which I argue, in results, has been in weakness and exhaustion 
 from the brain downwards. It is impossible for me to be thankful 
 enough for the exemption I enjoy, especially when I see far 
 stronger constitutions, constitutions truly Herculean, breaking 
 down around me. I hope I may be preserved from the guilt 
 and ingratitude of indulging sensual sloth, under the mask of wise 
 and necessary precautions. 
 
 Do not trouble yourself to write at length, but revolve these 
 matters in the casuistical chamber of the mind ; and either 
 before or when we meet, give me an opinion which, I trust, Mall 
 be frank and fearless. There is one retrenchment I could make, 
 it would be to take from activity outwards in matters of religion, 
 in order to give it to prayer. But I have given it a misdescriji- 
 tion. What I could economise is chiefly reading; but reading now- 
 adays I almost always shall have to resort to, at least so it was 
 before, by way of repose. Devotion is by far the best sedative to 
 excitement ; but then it requires great and sustained exertion (to 
 speak humanly, and under the supposition of the Divine grace), 
 or else powerful external helps, or both. Those mere dregs of the 
 natural energies, which too often are all that occupation leaves, 
 are fit for little beyond passivity ; only fit when not severe. 
 
 Reading all this, you may the more easily understand my 
 tone sometimes about public life as a whole. 
 
 Joy to you at this blessed time, and at all times. Your 
 affectionate friend, W. E. Gladstone. 
 
 Ven. H. E. Manning.
 
 XX RULES FOR SPIRITUAL LIFE IN HIS SERMONS 439 
 
 Such a letter as the above illustrates iu the most forcible 
 manner the anomaly of giving minute spiritual directions 
 from the pulpit. The preacher must needs be ignorant of 
 the spiritual needs of the majority of his hearers or readers. 
 It is not prudent, scarcely even safe, for a preacher to go 
 beyond general rules. The moment he attempts to exercise 
 the office of spiritual director in the dark, as it were, he 
 resembles a physician who should attempt to prescribe for 
 a patient without a diagnosis of the case. 
 
 Later in life, as a Catholic, Cardinal Manning recognised 
 the danger of a preacher usurping the office of a spiritual 
 director of souls. In one of his autobiographical Notes he 
 confesses that as an Anglican he had treated subjects in the 
 pulpit which properly belonged to the confessional. 
 
 In his Catholic life, as preacher, as director of souls. 
 Manning was the reverse of a rigorist. He had studied in 
 the school of S. Alfonso Liguori, and entertained a just 
 abhorrence, on the one hand, of the exaggerated or false 
 spirituality sometimes to be met with in French books of 
 devotion ; and on the other, of the rigorism of Jansenistic 
 writers.
 
 CHAPTEK XXI 
 
 LIFE AND HOME AT LAVINGTON 
 1833-1851 
 
 Of Archdeacon Manning's mode and manner of life in his 
 pleasant home at Lavington kindly reminiscences are still 
 retained by the few surviving friends who knew and loved 
 him in those far-off days. Of his early married life, beyond 
 what I have already related, there is little or nothing to be 
 told. It was a life of happy seclusion and of active work 
 in the parish. Parish and home he left but on rare occa- 
 sions. To his home few visitors were invited or admitted. 
 Even such an intimate friend as S. F. Wood, who more than 
 once intimated his desire of visiting Lavington, does not 
 appear to have had his wish gratified. Mr. Gladstone never 
 met the rector's wife ; for in one of his letters to Manning, 
 dated 20th February 1837, a few months before her death, 
 Mr. Gladstone wrote : " I do not yet know your lady, but I 
 am sure I may be excused for hoping she is as happy in her 
 health as in her husband." Manning's letters to his wife's 
 mother are preserved ; they bear ample witness to the sorrows 
 of his widowed heart and the loneliness of his after-life at 
 Lavington. 
 
 Henry Wilberforce, vicar of East Farleigh, and his wife, 
 Mrs. Manning's sister, and Mr. and Mrs. John Anderdon, were 
 occasional visitors at Lavington ; and so were Mr. Frederick 
 Manning and Edmunda, his wife. But Mrs. Austen, the 
 last survivor of the family of eight, who was absent, I think, 
 from England at that time, never saw Mrs. Henry Manning. 
 There was, liowever, a pleasant and all-sufficing home circle
 
 CHAP. XXI LIFE AND HOME AT LAVINGTON 441 
 
 in those days at Lavington. Mrs. Sargent, the mother of 
 John Sargent, the late rector, the great lady of the parish, 
 lived at the Manor House, and received frequent visitors. 
 Samuel Wilberforce and his wife often came to Graffham 
 Eectory on a visit to Mrs. John Sargent, his wife's mother. 
 She was the life and soul of the place, beloved of all 
 the family, which consisted in these early days of her 
 four married daughters and their husbands, the two 
 Wilberforces, Samuel and Henry, and Manning, and Eev. 
 George Dudley Kyder. Mrs. Carey, Manning's half-sister, 
 resided at that time at Lavington. Later on, after his 
 wife's death, and after he became archdeacon. Manning 
 took up his winter quarters at her house in London, 
 44 Cadogan Place, familiar to us as the address of so many 
 of his letters. 
 
 On the death of Manning's wife, Mrs. John Sargent, as 
 she had promised her daughter on her death-bed, " took care 
 of Henry." She kept house for him, consoled and comforted 
 him in every way. By her kindness of heart and cheerful 
 disposition she made for Manning his widowed home less 
 sombre and solitary. Attachment to places was a new feel- 
 ing imparted to Manning's nature by affection for his wife's 
 home. In one of his journals is the following entry under 
 the date July 1838 : — " Till the last six months I have 
 never known what it is to have irresistible local affection. 
 Once a little self-denial would make all places alike ; for all 
 that makes one place differ from another would have followed 
 me like a shadow. Now, there is only one place unlike all 
 others, and that is unchangeable." 
 
 Mrs. John Sargent lived at the Eectory of Lavington 
 from 1837 to 1841, when, on the death in that year of her 
 eldest daughter, the wife of Samuel Wilberforce, his sorrow- 
 ing and affectionate mother-in-law discharged with touching 
 sympathy the like kindly offices for him, as she had done for 
 Manning, until death broke the bond. 
 
 Graffham Eectory was the home of Manning's curate. 
 From 1847 till his conversion in 1851 it was occupied by 
 Laprimaudaye, his wife, and family. The present rector of 
 Lavington, the Eev. Eowley Lascelles, lives at Graflliam
 
 442 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 Rectory. Manning's old home at Lavington is now a private 
 residence. 
 
 Mrs. Byles and her daughter were residents for a long 
 period at Lavington, and were on friendly and intimate 
 terms with the rector. They occupied the Manor House after 
 the death of Mrs. Sargent in 1841. Miss Byles is described, 
 by one who remembers her well at the time, as being very 
 pretty and very busy, flitting about, after the fashion of pious 
 young Anglican ladies, the church and rectory. On Manning's 
 conversion, Miss Byles, like so many other of his friends, 
 also became a Catholic. There was an active correspond- 
 ence kept up — for Manning was the most interesting and 
 copious of letter- writers — but these letters, after the death 
 of Mrs. Coventry Patmore (for Miss Byles had been long 
 married to the well-known poet), were returned by her 
 husband to Cardinal Manning. 
 
 After his appointment as archdeacon. Manning was in 
 the constant habit of visiting London. Indeed, owing to 
 his state of health he was frequently unable during the cold 
 or damp weather to live at Lavington, and took up his 
 winter quarters at his sister's house in Cadogan Place. His 
 curate was indefatigable in looking after the parish work 
 during the archdeacon's absence. In the summer months 
 Manning's friends from London were frequent visitors at 
 Lavington. Passages like the following often occur in his 
 letters : " I must break off abruptly, my dear archdeacon, 
 for a carriageful of people from London has just arrived." 
 This was in a letter to Archdeacon Hare. Again, in a letter 
 to his mother, " Last week I had a houseful. Among 
 others the present master of Trinity and Mrs. Whewell." A 
 great divine like Keble found his way to Lavington, and 
 so in later years did " Father " Carter of Clewea."^ P. L). 
 Maurice in company with Trench, after a visit"" to Arch- 
 deacon Wilberforce at Alverstoke, spent a few days with 
 Manning. In one of his letters, F. D, Maurice speaks 
 with delight of the agreeable times he spent at Lavington. 
 Dean Hook, before 1848, was also an occasional visitor. 
 Bishop Phillpotts of Exeter, at the time of the Gorham 
 Judgment, was about paying a visit, but was prevented.
 
 XXI LIFE AND HOME AT LAVINGTON 443 
 
 Eobert Wilberforce came sometimes for a quiet day, and 
 Henry Wilberforce for a week or more. Mrs. Charles 
 Manning and her young family, to whom the archdeacon was 
 deeply attached, were constant guests in later years at the 
 rectory. Mr. Gladstone, I believe, never visited Lavington. 
 
 Then, again, besides those who came to enjoy the social 
 amenities of Lavington, men came down or were brought 
 down to be rescued by the persuasive tongue or determined 
 hand of the archdeacon from " going over to Eome " in 
 those disturbed days, when so many were following the 
 example of J. H. Newman. Mr. Kichmond told me of a 
 friend of his, a stockbroker and a man of high culture 
 (who was in the habit of reading to him of a morning 
 whilst at work at the easel), being very perplexed in mind 
 about the doctrine of the Eucharist. He had also some 
 eccentric notions about marriage, and the duty of men to 
 cultivate love for their wives. " There are other men," 
 exclaimed Mr. Eichmond, laughing, " besides Mr. John 
 Giles's sect who love their wives." At last, Mr. John Giles 
 avowed his intention of seeking instruction in the Catholic 
 Church. Alarmed, as they well might be, his friends took 
 counsel together, and sent him down to Lavington. Man- 
 ning, without a day's delay, carried poor John Giles off to 
 the Bishop of London, who confirmed him and administered 
 communion. 
 
 In after years, when Manning was a Catholic, " he was 
 continually nibbling," as Mr. Eichmond described it, "after 
 John Giles ; but he was too wise a man to come witliin 
 Manning's reach." Cardinal Manning remembered the inci- 
 dent. He said, "Yes, I remember poor John Giles very 
 well ; he was a good man ; he was afraid of me." 
 
 In 1844, Archdeacon Manning sat for his portrait to Mr. 
 Eichmond. Towards the close of his Anglican life, when he 
 had his portrait reproduced in numerous engravings as part- 
 ing gifts, the archdeacon called it a post mortem for the 
 friends he was about to leave behind him in the Church of 
 England. 
 
 "The sittings were most delightful," Mr. Eichmond said, "for 
 Manning was always full of charming talk, and had always ready
 
 444 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 at hand an appropriate anecdote or legend. I remember once 
 complaining of being much annoyed by a terrible hammering that 
 was going on outside my studio. Manning thereupon related a 
 charming legend about angels beating out gold for the piurpose 
 of making saddles of gold and golden stirrups. I think it was 
 — but I really quite forget now, for it is nearly fifty years ago — 
 yet I think it was for the horses which were to bear Elias in the 
 chariot of fire to heaven. At any rate for years afterwards," he 
 added, " whenever I was disturbed by the noise of hammering I 
 always remembered Manning's legend, and my nerves were 
 soothed." 
 
 Mr. Eichmond, who well remembers Manning in his 
 Lavington days, described him as looking very ascetic and 
 austere. " Once," he added, " on going down to Lavington 
 on a fine day in June, I found big fires in every room. He 
 was very abstemious; ate and drank little, but fed on fire." 
 
 Mr. Gladstone once mentioned, in illustration of Manning's 
 social successes, not in London only, but in such a prim and 
 precise place as Chichester, that he was on friendly terms 
 with his three bishops in succession, though men of such 
 opposite views as Otter, Shuttleworth, and Gilbert ; " his tact 
 and conciliatory manners enabled him to overcome all 
 obstacles or turn aside prejudices. In like manner," added 
 Mr. Gladstone, " as archdeacon. Manning won the goodwill 
 of the clergy, over the heads of many of whom, his seniors 
 in years, he was promoted at so early an age." In a letter 
 to Archdeacon Manning Mr. Gladstone in congratulation 
 wrote : — 
 
 I see you have been at your old tricks again ; for from your 
 bishop's letter to Wyndham I perceive you have succeeded in 
 poisoning the mind of three Bishops of Chichester in succession. 
 
 His first bishop. Dr. Edward Maltby, however, did not 
 " know Joseph " ; in his day, the young rector of Lavington 
 was too modest or prudent to put himself forward. Under 
 the rule of three succeeding bishops, however, Manning was 
 a welcome guest at Chichester Palace. His social success 
 not only in the palace of bishops, but in the homes of the 
 lower clergy, was due, in no small measure, to his invari- 
 able habit of seeking in conversation points of agreement,
 
 XXI LIFE AND HOME AT LAVINGTON 445 
 
 carefully passing over points of difference. His quiet humour 
 helped him over many a difficulty ; and his kindly manner 
 aided in creating or in confirming a pleasant impression. 
 In society he was always cheerful and talked well, and his 
 anecdotes, whether old or new, had the rare merit of being 
 well told. If he made fewer friends than his effusive and 
 fascinating brother-in-law. Bishop Wilberforce — whose heart, 
 whether steeped in honey or gall, was ever in his mouth 
 — Manning, with tongue well under control, made fewer 
 enemies or none. 
 
 Building was one of Archdeacon Manning's pleasant 
 occupations : he pulled down and rebuilt both Lavington and 
 Graffliam churches. He was an admirer of Gothic archi- 
 tecture, but an amateur architect runs grave risks from 
 which Manning's pious intentions did not save him. To a 
 critical friend of Gothic tastes, to whom he was showing 
 Graffliam church, Manning said " See how an Archdeacon 
 with best intentions can spoil a church." The stained glass 
 windows were so narrow and placed so high that the church 
 was almost shrouded in darkness. On dull days it had in 
 consequence to be artificially lighted. Lavington church 
 survives — the sole memorial of Manning's architectural 
 handiwork. Graffham church was pulled down and rebuilt 
 in after years as a Memorial Church to Bishop Wilber- 
 force. The church of West Lavington, in which Cobden 
 and some other notabilities are buried, was built by the 
 munificence of Laprimaudaye who, before the church was 
 completed, became a Catholic, but he did not like to revoke 
 his promised gift and made over the church to the Bishop 
 of Chichester. 
 
 Manning was fond of horses, and no bad judge of horse- 
 flesh ; he was always well mounted. He used frequently 
 to ride from Lavington to Chichester in autumn or summer 
 in discharge of his official or social duties ; to visit his 
 bishop's wife, or transact business with the bishop ; or to 
 take an early chop dinner with his old friend Dean Chandler, 
 and chat over diocesan matters ; or, in the event of an inter- 
 regnum between the death of one bishop and the appoint- 
 ment of another, to learn the latest news, or to listen to the
 
 446 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 gossiping hopes or fears which, in a cathedral town on 
 such solemn occasions, are but too apt to disturb the other- 
 wise placid souls of church dignitaries. 
 
 On the occasion of one of these visits to Chichester, 
 putting up at a hotel, Manning overheard from his dressing- 
 room window a dispute between two ostlers in the yard 
 below as to the merits of a certain horse which was to run 
 in the next Lewes races. At last one of the men cried out, 
 " I have it ; go up stairs and ask the archdeacon ; he be the 
 best judge of horseflesh in the county," 
 
 The handsome pair of horses in the hooded phaeton in 
 which he used to drive to distant parts of the archdeaconry 
 gave warrant of his sound judgment, as their well-groomed 
 condition did of his love and care for horses. Manning was 
 fond, too, of cats and dogs. The cats of Lavington were of 
 special beauty. A year or two before his death, S. F. Wood 
 wrote : — 
 
 I want one of the Lavington cats, as a memorial of the place, 
 for my chambers in the Temple ; please, to use your own 
 favourite expression, "bear this in miTid." 
 
 In a letter to his mother, to whom it would seem he was 
 more in the habit of promising visits than of paying them, 
 Manning wrote about a misfortune which had befallen " his 
 larder," as follows : — 
 
 I have been twice lately to Dale, and John Abel has presented 
 me with two dogs, one the most beautiful Scotch terrier you can 
 conceive, ragged to the last notion of raggedness. INIy larder 
 was cleared out some weeks ago, and these he gave me to keep my 
 wittles safe ; Charles and Catherine have also given me a puppy ; 
 so that I can both understand what the saying means " it never 
 rains but it pours," and also " it rains cats and dogs." ... I must 
 tell you that my poor little cat is dead. She wasted away ; and 
 then went somewhere to die, and has never been found. 
 
 There are, indeed, but few to-day who knew Manning's 
 habits of life at Lavington, and survive to tell the tale ; or 
 who remember those minor details, those personal habits, 
 which in the lives of its great men the world likes to hear 
 of. The son of Manning's much-beloved friend and curate.
 
 XXI LIFE AND HOME AT LAVINGTON 447 
 
 Captain Laprimaudaye, who at an earlier date had kindly sent 
 me, for the purposes of a biography, six interesting letters 
 addressed to his father by Manning — favoured me at my 
 special request with the following recollections of the arch- 
 deacon at Lavington. It is a lively and graphic account of 
 the impressions left on his mind, when, as a boy. Captain 
 Laprimaudaye was in the habit either of staying at, or 
 making frequent visits to, Lavington, 
 
 Forest Cottage, Three Bridges, 
 Sussex, 7th April 1892. 
 
 My dear Sir — As for my own recollections of the Cardinal, 
 they go back to my visits to the Archdeacon of Chichester, when 
 my father was his curate from 1847 to 1851. He then resided 
 at Lavington, which was called the rectory, and the curate at 
 Graflfham. 
 
 Now Graffham is the house of the rector, and the late arch- 
 deacon's house is a private residence. 
 
 I remember the introduction in the service of many customs 
 then looked upon as decidedly High Church — intoning, Gregorian 
 chants, flowers, etc. Especial attention and care were paid by the 
 archdeacon to the village choir. The boys were admitted to 
 this with a good deal of ceremony, and not without due pro- 
 bation and evidence of good character. In fact, it may be said 
 that all these matters were looked into more closely by the 
 archdeacon than was customary at that time. His plain country 
 sermons were a marvel ; and as one of my youthful exercises 
 consisted in writing a synopsis of them from memory, their 
 eloquent simplicity, so suited to rustic minds, made a great im- 
 pression on me. During my school holidays later, I constantly 
 saw him. He was an excellent rider, and frequently took me 
 out with him for rides across the beautiful downs. His slim 
 spare figure, in the breeches and gaiters of the Anglican dignitary, 
 looked exceedingly well on horseback. He was also a good 
 skater, as I well remember from his having given me many a 
 helping hand in my early efforts on the ice. I do not ever 
 remember seeing him drive, but he had a capital pair of gray 
 horses driven in a hooded carriage of the old-fashioned type, the 
 hood being closed if required with a glass shutter, something like 
 the hansom cab of to-day. I was struck by his having a lamp 
 in it for reading purposes, so as to Avaste no moments of his long 
 winter drives, — at that time Godalming was our nearest railway 
 station going North. I have no doubt whatever that many
 
 448 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 other, and more interesting, reminiscences of those times have 
 been supplied yoiz, but I merely mention what at this long 
 distance of time comes to my mind. 
 
 Generally, the trait in him which made, I think, most im- 
 pression on me, was a sort of quiet merriment, as though he 
 enjoyed and appreciated anything humorous or laughable, with- 
 out the hearty and boisterous accompaniment seen in others, less 
 reserved. But the merriment was there. He delighted in the 
 quaint old Sussex expressions ; and I used constantly to hear him 
 quoting them with appreciation. — Believe me, very truly yours, 
 
 C. H. Laprimaudaye. 
 
 Troubles connected with the Church of Eome invaded 
 the sacred precincts of Lavington, and by affecting his near 
 relatives vexed the soul of the rector. The first of them to 
 leave the English Church was Sophia, his late wife's youngest 
 sister, and George Eyder. The Eev. George Dudley Eyder 
 was a disciple of Newman's, and after many months of 
 prayer and deliberation submitted to the Church. From the 
 tone of the following entry in his Diary this conversion 
 seems to have taken Manning by surprise. 
 
 May 1846. — To-day I heard that George and Sophia have 
 joined the Eoman Church. It seems incredible. There is no 
 good in saying that it is a headlong affair. So it is, but that 
 will not undo it. 
 
 Whether the Church of Eome be right or no, I feel that this 
 way of joining it is wrong. 
 
 Now, how does it bear on us 1 
 
 Her poor mother, with all the recollections of past years, and 
 the separation hereafter — never again to pray together, or to kneel 
 at the altar, the only communion being the Lord's Prayer, 
 
 It is more like death than anything else. What does He 
 mean us to learn by it 1 
 
 To be just, fair, and gentle towards the Church of Eome. I 
 have often thought that it is in this way that He purposes to 
 turn our hearts to each other. 
 
 Certainly the converts have a truer intellectual apprehension. 
 
 Another trouble of a like kind is recorded in the follow- 
 ing passage under date 6th August 1846 : — 
 
 I have to-day seen Mrs. Lockhart for the first time since she 
 joined the Eoman Church ; a most painful interview. 
 
 I avoided all discussion, and said all I wished was to say
 
 XXI LIFE AND HOME AT LAVINGTON 449 
 
 nothing inconsistent Avitli sincerity and charity. She said of her 
 daughter, " It is not you, but she will not live with me." What 
 strikes me is — 1. Her inability to realise the effect of what she 
 has done on others — Keble, her father, Miss Lockhart. 2. Her 
 want of consideration and tenderness for Miss Lockhart. 3. Her 
 great want of gentleness and meekness. Surely the greater 
 truth the greater charity. The true Church ought to teach the 
 Sermon on the Mount. 4. Her reckless, cruel, assaulting way 
 of speaking and acting. 
 
 In this entry in his Diary there are traces of one of 
 those Berserker rages ^ which sometimes swept like a storm- 
 wind over his soul ; otherwise Archdeacon Manning would 
 scarcely have accused Mrs. Lockhart of speaking and acting 
 in a reckless, cruel, assaulting way. Had she, perhaps, 
 again roused his ire by expressing a doubt of the validity 
 of Anglican orders, as she had done a short time before 
 whilst still an Anglican ? On the occasion of the arch- 
 deacon's last visit to her at Chichester " Mrs. Lockhart had 
 ventured to say, ' But, Mr. Archdeacon, are you quite sure 
 of the validity of Anglican orders ? ' His answer was 
 astonishingly curt and decided, ' Am I sure of the existence 
 of God ? ' adding, ' You are a good deal too like your dear 
 son.' " - Of this " dear son," when he was received into the 
 Church, Manning had said to Mrs. Lockhart, " I would 
 rather follow a friend to the grave than hear he had taken 
 such a step." 
 
 So harsh a statement made to a mother only shows 
 Manning's supreme dread or horror of his own friends or 
 relations or penitents going over to Rome. He seemed to 
 take such a step on their part almost as a personal affront ; 
 looked upon it as if it were a liberty " to go over to Eome " 
 without his consent. It was not as if he himself felt no 
 attractions to Eome, or had no doubts and difficulties about 
 the Church of England. 
 
 On the reverse side of the page in his Diary containing 
 
 ^ Mauuing's last surviving sister, speaking of what was known in the 
 family as "Berserker rages," said; "We were all quick, but I think dear 
 Henry was the least quick of any of us." 
 
 2 "Personal Reminiscences of Cardinal Manning." William Lockhart, 
 Dublin Review, April 1892, p. 378. 
 
 VOL. I 2 G
 
 450 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 the entry about JMrs. Lockhart is the followiug state- 
 ment : — 
 
 The Church of England, after 300 years, has failed — 1, in 
 the unity of doctrine ; 2, in tlie enforcement of discipline ; 3, in 
 the training of the liigher life. 
 
 The entry about Mrs. Lockhart was dated 6th August 
 1846 ; the one above, 4th August 1846. 
 
 Under date otli July 1846, is a passage which I have 
 quoted elsewhere about the drawing of Eome, and how it 
 satisfied the whole of his intellect, sympathy, sentiment, 
 and nature. Why then, under such circumstances, with 
 such a drawing in his own soul to Eome, should he declare 
 that he would rather follow a friend to the grave than hear 
 that he had gone over to Eome ? 
 
 Such harsh statements were not the deliberate and real 
 expressions of Manning's heart and mind. They were 
 thrown off in the heat of the moment. To the lonely man, 
 thrown now and again by some untoward occurrence, by 
 contradiction, or the balking of his will, into an excited 
 state of feeling, or into downright anger, pacing to and fro 
 in the long library at Lavington, his Diary was a safety- 
 valve. Expression was a relief to his pent-up feelings. In 
 his usual moods he was too kind and gentle by nature, and 
 too loving of heart, deliberately to wound the feelings of 
 others. 
 
 It is a real consolation to know that so sensitive a man, 
 so quick of temper, was not often troubled at Lavington 
 by visits or conversations which irritated his nerves some- 
 times to such a degree as to make him lose self-control. 
 
 A few days after Mrs. Lockhart's reproaches that Keble 
 would not permit her daughter, who belonged to an 
 Anglican sisterhood under his direction, to live at home, 
 Keble himself came to Lavington to take counsel with 
 Manning as to the retention, against her mother's wish, of 
 Miss Lockhart in the sisterhood. 
 
 What course Manning advised Keble to pursue is not 
 recorded.^ The Diary only mentions the fact that " Keble 
 
 ^ Miss Lockhart remained in the Anglican Church for five 3'ears after her
 
 XXI LIFE AND HOME AT LAVINGTON 451 
 
 was here last night and to-day. What strikes me most is 
 his profound humility and real reverence." 
 
 Manning's life at Lavington was rewarded with spiritual 
 consolations in the work which he achieved in his parish. 
 In visiting the poor, the sick, and the dying, his kindness 
 and constant attention to their temporal as well as spiritual 
 wants won the hearts of men to God. And Manning had 
 the consolation of believing that his prayers on their behalf 
 on occasions received a direct answer. The following is an 
 example : — 
 
 Palm Sunday, 28th March 1847. — On Friday evening John 
 Ayling came to me. I could not see him. 
 
 That morning I had prayed in sacro for his conversion, and 
 sent him my alms, and a warning. 
 
 I thought my curate must have been to him. This morning 
 my curate told me he had not, and that the man had come to 
 me of his own will. Now, the day before there had been a dis- 
 tribution, which may have wrought on him. 
 
 Otherwise, I see nothing but a divine cause in answer to 
 prayer, as on that last Monday. 
 
 These things are wonderful ! 
 
 Suppose the secondary cause I have suggested. Still why 
 now, and not before? The same events have happened often in 
 the last six months. 
 
 The very day of my prayer is not to be explained away. 
 
 In the following passage of his Diary, dated 16th August 
 1846, Manning recounts the passing of a vision, apparently 
 — though he does not in so many words describe it as such 
 — of our Lady, at the deathbed of one of his parishioners : — 
 
 This evening I went to see Mary Elcomb. She was drowsy, 
 and after speaking to me dozed off. I had reminded her who 
 used to read to her, and said I hoped that she remembered what 
 had been taught to her. She then closed her eyes ; then waking 
 up looked eagerly over my shoulder, and her eyes traversed 
 about, and she put up her hand and said with a kind of fear, 
 " Who is she ? Who is she ? " ^ I felt a thrill, and expected 
 
 mother's conversion. On Manning's submitting to the Catholic Church in 
 1851, Miss Lockhart became a Catholic ; and lived and died a nun in the 
 Franciscan Convent at Bayswater, under the spiritual direction of Archbishop 
 Manning. 
 
 ^ I think she said "all in white."
 
 452 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 to see something break out on my sight. This eager looking 
 about continued for some time, and did not terminate on me. 
 It was above and beside me. 
 
 In his Anglican days at Lavingtou, though he defended 
 in private, in his letters and Diary, " the doctrine of the 
 invocation of saints, and especially of the Blessed Virgin," 
 Manning appears to have had scruples, as Archdeacon of 
 Chichester, about invoking her intercession. For it was only 
 after executing the formal deed of resignation of his office 
 and benefice that he said for the first time the Ave Maria. 
 
 The shadow of death again fell over Lavington. On 
 12th May 1847, the Eve of the Ascension, Manning's 
 mother died. Her death made his life still more lonely. 
 The event is recorded in liis Diary as follows : — 
 
 My brother Charles came to-day at twenty minutes after 
 twelve. As soon as I heard of his sudden coming I foreboded 
 the truth. It pleased God to give my beloved mother rest last 
 night at half-past ten. 
 
 At that hour they were at family prayers. I was in prayer ; 
 and from the time am sure that my commemoration and inter- 
 cession for her was between twenty minutes after ten and the 
 half-past. This morning I again commemorated her in spiritual 
 communion. My beloved father fell asleep on Good Friday, my 
 beloved mother on the Eve of the Ascension. I hear that she 
 had been cheerful, free from fear and pain, had gone to bed ; 
 and the nurse (of Carter's Cloister), for the first time such a 
 thing had happened, sat on the top step of the stairs, near the 
 door, instead of going to family prayers. She heard two sighs 
 at twenty minutes after ten, ran down, found them coming out. 
 They came up, found her head fallen from the pillow, and 
 oppressed breathing, no consciousness, raised her, and in ten 
 minutes or quarter of an hour she was at rest. 
 
 Praise the Lord, my soul. I have shrunk with anguish of 
 heart from the thought and the image of my beloved mother's 
 last illness and agony. Her face I have pictured ; and the bitter- 
 ness of my own soul at the thought of my loveless, thankless, 
 and undutiful bearing to her. I trust to lay on myself a life- 
 long penance for this. She has been spared both the fear and 
 the pain of death, the wrench from the agony of life. I count 
 this a token of fatherly indulgence. May this revive my sink- 
 ing repentance and watchfulness. This morning I had a letter 
 from her. My curate asked for a piece of paper to fold his alms
 
 XXI LIFE AND HOME AT LAVINGTON 453 
 
 in for the altar. I tore the blank leaf, and then regretted it, 
 thinking it might be her last. But now I see that it was conse- 
 crated, and that I need not be sorry. It went to the altar, to 
 where she, too, is gone ; under where she is resting and waiting. 
 The last time I saw her was in bed at Reigate. She was ill, 
 and so was I. The beginning of my illness was on me. The 
 remembrance of my week there is sharp and piercing. How 
 estranged, distant, loveless, thankless, irritable, selfish. I did 
 nothing to cheer her or make her happy. My whole conduct 
 was hateful and guilty beyond words. I will, God being my 
 helper, from this day both commend her in prayer and humble 
 myself by some lifelong penance. But, blessed be God, I 
 believe she is at rest — father and mother both in God. May 
 this be my life. 
 
 Manning's bitter self-reproaches of undutifulness towards 
 his mother were more the expressions of his poignant grief 
 at her death than an accurate account of his behaviour 
 towards his beloved mother. In a letter to Eobert Wilber- 
 force he explains that the " undutifulness " towards his 
 mother of which he accuses himself was not undutifulness 
 as understood by the world. 
 
 Although he was recovering from his long and severe 
 attack of bronchitis, Manning was not allowed by his doctor 
 to attend his mother's funeral. In the following affectionate 
 letter he expresses his sorrow of heart to his brother Charles 
 at not being able to be present at the last ofi&ces of rever- 
 ence and love : — 
 
 Lavinqton, 20^^. May 1847. 
 
 My beloved Brother — My heart went with you yesterday, 
 and I should have grieved deeply at not following my most 
 tenderly loved mother — no, not her, but the dust which is also 
 holy — to its rest, had not the will of God been so plain. 
 
 On Tuesday night, I came upon the enclosed paper which 
 (if you can read it) may interest you. Let me have it again. 
 
 And now, dearest brother, our love has cast out all fear, and 
 I will at once ask you to come to me a little later than next 
 Sunday. 
 
 For a fortnight John has been under a promise to me to 
 come ; and I wrote on Sunday asking him to come now. I am 
 also going to ask dearest Maria, whom I greatly desire to see, 
 and that -will be as much as I feel I could enjoy at present. 
 You know that is no measure of my love to you, which cannot
 
 454 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 well be greater ; but I am not as yet as well able as I was to 
 enjoy more at once. 
 
 The next time I shall hope to have you under my roof. 
 
 I thank God, I have been out into the sun and fresh air 
 which is most blessed and soothing. 
 
 With my affectionate love to Catherine, believe me, my 
 dearest brother, yours with great love, H. E. Manning. 
 
 Manning also wrote to his brother-in-law Henry 
 Wilberforce as follows : — 
 
 Lavington, 20th May 1847. 
 
 My DEAREST Henry — I have begun two letters to you and 
 torn them up. You know all I am feeling by your own fresh 
 experience. God be praised my beloved mother was spared all 
 the pains and fears of death ; and I have been spared great 
 trials. It is impossible for me to tell you Avhat our love was, 
 and has been from my childhood. It was on her part as fond, 
 as I am on mine unworthy. Would to God I loved Him as 
 she loved me, and I should be blessed indeed. And yet I seem 
 to be unable to grieve. She is with my dearest Father, and 
 they are both in His presence I believe from my heart. And 
 the time seems infinitely short before we shall be together 
 again ; and in this world it seems as if happiness could only be 
 seen in reflection. When we try to feel it we touch nothing. 
 But it is a pledge of what is, and what shall be ours. 
 
 Thank God I am getting on comfortably, and have been out 
 the last eight days with great joy and refreshment. I trust the 
 children are going on well. Pray write to me. Give my 
 tenderest love to dear Mary, and say that her last letter was 
 very precious to me. — Ever your loving brother, H. E. M. 
 
 Mrs. Manning was buried at Sunbridge, Kent, in the 
 same grave where her husband was buried in 1835.^ Three 
 years later the death of his sister-in-law, Sophia Eyder, 
 brought fresh sorrow to Manning's heart. Only one of the 
 four sisters, daughters of Mrs. John Sargent, survived — 
 Mary, the wife of Henry Wilberforce. 
 
 ^ The following inscription was placed on the tombstone : — 
 
 ALSO OF 
 
 MARY MANNING, 
 
 Beloved Wife of William Manning, Esq., 
 
 Born July 4, 1771, 
 
 Died May 13, 1847. 
 
 Blessed are the merciful ; for they shall obtain mercy.
 
 XXI LIFE AND HOME AT LAVINGTON 455 
 
 The death of Sophia l\yder is spoken of in feeling terms 
 in the following passage of a letter from Manning to Eobert 
 Wilberforce : — 
 
 This has been indeed a great sorrow to us. All I remember 
 at Lavington are gone — but two. Dearest Sophia was a saintly 
 mind. Since she left us, E.C.'s would say by larger grace ; 
 others by chastisement and sorrow. I believe by both. She 
 had perceptibly grown in spiritual perfection. And now what 
 loves are reunited ! 
 
 For some years I have thought, and half believed, that " inter- 
 cession within the veil " has been drawing me whither they now 
 see the one Light to shine. But this is only a day-dream 
 perhaps. 
 
 Bishop Wilberforce, in a letter on Mrs. Eyder's death, 
 under date 26th March 1850, wrote as follows: "Mrs. 
 Sargent has now only Mary left, of the lovely family of 
 seven with whom God had enriched that happiest of 
 parsonages — Grafflmm." 
 
 In a letter to Eobert Wilberforce, dated 19th November 
 1850, Hs brother the Bishop of Oxford said : — 
 
 I go on to Sussex on Tuesday to preach. Wednesday at the 
 consecration of West Lavington church. A sad time, for I dare 
 hardly hope to have Manning again with us.^ 
 
 From his home at Lavington, what letters of condolence 
 or of congratulation were not sent in sympathy by Arch- 
 deacon Manning to his loving friends ! The following 
 letter of condolence was written to Mrs. Laprimaudaye on 
 the death of a near relative : — 
 
 Lavington, 2nd Juhj 1849. 
 
 My DEAR Friend — ... I hope your visit to Southend has 
 not been too much for you. 
 
 It is a heavy share of sorrow which now falls to you on both 
 sides. I suppose that one of the conditions on which we retain 
 parents and friends until their old age is that they leave us in 
 a company, and sorrows seem to come thick. 
 
 The aunt you speak of brought you up, I believe. Am I 
 not right in thinking so ? 
 
 It may sound strange, but I sometimes feel as if sorrow were 
 
 ^ Life of Wilberforce, first ed. vol. ii. p. 55.
 
 456 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 necessary to keep us from hardness of heart; and I am sure 
 nothing so teaches us to realise the communion of saints, and 
 all the realities and laws of the world unseen. 
 
 Give my love to your husband. May God bless you. — Ever 
 yours affectionately, H. E. Manning. 
 
 In a letter to Mrs. Herbert, dated Kipperton, 9th 
 September 1848, Archdeacon Manning alludes to his sister, 
 Mrs. Austen, as follows : — " You see that I write from 
 Kipperton, and send you the love of my sister, who says that 
 she is daily reminded of you by the ' Pio Nono ' she wears." 
 
 The letter of sympathy to Sidney Herbert and his wife 
 on the birth of their son was the last of the kind that 
 was sent from Lavington. 
 
 Lavington, 8th July 1850. 
 
 My dear Sidney — Your letter this morning gave me the 
 most heartfelt joy. It brings back to me the Porta Pia, the 
 Quattre Fontane and our long and confiding talk of things 
 which touch the deepest in our thoughts. May God bless you 
 both, and your boy — and make him all you can " ask or think." 
 Give my love to your wife. She knows how I rejoice with you, 
 and how all that gives her joy gladdens me. 
 
 I hope to be soon in London and to find you all well and 
 thankful for your many gifts and mercies. — Ever, my dear 
 Sidney, yours very affectionately, H. E. M. 
 
 On hearing of the sudden death of Sir Eobert Peel, 
 Archdeacon Manning paid a just tribute to the great 
 statesman in the following letter to Sidney Herbert : — 
 
 Lavington, 5th July 1850. 
 
 My dear Herbert — I had not heard the end when I wrote 
 to you. It is a deep sorrow — public and private. I did not 
 know him ; but through you and Gladstone I have learned to 
 feel for him more than the admiration which his public life 
 commanded. And I have always believed him with a perfect 
 reliance to be both a good and a great man. All that I have 
 ever heard of his private life, and all that I have ever seen of 
 his public life, alike convince me that he was among our best 
 and greatest men. 
 
 The time and the kind of his end make it singularly tragic 
 and impressive. 
 
 I can in some degree, and yet most imperfectly, conceive 
 what his loss must be to you. When I first heard of the
 
 XXI LIFE AND HOME AT LAVINGTON 457 
 
 accident I felt a foreboding how it would end, and since I heard 
 of the end I have hardly thought of anything else. 
 
 But as yet it is a sorrow chiefly, if not only ; every day will 
 show that it is the greatest loss we could have sustained at this 
 public crisis. And yet " the Lord sitteth above the water 
 flood," and "the Lord reraaineth a king for ever." 
 
 I have not thanked you for your letter which is most deeply 
 and painfully interesting. 
 
 My love to you both. May God be with you. Believe me, 
 my dear Sidney, always affectionately youi's, 
 
 H. E. Manning. 
 
 The picture of Lavington as half-way house to Eome 
 would not be complete without an illustration of those 
 unique appeals addressed by his penitents to their spiritual 
 director for guidance, and which were never allowed to pass 
 without full and sympathetic consideration. The following 
 letter shows that Evangelicals as well as Tractarians sought 
 spiritual help from Manning : — 
 
 15th October 1850. 
 My dear Father in Christ — I am venturing to ask a great 
 favour of you, it is that you will allow me to read and copy for 
 my oivn good, and quiet thought, your answer to D. Dodsworth's 
 attack on the Apocryphal books — and Rome as Babylon. Of 
 course it is from May Blunt that I know anything about it, and 
 she would not, if she knew, like my speaking of it again to you. 
 I think you won't refuse me, and I am sure you would pity me, 
 and like to help me, if you knew the unhappy, unsettled state my 
 mind is in, and the misery of being entirely, wherever I am, with 
 those who look upon joining the Church of Eome as the most 
 awful "fall" conceivable to any one, and are devoid of the 
 smallest comprehension of how any enlightened person can do it. 
 I have had one kind short letter from Mr. Richards, but I feel as 
 if he could do little good to me, so long as I am so completely 
 alone and forced into thinking over things for myself, and the 
 way in which the subject is brought before me. 
 
 My old Evangelical friends, with all my deep, deep love for 
 them, do not succeed in shaking me in the least. I would add 
 in asking you the favour to let me see what you sent May Blunt, 
 that I am reallj'^ cautious on one point, if on no other, i.e. about 
 not saying to others (for one reason lest I should misstate it my- 
 self) what may be quoted or garbled and misstated again at the 
 cost of another. 
 
 May says she will tell me all the heads of the argument when
 
 458 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 we meet, but I can't help exceedingly shrinking from the whole 
 subject with her, because she makes up her mind not to believe 
 things, and outtalks things so provokingly that I entirely lose 
 the whole sense. 
 
 My brother has just published a book called Regeneration, 
 which all my friends are reading and highly extolling ; it has a 
 very contrary effect to what he would desire on my mind. I can 
 read and understand it all in an altogether different sense, and 
 the facts which he quotes about the articles as drawn up in 
 153G, and again in 1552, and of the Irish articles of 1615 and 
 1634, startle and sliake me about the Reformed Church in Eng- 
 land far more than anything else, and have done ever since I 
 first saw them in Mr. Maskell's pamphlet (as quoted from Mr. 
 Dodsworth's). 
 
 I do hope you have sometimes just time and thought to pray 
 for me still. Mr. Galton's letters long ago grew into short, 
 formal notes, which hurt me and annoyed me particularly, and 
 I never answered his last, so, literally, I have no one to say 
 things to and get help from, which in one sense is a comfort, 
 when my convictions seem to be leading me on and on and gain- 
 ing strength in spite of all the dreariness of my lot. 
 
 Do you know I can't help being very anxious and unhappy 
 about poor Sister Harriet. I am afraid of her GOING OUT OF 
 HER MIND, She comforts herself by an occasional outpour of 
 everything to me, and I had a letter this morning. 
 
 This is what she says of herself in one part. " Oh how I 
 wish I could run away from myself. Sometimes I am obliged to 
 go out, and I walk and run till I feel I can go no farther, then I 
 sit down and cry, then I set off again." 
 
 She longs for more "active work," but if she leaves St. 
 Mary's Home she does not know where to go, she says ; in short 
 she describes herself as almost beside herself. She says Sister 
 May has promised the Vicar never to talk to her or allow her to 
 talk on the subject with her, and I doubt whether this can be 
 good for her, because though she has lost her faith, she says, in 
 the Church of England, yet she never thinks of what she could 
 have faith in, and resolutely without inquiring into the question 
 determines not to be a Eoman Catholic, so that really you see 
 she is allowing her mind to run adrift, and yet perfectly power- 
 less. Forgive my troubling you with this letter, and believe me 
 to be always your faithful, grateful, and affectionate daughter, 
 
 Emma Ryle. 
 
 I wish I could see you once more so very much. 
 
 The last eight or nine months of his residence at Laving-
 
 XXI LIFE AND HOME AT LAVINGTON 459 
 
 ton was for ]\Iauuing a most distressing period. The battle 
 over the Gorhani case had been fought and lost. In the 
 field of action Manning had never lost heart or hope. But 
 the recoil made itself felt at Lavington. The shadow of 
 coming events was cast over his heart and home. 
 
 Manning's life at Lavington, from his marriage in 
 November 1833 to the leaving of his beloved home in 
 December 1850, included in its seventeen years' duration 
 most of the vicissitudes which fall to the lot of man on 
 earth. Alternate joys and sorrows, hopes and fears, suc- 
 cesses and disappointments, marked its course in the order 
 of nature. In the supernatural order came the new birth 
 of spiritual life ; the growth of grace and of the knowledge 
 of God; the wrestlings of the spirit with the flesh; of the 
 love and fear of God with the love and fear of the world ; 
 of grace with nature. For a time, as the world judges of 
 men and their actions, the issue of the struggle seemed 
 uncertain. In Manning, nature was strong and subtle. 
 Self-will and self-confidence, self-seeking even, took the 
 form or came to him under the guise, at any rate for a 
 time, of willing and seeking the things which God willed. 
 In the recesses of his own mind, not out of pride of 
 will but from unconscious self - deception, he believed 
 that he singly and solely knew best how to extend 
 and exalt the work and the Will of God on earth : 
 knew what tended most to promote the designs of 
 Providence in the government of the Church and 
 the world. He persuaded himself at a critical moment 
 that the designs of Providence in regard to the Church of 
 England coincided with the desires of his own heart. For 
 never, even under the sharp spur of ambition, did he know- 
 ingly or deliberately set himself against the Divine AVill. 
 In strong natures, carried away or consumed by their own 
 desires or designs, self-deception is not unknown, even in 
 our day, as the conduct of the greatest statesman of his 
 generation bears ample witness. A great ecclesiastic of 
 those days, the Archdeacon of Chichester, who in many 
 points of his character bore a striking resemblance to the 
 eminent statesman alluded to, had likewise for a time per-
 
 460 CARDINAL MANNING chap, xxi 
 
 suaded himself, against his own better judgment, that he 
 was called by God not to submit to the Church of Eome, 
 but to rehabilitate the Church of England in harmony with 
 the designs of Providence. His self-delusion needed a rough 
 awakening. In God's mercy, the awakening came. Man- 
 ning recognised, and overcoming at last the " shrinkings of 
 flesh and blood," -^ obeyed the Voice and Will of God. 
 
 In leaving Lavington and all that such a self-sacrifice 
 inflicted — severance from the work of a lifetime; from 
 hopes and ambitions near and dear to his heart ; from the 
 esteem of great men ; from public honour ; from the pro- 
 spect of more extended usefulness in a higher sphere. 
 Manning manifested in a singular and special manner his 
 higher, inner nature ; his deep, fervent, and abiding belief 
 in the supernatural. In spite of temporary tergiversations, 
 blindnesses, and weaknesses of nature — human frailties 
 from which few are exempt — he saw in the higher moods 
 and movements of his soul the world " behind the veil " ; 
 felt the living presence of God ; heard the Divine Voice 
 speaking to his soul. This supernatural character God set 
 as a sacramental seal and stamp upon Manning's brow.^ 
 
 1 See Manuing's letters to Robert Wilberforce in Chapters xxiv. xxvi. 
 xxvii. In these letters are disclosed the inner history of Archdeacon 
 Manning's mind ; the struggles which he went through for many years ; the 
 temptations he overcame — trials which lasted almost up to the period of his 
 conversion in 1851. 
 
 - The late Father Lockhart, a few months before his death, described his 
 seeing, on the first vacation from Oxford he spent at Chichester, "the Arch- 
 deacon for the first time, his grand head, bald even then, his dignified figure 
 in his long white surplice, occupying the Archdeacon's stall in the cathedral." 
 Recalling the impression produced on his mind by Manning more than fifty 
 years ago, Father Lockhart made this remark : — " His face was to me some 
 first dim revelation of the supernatural in man. I have never forgotten it. 
 I see him as viWdly now in my mind's eye as when I first beheld him. . . . 
 I at once connected his face with those of the old churchmen of Catholic 
 times that I had seen in stained glass windows, and in the portraits of the 
 whole line of Catholic bishops painted in long order on the walls of the south 
 transept of the cathedral. They began, I think, with St. Ricliard of 
 Chichester, and ended with the last Catholic bishop in the reign of Mary 
 Tudor." — "Personal Reminiscences of Cardinal Manning," by William 
 Lockhart, DiMin Review, April 1892, p. 372.
 
 CHAPTEE XXII 
 
 CONFLICTING CLAIMS OF CONSCIENCE, OR THE OUTER 
 AND INNER MAN 
 
 1846-1851 
 
 Hitherto I have shown the Archdeacon of Chichester 
 chiefly in his public capacity as teacher and preacher ; as 
 the friend and adviser of the clergy of his archdeaconry ; 
 as the counsellor of his bishop ; as fellow- worker with his 
 friends S. F. Wood, Thomas Acland, and Mr. Gladstone, in 
 establishing diocesan boards and theological colleges ; in 
 resisting the supremacy of the civil power in matters eccle- 
 siastical ; and in defending the cause of national education 
 on a Christian basis. 
 
 It was the outer man only that I have described, not 
 the inner. The eloquent voice we have been listening to 
 in sermons and charges, in pamphlets and tracts, was the 
 voice of the public champion of the Church of England — 
 an unhesitating and " infallible " witness to the soundness 
 and completeness of her faith, to the purity of her doc- 
 trines, and to her glorious destiny as " the regenerator of a 
 dissolving Christendom, the centre of a new Catholic world." 
 
 But there was another voice — not the voice of an infallible 
 teacher, but the voice, now of a penitent, acknowledging 
 " under the seal of confession," his doubts and dijfficulties 
 on matters of faith, his profound misgivings as to the belief 
 and teaching of the Church he loved so well ; now of a 
 friend telling to a friend in sorrow of heart, and often 
 under the seal of confession, the secrets of his soul : the 
 Church of England is to him no longer " a member of
 
 462 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 the visible Church of Christ " : no longer " a witness 
 to the highest doctrines of the Divine Eevelation " : no 
 longer a teacher " under the undoubted guidance of the 
 Holy Spirit." It was the voice of a man wrestling with 
 his own soul, and confessing to himself in humiliation and 
 bitterness of heart — and recording his confessions in a 
 Diary — that " the Church of England is diseased, organic- 
 ally and functionally " ; that " the Church of Rome is the 
 heir of infallibility " : and that " to maintain Rome's infalK- 
 bility is to condemn us." 
 
 Without the revelations contained in his " general con- 
 fession" to his beloved curate Laprimaudaye, whom Ca,rdinal 
 Manning styled in his " Journal " of a later period " my 
 Father-confessor in the Church of England " ; without the 
 numerous letters extending over a period of more than ten 
 years, and those towards the end often marked Under the 
 Seal, written to the most intimate of his friends, Robert 
 Wilberforce ; and still more without the self-revelations in 
 his Diary, I could only have given a very one-sided and 
 incomplete account of the state of Manning's religious 
 opinions from the year 1846 to his conversion in the year 
 1851. Without such evidence, invaluable beyond measure 
 as revealing the inner workings of his mind, the spirituality 
 of his nature, and the growing influence of supernatural 
 motives guiding heart and soul, it would have been difficult 
 if not altogether impossible to understand or judge aright 
 Archdeacon Manning's real relations during these most 
 critical years to the Church of Rome, on the one side, and 
 on the other, to the Anglican Church. Had we to rely 
 only on his public utterances, or on the statements which 
 he felt it his duty to make, up to the last, to his penitents, 
 the historian of his life would have been constrained to 
 admit as the primary causes of his conversion, if not the 
 Gorham Judgment in itself, the acceptance by the Church 
 of England of the royal supremacy on matters of doctrine, 
 on the one hand ; and on the other, the anti-Papal agitation 
 as manifesting the essential Protestantism of the Established 
 Church. Whereas in truth these were but the secondary 
 causes ; the primary cause, as the documents which I now
 
 XXII CONFLICTING CLAIMS OF CONSCIENCE 463 
 
 produce prove beyond the shadow of doubt, was the 
 gradual growth, under God's grace, of faith in the Catholic 
 Church, and an absolute repudiation, long before the 
 Gorham Judgment, of Anglicanism, high or low, as a 
 Church. Had the Diary and the letters to Eobert 
 Wilberforce been destroyed or suppressed, a difficulty would 
 indeed have been removed. But then the most striking 
 testimony to the supernatural side of Manning's mind and 
 character would have been for ever lost. It is better by far 
 to front, than by suppression attempt to evade, a difficulty. 
 
 What, I grant, is a curious difficulty, almost startling at 
 first, is to find Manning speaking concurrently for years 
 with a double voice. One voice proclaims in public, in 
 sermons, charges, and tracts, and, in a tone still more 
 absolute, to those who sought his advice in confession, his 
 profound and unwavering belief in the Church of England 
 as the divine witness to the Truth, appointed by Christ 
 and guided by the Holy Spirit. The other voice, as the 
 following confessions and documents under his own hand- 
 writing bear ample witness, speaks in almost heartbroken 
 accents of despair at being no longer able in conscience 
 to defend the teaching and position of the Church of 
 England ; whilst acknowledging at the same time, if not in 
 his confession to Laprimaudaye, at any rate in his letters 
 to Eobert Wilberforce, the drawing he felt towards the 
 infallible teaching of the Church of Eome. 
 
 What adds to the difficulty of accounting for these 
 contradictory statements in regard to his religious opinions 
 is the strange fact, that in all his Journals, Eeminiscences, 
 and autobiographical Notes, Cardinal Manning has left no 
 explanation of this apparent mystery. It was not out of 
 obliviousness of these various documents with their conflict- 
 ing testimonies, for in more than one Note he directs 
 special attention to them as affording the best evidence as to 
 the state of his religious opinions. Not a hint is given that 
 the necessity of such an explanation ever occurred to his mind. 
 
 The simplest solution that can be offered to a difficulty 
 is for the most part the truest. In the trying period 
 between 1847-51 Manning's mind was in a state of trans-
 
 464 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 ition in regard to his religious belief. The struggle was 
 as prolonged as it was severe. Until his mind had grasped 
 the reality of things ; had probed his doubts to the bottom ; 
 had reached solid ground, consistency or coherency of state- 
 ment was perhaps scarcely to be expected. To see things 
 in one light to-day, in another to-morrow, is but natural 
 in such a transition-state of mind. To make statements 
 on grave matters of faith to one person or set of persons 
 in contradiction of statements made to others, is only a 
 still stronger proof of a sensitive mind, perplexed by 
 doubt, losing for the time being its balance. 
 
 In Manning's mind there was a superadded difficulty : 
 he was by nature, if not absolutely incapable, unwilling in 
 the extreme to confess his inability to answer a question or 
 solve a difficulty or doubt. As an accepted teacher in 
 religion, the habit had grown upon him of speaking always 
 on all points of faith with an absolute assurance of certi- 
 tude. In a letter to Eobert Wilberforce of this date, 
 Manning confesses that " people are rising up all over the 
 country and appealing to me to solve doubts and difficu.lties 
 which, as you know, perplex my own mind. But if I leave 
 their appeals unanswered, they will think that I am as they 
 are." For him, a spiritual teacher, in whom his penitents 
 put their trust, to whom they come for counsel and guid- 
 ance, to confess to his doubts would give scandal and do 
 grave harm. Hence it came to pass that he had to speak, 
 considering it under the circumstances his duty to do so, 
 with a double voice. 
 
 Written on a half-sheet of note-paper, among his con- 
 temporary memoranda, in the same year in which, in Ms 
 letter to Eobert Wilberforce, he repudiated the Church of 
 England as a branch of the Church of Christ, Archdeacon 
 Manning, moved by a new impulse of Faith, made the 
 following profession of belief in the Church of England : — 
 
 I believe one holy Catholic Church, and I hold the Faith of 
 that One Church, believing all it believes, anathematising all it 
 anathematises. 
 
 I believe the Church in England, commonly called of England, 
 to be a member of that One Church. As such I hold to it.
 
 XXII CONFLICTING CLAIMS OF CONSCIENCE 4G5 
 
 If I did not so believe it, I should at once submit myself 
 to the Holy Roman Church. H. E. Manning. 
 
 5th Sunday after Trinity, 1849. 
 
 Manning had, to put it broadly, two sets of people to 
 deal with : the one set those who put their trust in him 
 — the ecclesiastical authorities and his own penitents ; the 
 other set, those in whom he put his trust — his intimate 
 friends and confessors. He dealt with each set from different 
 standpoints : from the one he considered it his duty to 
 conceal his religious doubts and difficulties ; to the other 
 he laid bare, as in conscience bound, the secrets of his soul. 
 
 On this principle, the double voice in Archdeacon 
 Manning is easy of explanation. He had a deep sense of 
 responsibility as an accepted teacher in the Church, and a 
 still deeper in regard to those who came to him as penitents 
 for spiritual guidance. The Archdeacon of Chichester knew 
 that he was regarded by his bishop and the clergy, not 
 only in his own archdeaconry, but in the neighbouring arch- 
 deaconry of Lewes — where his orthodoxy had been vouched 
 for by Archdeacon Hare — as a faithful son of the Estab- 
 lished Church. Other bishops as well as his own consulted 
 his judgment with deference. It was not in his nature 
 lightly to forfeit such a position. As long as his conscience 
 permitted him to keep silence, he never uttered a word in 
 public as to his doubts and difficulties, never gave a hint 
 even to those nearest to him, or most dependent on his 
 spiritual guidance, of the changes which had taken place 
 and were still going on in his religious opinions. On the 
 contrary, he regarded it as a duty which he owed, on the one 
 hand, to his office in the diocese, on the other, to his peni- 
 tents, to exalt on every public occasion the claims and 
 defend the position of the Church of England, as a living 
 portion of the Church of Christ. 
 
 It must be borne in mind, likewise, that Manning- 
 was not a profound thinker or deeply versed in theology. 
 He was never engaged, like Newman, heart and soul, in 
 attempts at solving the great religious and ecclesiastical 
 problems of the day. He was by nature a man of peace. 
 VOL. I 2 H
 
 466 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 He avoided by instinct as much as by prudence conflicts 
 and controversies. Again, unlike Newman and the 
 Tractarian leaders, he had not, as yet at least, overhauled 
 the title-deeds of the Church of England, nor disparaged 
 the Eeformation and the Eeformers. In his charges 
 of 1841-43, and especially in his attacks on the 
 Popes in his Fifth of November Sermon, he had purged 
 himself, as he had hoped at least and intended, from the 
 taint of " Eomanism." Yet, however much he may have 
 been tortured in heart and conscience by doubts, which on 
 principle he refused to express in public, he bravely upheld 
 with all his wonted assurance and authority, until the very 
 foundations of his faith were swept away from beneath his 
 feet, both from the pulpit and in the confessional, if I may 
 so call it, implicit belief in the teaching and position of the 
 Church of England. 
 
 Such a strain on his mind and heart compelled Manning 
 in the nature of things to seek relief. Hence he unburdened 
 his conscience in outpourings of the soul ; in confessions, 
 full and complete, as to the state of his mind ; as to his 
 doubts, difficulties, unbelief in Anglicanism as a theology, as 
 a Church. In this way the inner voice made itself heard. 
 
 For the better elucidation of what, for conciseness' sake, 
 I have called the double voice that spoke in Manning — not 
 casually or by accident, but deliberately and from a sense 
 of duty, I now produce evidence, given, as it were, under 
 his own hand and seal. 
 
 For this purpose it is necessary to recite and, from the 
 nature of the case, at some length. Manning's letters : some, 
 on the one hand, under the seal of confession ; some addressed 
 as spiritual director, on the other, to his penitents, as well as 
 extracts from his Diary, showing at an early date grave 
 doubts and misgivings as to the teaching and position of the 
 English Church. In his pubUc utterances, on the other 
 hand, in numerous passages — which I need not repeat here, 
 as I have already recited them elsewhere — in charges, 
 sermons, tracts, and letters, the Archdeacon of Chichester 
 proclaims from a sense of duty, whether mistaken or no, 
 his implicit belief in the Church of England.
 
 XXII CONFLICTINCx CLAIMS OF CONSCIENCE 467 
 
 The first document in the order of importance, though 
 not necessarily of treatment, is Archdeacon Manning's 
 Diary 1844-47. 
 
 On the cover of this " Diary " are these words in his 
 own handwriting : — 
 
 Burn this Book Unopened. 
 
 1844. H. E. M. 
 
 On his becoming a Catholic, this restriction was removed ; 
 but, on the other hand, every record, statement, or reflection, 
 which he did not think fit for the public eye — nearly half 
 the book — was, late in life, carefully expurgated by Car- 
 dinal Manning's own hand. 
 
 In like manner, in regard to his " general confession " 
 to his friend and curate at Lavington, Laprimaudaye, and 
 his letters to Eobert Wilberforce, marked " Under the Seal," 
 the restriction of privacy was removed, for, in his Notes 
 and Eeminiscences, Cardinal Manning refers to these letters 
 as containing the most authentic evidence of his religious 
 opinions ; as he did, I may add, to myself personally. In 
 an autobiographical Note Cardinal Manning in 1887 
 wrote as follows : — " The state of my mind in 1847 is care- 
 fully stated in a letter to the clergyman to whom I made a 
 general confession." 
 
 The following documents, which I have thought it 
 prudent not to abridge or summarise, show what Manning 
 considered it his duty to say about his religious opinions — 
 his belief or unbelief in the Church of England — on the 
 one hand, in confidence to his friends or confessors ; and, 
 on the other, to the public in his published writings ; and 
 to those who were under his spiritual direction ; or in 
 letters or conversations with friends, like Mr. Gladstone. 
 
 The following letter to his friend Laprimaudaye bears 
 the heading attached to it by Cardinal Manning in 1887 : — 
 
 To my Confessor in the Church of England. 
 
 Under the Seal. 
 
 44 Cadogan Place, IGth June 1847. 
 
 My dear Friend — ... In one of your letters you ex-
 
 468 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 pressed a hope that I might not go to Italy. This and other 
 causes lead me to write now what I had intended at some time 
 to explain. I mean the reasons why I have begged that all 
 reference to the subject of opinions might be excluded from 
 our intercourse. I will give you my reasons as shortly as I can. 
 
 1 . First, I feel it right for your sake, because I came to you 
 for the keys of the Church alone ; and I have always felt that 
 I did wrong in putting anything else before you, as I did last 
 year. 
 
 2. Next, I feel it right and most important for my own sake, 
 for the mixing up of any intellectual questions with a relation 
 purely spiritual, would deprive me of an unspeakable blessing. 
 I mean the power of excluding everything of a lower or dis- 
 turbing kind from the care and examination of my own state ; I 
 am most anxious, therefore, that our relation should continue to 
 be confined to the keys of the Church, 
 
 3. A third reason, though the last makes it needless, I may 
 give, but I must first do what I have not done before, and un- 
 willingly, I mean say something about myself. 
 
 Our intimacy began with last year, up to that time you could 
 only know of me in a general way. Since that time I have 
 never gone into what it is necessary you should know if you are 
 to have any real knowledge of my thoughts on some points 
 which have seemed to give you uneasiness. And my purpose 
 in giving you that knowledge is only because I feel it to be due 
 to us both, that you should not misunderstand, nor I to be mis- 
 understood. 
 
 For 14 years I have lived the life of a parish priest — nearly 
 half the time without a curate. Upon this has been added for 
 6^ years the work of the Archdeaconry and a most burdensome 
 correspondence. 
 
 The active work of the last four or five years has been so great 
 that my stable and travelling expenses nearly equal my whole 
 household expenses. 
 
 I pass over many other things because these are enough to 
 show that mine has been a life of overwork, and all my tempta- 
 tions and dangers the very reverse of those which attend a 
 retired, reading, and speculative life such as some of our friends 
 have lived. 
 
 For the last eight years I have been labouring to keep people 
 from the Roman Church. In 1839, one person who was all but 
 gone, was settled and has stood to this day, though a favourite 
 brother went two years after. 
 
 From 1842 to 184G Mrs. Lockhart was held back. Miss 
 Lockhart till now.
 
 XXII CONFLICTING CLAIMS OF CONSCIENCE 469 
 
 In the beirinninc' of 1846, a man who had seceded and 
 received Komaii baptism, was received back again in Lavington 
 church. 
 
 Six persons at this moment, I believe, have either laid aside 
 the thought or suspended it, with relation to myself. 
 
 Many men I could name in various degrees of nearness 
 during the last five or six years. 
 
 My whole labour has been this way. 
 
 I never wrote one of the Oxford tracts. 
 
 I remonstrated with Newman about many acts and publica- 
 tions on the Romanising score. 
 
 I preached on the 5th of November 1843 at Oxford with the 
 intent and eifect of declaring against it, and helped the 
 English Review with the view of undoing the line of the 
 British Critic. 
 
 I know of no one act or word tending to unsettlement con- 
 sciously spoken or done by me. All that I have written has 
 been studiously in support, hopefully and affectionately, of the 
 English Church. 
 
 The whole work of the Archdeaconry and my relation to 
 150 clergy has been of the same tone. 
 
 I have always held aloof, except in Ward's degradation 
 (which I think the beginning of confusion) from Oxford 
 movements, refusing to act on the principle of theological 
 combination. 
 
 During the last four years the effort and anxiety to retain 
 friends in the English Church has perceptibly affected my health ; 
 and I can trace I think the beginning of illness last year to that 
 cause. 
 
 So wholly and sincerely from my soul has all my heart and 
 strength been given against the Roman tendencies and tempta> 
 tions to them. 
 
 I have never indulged in the habit of speaking against the 
 Church of England or her writers living or dead, or allowed 
 any one to do so to me. The sort of footing on which I have 
 lived with the clergy round me made it impossible for such a 
 tone to pass. 
 
 In the year 1835, I preached a visitation sermon on the 
 succession of the English Church, which led me into the 
 question of Unity, and which I printed in the year 1841, having 
 in the meantime continually kept the subject before me so far 
 as I could find time for reading. That book was the substance 
 of a correspondence by which I tried to keep a man from Rome, 
 enlarged. 
 
 In 1838 I preached another visitation sermon on Tradition.
 
 470 CARDINAL MANNING CHAP. 
 
 Both these books I believe have been used in keeping people 
 from Rome, and I also believe successfully. They are both 
 strongly and plainly Anglican, and in parts positively and by 
 statement anti-Roman. 
 
 I vnW now tell you the third reason why I wished not 
 to talk with you on this subject. I saw that till I had said 
 all this (most unwillingly) about myself, it would be impos- 
 sible that you should fail to misunderstand me. And so 
 it happened. You seemed to think that I had lighted on 
 difficulties from a speculative and intellectual way of treating 
 such subjects ; that I was influenced by Roman books of devo- 
 tion ; that I was affected by depreciating language about the 
 English Chvxrch ; that it was excitement ; and I unfortunately 
 named two or three books, which seemed to give you the im- 
 pression that I was always reading controversies. 
 
 My dearest friend, I wish any one or all of them were true, 
 I could easily dispose of them by your help ; for this would 
 be chiefly moral faults and need no more than a plain treat- 
 ment. 
 
 I will endeavour to tell you exactly the state of my thoughts 
 Two subjects have been in my mind for the last ten or twelve 
 years. The one is Unity, beginning in 1835 ; the other Infalli- 
 bility, beginning in 1837-38. To these two points all the 
 reading I could give has been given. On both I came to 
 conclusions which uphold as against Rome ; and these con- 
 clusions, after long examination and re-examination, I printed. 
 I can say Avithout fear, that the examination of these two 
 subjects was as unexcited, calm, and practical as I could make 
 it. They came before me as involved in the baptismal creed, as 
 you will find if you care to see. 
 
 When Newman's book was published, Gladstone urged me to 
 answer it. 1 declined pledging myself ; but it forced me again 
 into the two same subjects. To which I have continued to give 
 all the thought and reading I can. 
 
 And I am bound to say that I could not republish either of 
 the two books as they stand. They are inaccurate in some 
 facts ; incomplete as compared with the truth of the case ; and 
 concede some of the main points I intended to deny. The 
 Anglican ground is I believe this. 
 
 1. To stand upon the text of St. Vincent of Lerins, quod 
 semper, etc. 
 
 2. To interpret Scripture by antiquity as expressed in the 
 canon of 1562. 
 
 3. To hold the faitli of the Church before the division of the 
 East and West as Bishop Ken said.
 
 XXII CONFLICTING CLAIMS OF CONSCIENCE 471 
 
 4. To show that the Roman points cannot be proved in the 
 first 6 centuries as Bishop Jewel declared. 
 
 In the course of the last few years I have read the Apostolical 
 Fathers, Justin Martyr's Dialogue — a good deal of Tertullian, 
 St. Cyprian, St. Cyril of Jerusalem ; St. Chrysostom, and a 
 good deal more of St. Augustine, including the de Civitafe Dei. 
 The whole of St. Optatus, and St. Leo, besides habitually 
 referring to jmrts for facts and quotations. The result is that 
 I should be afraid of undertaking the defence of either Jewel's 
 or Ken's positions. 
 
 You said one thing most true and woful to me, and that is, 
 that I was not fit to decide such a question ; so I feel, for I 
 greatly mistrust myself and my reading, and earnestly wish for 
 the help of others stronger in head and more learned than my- 
 self. The two I chiefly trust are Robert Wilberforce and Dr. 
 Mill, with whom I hope, if need arise, to confer. I wish it were 
 possible to lay the Avhole aside. But it is in vain to dream of 
 it. If I could do it myself, duty to others Avould make it 
 impossible. Within the last month I have declined to enter 
 upon these points with five men (three clergymen) and all (four 
 especially) men of high excellence and value to us. Even if I 
 could satisfy my o^vn mind, I could not help others without 
 seeing a clearer solution of the two following points : — 
 
 First. — Is not the infallibility of the Church a necessary con- 
 sequence of the presence of the third Person of the Blessed 
 Trinity ; and of His perpetual office, beginning from the Day of 
 Pentecost ? This seems to me to be revealed in Scripture. 
 
 A perpetual presence, perpetual office, and perpetual infalli- 
 bility — that is, a living voice witnessing for truth and against error 
 under the guidance of the Spirit of Christ — seem inseparable. 
 
 Secondly. — Is it not a part of the revealed will and ordinance 
 of our Lord Jesus Christ, that the Church should be under an 
 episcopate united with a visible head, as the apostles were 
 united Avith St. Peter ? It is not the question of primacy with 
 me so much as unity of the episcopate. " Episcopatus unus est." 
 
 I take St. Peter to have been the first of apostles, as the 
 Primate of Christendom is the first of bishops ; in spiritual 
 order or power all being equal. 
 
 Now these two questions are two principles, which involve all 
 details. And the course of examination which has led me to 
 them is the canon of 1562, i.e. Scripture interpreted by 
 antiquity. The Council of Chalcedon, Avhich the Church of 
 England recognises, exhibits them both in a form and dis- 
 tinctness which I cannot at present reconcile with what I have 
 hitherto believed to be tenable.
 
 472 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 I have now given you, as far as is possible in the fewest 
 words, the sum of my meaning. 
 
 All bonds of birth, blood, memory, love, happiness, interest, 
 every inducement which can sway and bias my will, bind me to 
 my published belief. To doubt it is to call in question all that 
 is dear to me. If I were to give it up I should feel that it 
 would be like death ; as if all my life had become extinct. 
 Believe me then, that nothing short of a mass of evidence 
 inspired and uninspired all going one way, and this evidence 
 I have before me — could make me hesitate to shut my eyes, 
 and take the Church of England on trust for ever as I have done 
 with a loving heart in times past. 
 
 But the Church of England herself sends me by canon to 
 antiquity, and in obeying it I find what I cannot solve. For 
 this cause I must seek help. Now let me add a Avord on a 
 subject I noticed in the beginning — I mean your fear of my 
 going to Italy. " He that trusteth his own heart is a fool," 
 but I may say that I have passed through all this before, having 
 been much abroad, and already six months in Italy — three in 
 Eome. The effect of this has always been highly repulsive. But 
 I can say, I think, without fear, that no seductions of devotional 
 books or the like have the least effect in this matter. I have 
 been for years familiar with them. My difficulties are two 
 definite and distinct questions, in which I am ready with a 
 willing mind to be guided. 
 
 But I feel them to be too definite and distinct to be laid 
 aside — and no treatment but such as is definite and distinct 
 gives rest to my conscience. I would not have written all this 
 about myself were it not that I feel too much love for you to 
 bear, without an attempt to satisfy you, the pain of being 
 thought to use lightness in a matter of Eternity. I do not ask 
 you to go into these questions. I only wish you to see that my 
 difficulties are neither from excitement nor imagination, nor 
 from want of love to the Church of England, nor from trifling 
 and fanciful causes. They lie deep in Holy Scripture and in 
 the mind of the Spirit and the appointments of our Lord Jesus 
 Christ. Only believe me to be as real and earnest in this as 
 you think me capable of being in anything. 
 
 I have made this a long letter, willing if possible to make a 
 second needless. Do not feel bound to answer it, as I shall not 
 look for any reply. But give me your prayers against all the 
 faults you see or think you see in me. 
 
 And do not imagine that I write this as any forward step or 
 sign of moving one way or the other. 
 
 I write because I resolved I would not even enter on these
 
 xxii CONFLICTING CLAIMS OF CONSCIENCE 473 
 
 points in helping others till I had wi'itten to you. There are 
 some about me Avhom I can hardly deny, and I could not much 
 longer keep silence "\vith them without making them fancy I was 
 as they are. 
 
 Farewell, my dearest friend. Happy the day if through the 
 precious blood of our Lord we attain that kingdom where light 
 casts no shadows and all are one in the Eternal Truth. 
 
 With my brotherly love and gratitude for all you have done 
 for the least worthy. — Ever yours affectionately, 
 
 H. E. Manning. 
 
 In his Journal, dated 1885, Cardinal Manning has put 
 his imprimatur on this general confession, made in 1847, 
 iu these words : — " On looking back on it I see now it 
 had both formal and material integrity." 
 
 In the following letter, written after the Gorham Judg- 
 ment, to a near relative, a lady, who had long desired to 
 join the Catholic Church, and who, since the Gorham 
 Judgment, was more pressing than ever, Manning speaks, 
 not in the voice of a penitent or, as he spoke to his con- 
 fessor, acknowledging his doubts and misgivings, but in the 
 voice of an authorised teacher upholding the claims of the 
 Church of England on the conscience of his penitent : — 
 
 Lavington, Qth May 1850. 
 
 My dearest 1 will endeavour to give you the 
 
 reasons which make me strive to subdue both haste and fear in 
 the great probation which is upon me. 
 
 1. Judging by the evidence of the Primitive Church there 
 are many, and they very grave and vital, points on which 
 the Church of England seems more in harmony with Holy 
 Scripture than the Church of Rome. 
 
 2. The political, social, domestic state of foreign countries as 
 compared with England is to me a perplexity and an alarm. 
 
 3. For three hundred years, the grace of sanctity and of 
 penitence has visibly dwelt and wrought in the Church of 
 England. 
 
 4. The most saintly and penitent for three centuries have 
 lived and died in it, not only without fear, but with great 
 thankfulness for their lot as compared Avith another which they 
 have looked on with mistrust, and even more. 
 
 5. I must believe that the spiritual discernment of Andrewes, 
 Leighton, Ken, and Wilson was purer and truer than mine.
 
 474 CARDINAL MANNING chap 
 
 6. I am sure that they and a multitude besides were more 
 learned and of greater intellectual penetration. 
 
 7. At the present time the great majority of the holiest and 
 the wisest of my brethren differ from me in the strongest way 
 on the point before us. 
 
 They may be God's warning voice to me. 
 
 8. It is a fearful conclusion to say that 10 generations in 
 the last 300 years, and among them visilily penitent and holy 
 souls, dwelling in God far more than I, died out of His Church 
 and were deceived. 
 
 9. I know too well my own faults of intellect, heart, and 
 will, the shallowness of my spiritual life, and the narrowness of 
 my information, to come to such a conclusion without the deepest 
 awe, and the longest and most patient delay. 
 
 10. The evidence before me in part inclines to show that this 
 event (the Gorham Judgment) is a revelation, in part a change. 
 
 But I need more than I have as yet to decide a question 
 with such tremendous issues for time and for eternity. 
 It would be like the one mistake upon a death-bed. 
 
 11. As yet the evidence is still unfolding itself. I have 
 seen it only in part. Whether the Church of England will re- 
 lease itself or no, God may release it by a great overthrow, as He 
 did the French Church in 1789. 
 
 12. I have not yet heard Him in my conscience saying, 
 "Flee for thy life." Till then, I will die rather than run the 
 risk of crossing His will. 
 
 I fear haste, and I fear to offend God, but I fear nothing 
 else ; and in that faith by His gi-ace I %vill wait upon Him, 
 humbling and chastening my own soul. 
 
 So much for myself ; now I will add a few words for you. 
 
 1. It seems to me that all these reasons apply at least 
 equally to you. 
 
 2. Your case is that of Nineveh, on which God had com- 
 passion, calling only for repentance. What I have tried to say 
 in the 4th Sermon of vol. iv., especially from pages 74-80, applies 
 to your case and to all who cannot judge, as women, children, 
 and the poor. 
 
 3. As to absolution, the view of the pamphlet is one of two, 
 both tenable, and therefore neither absolute. 
 
 The Spanish and Gallican Churches both hold the validity 
 of jurisdiction as to sacraments to go with valid Orders. 
 
 But apart from this, the whole Church holds that contrition 
 with a desire for absolution reconciles the soul with God. 
 
 In your case not only has there been desire for absolution 
 but full confession.
 
 XXII CONFLICTING CLAIMS OF CONSCIENCE 475 
 
 Therefore, on the lowest ground you may leave yourself in 
 the hands of His love who, as you have often written to me, 
 has never left nor forsaken you. 
 
 It is hard to compress into a letter any answer to such 
 questions ; but I feel no doubt or fear in saying that your pro- 
 bation is in the life of the soul. Keep your heart and will 
 united with God, and then shall no harm break through to 
 touch you. Be jealous lest these intellectual questions draw 
 your will from the spiritual life, especially from prayer, even 
 though you do no more than kneel in silence before God. It 
 calms and subdues the soul to a consciousness of what is and 
 what is not real and eternal. 
 
 To Him I commend you as always. His peace be with you. 
 — For His sake always very affectionately yours, 
 
 H. E. M. 
 
 Both of these private and confidential letters, the one to 
 his own confessor, the other addressed to a penitent who, 
 troubled in conscience about the Church of Eome, sought 
 spiritual guidance at his hand, effected the special purpose 
 for which they were written. Laprimaudaye's suspicions 
 that he was carried away by excitement, seduced by Eoman 
 services and books of devotion, Manning removed by con- 
 fessing, as he was bound to do, that his mind was not dis- 
 turbed by such trivial matters, but by grave doubts which 
 he could not solve, as to the teaching and position of the 
 Church of England. 
 
 On the other hand, in his letter to his penitent, Manning 
 considered it to be his duty to offer such arguments as he 
 could in defence of the Church of England as might restrain 
 her from going over to Eome. 
 
 In his letters, often " under the seal," to Eobert Wilber- 
 force. Manning, writing from an altogether opposite stand- 
 point, and for a different purpose — not as a teacher, but 
 as an unbosomer of his own burdens — repudiated in the 
 most emphatic and solemn manner the Church of England 
 as a system, as a theology, as a Church. 
 
 In a letter, " under the seal," to E. Wilberforce, dated 
 Eome, 12th February 1848, and in a subsequent letter 
 dated 11th March, Manning spoke out his whole mind, 
 heart, and conscience about the Hampden controversy
 
 476 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 without qualification or reserve. This inner voice, if I 
 may so call it, not only condemned, on the one hand, Dr. 
 Hampden as guilty of heresy, but declared, on the other, 
 that it is in vain to speak of the Church of England as 
 a witness to divine truth except as an epitaph.^ 
 
 Another emphatic statement which Manning makes in 
 the first of these two letters is, that the grounds on which 
 he had striven, under God, not without hope, to keep others 
 in the Church of England, were falsified, and that hence- 
 forward he had no moral right to exercise that influence. 
 And yet, on grounds which are capable of justification, he 
 continued to exercise that right almost up to the eve of his 
 becoming a Catholic.^ 
 
 In the following letter, addressed to a friend in England, 
 Archdeacon Manning condemned, even in stronger terms 
 than in his letters to Eobert Wilberforce, Dr. Hampden as 
 " destroying by his book the only foundation of the Apostles' 
 Creed " : — 
 
 Rome, 28th January 1848. 
 
 My dear — I cannot doubt that it was the will of 
 
 God that I should have no part in the miserable conflict which 
 is going on in England, about the See of Hereford. That 
 being clear, I am glad and thankful. You know me well 
 enough to believe that such conflicts are things I mix in 
 ■with pain, and only from the constraint of duty. Being dis- 
 charged from this necessity, I have hardly talked or written 
 about it except to very near friends. But I cannot help 
 writing what, if at home, I should say. It seems to me the 
 most dangerous conflict we have ever had since I can re- 
 member. Indeed I can hardly conceive any much more so. 
 I am deeply convinced that Dr. Hampden's book destroys 
 both the true meaning and the only foundation of the Apostles' 
 Creed. As such I voted against him in 1836, he was lightly 
 censured, and left in passive communion by the Church. The 
 university and certain bishops have stultified their former acts 
 since that time by receiving him as Regius Professor. But the 
 Chiu-ch has been free until now, and now he is put forward for 
 
 ^ See Manning's letters to Robert Wilberforce, chap. xxiv. j^p. 508-14. 
 
 - In addition to tlie above letter, dated 6th May 1850, p. 473, see below 
 another letter of a like ])urport addressed to another penitent, dated 11th 
 July 1850, p. 481.
 
 XXII CONFLICTING CLAIMS OF CONSCIENCE 477 
 
 consecration, -which is in effect to adopt it, and stamp Avith the 
 seal of England the man and his theology. In this I cannot be 
 a partaker ; but as I am not called on as yet to act, I will leave 
 the matter. When the time comes, no doubt, I shall be guided 
 what to do — you all know what I think of Church and State and 
 the like too well to need that I should waste words about it. 
 It has been a miserable business, miserable in public and in 
 private ; and the consequences of it are yet to appear. It is 
 surely an omen that Lord John Russell insulted the Dean of 
 Hereford from Woburn Abbey. It seemed strange to me to see 
 in the papers, that the rural deans of the Archdeaconry of 
 Chichester were convening the Chapters. And now I can only 
 commend you all, as I do daily, to His keeping, Who will in yet 
 a little while bring peace at the last. — Yours affectionately, 
 
 H. E. M. 
 
 Manning's arguments in his letters to Eobert Wilberforce, 
 against Dr. Hampden, convicting him of holding heretical 
 opinions, and showing that his errors were still unretracted 
 and unrepented of, would have exercised, had they been pub- 
 lished, no inconsiderable influence in the heat and height of 
 the fierce controversy. In the day when Bishop Wilber- 
 force recoiled before the storm, had Manning spoken out in 
 public, it would have strengthened the hands of the Tract- 
 arians and of the High Church party, weakened by the 
 sudden desertion of Samuel Wilberforce. But Wilberforce's 
 running away, and Manning's unaccountable silence, gave 
 the victory to Lord John Kussell and the Erastian party. 
 Manning's real mind, it cannot be doubted, was spoken in 
 his letters to Robert Wilberforce. 
 
 The essential difference between the two voices which 
 spoke in Manning is shown in the startHng contrast 
 between the principles avowed in his private communica- 
 tions, and those made use of or accepted in public, when, 
 on his return to England, Manning, speaking as Archdeacon 
 of Chichester in his public voice, did his best to minimise 
 Dr. Hampden's errors, and to slur over the offence com- 
 mitted by his appointment and consecration as Bishop of 
 Hereford — conduct and errors repudiated and condemned 
 with such vigour in his letters to Eobert Wilberforce. 
 
 Let me now recite a passage or two from a Charge
 
 478 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 delivered in July 1848 by the Archdeacon of Chichester 
 on the gi'ave question of Dr. Hampden's orthodoxy or 
 heterodoxy. Dr. Hampden, during the Archdeacon's ab- 
 sence in Eome, had been consecrated Bishop of Hereford. 
 In this Charge it was Manning's public voice which spoke 
 his mind to the world at large, in contradistinction to the 
 private voice to which we have been listening, speaking in 
 confidence to Eobert Wilberforce. 
 
 After various explanations and qualifications of Dr. 
 Hampden's errors, and after recalling the warning, " Judge 
 not, that ye be not judged," the Archdeacon spoke as 
 follows : — 
 
 I am deeply persuaded that in the late contests there are on 
 both sides many of whose truth I have as full an assurance as 
 of my own, and of whose goodness I have a deeper conviction. 
 With these remarks I will go on to speak of the recent appoint- 
 ment to the See of Hereford. 
 
 Taking the case as a whole, we may begin by distinguishing 
 between the question as to the doctrinal opinions of the Right 
 Rev. person appointed to that see, and the question as to the 
 manner in which his consecration was effected. Into the former 
 question it is no longer our duty to enter, First, because the 
 Church as such has never passed judgment on the theology of 
 Dr. Hampden. He has never been cited and judged before any 
 consistory or tribunal of the Chm-ch. Whatever his opinions 
 may be, they are, therefore, unascertained by any authoritative 
 ecclesiastical decision ; Secondly, the censure of the University of 
 Oxford in the year 1846 did not pronounce his doctrine to be 
 heretical, or to savour of heresy, or to be scandalous, or to be 
 offensive to pious ears and the like. It did not specify or 
 characterise the nature of its unsoundness according to the defini- 
 tions of ecclesiastical usage. It declared in terms just and grave 
 indeed as a censure, but wholly informal and imperfect as a judg- 
 ment, that he had " so treated theological matters that in this 
 respect the University had no confidence in him." So that 
 there exists no formal decision of any tribunal at all, ecclesiastical 
 or even academical, stamping the doctrine of Dr. Hampden 
 Avith a specific character of heterodoxy. 
 
 Up to this moment, then, the party accused has never been 
 condemned by any tribunal of the Church. . . . Until, there- 
 fore, any member of the Church be judicially pronounced by a 
 proper tribunal to be unsound, he ought to be publicly treated 
 as orthodox. No man is a lieretic to us who is not a heretic
 
 XXII CONFLICTING CLAIMS OF CONSCIENCE 479 
 
 to the Church ; and no man is to the Church a heretic but one 
 who has been condemned in for o extcriori for heresy. . . . 
 
 Again, it is not only possible, but it is just, to use this 
 equity of individual judgment ; because at various, and some of 
 them most solemn times — as at the moment of consecration — 
 the Right Reverend person of whom we speak declared his 
 acceptance of the whole doctrine of Faith. He was consecrated, 
 not upon the confession of his theological works, but on public 
 subscription of the Catholic creeds. Sincere subscription, thereby 
 condemning all heresies, is all that has ever been required to 
 reinstate any, however compromised by heterodoxy, in the peace 
 of the Church. Of subscription the fact of consecration is our 
 pledge ; of sincerity, who dares conceive a doubt 1 For these 
 reasons it appears that we are now released from the necessity of 
 forming opinions as to past theological statements justly censured, 
 we may accept the last public subscription as a fact closing up 
 a retrospect which nothing but new necessity can re-open.^ 
 
 In a letter, dated Freshwater, 10th August 1848, 
 W. Dodsworth objected to the following statement in 
 reference to Dr. Hampden made by Manning in his Charge, 
 that " no man is a heretic to us who is not a heretic to 
 the Church ; and no man is to the Church a heretic but 
 one who has been condemned in foro exteriori for heresy," 
 and wrote as follows : — 
 
 What you say is literally and legally true, but I think you 
 scarcely include the whole mwal view of the matter ; a murderer 
 or pickpocket may escape through defect or maladministration 
 of the law (as indeed has often happened), but yet he is in a 
 certain mai'al position in society not to be overlooked. It would 
 be a delicate matter to bring this out in Hampden's case ; and 
 yet, I think, after what you have said justly of his legal 
 innocence, it is almost needed. 
 
 The following letter of George Moberly to Manning 
 shows that, after leaving England in 1847, Manning had 
 expressed himself in regard to the Church of England in 
 terms which had given umbrage to Keble and Moberly : — 
 
 Winchester College, 8th September 1848. 
 My dear Manning — Many thanks to you for the kind 
 
 ^ A Charge delivered at the Ordinary Visitation of the ArcJideacon of 
 Chichester in July 1848.
 
 480 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 present of your Charge, which I received a few days ago and 
 read -snth extreme interest. I was very happy to see how 
 hopefully you regarded the forward prospect, and most trul}' 
 rejoice to think that you are come back better and stronger to 
 do additional good service for the Church of God among us. 
 
 I felt anxious — whenever I could do so without troubling you 
 by it — to say in reference to the correspondence which passed 
 between us in the month of March, that you were surprised at 
 the tone of Keble's and my letters. I fancied so from the terms 
 of your most kind reply. But you probably had not recollected 
 the precise expressions of your former letter, which, as we now 
 fully know, we misinterpreted ; but which, for the purpose of 
 explaining what otherwise must have seemed hardly kind, or 
 indeed intelligible, I ^vill quote — 
 
 " The Church of England I left behind me, is not the church 
 I shall, if God so will, return to, unless by His blessing, you and 
 others shall have reversed those events. Pray do not think me 
 unreasonable in desiring to stand as well with you as I can." 
 
 Shall we see you at Keble's consecration of his church ? It 
 will hardly be, I believe, before November. . . . Believe me, my 
 dear Manning, yours affectionately, George Mop.erly. 
 
 Writing to Eobert Wilberforce under date about criti- 
 cisms on his Charge, Manning says : — 
 
 Lavington, 8th November 1848. 
 
 My dear Robert — ... I somehow feel slow to take a 
 foremost part in anything. . . . 
 
 This too makes me very patient about my Charge. No man 
 owning a head could misunderstand me to clear a man from the 
 guilt of heresy who, in two places, I say was " justly censured." 
 I have seen nothing that moves me. But I have misgivings 
 in my own mind about it. The parts of what I say which 
 have not been found fault with, are by no means satisfactory 
 to me. And I get no better satisfaction the more I think of 
 them. Only accept it as a proof that I am desirous to err on the 
 side of hope and patience ; and that often thoughts which all but 
 subdue me are not born of impatience or unbelief. — Farewell, 
 May we be kept from all illusions. — Yours ever affectionately, 
 
 H. E. Manning. 
 
 In spite of his minimising in public Dr. Hampden's 
 heresies, Manning's mind was breaking loose from its 
 shackles. In a letter dated Lavington, Holy Innocents,
 
 XXII CONFLICTING CLAIMS OF CONSCIENCE 481 
 
 1 8 -i 9, to Eobert Wilberforce,^ Archdeacon Maiming absolutely 
 repudiated Protestantism in all its forms. He rejected the 
 Anglican Church. He could no longer defend its theology, 
 its faith, " I simply do not believe it." Yet of the English 
 Church, which, according to his letter, dated 1847, had so 
 faded out of his mind that he could not say he rejected it, 
 but that he knew it no more. Manning felt constrained by 
 what he considered to be his duty as a spiritual director 
 to write, even after the Gorham Judgment had been pro- 
 noimced and accepted by the Bishops, to one of his penitents 
 as follows : — 
 
 Lavington, nth July 1850. 
 
 Dear Madam — I will endeavour to give you some statement 
 of the ground on which I think you may "without fear trust 
 yourself to the mercy of God through Jesus Christ in the 
 Church of England at this time. 
 
 The Church of God upon earth has what I may call its inner 
 and its outer sphere. 
 
 The inner sphere is the fellowship of the soul with God 
 through Jesus Christ, and a life of faith, love, repentance, and 
 devotion. 
 
 The outer sphere is the visible order of succession, govern- 
 ment, canonical discipline, and the like. 
 
 I believe that your probation lies in the inner sphere, and 
 there all is clear and infallible. We have no doubt that no 
 penitent can perish, and that no soul that loves God can be lost ; 
 moreover, that God will give both love and penitence to all who 
 pray for it. 
 
 But in the outer sphere it is impossible to judge of con- 
 troverted questions without so much of intellect and knowledge, 
 and that knowledge so various and of such difficulty to attain 
 and estimate, that I feel no doubt in saying that any errors you 
 may there be in Avill be tenderly dealt with by Him "who 
 spared not His own Son " that He might save our souls. 
 
 When I come to look at the Church of England, I see a 
 living, continuous succession of Christian people under their 
 pastors, descending from the earliest ages to this day ; and 
 although it has had to bear mutilations and breaches in its 
 external order and in its relations to the other churches, yet it 
 seems to me to possess the divine life of the Church, and the 
 divine food of that life, the Word and Sacraments of Christians. 
 
 ^ See letter to Robert Wilberforce, chap. xxiv. p. 515. 
 VOL. I 2 I
 
 482 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 So I have been able to feel hitherto. Late events have 
 called this in question, but it seems to me too soon yet to pass 
 sentence upon it. No one can say how long or how short a 
 time may decide it ; for in these questions it is not dial time, 
 but moral time — that is events, acts, and changes, that must 
 decide it. In the meanwhile, I do not feel any fear of resting 
 for salvation within that inner sphere which cannot be shaken ; 
 for there all is clear and divine. 
 
 As to the outer, the questions, always difhcult, are now still 
 more so, and I am therefore even more full of hope that God 
 will deal tenderly with all who sincerely desire to do His will. 
 
 Catechumens dying without baptism are held to be baptized in 
 voto ; and persons desiring to be in the Church, if, through ignor- 
 ance or error they be out of it, will nevertheless be reckoned in 
 it by the mercy of God. All this I feel applies fully to you, and I 
 have no doubt in saying that you may " rest in hope," waiting 
 to see the way and will of God with this great and lifeful body, 
 the Church of England, meanwhile giving yourself to a life of 
 faith which is not an intellectual state, but a habit of grace in 
 the soul, infused by the Holy Spirit, and nourished by medita- 
 tion, prayer, and obedience. 
 
 I trust and pray that God may increase this in us all, and 
 give you all solace that is for your good. — Believe me, dear 
 madam, your faithful servant in Christ, H. E. MANNING. 
 
 In the Archdeacon of Chichester's Diary, seen of no 
 man's eye, in its day, we may reasonably expect to find a 
 truer transcript of his mind on religious questions than in 
 his public utterances, controlled, of necessity, by prudence 
 and discretion, by the fitness of times and seasons, and by 
 the fear of giving scandal or of provoking controversy. In 
 the silent entries or confessions of a diary there is less 
 likelihood, too, of the intrusion of self-consciousness than in 
 letters to friends or confessors. Letters, even under the 
 seal, are not so sacred or private as are the entries in a 
 diary. 
 
 On the other hand, Manning's Diary, dated 1844-47, was, 
 in its earlier portions, from which I have already quoted, 
 chiefly concerned with minute self-introspection ; with ex- 
 aminations of conscience as to his spiritual state ; or with 
 what he called his " temptations to secularity." Apart from 
 his Diary, the first indications of his religious doubts and 
 difficulties in regard to the Church of England were given in
 
 XXII CONFLICTING CLAIMS OF CONSCIENCE 483 
 
 his letter of 1847 to Laprimaudaye, his curate and con- 
 fessor. From the deliberation of his character and the 
 slow processes of his mind it would be natural to infer 
 that the doubts and difficulties which he confessed in 1847 
 were not of recent growth. Nor were they, for in the 
 year 1846 Manning in his Diary brings, if he believed in 
 it at all, an almost cruel indictment against the Church of 
 England, He describes it as diseased organically and 
 functionally, and with a ruthless knife — if indeed it were 
 not the kind knife of a surgeon — he dissects the diseased 
 body. In this operation there is not a touch or sign of the 
 tenderness or regret which in his letters to Eobert Wilber- 
 force of a later period he exhibited towards the Church 
 which he had once loved, but could no longer believe in. 
 The following entry in the Diary is dated August 1846. 
 
 The Chm'ch of England seems to me to be diseased : — 
 1. Organically. 2. Functionally. 
 
 (1) Separation from Church toto (!) Loss of daily service. 
 
 orbe diffusa SindiTOTaCathe- (2) Loss of discipline. 
 dra Petri. (3) Loss of unity. 
 
 (2) Subjection to ci\dl power i. Devotion. 
 
 witlwut appeal. ii. Ritual. 
 
 (3) Abolition of penance. (4) No education for priesthood. 
 
 (4) Extinction of daily sacrifice. (5) Unsacerdotal life. 
 
 (5) Loss of minor orders. i. Bishops, ii. Priests. 
 
 (6) Mutilated ritual (6) Church effaced from popular 
 
 conscience. 
 (7) Popular unbelief of mys- 
 teries. Insensibility of 
 invisible world. 
 
 The second entry is dated August 1846. 
 
 1. We give up all Protestants, and stand alone and against 
 East and West on a plea of deliverance from bondage, and a 
 greater purity of doctrine and life. 2. Can we maintain this 1 
 HoAV has the experiment issued 1 What are its phenomena past 
 and present as to unity and belief of the Real Presence ? 3. 
 The Lutheran, the Calvinist, and each would go upon the same 
 theory excluding us. 4. It seems incoherent and inverted to 
 talk of catholicising the Church : we are not means of grace to 
 it, but it to us. The Church must catholicise itself, or rather
 
 484 CARDINAL .MANNING chap. 
 
 cannot be uncatholic, though ive may. 5. "Wherever it seems 
 healthy it approximates the system of Kome, e.g. Roman Catholic 
 Catechism, Confession, Gruidance, Discipline. 6. These things 
 are potentially ours, but actually we have forfeited them. Using 
 is having, and the Roman Church has them. 7. The same is true 
 of the monastic life. The dissolution of monasteries would not 
 have extinguished the spirit of monasticism if it had existed. The 
 orders were destroyed in France in 1 7 90, but can now count 35,000 
 members. In England, the Roman Church has already formed 
 30 convents. If we had the life we should have the orders. 
 8. The Church of England, after 300 years, has failed — 
 
 (1) In unity of doctrine. 
 
 (2) In enforcement of discipline. 
 
 (3) In training to the higher life. 
 
 (4) In holding the love as distinct from the respect of the 
 people. 
 
 (5) In guiding the rich. 
 
 (6) In folding the people. 
 
 At an earlier date, May 1846, is the following entry : — 
 
 I am conscious to myself of an extensively changed feeling 
 towards the Church of Rome. 
 
 It seems to me nearer to the truth, and the Church of 
 England in greater peril. Our divisions seem to me to be fatal 
 as a token, and as a disease. 
 
 If division do not unchurch us it will waste us away. 
 
 I am conscious of being less and less able to preach dogmatic- 
 ally. If I do so, I go beyond our formularies. Though not 
 therefore Roman, I cease to be Anglican. 
 
 I am conscious that my sympathy and confidence are much 
 lessened. 
 
 There seems about the Church of England a want of anti- 
 quity, system, fulness, intelligibleness, order, strength, unity ; 
 we have dogmas on paper ; a ritual almost universally aban- 
 doned ; no discipline, a divided episcopate, priesthood, and 
 laity. 
 
 I seem to feel something by an impression of consciousness 
 not to be reasoned out : 
 
 1. If John the Baptist were sanctified from the womb, how 
 much more the B. V. ! 
 
 2. If Enoch and Elijah were exempted from death, why not 
 the B. V. from sin ?
 
 XXII CONFLICTING CLAIMS OF CONSCIENCE 485 
 
 3. It is a strange way of loving the Son to slight the mother ! 
 
 The following reflections and self-questionings clearly 
 indicate that Manning's mind was approaching step by step 
 to the judgment on the English Church recorded in the 
 first passage quoted from his Diary : 
 
 5th July 1846. — Strange thoughts have visited me: 
 
 1. I have felt that the Episcopate of the English Church is 
 secularised, and bound down beyond hope. 
 
 2. That there are no KoLvai ewoiai to which to appeal for its 
 restoration. 
 
 3. I have felt less desire for parliament and pubHc station. 
 
 4. And greater difficulty in arguing in favour of the English 
 Chiu-ch, and in answering objections. 
 
 5. Also greater difficulty in objecting against the Roman 
 Church, 
 
 6. I feel as if a light had fallen on me. My feeling about 
 the Roman Church is not intellectual. I have intellectual diffi- 
 culties, but the great moral difficulties seem melting. 
 
 7. Something keeps rising and saying, " You will end in the 
 Roman Church." 
 
 8. And yet I do not feel at all as if my safety requires any 
 change, and I do feel that a change might be a positive delusion. 
 
 9. I think it is a changed feeling towards the two Churches 
 which makes me less secular and desirous of elevation. 
 
 10. The thought which has been growing in me, and justi- 
 fying the Roman doctrine, is the " new creation." ^ All seem to 
 hang on this — 
 
 (1) The Incarnation. 
 
 (2) The Real Presence, i. Regeneration, ii. Eucharist. 
 
 (3) The Exaltation of S. M. and Saints. 
 
 Right or wrong, this family of doctrines is preserved by Rome, 
 and cut or regulated by Protestantism. 
 
 And I see that the regula fidei is held by those who hold 
 them, and lost by those who have lost them. 
 
 11. Is all this listening to the tempter? 
 
 12. Are they clouds out of a declining heart ? 
 
 13. Is instability and love of novelty the set-ofi" and counter- 
 poise to ambition 1 
 
 14. Have I ofiended as much by the seven deadly sins, and 
 against God's ten commandments, and two precepts, lately as 
 before ? I think not. 
 
 ^ The creation of the Jerusalem bishopric.
 
 486 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 15. IMay not this be a feint of the tempter? I fearfully 
 mistrust myself, especially when I see that those who stay seem 
 humbler than those who have left us. 
 
 16. I do not feel that 1 should doubt a moment if the choice 
 lay between Rome and any Protestant body. 
 
 17. It is only because the English Church seems to me to be 
 distinct from all Protestant bodies that I have any doubt. 
 
 18. If the Church of England were away there is nothing in 
 Rome that would repel me with sufficient repulsion to keep me 
 separate, and there is nothing in Protestantism that would 
 attract me. 
 
 19. Is the English Church enough to alter the whole case ? 
 
 20. I think so. 
 
 21. Yet I am conscious that I am further from the English 
 Church and nearer Rome than I ever was. 
 
 22. How do I know where I may be two years hence 1 
 Where was Newman five years ago ? 
 
 May I not be in an analogous place 1 
 
 23. Yet I have no positive doubts about the Church of 
 England. I have difficulties — but the chief thing is the drawing 
 of Rome. It satisfies the whole of my intellect, sympathy, 
 sentiment, and nature, in a way proper, and solely belonging to 
 itself. The English Church is an approximate. 
 
 24. And that by my own supplements, ideal, imagination, 
 ritual. 
 
 25. I cannot conceal from myself that the mass of the Church 
 would almost disown me. A large body certainly would. 
 
 " In the mountain of the Lord it shall be seen." 
 
 The meshes seem closing round me. 
 
 I feel less able to say Rome is wrong. 
 
 Less able to retain our own. 
 
 Less able to regain confidence to myself. 
 
 I feel as if I had shaken the confidence of my people. 
 
 And I am unable to restore it by any anti-Roman declarations. 
 
 It is probable that my parish may be troubled. Perhaps He 
 sees that I am settling on my lees. 
 
 My parish, which has steadily risen till now. 
 
 Perhaps it may go back. 
 
 I feel sad and heavy, tongue-tied and worsted. 
 
 \1th July. — The Visitation at Chichester yesterday. Most 
 thankful. Fuller than I ever saw. At the dinner 51 ; 5 
 strangers. 
 
 I had a cold feeling of destiny upon me — till positive acts 
 raised the beat of my pulse and made me forget realities. 
 
 \bth Jtdi/. — To-day is my birthday — 38. This last year has
 
 XXII CONFLICTING CLAIMS OF CONSCIENCE 487 
 
 opened a strange chapter in my life. I never thought to feel as I 
 feel now, and with my foot upon the step of what I once desired. 
 15th July. — . . . The last entries on this day are full of the 
 sorrows of solitude. This year they are less sensibly present to 
 me. Is He weaning me in preparation for some change approach- 
 ing ? Whether it is greater activity I do not know, but under 
 God I have been, I trust, less overcome by old evils. Is Satan 
 holding back these temptations that others may work with 
 greater subtility ? If I serve Satan in one way and by wholesale, 
 he will no doubt suffer me to believe myself clean escaped. 
 
 In the following year, 1847, the Diary, filled during his 
 long illness with confessions and examinations of his spiritual 
 state, contains but one or two entries touching doubts and 
 difficulties on matters of faith. " Illness," as he wrote to 
 Eobert Wilberforce, " is a release from the schools." 
 
 20th April 1847. — The two questions are : — 
 
 1. Is it the will of our Lord Jesus Christ that His flock 
 should be subject to Saint Peter and his successors ? 
 
 2. Is it part of the mystery of Pentecost that the Church 
 should be infallible? 
 
 I have this diflftculty : 
 
 If I treat infallibility as a principle, I meet with difficulties 
 in detail, e.g. Transubstantiation. 
 
 If I judge of the detail, I can find no principle. 
 
 As a principle, it is with Rome. Only details with us. Yet 
 if it be a principle, private judgment in detail is shut out. 
 
 Admitting — 1. The Infallibility of the Church, 
 
 2. The Church of Rome that Church, 
 
 would the residual difficulties to be received on infallibility 
 be so many as in the English Church, e.g. the Canon, the censure 
 of antiquity, the change of the Eucharistic office, and the like ? 
 
 It is curious to note from these entries that the break- 
 down of Manning's belief in the English Church took place 
 so early as 1846, two years before Hampden's appointment 
 and four years before the Gorham Judgment. In his sermons 
 and charges there are not the slightest indications of such 
 a misgiving. In his correspondence with Mr. Gladstone at 
 that period not a hint or suggestion was conveyed — not 
 that the Church of England was organically and function- 
 ally diseased — but that it had fallen from the high ideal of
 
 488 CARDINAL MANNING chap, xxii 
 
 perfection, which Manning had so fervently and eloquently 
 attributed to it in his public utterances. From the evi- 
 dence of his own Diary, from his letters to Laprimaudaye 
 and Robert Wilberforce, it seems as clear as daylight that 
 intellectually Manning had, years before the Gorham Judg- 
 ment, lost faith in the Church of England. The evidence 
 to the contrary, exhibited in his exhortations to his peni- 
 tents, which I have recited, I do not think counts for much. 
 They were touching, beautiful little sermons, which, how- 
 ever, were not the transcript of his own inner mind, which 
 did not express, and were not meant to express, his own 
 belief, but were intended only to induce, for their souls' 
 sake, those under his spiritual guidance to abide for a time, 
 putting their trust in God, in peace and hope where they 
 were. Such exhortations were formal utterances, which he 
 considered it his duty as their spiritual director to address 
 to his penitents. 
 
 His office in the Church, his duty to penitents, the 
 promptings, deep down in his soul, laid upon Archdeacon 
 Manning's heart a complicated burden. But to respond to 
 the conflicting claims of conscience by laying down con- 
 tradictory propositions, though undertaken in good faith, was 
 an attempt in the moral order as impossible as that of 
 squaring the circle. So vain and futile an attempt led, 
 almost of necessity, in various ways, to unfortunate misap- 
 prehensions and troubles. Imputations cast at the time on 
 his honour and honesty, as he confessed in a letter to 
 Eobert Wilberforce, vexed and wounded his heart to the quick. 
 At worst, the double voice which, as we have seen, spoke at 
 times in Manning, was the result of a false system — false in 
 many ways — in which, unhappily, he found himself involved. 
 
 What retained Manning in the English Church so long 
 after he had abandoned faith in its mission and teaching, 
 and what entangled his tongue, were not intellectual, but 
 moral difficulties. Moral difficulties which in his Diary 
 he describes as " temptations to secularity " ; " shrinkings 
 of flesh and blood," as he tells Kobert Wilberforce, from a 
 sacrifice of what was dearest to him in life — his home and 
 hopes ; his office and work in the Church of England.
 
 CHAPTEE XXIII 
 
 ANGLO-CATHOLIC DOCTKINES AND DEVOTIONS 
 
 1841-1851 
 
 In his Diary 1844-47, and in his letters to Laprimaudaye 
 and Kobert Wilberforce, Manning constantly makes use of 
 the somewhat mysterious terms — at all events in those early 
 days — TlThder the Seal, and In Sacro. To the initiated 
 among High Church Anglicans these symbolic terms signi- 
 fied the sacrament of penance or confession and the 
 eucharistic sacrifice ; outside the Anglican community 
 commonly called the Mass. These holy and wholesome 
 Catholic doctrines Manning, as an Anglican, held and taught, 
 if not in public, in private. In his sermons and charges he 
 practised olKovofjila ; or spoke under reserve, or in mere 
 outline, of confession and the eucharistic sacrifice. But in 
 his private exhortations he inculcated these CathoHc doctrines 
 in all their fulness. The Archdeacon of Chichester prac- 
 tised what he preached. He offered up, as I have shown, 
 the eucharistic sacrifice for the quick and the dead. He 
 received penitents in confession ; and exercising the power 
 of the keys, he loosed them from their sins ; pronouncing 
 in due form, while making over them the sign of the cross, 
 the words of absolution. 
 
 Protestant prejudice, popular ignorance, and the hostility 
 of the authorities of their own Church, compelled the unhappy 
 High Church Anglicans to cast a veil of mystery or of 
 secrecy over the practice of confession. Instead of being an 
 ordinary and commonplace act of duty practised coram 
 ecclesia, confession among the Anglicans was, if I may so
 
 490 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 speak, a hole-and-corner affair, spoken of with bated breath, 
 and carried on under lock and key. 
 
 None knew better than the wiser of the Puseyites — as in 
 this matter they might be aptly called, since Pusey was, if not 
 the creator, the reviver of auricular confession in the Church 
 of England — the mischievous effects of all this fuss and 
 mystery. One of Manning's intimate friends and disciples, 
 who looked up to him as a master in regard to the teach- 
 ing and practice of confession, in a letter dated Wantage 
 Vicarage, 29th August 1840, writes as follows : — 
 
 My DEAR Archdeacon — I, too, have been purposing to 
 write to you to express, or try to express, the deep thankfulness 
 with which I look back on your short abode with us, and the 
 support which your words gave to opinions (or I should rather 
 say to a belief) which have long been growing up in my mind. 
 
 It has seemed to me that our Church, having weakened the 
 difficulties attending the statement of the true faith in regard 
 to the two great means of grace, has been enjoying a kind of 
 ovation, and, if I may say so, running riot in the glorious views 
 which open themselves as consequences. 
 
 The Vicar of Wantage, the Eev. William J. Butler, after 
 stating that the clergy as a body have been neglecting the 
 sterner and more practical methods, are greatly needing 
 a higher standard of reHgious aiming, deeper spirituality, 
 and stricter self-examination, complains with great warmth 
 that instead of confession being regarded as an ordinary 
 duty, a halo of romance was thrown around it by the 
 secrecy and mystery which attended the practice. He 
 then goes on as follows : — 
 
 " The difficulty with which, as Vicar of Wantage, I am con- 
 fronted in the practice of hearing confessions is the opposition 
 to be feared on the part of the husband to the wife's ' opening 
 her grief to another man." In his appeal to Manning for 
 counsel on this difficulty, the Vicar of Wantage suggested that 
 the confessions of married women ought not to be countenanced 
 in the Church of England. But he was in doubt whether such a 
 limitation of the right and liberty of confession was lawful or 
 allowable. It seemed like a surrender to a false principle. 
 
 How Manning himself met a like difficulty is shown in the
 
 xxiii ANGLO-CATHOLIC DOCTRINES AND DEVOTIONS 491 
 
 following letter to Mrs. Herbert, the wife of Sidney Herbert.^ 
 It is a bold and masterly refutation of the supposed right of 
 a husband to control the conscience of a wife in a matter 
 of direct duty to God and of obedience to His ordinances : — 
 
 London, 2bth August 1848. 
 
 My dear Mrs. Herbert — Your letter contained a strange 
 contrast of subjects between the interest of your journey and 
 the sad scene you left at Ryde. 
 
 It is, indeed, a mournful tale ; and I trust God will comfort 
 him, for nobody else can. 
 
 I went the week before last to Wantage, and found all going 
 on as I could most wish. The parish is an old county town, 
 much neglected in time past, but dissent weak, and the Church 
 in a passive but recoverable state. The present vicar is an 
 excellent and most devoted man, and with him he has three 
 equally earnest young men ; so that they have strength enough 
 for anything ; and the whole system seems to be waking up under 
 their touch. Miss Lockhart is established in an old small house, 
 with a very pretty strip of garden at the back, most private and 
 quiet. She has two companions with her, and her work is to be 
 found about five hours a day in the school. The rest of her 
 time is ordered on a very even and good rule of employments 
 and devotion. The vicar is the visitor and guardian of the 
 house, and is most worthy and fit in every way for this office. 
 
 She is in correspondence with Miss Nightingale about school 
 matters. 
 
 And now let me come to the last matter in your letter, Sid- 
 ney's feeling is conclusive as to what you ought to do. When 
 the Church lays no injunction (as in the present case) his wish is 
 your rule. With one so loving and so good you can have little 
 doubt that all things necessary for your spiritual welfare will 
 always be abundantly provided for you. I am now, in fact, 
 writing to you both ; and my love to him makes me sensitively 
 anxious to add a few more words. The subject being already laid 
 aside as a practical question, what I add is simply because truth 
 (and truth which is divine) makes it necessary that I should set 
 right a point which, if I were silent, might be mistaken. 
 
 You wrote of " an entire surrender." Is not this to be limited 
 by the law of God ? Conscience and religion are due to God 
 alone, and cannot be surrendered. No woman can forsake the 
 worship of the Church or the Holy Sacrament on the ground of 
 prohibition. God commands, and no man can forbid. So, if. 
 
 Now Lady Herbert of Lea.
 
 492 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 upon her death-bed, she is burdened in mind and desires to con- 
 fess, no human prohibition can hinder. 
 
 So again, if " unable to quiet herself," before coming to the 
 Holy Sacrament, she desires to open her grief to God's minister, 
 no fellow-creature can come between her and the absolution of 
 Christ. 
 
 But I feel sure that you both intended these limitations ; I 
 only refer to them because I should reproach myself for an 
 omission of duty if I seemed to accept the words without such 
 restrictions as the law of God has made. But there is another 
 point on which, for my own sake also, I wish to add a word. 
 
 When you speak of a confidence which tends to separate those 
 whom God has joined, you did not think I would accept such a 
 confidence to save my life. Nor that any part of the office of 
 Christ's servants has a tendency to such separation. He does 
 not contradict Himself ; or throw down what He has built up. 
 
 If it merely mean that such an office may be misused, that 
 is true, for even the Holy Sacraments are the occasions of 
 sacrilege. 
 
 But such is not the effect or tendency of the office which He 
 created and conferred by the words, " Whosesoever sins ye remit, 
 the}^ are remitted unto them ; and whosesoever sins ye retain, 
 they are retained." Perhaps it is an over-sensitiveness of mind, 
 as well as a love for you both, my dear friends, which makes me 
 feel a very lively anxiety that you should rightly understand me. 
 
 Any confidence inconsistent with the will and commission of 
 our Lord as expressed above, I trust, God helping me, I would 
 rather die than accept. 
 
 But I cannot even by silence countenance the thought that 
 His commission and institution are other than holy, blessed, and 
 merciful. Dear Sidney, and both of you, accept this from a very 
 unworthy friend who heartily loves you, and does his best to 
 pray for you daily. And do you both remember him in your 
 prayers who not only as a friend desires that God may ever bless 
 you both. — Believe me, for His sake, yours ever, 
 
 H. E. Manning.^ 
 
 It was a common practice for Manning, even in the days 
 when in his charges or sermons he was denouncing 
 " Romanism " and the popes, to hear confessions at Laving- 
 ton and Oxford, as well as at Wantage and elsewhere. It 
 
 ' It is a pity such a letter as this, explaining the principle that underlies 
 the relation of confessor and penitent, had not been published in that day of 
 gross misstatements and bitter controversy.
 
 XXIII ANGLO-CATHOLIC DOCTRINES AND DEVOTIONS 493 
 
 must be admitted that " the halo of romance " thrown round 
 the practice of confession — of which the Vicar of Wantage 
 so feelingly complained, was in no small measure due to the 
 mystery or secrecy attached to the performance of the act, 
 even by Manning himself. At Lavington, for instance, it was 
 his practice to walk from the rectory to the church at a 
 time when no service was going on, and no congregation 
 present ; in a few minutes, by appointment, his penitent 
 would follow. On one occasion, when a near relative of the 
 Archdeacon's was staying with her family at the rectory, 
 the children, playing of an afternoon in the grounds, were 
 surprised to see " Uncle Henry" walking towards the church. 
 No bell had rung for service : the church was closed. 
 Presently their mother passed along the gravel walk in the 
 same direction. In their eager curiosity to discover the 
 meaning of this novel proceeding the children scampered 
 across the lawn to the church door, when their wondering 
 eyes discovered " Uncle Henry " seated on a big armchair 
 with his back to the altar, and their mother kneeling on 
 the altar step.^ 
 
 Many of Manning's penitents in his Anglican days have 
 given me the benefit of their experiences of his method and 
 manner as a confessor and spiritual director. They all are 
 
 1 In his Beminisccnces of Cardinal Manning, the late Father Lockhart 
 likemse bore witness to the mystery attending the practice of confession ; to 
 the strict secrecy enforced by the locking of the door of the silent and empty 
 church. Archdeacon Manning had come up to Oxford and was staying at 
 Merton College. Father Lockhart gave the following gi'aphic account of his 
 first confession to the archdeacon: — " It was arranged that I should go to 
 him on the next day. He was waiting for me, and taking the keys of the 
 church we entered that beautiful gem of fourteenth-centmy Gothic. I do 
 not think 1 had seen it before. I do not remember to have seen it since, 
 but I well remember the solemn impression of the place in its ' dim religious 
 light.' When we were alone in the church he locked the door, and, having 
 put on his surplice, he led me to the altar rail and made me kneel there. He 
 read over to me from the large folio Service Book the prayer ' Renew in him, 
 most loving Father, whatsoever hath been decayed by the fraud and malice 
 of the devil, or by his own carnal will and frailty. ' I have never forgotten 
 the deep seriousness of those moments. Then I made my confession, but in 
 a most imperfect manner ; he asked me not a question, but I believe I made 
 it with such sincerity and resolve against sin, that I have great hope that, 
 quite independent of the words of absolution, God gave me the grace of true 
 contrition." — Dublin Eevieiv, April 1892, p. 375.
 
 494 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 of one mind in testifying to his kindly, personal interest 
 in their spiritual welfare and mode of life. His manner 
 was solemn, impressive in the extreme, and " almost 
 awful," as one of his penitents described it. He spoke 
 with absolute assurance and authority, as one holding 
 " the keys." He never allowed any one for an instant 
 to forget his position as a penitent on his knees before 
 him, mentally as well as physically. Any doubts as 
 to the safety of remaining in the Church of England 
 or desires or inclinations to join the Church of Eome, 
 were suppressed as temptations to evil. The confessor 
 laid it down as a law that all doubts should be put aside, 
 as well as everything which led to such doubts ; such 
 as intercourse with Eoman Catholics, controversial reading, 
 intellectual discussions on religious topics. His penitents 
 were bade to remain where they were : to devote more time 
 to prayer and meditation : to cultivate the interior life, 
 where at any rate safety was : to put their trust in God ; 
 and in humility of heart leave themselves in His hands. 
 Though he never, like Pusey, took upon himself " the respon- 
 sibility before God of the souls of his penitents" — an assump- 
 tion so monstrous as to be almost inconceivable — Manning 
 succeeded by the profession of the certitude of his belief in 
 the English Church — never expressed with greater authority 
 up to the last than in the confessional — to retain captive 
 his penitents, many of whom remained captive still, until 
 the conversion of their confessor and spiritual director set 
 them free. 
 
 To those of his penitents who were more advanced in 
 spiritual life their confessor would give detailed rules in 
 writing for their guidance. With this end in view he 
 prescribed for every day in the week spiritual exercises, 
 meditations, and examination of conscience in special refer- 
 ence to their besetting sin. Such examination was to be 
 made in preparation for confession. 
 
 The question of jurisdiction or of receiving " faculties " 
 from their bishops did not seem for an instant to trouble 
 the head of these father confessors in the Anglican Church. 
 Pusey appears to have enjoyed a roving commission as con-
 
 xxiii ANGLO-CATHOLIC DOCTRINES AND DEVOTIONS 495 
 
 fessor-general to penitents in every diocese, without leave or 
 license from the bishop. Manning, if not so public or pro- 
 lific a father confessor as Pusey, had no scruples in hearing 
 confessions and giving absolutions outside his own parish 
 church or archdeaconry or diocese.^ Bishop Otter, in his easy, 
 good-natured way, might have granted " faculties," or leave 
 and license, had he for a moment fancied he possessed such 
 a power, to the Archdeacon of Chichester. But of a 
 certainty Bishop Shuttleworth would have scouted with 
 indignation the bare mention of such a thing as the sacra- 
 ment of Penance, had Manning so far forgotten his prudence 
 or diplomatic tact as to have spoken to his bishop on the 
 subject of confession. But some other bishops — a few, indeed 
 — did not condemn confession as a " Popish " practice. In 
 a letter to Manning, dated Hursley Vicarage, 22nd Sunday 
 after Trinity, 1848, Keble says: — "You know the Bishop 
 of London has been advised by Upton Eichards of what he 
 does in the way of confession and absolution, and has 
 made no difficulty about it. The St. Saviour's people 
 (Leeds) do not go one inch beyond it, if so far." This is 
 the postscript to Keble's letter, which, however, contains 
 the pith of it, since it shows that Dr. Blomfield, Bishop 
 of London, gave at any rate tacit sanction to the practice 
 of confession. 
 
 Though the hearing of confessions was practised with 
 impunity by Mr. Upton Eichards and others in London, by 
 Dr. Pusey everywhere, and by Archdeacon Manning at 
 Lavington and Oxford, it was denounced and prohibited at 
 St. Saviour's, by Dean Hook, Vicar of Leeds. 
 
 In the following letter Archdeacon Manning recom- 
 mended one of his own penitents to the Eev. W. Dodsworth, 
 Perpetual Curate of Christ Church, St. Pancras, as a fit and 
 proper person for spiritual direction : — 
 
 ^ The old habit, engrained in the Archdeacon of Chichester, of hearing 
 confessions in any diocese he thought fit, without asking the Bishop's per- 
 mission, showed itself for a time in the Archbishop of Westminster. Manning 
 fancied that, as archbishop or metropolitan, he had the right to hear con- 
 fessions in any diocese. He, however, after his attention had been called to 
 the matter, gave up doing so, saying that he thought it "safer" to obtain 
 from the Bishop of the diocese permission to hear confessions.
 
 496 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 44 Cadogan Place. 
 
 My DEAREST Friend — This note vnll be given to you by my 
 friend Richard Cavendish, who has asked me to commend him 
 to a confessor, who will be able to see him when he needs it in 
 London. 
 
 To whom can I commend him but to yourself, knowing how 
 true-hearted and loving you are as a friend 1 ^ 
 
 You "will find him most excellent in every way. Ill health 
 has perhaps made him more sensitive than he need be ; and he 
 Avill be worthy of all your tenderness. 
 
 I believe his whole heart to be set upon loving God and 
 saving his soul. My impression of his goodness is very great. 
 
 You will, I know, receive him and cherish him for his own 
 sake and for mine. — Believe me, my dearest friend, yours very 
 affectionately in J. C. H. E. Manning. 
 
 On the subject of confession Manning wrote as follows 
 to E, Wilberforce : — 
 
 Lavington, ith December 1848. 
 
 My DEAREST Egbert — We cannot differ about any matter 
 of moment. Perhaps it is that I do not understand what you 
 write about confession. In one of your letters to me at Eome 
 you said the same ; I did not say anything, supposing that we 
 mean the same thing. 
 
 It appears to me that confession can in no way be called a 
 coimsel of perfection. It may be of the nature of a counsel to 
 confess frequently. But confession is the precept of penitence. 
 Even among us, where it is voluntary, it is an act of repentance, 
 not of perfection. And the preaching it with all strength is 
 most needed by those who are furthest off from perfection. 
 
 But I am sure we must mean the same. As to frequency, no 
 doubt it needs care, like frequent communion. 
 
 Last night I read Lord Chichester's letter with real sorrow. 
 I have great regard for him ; but his letter is odious. — Ever 
 yours very affectionately, H. E. M. 
 
 Spiritual direction, carried on by means of correspondence, 
 was a favourite method with Archdeacon Manning, partly 
 perhaps on account of the difficulties which beset auricular 
 confession in the Anglican coninmnion in those early days 
 of the Catholic revival, partly because of the wide dispersion 
 of his penitents. In those days, father-confessors in the 
 
 ^ In the Anglican community at the time, the father-confessor was addressed 
 as " Friend," the penitent as " Child " or " Dear Child."
 
 XXIII ANGLO-CATHOLIC DOCTRINES AND DEVOTIONS 497 
 
 Church of England were few — they might perhaps be 
 counted on the fingers of both hands — and penitents, 
 wherever the Tracts for the Times and the sermons of Pusey 
 and Keble reached, were springing up like blades of grass 
 in the early spring. Where others sowed, Manning reaped. 
 His reputation for austere holiness and for prudence at- 
 tracted all those men and women who, in their doubts and 
 difficulties, felt a need for spiritual direction. They who 
 came to him to solve their doubts as to the claims of Eome 
 over their consciences, or as to the shortcomings of the 
 English Church, received in return counsels of perfection. 
 They were bidden, speaking broadly, not to trouble their 
 heads about controversies and deep intellectual discussions 
 which they might or might not understand, but devote their 
 hearts to the love of God and to interior holiness of life. 
 How the growth in holiness was to be attained, Manning 
 pointed out in his spiritual directions to his penitents. For 
 instance, he would teach the virtue of fasting, especially in 
 Advent and Lent, or an additional half-hour given to medi- 
 tation, or to examination of past life, or to preparation for 
 communion, or how to attain a virtue which was wanting, 
 or to overcome a besetting sin. To those of his penitents 
 who were travelling in foreign countries, and therefore unable 
 at holy seasons to keep their spiritual observances, their 
 periods of retirement for meditation or confession, their 
 absent spiritual director enjoined on them acts of interior 
 prayer, mortification of the will, or at table instead of fast- 
 ing — little secret acts of self-denial. They, who came to 
 Manning to solve their religious doubts and difficulties, found 
 in him, not a theological teacher, but a spiritual director, 
 who led them on step by step into the ways of self-denial, 
 humility, and obedience. There was one other lesson left, 
 as was intended, on their hearts and minds. It was this — 
 That they must needs be safe in remaining in a Church 
 which was believed in with such absolute certitude by one 
 so holy and wise as their spiritual director. Many of 
 them were so overawed by his austere presence and by 
 his assured belief as not even to venture to make known 
 their doubts or difficulties. Whether Manning's spiritual 
 VOL. I 2 K
 
 498 CARDINAL MANNING cuap. 
 
 children remained with hini in the Church of England 
 or preceded him to the Church of Eome, there can be 
 little or no question that his spiritual direction did much 
 to promote in all growth in holiness, and even in those of his 
 penitents who adhered unto his guidance to the end, with a 
 few exceptions, their eventual growth in faith. 
 
 Spiritual direction by letters, which Manning practised 
 in the Anglican Church, was developed almost into a fine 
 art in the letters or notes innumerable addressed to his 
 spiritual children in the Catholic Church. In these terse 
 little sermons, the counsels of perfection were presented in 
 the neatest of forms, and embellished with infinite literary- 
 grace. The flavour of personal consideration or affection, 
 enhanced by religious fervour, gave a charm of its own to 
 these spiritual exhortations and to the golden maxims with 
 which they abound. 
 
 It is but bare justice to state that the spiritual direction 
 of Pusey, and Keble, and Manning, and Upton Richards of 
 Margaret Street Chapel, London, and of Bennett of St. 
 Barnabas, and Father Carter of Clewer, and the priests of 
 St. Saviour's, Leeds, and of their successors innumerable to- 
 day in the Church of England, has trained up, all over the 
 land, men and women of exemplary piety, self-denial, and 
 holiness of living. Believing in simple faith, that the priests 
 of their Church possess the power of conferring upon them 
 sacramental graces, crowds of pious and God-fearing Angli- 
 cans are to be found in every town and city of England, 
 attending early celebration, going to confession and com- 
 munion with a zeal and fervour which often puts their 
 Catholic neighbours to shame. 
 
 Speaking, on one occasion, on this subject with Cardinal 
 Manning, he paid a high tribute to the marvellous progress 
 made by the Church of England in our generation. He 
 said : — 
 
 When I first went to work in Sussex in 1833, the churches 
 were open only once a week, on Sundays and on Christmas Day. 
 There were no Saints' days observed : Ascension Day even was 
 not kept. Communion was only given once a year, at least in 
 the country ; in London and other cities not oftener than four
 
 XXIII ANGLO-CATHOLIC DOCTEJNES AND DEVOTIONS 499 
 
 times a year. Spirituality had died out of the Church. Now 
 there are daily services almost everywhere, and frequent com- 
 munions ; in the cities the communions are weekly. Saints' 
 days are kept ; special devotional services and spiritual exercises 
 are common. Churches have been multiplied all over the land, 
 and Christian schools founded and endowed. The Church 
 of England has made a marvellous progress. The wave of 
 Agnosticism, which has passed over the land and affected the 
 intellectual classes, has not retarded its advance. It is going 
 steadily onward towards some great end — who shall doubt it 1 — 
 in the designs of Providence. 
 
 This generous tribute to the great work of the Church 
 of England is all the more worthy of special notice since 
 Manning has often been accused, and at one time perhaps 
 not altogether unjustly, of speaking unkindly or disdain- 
 fully of the English Church. Be that, however, as it may, 
 of late years especially, the Cardinal watched with interest 
 and sympathy the progress of the Church of England. No 
 one can look back at the religious deadness, especially in 
 the Established Church ; the empty formalism of its ser- 
 vices ; its repudiation of the sacramental system ; its 
 Hoadleyism, if I may so speak, which prevailed before the 
 Tractarian movement, and contrast all this darkness and 
 deadness with the light and life to be found to-day in the 
 Anglican Church, without a feeling of wonder and gratitude. 
 Between 1833 and the end of the century the Church of 
 England has been totally transformed in faith, in spirit, and 
 character, by the new life and fire put into it by the 
 labours, the zeal, and the creative genius of John Henry 
 Newman.
 
 CHAPTER XXIV 
 
 UNSETTLEMENT IX FAITH MANNING'S LETTERS 
 
 TO ROBERT WILBERFORCE 
 
 1845-1850 (26th February) 
 
 Unsettlement in religious opinions, a state of mind which 
 Manning deprecated so much in others, had now befallen 
 himself. The remedies or precautions which he had pre- 
 scribed with such fervent confidence in their efficacy to his 
 friends or penitents — and which he still continued to pre- 
 scribe — he now found were of no avail against his own 
 religious doubts and difficulties. " Physician " — false 
 physician — " heal thyself," rang in his ears. He had 
 humbled his heart : had knelt in prayer : had confessed as a 
 sin his doubts, his disbelief in the Church of his birth and 
 baptism. In vain were his meditations on " the saints 
 which, generation after generation, for 300 years, God," as 
 he had fondly imagined, " had raised up as a token of His 
 vivifying presence in the Church of England." He had done 
 more. He had sought in vain such signs and tokens by 
 every device his mind or memory could suggest. In the 
 vain hope of hushing the still small voice, which troubled 
 heart and conscience, he had turned aside, as he bade peni- 
 tents suffering like himself to do, from the contemplation 
 of his own mind ; from religious controversies or discussions ; 
 and had devoted himself with renewed zeal to pastoral work ; 
 or busied liimself, as an ecclesiastical statesman, with plans 
 and projects for liberating the Church from the bondage of 
 the civil power. But all in vain. Archdeacon Manning no 
 longer believed in Anglicanism; its wliole religious system
 
 CHAP. XXIV UNSETTLEMENT IN FAITH 501 
 
 had broken down ; the foundations on which it rested had 
 crumbled beneath his feet. 
 
 What to us now, and henceforward to the end, are the 
 Archdeacon of Chichester's sermons and speeches, or his 
 conferences with bishops or statesmen, or his pubhc acts ? 
 All this is the mere outside show of things ; a system of 
 self-defence against what he considered premature suspicions, 
 or anticipations injurious to his personal or public influence. 
 What the readers of Manning's life are most interested in — 
 care most about knowing — is, what were during these years 
 of trial the inner workings and struggles of his heart and 
 soul, the real state of his religious opinions, and the reasons 
 why he remained an Anglican so long after his faith in the 
 English Church had faded out of his mind. All this is to 
 be found, and found only, in his correspondence with Eobert 
 Wilberforce. 
 
 In his public acts and utterances, charges and sermons, 
 tracts and pamphlets, and in his correspondence, intimate 
 though it was, with Mr. Gladstone, Manning, it must be 
 remembered, did not always think it judicious or expedient 
 to speak his whole mind. 
 
 Manning's correspondence, at least of any moment, with 
 Eobert Wilberforce began in 1843. The earlier letters 
 were, in the main, those of an ecclesiastical statesman, 
 whose chief aim was to liberate the Church of England 
 from the control of parliament, and to confer upon it liberty 
 of independent action and the right of self-government by 
 the establishment of provincial synods.^ 
 
 But Manning's letters to Robert Wilberforce of a later 
 
 ^ The following letter to Robert Wilberforce, dated 5th June 1843, is a 
 specimen of the earlier stage of correspondence. After expressing real sorrow 
 that it was impossible to pay a visit to Yorkshire, Manning says : — "From 
 this time onward I have a succession of work. July is my visitation, and it 
 is all I can do to keep my head above water." . . . "But, believe me, I share 
 Avith you to the full in nil ego contulcri me, especially when you are the 
 amicus; for I know what are the siftings of life in no small measure." 
 Manning then goes on to the subject which at that date lay nearest his heart. 
 Speaking of the competency of Parliament to legislate for the Church, he 
 says : — " It seems to me — (1) That Parliament is the supreme Civil legislature. 
 (2) That its power to legislate for the Church is not derived from its being 
 in communion with the Church ; but (1) From its own authority in all things
 
 502 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 date are those of a man whose sensitive conscience is 
 wounded to the quick by growing doubts, which he frankly 
 and fully confesses in the hope of dispelling them ; but 
 which culminate at last in the year 1849 in an utter 
 break-down of his belief in the Anglican Church. 
 
 In his letters to Robert Wilberforce, which exceed a 
 hundred in number, Manning is seen in many ways to 
 greater advantage than in anything else which he has 
 written. They exhibit, in the first place, real affection and 
 tenderness. Sincerity and perfect candour mark the whole 
 course and contents of this correspondence. There is no 
 affectation, no reserve, no unreality about it. To Eobert 
 Wilberforce Manning spoke out his whole mind and heart. 
 As a seeker after truth he showed intense earnestness, a 
 deep sense of responsibihty, and fear of the Lord. As the 
 truth dawned upon his mind he exhibited, in the spirit of 
 a martyr, a heroic readiness to sacrifice everything dear to 
 his heart, — home and friends, hopes and ambitions, his 
 work and position in the Church. There was humility, too, 
 in the way in which he recognised Eobert Wilberforce's 
 intellectual superiority and deeper reading ; though Manning 
 displayed a stronger will and prompter determination in 
 action, as well as a quicker insight into the untenable 
 position of Anglicanism. There is something very pathetic 
 in the way in which Manning clung to the Church he had 
 loved so well, hoping against hope that it might yet come 
 out of the ordeal, through which it was passing, unscathed. 
 His own prospects, his desire for elevation in the Church of 
 England, which at one period had filled his heart with hope 
 and joy, he had given up, after 1847, because his conscience 
 feared that high ecclesiastical office might darken his 
 
 not spiritual ; (2) From the acquiescence of the Church in tilings in ordine ad 
 spiritualia. 
 
 "The question, therefore, I should put is not — How Parliament forfeited its 
 competency ? but, Is there a case for the Church to withdraw its acquiescence 
 which would be equivalent to an opposition of the two powers, as before 
 Constantino ? I do not think the time has come yet. But it may ; not be- 
 cause of schismatics in Parliament ; but because of the specific acts of Parlia- 
 ment. Such a case might equally arise though both Houses were in communion 
 with the Church."
 
 XXIV UNSETTLEMENT IN FAITH 503 
 
 judgment on pending theological questions, or destroy 
 singleness of eye. In the unsettlement of his religious 
 opinions the hope of a mitre faded out of his heart. 
 
 These letters to Eobert Wilberforce give a clear and 
 connected history of the changes in Manning's rehgious 
 opinions — the gradual growth and remorseless strengthening 
 of his doubts as to the character and position of the English 
 Church ; the drawing of heart and intellect towards the 
 Church of Eome ; and the development of a belief — fatal 
 to Anglicanism — in the Unity and Infallibility of the 
 Church. It was not the Gorham case which shattered 
 Manning's faith in the Church of England, for before the 
 Gorham Judgment was pronounced or formulated he had 
 utterly lost all belief in AngKcanism as forming a part of 
 the Church of Christ. The Gorham Judgment, and the 
 acceptance by the Bishops and by the Church of England 
 collectively, of the royal supremacy in things spiritual, 
 and the " No Popery " outcry, were indeed, under the 
 grace of God, the external agents which drove Manning, 
 still hesitating, still hoping for escape even by a divine 
 interposition, out of the Church of England, and indirectly 
 led to his submission to the Catholic Church. 
 
 Manning's Letters to E. Wilberforce in 1845 
 
 In the first letter of 1845, Manning speaks of the 
 unsettlement of religious opinions even among the elect — 
 for he is speaking of his own penitents — and the difficulty 
 he experiences " in dealing solidly with the realities of our 
 relation to the Eoman Church " : — 
 
 Lavington, 30th Juiu 1845. 
 
 My dear Egbert — I have longed greatly to see you in quiet, 
 and to have the help and benefit of your judgment on some of 
 the heavy events which are hanging over us. 
 
 The extent to which unsettlement has extended itself is a 
 serious matter. At this moment (let this he kept to yourself) I 
 am directly or indirectly in communication with not less than 
 seven cases, I might make the number larger. 
 
 And I deeply feel that, with my little reasoning and constant
 
 504 CARDINAL MANNING chai>. 
 
 active work, it is impossible for me, even if I were by nature 
 able, to deal with the merely intellectual questions which are 
 coming upon us. 
 
 I especially desire to join with you in this because some of 
 the ablest and dearest of those round us fail to satisfy me in 
 some of the conditions necessary for dealing fairly and solidly 
 ■with the realities of our relation to the Roman Church. When- 
 ever we have compared our thoughts I have felt that we feel 
 the same points to be weak and strong. 
 
 You vnW find in the enclosed all I can offer on our last 
 meeting. You have placed me in a position of great rebuke and 
 humiliation, and I thank you for this at least. — Ever yours very 
 affectionately, H. E. Manning. 
 
 Unsettlement, which was vexing the minds of others 
 near and dear to him, had not as yet reached Manning's 
 own mind, at least so far as to shake his belief in the 
 English Church as to make it not safe to stay. But doubts 
 and misgivings as to the Anglican system had already 
 entered into his mind. What however, at this juncture, 
 perplexed him most was the chaotic state of Anglican 
 theology, as the following letter shows : — 
 
 LAvmGTON, 6th October 1845.^ 
 
 . . . Everything, my dear Robert, has conspired to draw us 
 together in brotherly love. . . . Our meetings have been so few 
 and hurried, and I long for a time when we can, ^vithout inter- 
 ruption and alone, really weigh some of the matters which are 
 now forced upon us. 
 
 I was glad some time ago to see by your answer that you are 
 less anxious about the theological questions now afloat than I 
 am. It makes me believe that I am over-sensitive to them, or 
 that I do not yet feel the force of some answers which are really 
 sufl&cient. 
 
 But my anxiety does not extend to doubts, for nothing can 
 shake my belief of the ])resence of Christ in our Church and 
 sacrament. I feel incapable of doubting it : again, the saints 
 who have ripened round our altars for 300 years make it im- 
 possil)le for me to feel it a question of safety. 
 
 But it seems to me that our theology is a chaos, we have no 
 principles, no form, no order, or structure, or science. It seems 
 to me inevitable that there must be a true and exact intellectual 
 tradition of the Gosjiel, and that the scholastic theology is (more 
 
 ^ This was wiitten two days before Newman's reception into the Church.
 
 XXIV UNSETTLEMENT IN FAITH 505 
 
 or less) such a tradition, we have rejected it and substituted 
 nothing in its room. Surely divine truth is susceptible, within 
 the limits of revelation, of an expression and a proof as exact as 
 the inductive sciences. Theology miist be equally capable of a 
 " history and a philosophy " if we had a Master of Trinity to 
 write them. 
 
 This is what I want to see either done or shown to be impos- 
 sible or needless. 
 
 With all kind and brotherly wishes, my dear Robert, yours 
 very affectionately, H. E. M. 
 
 In the years 1846-47 there were but few letters ex- 
 changed between Manning and Eobert Wilberforce. 
 
 In the year 1846, what Manning in his confessions 
 caUed " temptations to secularity," reached their culminating 
 point. In other words, the Archdeacon of Chichester, thrown 
 back by Newman's conversion and its consequences, forbore 
 to pursue his inquiries into the theological difficulties which 
 had beset his mind, forwent his correspondence with R. 
 Wilberforce as to his misgivings about the position of the 
 Anglican Church and its relations to Rome; but on the 
 other hand, striking out a new line of action, he mixed more 
 freely than he had ever done before in London society, 
 political and ecclesiastical, in the view or hope of being 
 recognised as a peacemaker, a healer of the breach in the 
 Church of England, caused by what he and Mr. Gladstone 
 alike called Newman's " fall." Illness, long and severe, in 
 1847, or his going abroad in search of health, interrupted 
 the correspondence, or, as Manning wrote to Robert Wilber- 
 force, " is a release from the schools." 
 
 There were one or two letters after his illness and 
 before he went abroad. Here is one of special interest on 
 Bunsen's Church of the Future : — 
 
 Lavington, llth May 1847. 
 
 My dear Robert — Did our letters cross'? I think they 
 must. If so it is a proof of occult sympathies, if not between 
 archdeacons, at least between you and me. 
 
 Many thanks for your kind words. You know how heartily 
 I feel and return them. My wish to see you arose out of the 
 feeling you expressed on your side ; as well as from affection.
 
 506 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 Since we met I have thought more of the subject of your 
 MS. which you read to me ; and I seem to feel more confirmed 
 in what I said. I should much like to have a time when we 
 could really state and test one or two points on which all others 
 hang. And it seems to me more and more necessary to do so, 
 for I fancy that we are at this time at a crisis. 
 
 As yet it is too soon for the German system to show itself in 
 form, or in any other way than by negations of positive truths, 
 or what is much worse, in destroying the inward belief of positive 
 truths, Avhich are still verbally retained, for instance the words 
 Church, Inspiration, etc. If we look to our rulers, who is there 
 that affirms Catholic dogmas or Catholic tradition for truth 
 or for proof 1 
 
 I have just read the first chapter of Bunsen's Church of the 
 Future, and I have only one word for it, and that is, impudent. 
 Is it possible that this is the amount of knowledge on which he 
 trades ] It is like an Exeter Hall speech. What does he mean 
 by calling the Catholic hierarchy Btjzantine? How did St. 
 Cyprian get his notion of the episcopate ? But these are the 
 great swelling words by which even good and able men are 
 gulled on all sides. But his book is a boon, it is a fresh proof 
 that there is no standing between Protestantism and the fourth 
 century. And to this we are all but come. 
 
 Carey's Dante is a wonderful book as I always think. It not 
 only represents Dante, but it is a masterpiece of English. I quite 
 feel what you say. No book has more entirely got itself into my 
 mind and belief, at least in outline, and it seems to me to be, as 
 you say, a proof of what the Church has had Avritten at all times. 
 
 I do not know when I shall get to London, but I thank God 
 I feel much better. — Ever yours affectionately, 
 
 H. E. Manning. 
 
 44 Cadogan Place, Ith October 1847. 
 
 My dear Robert — As to Innocent I. there is no doubt that 
 the tradition of St. Peter sitting at Antioch, and its consequent 
 precedence, is as long before acknowledged — and the Nicean 
 Council adds Alexandria to the two sedes Petri, the only two 
 existing Patriarchates. I feel this go the other way. The 
 "non tarn audi" would have no force, if the fact of St. Peter's 
 chair had not been already acknowledged. 
 
 Now I have this day referred a clergyman to you, who wrote 
 to me for solution of doubts on this point. 
 
 Forgive me, for you have bid me graze, and I hope the dews 
 from heaven may fall upon my rest. — Yours very affectionately, 
 
 H. E. M.
 
 XXIV UNSETTLEMENT IN FAITH 507 
 
 But in the following year, 1848, the correspondence was 
 renewed on a far larger scale and dealt with topics of vital 
 importance, going down to the very roots of things in regard 
 to both faith and conduct. 
 
 Manning's Letters to Egbert Wilberforce in 1848-49 
 
 The great doubts which in 1845 had possessed Manning's 
 mind as to the tenable position of the English Church, had 
 in 1848 developed into a settled conviction, as his letters 
 show, that he could no longer attack the teaching of Eome ; 
 no longer defend the essential errors he had discovered in 
 Anglicanism, and was still day by day discovering. His 
 long illness and the opportunity which it had afforded him 
 for meditation and reflection had weaned his heart from 
 ecclesiastical ambitions ; had purified in no small measure 
 his spiritual vision. If the city of the Popes and its 
 associations, historical and spiritual, had no influence over 
 his heart, his mind at least must have been affected, perhaps 
 unconsciously, by fervent participation in Catholic worship, 
 in frequent and friendly intercourse with priests and monks. 
 In letters from Eome to relatives and friends, and even to 
 Eobert Wilberforce, it is curious to note that Manning went 
 so far as to disclaim not only the influence of the locality, 
 but intercourse even with those whom he called " San 
 Pietrini." 
 
 In the following letter. Manning expressed anew his fear 
 lest his judgment should be biassed by such worldly attrac- 
 tions as expectations of a bishopric ; and it was because he 
 knew Eobert Wilberforce was free from such a weakness 
 that he confided in, and leant on, him. 
 
 Under the Seal. 
 
 Rome, 2n^ Sunday after Christmas. 
 
 My dear Egbert — ... I look much to you and lean 
 much upon you. For I know no one wdth whom I more 
 sympathise. And I know you to be a candid and laborious 
 student; what is more, I believe that the expectations of 
 a bishopric, vnih the hope of wide usefulness, would not 
 warp your convictions. You have too much mastered your
 
 508 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 own will to be drawn aside even by the strong attractions 
 which are around you. It has been my prayer that such 
 may be my case lest I should have eyes and see not. Do 
 you remember asking me at the time of the Sub-almoner affair 
 whether I refused it from unwillingness to involve myself further 
 in our system ? I said, No, because that was not my fear. I did 
 fear, and put it down at the time, lest the sphere of attraction 
 should bias me in weighing the great doubts which had then fully 
 opened themselves to me. Now this is what I believe you to be 
 free from, I confide in you because it is so, and lean on you. I 
 have as far as possible done as you wished me, and set my mind 
 free by reading German and Italian, and by living in the open 
 air. But I cannot say that anything has made much difference. 
 Things seem to me clearer, plainer, shapeKer, and more har- 
 monious ; things which were only in the head have got down 
 into the heart ; hiatuses and gaps have bridged themselves over 
 by obvious second thoughts, and I feel a sort of processus 
 and expansion going on which consolidates all old convictions, 
 and keeps throwing out the premisses of new ones. Still I can 
 say I have never felt the fear of safety or pressure of conscience 
 which alone justifies a change. I have endless matter I should 
 like to have your thoughts upon. 
 
 May all grace be with you this New Year, my dearest 
 brother. — Ever your unworthy servant and friend, 
 
 H. E. M. 
 
 P.S. — As I have been writing it has grown so dark that I 
 fear you cannot read it. 
 
 Under the Seal. 
 
 Rome, 12th February 1848. 
 
 My dear Egbert — I did not mean to write to you again 
 so soon, for I intended to wait till after Dr. Hampden's conse- 
 cration should be completed. But the case is sufficiently 
 accomplished to leave no doubt of the end, and I therefore wish 
 to ask your help. 
 
 I feel my position altered by this event, and unless the 
 reasons which I will give can be shown to be without force, I 
 am afraid of thinking of the future. 
 
 1 . I am convinced (by my own reading of them) that Hamp- 
 den's Bampton Lectures are heretical in matter. 
 
 2. And still more, that they are heretical in form. His 
 system is the science of heresy. 
 
 3. The Church of England was hardly saved from partaking 
 in his heterodoxy by the censure of the University in 1836 and 
 1842, he being left in full communion.
 
 XXIV UNSETTLEMENT IN FAITH 509 
 
 4. The Episcopate is fully made partaker in his heterodoxy 
 by his consecration, and the whole Church, priesthood, and 
 laity in communion Avith the Episcopate. 
 
 5. This case differs from Hoadley, etc., in this vital point : 
 Hampden is confirmed and consecrated, being under positive 
 suspension and censure, and his soundness is the cardinal point 
 in the contest. By consecration the Episcopate gives sentence 
 in his favoiu", and invests him with the special custody and dis- 
 pensation of doctrine. 
 
 6. But supposing the case of Hampden to be no worse than 
 the case of Hoadley, it only proves that the Church of England 
 has abdicated its office as a keeper of Catholic tradition a century 
 sooner than I hoped, and that we have borne with evils till we 
 are blind to their moral character and its consequences. 
 
 7. The great tradition of the world and of the Church is the 
 GfoAoyia, the knowledge of God ; and Hampden's system under- 
 mines this, both in its matter and form, in its substance and 
 proof. This seems to me to be the capital offence of any branch 
 of the Church, and fatal to its divine character. 
 
 8. The separation of the English episcopate from the whole 
 episcopate under heaven, the denial of Catholic doctrine in sub- 
 stance by a large body of the English priesthood, e.g. the 
 doctrine of the sacraments, the Christian sacrifice, the visible 
 and divine polity of the Church (articles of the Baptismal Creed) 
 and the rejection of Catholic doctrine in form by the rejection 
 of Catholic tradition as the rule of faith, the historical fact 
 that the Church of England has made common cause with 
 Protestantism as a mass, even in its degeneracy, as in the Jeru- 
 salem Bishopric ; all these have for a long time deprived me of 
 the power of claiming for it the undoubted guidance of the 
 Holy Spirit along the path of Catholic tradition. It is not from 
 the Church Ave receive it, but from our own books and our own 
 private judgment. 
 
 9. This last event exemplifies the same impotence and un- 
 certainty of witness in the highest doctrine of the divine reve- 
 lation. It is in vain to speak of the Church of England as a 
 witness, except as an epitaph. Its living oflBce and character 
 are tampered with ; and its living, speaking testimony is not 
 trustworthy. 
 
 10. I am left without defence. I cannot rest the Church of 
 England and its li\ang -watness on anything higher than an in- 
 tellectual basis. I trust it, because I think it to be right, not 
 because I believe it to be right. It is a subject of my reason, 
 and not an object of my faith. 
 
 11. And this event has brought out a miserable truth.
 
 510 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 namely, that the civil power is the ultimate judge of doctrine 
 in England, a principle which is not more heretical than 
 atheistical. 
 
 1 2. If it be not the ultimate judge, " when, if not now," 
 shall the case arise for denying and resisting the claim 1 
 
 13. Not to deny and resist it, is to consent, or at least to 
 suffer the claim, against which loyalty to our Divine Lord, the 
 salvation of His people, the Christian rights of the Church's 
 posterity, and our own soul-sake binds us to spend every day, 
 and every power of our life. My dear Kobert, you \n\l not 
 misunderstand me, as if I thought myself to be anything. 
 God knows, what I am humbles and alarms me. And it is 
 under this condition that I add, that I do not know how I can 
 serve a body I cannot defend. I seem reduced to a choice 
 between my faith and all its foundations on one side, and all 
 that life has, which is dear to me, on the other. The grounds 
 on which I have striven, and under God not without hope, to 
 keep others in the Church of England, are falsified. And I dai'e 
 not seek or retain any influence but that of Truth, and the 
 influence over individuals which only Truth has given hence- 
 forward has no foundation. It must be either given up or kept 
 by unfairness in spite of Truth, which is impossible. 
 
 Dear Robert, do not think I am under any effect of ill-health, 
 or sensitiveness, or locality, or momentary provocation, or the like. 
 
 What I have written has been steadily advancing in my mind 
 these ten years, and outward events do but verify old fears, and 
 project old convictions upon realities. 
 
 I will, as I promised you, be guided by you, and lean my whole 
 weight upon you, and I know you will not offer me shadows for 
 truths. — Ever yours affectionately, H. E. Manning. 
 
 This letter was written under the seal of confession, and 
 is, therefore, the most trustworthy evidence of Manning's 
 religious opinions at the time. The condemnation which it 
 expresses of Hampden as guilty of heresy could not have 
 been clearer, or more emphatic or more complete, and offers 
 a strange contrast to the way in which, on his return to 
 England, he dealt in his Charge, July 1848, as Archdeacon 
 of Chichester, with the Hampden case. 
 
 Rome, I5th February 1848. 
 
 My dear Robert — I got your letter to-day with great joy, 
 for I have had few lately, hardly any of special interest. In 
 hopes of drawing another, I begin at once to put you into debt.
 
 XXIV UNSETTLEMENT IN FAITH 511 
 
 Before I go to anything else, I should like to make a few 
 notes on your letters. 
 
 Of course I have been grieved beyond measure about our 
 brother's share in the Hampden matter. But, with you, I be- 
 lieve he did what he honestly thought was right ; and I know 
 that the special points of difierence between him and myself are 
 just those on which this case turned. He, therefore, was con- 
 sistent to his own views ; but this even grieves me more, for I 
 feel as if we had drifted asunder in a wreck. 
 
 How far, as a matter of history, Newman's leaving us is the 
 cause of this I do not know, but even if he had foreseen it, 
 ■with his convictions he could not have stayed. I say this, 
 because your words had a sound of reproach, which probably 
 you did not mean. I am not aware of any sensation I have 
 made. Happily, over the Alps one has peace. What have I 
 said 1 As to Confession, I have nowhere said it is necessary. 
 I have only said that it is our way of safety, lest we deceive 
 ourselves as to our repentance and forgiveness. I hope I have 
 said nothing untrue, and then I feel no care. A spade is a spade 
 — et rudes sunt Macedones. 
 
 As to Saint Ignatius, if you will write to me any tangible 
 points, I will get Perrone or Passaglia, or both, to look at them. 
 It is too absurd to have that Royal and Right Reverend Bishop 
 of All Babbles, with his King and Priest nonsense, coming to 
 tell us that Saint Ignatius was a Presbyterian.^ 
 
 I am very glad to hear that you are at your Work, and I 
 should much like to hear you read it. You are on the one subject 
 to which I feel all my thoughts are drawn, and it is that subject 
 which has brov;ght me to my present belief, the Guidance of the 
 Holy Spirit. But it is this, above all, which demands for its sup- 
 port a basis higher than intellect, individual or provincial. God 
 knows, my dear Robert, that every bond and tie of friendship and 
 love, and a kindred higher than blood, to say nothing of every 
 lower affection, which makes up home to me, bribe me into a state 
 next to blindness, in the great issue between England and Rome. 
 
 ^ Later in life, Cardinal Manning apparently borrowed a leaf from the 
 book of the ' ' Bishop of All Babbles " ; for, in one of his autobiographical 
 Notes, he said : — There is only a plank between the Jesuits and Presby- 
 terianism. . . . They are papal by their vow, but in their spirit they are 
 less papal than anti-episcopal. The claim of special dependence on the Pope 
 breeds everywhere a spirit of independence of local authority. This is a 
 grave danger to them, and few of them escape it. Their anti-episcopal 
 spirit shows itself in their treatment of their own men when they become 
 bishops. . . . They are like the Low Church Evangelicals in the Anglican 
 Church, who look upon their bishops as "enemies of vital godliness."
 
 512 CARDINAL MANNING chap 
 
 But there are truths so primary and despotic that I cannot elude 
 them. Such is the infalliljility of the mystical body of Christ 
 on earth through the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. I covdd as 
 soon disbelieve the canon of Scripture or the perpetuity of the 
 Church. Infallibility is not an accident, it is a property, as in- 
 separable by the Divine Will as perpetuity. This is evident to 
 me from holy Scripture, from Catholic tradition, from internal 
 and necessary relations of divine Truth and divine acts, as well 
 as from Reason which alone would prove nothing. 
 
 I cling to the Church of England, because, trusting that it is 
 a portion of the visible Church, it partakes of this undoubted 
 divine property. 
 
 If it does not partake of this property it affords no founda- 
 tion for my faith. It is useless to offer me antiquity for my 
 foundation. What do I know of antiquity ? At my next 
 birthday, if I live, I shall be forty. I must rest on something 
 which itself rests continuously on antiquity, whose consciousness 
 is therefore continuous, running down from the Day of Pente- 
 cost to this hour. 
 
 I cannot hide from myself that the state of England alarms 
 me in this point. It cannot be denied that we have two con- 
 tradictory theologies. Our episcopate is divided even in articles 
 of the Apostles' Creed, e.g. the Church and the Sacraments. I 
 am afraid that Hampden, if consecrated, will force us to confess 
 more. Our priesthood is, if possible, more divided than the 
 episcopate ; and o\Jx laity are driven different ways, till the 
 whole belief of a Church, teaching in God's name and with a 
 pledge of divine guidance, is wasted away. 
 
 Surely it is not enough to say that our formularies are 
 sound. Suppose it ; but Avhat are doctrines on paper, when 
 the living speaking Church contradicts, or permits contradic- 
 tion, of its own definitions ? If the articles had to be judged 
 at the last day instead of our souls, their orthodoxy might 
 cover our unbelief. How long is this to go on ? I am ready 
 to say — I do not say that the Church of England teaches 
 the doctrine of the Real Presence, but I must say that either 
 those that deny it or I ought not to be priests of the same 
 Church. 
 
 With these things which uninvited dwell in my mind as 
 axioms or innate ideas, I confess I feel no acquiescence in our 
 state. But I feel in God's hands. Till I can see whether it 
 be His will to bring me back in health and to work again I 
 need not forestall. One thing, however, is plain, that the 
 Church of England before this Hampden affair and after it is 
 not in the same state, nor Avill allow the same way of speaking
 
 XXIV UNSETTLEMENT IN FAITH 513 
 
 and acting ; and yet I do not know how the only possible turn 
 can be taken Avithout breaking all terms with old traditions and 
 beginning a new decade of conflict ; and when I think of this, 
 and the end towards which our divergent line inevitably points, 
 I am aware of something which says, a false position can never 
 be really mended. You say I give you too much credit ; I oidy 
 believe you to be what I daily pray to become. God knows 
 that I would rather stand in the lowest place within the Truth, 
 than in the highest without it. Nay, outside the Truth the 
 higher the worse. It is only so much more opposition to Truth, 
 so much more propagation of falsehood. Farewell, let us pray 
 more for each other. Indeed I feel what you write, that there 
 is little in this world worth being eager about. And yet I am 
 never otherwise than cheerful, as you bid me be. 
 
 If I could but know one great truth, all would be clear. — 
 Yours most affectionately, H. E. M. 
 
 In a second letter, dated Eome, 11th March 1848, 
 again on the Hampden case, Manning brushed aside with 
 a firm hand the fine distinctions, refinements, and theories 
 in which men were entangling themselves, and wisely in- 
 sisted on an open avowal of principle. 
 
 Rome, Wth March 1848. 
 
 My dear Robert — Many thanks for your letter. I feel 
 first that I am not on the spot, and next that I am afraid of 
 myself, and therefore I will, at least till I can see with my own 
 eyes, take you and Moberly, as you name him, for my godfathers. 
 But truly Avhat you say does not come home to me. 
 
 1. It is no question whether any Anglican court would pro- 
 nounce Hampden heretical, but whether he is so. I think you 
 are probably right about the courts ; so much the worse. 
 
 2. My recollection of this matter, refreshed by the extracts 
 lately republished, satisfies me that both East and West, in all 
 ages, would pronounce him heretical. 
 
 3. He has recanted nothing. He declares that he held no 
 communication with the Bishop of Oxford, and authorised none. 
 If he has deceived the Bishop, so much the better for our 
 brother ; so much the worse for Hampden and for us. 
 
 4. The University did not pronounce him heretical, but it de- 
 clared its want of confidence — a thing almost unexampled in 
 our tame annals ; and this at least fixes the ;pnma facie case of 
 unsoundness. 
 
 5. I find it hard to believe that the court required the bishop 
 VOL. I 2 L
 
 614 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 to p'onounce Hampden heretical, as a condition to inquiring 
 whether or no he is heretical. 
 
 This is contrary to the whole practice of the Discipline Act. 
 All that the bishop certifies is the sufficiency of the prima facie 
 case to make inquiry necessary. But I had no intention of 
 objecting in detail, and least of all of entering upon the ques- 
 tion of our dear brother ; I had rather keep to the broader 
 questions which are alone decisive, and where, if we differ, we 
 shall have less pain. 
 
 Do you know that I take no encouragement in the sense in- 
 tended from the phrase that much good is resulting by reaction, 
 and making men speak out, and the like. So much the better 
 for them. But the question — and the only one — is, are we, or 
 are we not, on a basis which is tenable in the sight of God, and 
 by the laws of His Church 1 I told you in my last letter that 
 we are in a position I cannot defend, and that is a new fact to 
 me. I do believe Hampden to be heretical, in substance and 
 principle. It makes it worse to me to find that fact palliated 
 or doubted. Can anybody doubt what judgment would be 
 foi'med of him and his book here or at Munich, or what would 
 have been said of it by St. Augustine or St. Athanasius 1 And I 
 cannot go by any other rule. But besides this, the Court of 
 Queen's Bench, plus Hampden's consecration, declares the civil 
 power to be ultimate and supreme, even in spiritual obligations. 
 This overthrows the only defence I have ever been able to make 
 of our position. If it be true, I am myself one of the foremost 
 in believing it to be fatal to our claim as a member of the 
 visible Church. I cannot evade this, and I cannot obey it. If 
 it be finally confirmed, I am at an end ; with this comfort, that 
 it is no act of mine, and that I have been a mere bystander like 
 Pius IX. 
 
 Again, as you say, it "vvill be a comfort to you to get your 
 mind and belief fully expressed. But I feel it almost a point 
 of truthfulness to say I cannot go on with any reserve. Truth 
 is a trust to be laid out and accounted for, and time is spending 
 fast. Moreover, people believe us to be what we are not, and 
 are disbelieving truths we hold to be sacred, because we hold 
 them in silence, which is a kind of unrighteousness. "What I 
 feel is, that a broad, open avowal of i)rinciple may probably 
 suffice to clear us individually of responsibility, guide others the 
 right way, make our position personally tenable, and begin a 
 correction of the evil. This course would, I think, satisfy me. 
 But I cannot find rest in any fine distinctions, or theories unin- 
 telligible to the paiiperes Christi, for whom we exist. 
 
 I will be very patient and dutiful to you if you wnW go to
 
 XXIV UNSETTLEMENT IN FAITH 515 
 
 work broadly. You would hardly believe what a life of reserve 
 and distance from all san pietrini I live here. Do not for a 
 moment think that I have so much as spoken on this subject 
 ^vith one of them, or on any controversial point. I keep myself 
 wholly aloof, even to separation. But looking at the Church 
 of England ah extra as they do, and Dissenters, I am bound to 
 say that our refinements have a look of insincerity. 
 
 If I vent all this on you, it is because I hold so much by 
 you. And the world is in a whirl which will leave nothing 
 standing but the Kingdom which cannot be removed. This is 
 my only choice and longing. — Ever yours, H. E. M. 
 
 The foUowing outspoken letter or confession of faith, 
 written after the Archdeacon's apology for Hampden in 
 his Charge delivered in July 1848, no longer complains of 
 doubts or misgivings, but contams a distmct and absolute 
 repudiation, not only of Protestantism, but of Anglicanism. 
 In so many words, Manning declares that he does not 
 believe in the Church of England, and can form no defence 
 for it or its theology and faith. This declaration bears 
 the highest stamp of sincerity, for it is v^ritten under the 
 seal of confession. 
 
 Under Seal. 
 
 Lavington, Holy Innocents, 1849. 
 
 My dear Robert — The very slight and unworthy notice of 
 your book on Baptism in the Guardian was mine. I wrote what 
 I could rather than lose a week, feeling that I need only call 
 attention, and that the book would speak for itself. It is very 
 ably done, and is full of your patient and careful research. As 
 a treatise on Baptism we have nothing better. I am only sorry 
 that it is so mixed up with Goode, who will be forgotten in six 
 months, except as you have put him in amber. 
 
 And now let me talk a while Avith you at this Christmas time, 
 in which all good be with you and yours. 
 
 I have tried to hold my peace, to lose myself in work, to take 
 in other subjects which I dearly love and delight in, but all in 
 vain. My whole reason seems filled with one outline. The 
 faith of the Holy Trinity and of the Incarnation subdues me into 
 a belief of the indivisible unity and perpetual infallibility of the 
 Body of Christ. Protestantism is not so much a rival system, 
 which I reject, but no system, a chaos, a wreck of fragments, 
 without idea, principle, or life. It is to me flesh, blood, unbelief,
 
 516 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 and the will of man. Anglicanism seems to me to be in essence 
 the same, only elevated, constructed, and adorned by intellect, 
 social and political order, and the fascinations of a national and 
 domestic history. As a theology, still more as the Church or 
 the faith, it has so faded out of my mind that I cannot say I 
 reject it, but I know it no more. I simply do not believe it. 
 I can form no basis, outline, or defence for it. Oiu' articles and 
 formularies, so far as they contain the Catholic tradition, I 
 understand. But beyond that I feel to have no certainty, some- 
 times no perception of their meaning. I do not rest upon them ; 
 they are no rule to me ; I do not know whether I contradict 
 or strain them. My onl}'' foundation of faith is the infallibility 
 of Christ in His Church, and they are not utterances of that 
 voice. 
 
 I confess that I feel all this growing to an almost intolerable 
 weight. And events are not so much changing as revealing the 
 position and nature of the English Church. The Hampden con- 
 firmation and the Gorham Appeal show me that the Church of 
 England, supposing it to continue in esse a member of the vnsible 
 Church, is in a position in which it is not safe to stay". But I 
 have always felt that even these would not move me if I could 
 by any means sincerely, and in the sight of God, justify the 
 relation of the Church of England to the Presence of our Lord 
 ruling and teaching upon earth. I am forced to believe that 
 the unity of His Person prescribes the unity of His visible 
 kingdom as one undivided whole, and that numbers are an 
 accident. It was once contained in an Upper Chamber ; it may 
 be again ; but it must always be one, and indivisible. 
 
 On this hangs the guidance of the Spirit of Truth. If in this 
 you can help me by showing me my errors, I shall be guided 
 with a docile and thankful heart. Both your books drive me to 
 the same point. In truth everything as it ceases to be vague, 
 unreal, and negative, as it becomes positive, real, and in- 
 telligible, rises up with the faith and infallibility of the 
 Church, which is the Body of Christ and the Temple of the 
 Holy Ghost. 
 
 It is in vain for you or for me to say that the English Church 
 holds or teaches as you and I believe. It ])ears ^vith us because 
 we are silent, or because it is not its practice to guard its own 
 oral doctrine. Does it teach what I have said of the Sacrifice ? 
 or wnll it censure me for so teaching? 
 
 These are not cheerful Christmas thoughts, but in the midst 
 of all I find great peace, living in a sphere of faith, and amidst 
 the thoughts and images of which our system gives no ex- 
 pression.
 
 XXIV UNSETTLEMENT IN FAITH 517 
 
 No doubt your meditations on this mystery of this season 
 are wonderfully helped and deepened by your labours upon it. 
 
 Let mo hear from you ; and believe me, my dear Kobert, 
 yours always ajafectionately in our Lord, H. E. M. 
 
 Manning's Letteks to Eobert Wilberfoece before the 
 GoRHAM Judgment. 
 
 18th January-24th February 1850. 
 
 Manning's letters before the Gorham Judgment was pro- 
 nounced, 8th of March 1850, are interesting and valuable, 
 as showing that his essential objection, unlike that of Pusey 
 and Keble, and to a certain extent of Eobert Wilberforce, 
 was to the Court itself, whether its decision were adverse 
 or no to Gorham. Even had the civil court pronounced in 
 favour of baptism, Manning's objection would have been 
 just as great ; for, to accept the Judgment would be to 
 recognise the civil power as ultimate authority in deciding 
 on matters of faith. The letters likewise show how far 
 Manning was prepared to act, either with others or 
 even alone, in the event of the Bishops, as rulers of the 
 Church, accepting or silently acquiescing in the Gorham 
 Judgment. 
 
 It would not conduce to clearness or effect to recite 
 Manning's letters to Wilberforce after the Gorham Judgment, 
 until his public action and efforts, combined with others, to 
 avert the evil effects of that Judgment, have been first 
 recorded. After the event, his letters to Robert Wilberforce 
 will clear up much in the Archdeacon of Chichester's public 
 conduct or speech, or still more, perhaps, in his silence, that 
 seemed contradictory or ambiguous ; or even led men to 
 suspect that he was looking about for a loophole for escape. 
 These invaluable letters tell what was not told at the time 
 or since, and reveal the inner workings of his mind. 
 
 The following letter bears witness that the Gorham 
 Appeal was becoming to Manning a matter of conscience, 
 and that he was prepared — rather than, under certain con- 
 ditions, to accept the Oath of Supremacy — to seek release 
 from the Church of England.
 
 518 CARDINAL MANNING CHAP. 
 
 Under Seal. 
 44 Cadogan Place, \'2,th January 1850. 
 
 My dear Robert — I am here for three -weeks, and much 
 wish you could come. Many desire to see you and have the 
 help of your counsel. The more I go into this Appeal, the less 
 I can reconcile it with the divine confession of the Church. 
 This moves me. It turns a point of faith into a point of con- 
 science and of action, and brings out long and secret thoughts in 
 a critical and urgent way. But I do not mean to go into this 
 now, further than to say that the course I feel constrained to 
 take is this : — 
 
 To submit to certain lawyers, civil and common, the follow- 
 ing questions in substance : 
 
 1. Does the royal supremacy carry a claim to re\aew by 
 Appeal the declarations and interpretations of the courts of the 
 Church in matter of doctrine ? 
 
 2. Does the Oath of Supremacy bind those who take it to 
 recognise and accept the supremacy so claimed and exercised 1 
 
 If these are answered in the affirmative b}^ a sufficient number 
 of competent advisers, I should next submit them to my bishop, 
 stating my inability to receive the oath in that sense, and ask- 
 ing for a trial as to my fitness to hold my office. 
 
 If the Court of Arches should decide that the oath binds in 
 the above sense, I should feel that the Church of England had 
 given me my release — rvde donatus. 
 
 May God give us light and a faithful heart to do His vnll 
 alone. — Believe me, my dearest Robert, yours very aftection- 
 ately, H. E. Manning. 
 
 In this letter, which is mainly on the same subject as 
 the last, Manning's prayerful spirit is once more exhibited, 
 and his desire not to shrink from doing right : 
 
 Private. 
 
 44 Cadogan Place, I8th January 1850. 
 
 My dear Robert — We have had two long conversations at 
 Dodsworth's. All seemed to feel that the tribunal itself is the 
 evil. Not one, I believe, felt that it is possible to accept a 
 right decision without protest. This, beyond words to express, 
 is my conviction. Even if it decide rightly it is not using or 
 going by the decision of the Church. It is an independent and 
 absolute judgment of the Crown in matter of faith. 
 
 The decision of the Church Court is as clay in its hands. 
 The form, if it be wrong or right, is an accident. Now this
 
 XXIV UNSETTLEMENT IN FAITH 519 
 
 gives to the civil power the ultimate interpretations of formularies. 
 The Crown does not define legislatively, of course ; but it 
 interprets the definitions of the Church, and a supreme inter- 
 preter is equivalent to a legislator. 
 
 What did the Council of Nice but interpret the Apostles' 
 Creed in the Sonship 1 
 
 If the Judicial Committee decide either way, that decision 
 binds in \v<,'w proprio vigore. 
 
 It cannot be reversed, for it cannot be reviewed except by 
 the Crown again. 
 
 I feel this to touch my faith as a Christian, and my conscience 
 as a priest, and I see no course but this — 
 
 To declare that I cannot so accept the supremacy, and to put 
 myself into the hands of my bishop. I beseech you, dear 
 Eobert, do not yield to the thought that if the decision is right, 
 there is no wrong. He is wronged Who never gave to Princes 
 to judge of His truth. 
 
 I could hardly expect you to take such a journey. Pusey 
 and Keble were there, but not Mill. 
 
 I am giving my sense, not theirs, except in the two first 
 sentences of this letter. 
 
 Pray for me, that I may do nothing wrong, and shrink from 
 doing nothing right, especially at your altar. — Ever, my dear 
 Eobert, your very affectionate, H. E. M. 
 
 Eobert Wilberforce was evidently alarmed lest Manning 
 should break avs^ay from control or guidance, and quit a 
 Church in whose position he had lost faith. 
 
 44 Cadogan Place, 22nd January 1850. 
 
 My dear Egbert — I write one word to set you at ease. 
 
 1. I will take no rash step — none that can part me from you, 
 so long as I am able in conscience to be united as in love, so in 
 labours, with you. 
 
 2. My opinion in this is not my mere view. I say (in 
 private) that I have fully gone over it with Alderson and 
 Badeley (and others not less), and they both confirm it in law 
 and in fact. 
 
 3. As to whither to go, dear Eobert, I dare not look on. I 
 argue and act now as if I were to die where I am, and only the 
 revealed necessity hereafter will make me act otherwise. 
 
 Therefore I have not answered two or three things in your 
 late letters. 
 
 I seem to see no such contradiction with history, and shall
 
 520 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 be glad, if need be, to say why ; but for the present, sufficient 
 unto the day. 
 
 My letter was, I fear, jagged or tormenting in some way. 
 Pray forgive me the clavos trabides et cuneos. — Ever your most 
 aflfectionate H. E. M. 
 
 44 Cadogan Place, I8th February 1850. 
 
 My dear Robert — Your kind note this morning was very 
 acceptable. I was afraid that I had been too urgent with you, 
 as I am wont to be when I am moved as I have been and am. 
 
 I feel to have no misgiving or doubt as to the great laws and 
 truths at stake in this crisis. But I will not go into it now, as 
 the time is not come. I will only say that I agree altogether 
 with you in holding that the civil power has a right to inquire 
 why a certain status, i.e. benefice, is refused to Gorham. 
 
 But that is not the Gorham case. 
 
 Such an inquiry lies in the courts at "Westminster by action 
 of quare impedit, as is now pending in re Gorham. The question, 
 which has ascended from the bishop to the archbishop, from 
 the archbishop to the Crown, is purely spiritual, i.e. why the 
 bishop refuses to give to a clerk mission to a cure of souls. 
 
 As a question of benefice it could not go to bishop, arch- 
 bishop, or Crown. 
 
 The appellate jurisdiction of the Crown is assumed to be in 
 eddem materia with that of the spiritual courts. 
 
 1. Co-extensive with all their jurisdiction, and 
 
 2. Superior. 
 
 I do not burden you with references, but I say this on the 
 authority of lawyers, among whom are Alderson and Badeley. 
 They have both read the enclosed paper, and confirm the legal 
 points. 
 
 [I have mislaid or lent it.] 
 
 I long to see you, and trust that you will let me know when 
 you come to London. 
 
 May we neither do anything we ought not to do, nor leave 
 anything we ought to do undone. — Ever your most affectionate 
 
 H. E. M. 
 
 Lavington, 26t/i February 1850. 
 
 My DEAR Robert — I hope to be in London on Monday 
 next, and look forward with great delight to seeing you. 
 
 By that time we shall probably have some decision from the 
 Judicial Committee. 
 
 All the rumours agree in one point, the institution of the 
 appellant. But how can a priest, twice judged unfit for cure of
 
 XXIV UNSETTLEMENT IN FAITH 521 
 
 souls by the Church, be put in charge of souls at the sentence 
 of the civil power mthout overthrowing the divine office of the 
 Church ? The Epistle for St. Matthias seemed sent as a warning. 
 
 I am very glad to hear that you have added a note to your 
 book. Not that it is easy or possible to do much in the way of 
 revision. 
 
 What I should like to see from you would be another book 
 on the Sacrament of the Altar, related, as the Book on Baptism, 
 to your larger work. But before you do it I wish you would 
 analyse the language of St. Thomas, Vasquez, and Suarez. I 
 will show you (trusting that we shall meet next week) some 
 remarkable passages, which I think will satisfy you, as they do 
 me. — Ever, my dear R., yours very affectionately, 
 
 H. E. Manning. 
 
 With this letter, Manning's correspondence with Eobert 
 Wilberforce was suspended, for they both met in London to 
 consult with Pusey and Keble, James Hope and Mr. Glad- 
 stone, and others, and concert measures to relieve the Church 
 of England from complicity with the Gorham Judgment, 
 favourable or adverse. In these proceedings Manning took 
 a prominent part.
 
 CHAPTEE XXV 
 
 THE GORHAM JUDGMENT 
 1850 
 
 In the year 1850 there were two parties in the Church of 
 England, who held antagonistic opinions in matters of faith ; 
 professed antagonistic principles in regard to civil and 
 spiritual authority in the government of the Church. The 
 one party, calling itself Protestant, disbelieved in sacramental 
 grace and repudiated altogether the sacramental system ; 
 and in the matter of Church government, it recognised as 
 supreme in things spiritual, not the Church, but the State ; 
 not the spiritual, but the civil authority. 
 
 The other party, calling itself Catholic, believed in the 
 sfjiritual efficacy and divine origin of the sacraments ; and 
 denied to the civil power authority over matters of faith 
 which they held by divine right and appointment to fall 
 under the supreme authority of the spiritual power. 
 
 The clergy belonging to either party had alike subscribed 
 to the Thirty-nine Articles and had taken the Oath of 
 Supremacy. It speaks well for the elasticity of the formu- 
 laries and the comprehensiveness of the Church of England 
 that disputes, such as that decided in the Gorham case, are 
 of such rare occurrence in the courts of law. 
 
 It is a singular illustration of this spirit of comprehen- 
 siveness that two clergymen of such antagonistic principles 
 on matters of faith — types of thousands — as Eev. G. C. 
 Gorham and Archdeacon Manning had been in 1850, the 
 one thirty-nine, the other seventeen years, ministers in the 
 same Church.
 
 CHAP. XXV THE GORHAM JUDGMENT 52L 
 
 The odious name of Gorham would have been buried in 
 obscurity had it not been made the symbol of the triumph 
 of one party over the other ; had it not been for the effect 
 produced on Manning and so many others by Gorham's 
 appeal from the judgment of the spiritual courts to the civil 
 power to decide whether or no an article of the creed was 
 to be held as of faith in the Church of England. The Eev. 
 George C. Gorham took orders in 1811. It apparently was 
 a matter of little or no concern in that lax day whether a 
 candidate for orders accepted or neglected an article of the 
 Creed ; for in spite of his heterodox views on Baptismal 
 Eegeneration the Bishop of Ely ordained him. But in 1847 
 when the Lord Chancellor presented the Eev. George C. 
 Gorham to the living of Brampford Speke, near Exeter, Henry 
 Phillpotts, the famous fighting Bishop of Exeter, in the ex- 
 ercise of his undoubted right, refused to institute him unless 
 by examination he was able to satisfy the bishop of his ortho- 
 doxy. The examination was thorough and searching, and 
 lasted more than a week altogether — four days in December 
 1847, and three days in March 1848 ; and the delinquent 
 was found to deny the doctrine of BajDtismal Eegeneration. 
 Of course the Bishop of Exeter refused to intrust him with 
 the cure of souls. Mr. Gorham took the case into the 
 Court of Arches ; and Sir Henry Jenner Fust in August 
 1849 decided against his claim to compel the bishop to 
 institute him to the living of Brampford Speke. Mr. Gorham 
 appealed from the decision of the spiritual court to the 
 Judicial Committee of the Privy Council. This court, 
 deriving its authority from the Eoyal Supremacy, was 
 essentially a lay court. On the occasion of Gorham's 
 Appeal it had for assessors the Archbishop of Canterbury 
 (Sumner), the Archbishop of York (Musgrave), and the 
 Bishop of London (Blomfield). 
 
 Eor two years or more the Gorham case had been 
 agitating the minds of men. The Low Church party had 
 declared that if the doctrine of Baptismal Eegeneration was 
 imposed upon them by the highest court in the land they 
 would quit the Church of England in a body and fraternise 
 with Dissenters.
 
 524 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 Brave words ! yet at all events they bore witness to the 
 excited state of feeling which prevailed in the Church on 
 one side and the other ; for the High Church party uttered 
 equally brave words against the judgment of the Privy Council, 
 the ultimate issue of which in too many instances were vain and 
 idle protests whistled down the wind; vox etpreterea nihil, like 
 the loud-voiced protests of Archdeacon Denison and others. 
 
 The Gorham Judgment, pronounced by tlie highest court 
 in the land, inilicted on the High Church party and the 
 Church to which they belonged a twofold blow. 
 
 It struck out an article of the creed ; and asserted afresh, 
 as an inherent right, the Eoyal Supremacy in matters of faith. 
 To Manning the blow seemed fatal, for, on the one hand, he 
 had always believed in Baptismal Eegeneration ; and on the 
 other, had contended for years that the exercise of the Eoyal 
 Supremacy in the Church of England was an accident ; 
 a temporary encroachment of the civil power on the right- 
 ful domain of things spiritual. 
 
 In the beginning of this eventful year Manning's theory 
 that the Eoyal Supremacy was a mere accident, a temporary 
 usurpation, was challenged by James Hope, who maintained 
 in a confidential letter " That nothing in principle new 
 had befallen us in the case of Hampden, or, as yet, of 
 Gorham." Then, he added : " But if you have not hitherto 
 read Erastianism in tlie history of the Church of England 
 since the Eeformation, then I fear you and I have much to 
 discuss before we can meet on common ground." 
 
 Manning and James Hope did discuss long and fully the 
 whole question of the Eoyal Supremacy ; and Hope ended 
 by convincing Manning that the Gorham Appeal did not 
 differ in principle from all previous appeals ; for that, since 
 the Eeformation, the ultimate jurisdiction over all ecclesi- 
 astical causes had rested in the Crown. 
 
 James Hope's letter, which so completely changed 
 Manning's view of the Eoyal Supremacy, is as follows : — 
 
 ABnoTSFORD, 2dth January 1850. 
 
 My dear Manning — I will not trouble you with my excuses 
 for the delay attending my answer to yours of the 31st December
 
 XXV THE GORHAM JUDGMENT 525 
 
 and its enclosure. The latter I now return, but to comment 
 upon it is not easy, because a considerable part of it relates to the 
 sense in which you individually have submitted to the Church of 
 England, and as this varies from the ground upon which my own 
 submission rests, we do not start from the same point. It may 
 be, then, I should put you in possession of my general view upon 
 this head, and you will then be able to follow me in its 
 application to the particular cases of Hampden and Gorham. 
 
 I cannot, then, speak dogmatically of the Church of England 
 as you do in Nos. 2 and 3 of your paper, I know no theory 
 which in strict argument will justify her present position and 
 the attitude she has so long maintained towards the rest of the 
 Church. The hardship of circumstances, in some sense, the 
 necessity of the case, appear to me to afford the only plea upon 
 which her isolation and the independence of action which (as far 
 as the rest of the Church is concerned) she has assumed, can be 
 defended. 
 
 Again as regards the civil power and her subjection to it, I 
 find no other defence. The civil power has since the Reforma- 
 tion undoubtedly usurped part of her proper spiritual authority. 
 Her best divines have, many of them, accepted and justified its 
 interference, and the actual framework of her constitution per- 
 petuates the encroachment. 
 
 On what, then, you will ask does my submission rest ? I 
 answer, on the belief, weakened but not yet destroyed, that under 
 these heavy burdens, in her solitude and in her bonds, she yet 
 retains the grace of the sacraments and the power of the keys. 
 But if you should ask further, how I am assured of this, I should 
 hardly know what to tell you ; and when others have consulted 
 me as to remaining or going, my answer has been, that I dared not 
 advise. How indeed should I : unless I accept the theory of 
 development as fully as Newman ? There are many things in the 
 Church of Rome which offer difficulty — unless I turn purely 
 Protestant, it is impossible to justify all that has occurred and 
 does daily occur in England. Many holier and wiser men than 
 I, have deliberated and gone, but many holier and better than I, 
 deliberately remain. It is not, then, with me a matter which 
 reasoning can decide. I have a conviction that I have the 
 means of grace where I am, means far beyond the use I make 
 of them, and till this conviction is removed I dare not venture 
 on a change. 
 
 With these feelings my duty towards the Church of England 
 seems to me this : To watch most jealously that her position be 
 not made worse, and to strive, whenever there is an opportunity, 
 to improve it ; but to conceal her defects, or to seek by theory to
 
 526 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 escape from the facts of her past and present history (whatever 
 I may have thought formerly), is not a course which I should now 
 pursue. 
 
 And now as to the two cases of Hampden and Gorham. Of 
 these — the first decided judicially that the Crown may force its 
 nominee into the episcopate without any legal mode of ascertain- 
 ing his fitness ; but then practically we know that the Crown has, 
 since the Reformation, exercised this power \vithout resistance 
 from the Church ; we know, also, that no utterly unfit person need 
 be accepted by the Church if, either discipline over the priest- 
 hood in matter of doctrine keep the general body pure, or 
 at the last moment those who have to consecrate refuse that 
 oflfice. 
 
 We know, also, that the general practice of ministers is to 
 consult the Primate beforehand, and that in this case there was 
 no objection. Was this, then, a substantial alteration of the 
 system as it existed before, or was it not merely a formal 
 development of that Erastianism which in substance had long 
 been acquiesced in ] 
 
 Then as to the Gorham Appeal, how does it difier, except in 
 the importance of the subject matter, from all previous appeals 1 
 Since the Reformation the jurisdiction in the last resort over all 
 causes ecclesiastical has been acknowledged in the Crown. The 
 Delegates sat under royal commission, and the Judicial Committee 
 of the Privy Council represent the same authority. There may 
 have been more bishops concerned as judges at one time than 
 at the other, but the source of jurisdiction was in law the same. 
 This appeal then in point of jurisdiction offers nothing new to my 
 eyes. The subject of it may indeed develop more fully the 
 scandal of the system, but the system has long existed and been 
 an offence in the Church. 
 
 On both these points then, I would have a change if I could 
 get it, but neither of them disturbs materially the grounds of my 
 allegiance, because that allegiance has for some time rested upon 
 considerations, in which these difficulties had already played 
 their part, and had allowance made for them. 
 
 But if a false judgment be pronounced in Gorham's case, 
 and that judgment be acquiesced in by the Church of England, 
 then indeed a new feature will arise for which I find no place ; 
 whatever be the mouthpiece which utters the judgment, if the 
 Church does not repudiate it, there is an article of the creed 
 struck out, and then indeed there will be a weight thrown into 
 the scale against my allegiance, which it would seem ought to 
 prevail. 
 
 But I have already spoken too much of my own views, though
 
 XXV THE GORHAM JUDGMENT 527 
 
 you will see, that they lead me, by way of contrast, to re- 
 marking on yom-s. You have a theory of allegiance based upon 
 ecclesiastical principles, while I have not. But when you adopted 
 that theory, had you fully considered the facts ? If you had, it 
 ought still to hold good, for I maintain that nothing, in principle 
 new, has befallen us in the case of Hampden, or, as yet, of 
 Gorham. But if you have not hitherto read Erastianism in the 
 history of the Church of England since the Reformation, then I 
 fear you and I have much to discuss before we can meet upon 
 common ground. I cannot, then, advise upon your questions 
 from your point of view, because the current of my thoughts 
 prevents me from entering into it, but, from my own, I must 
 acknowledge, that the affirmance of the Royal Supremacy by 
 oath, if it be held to mean more than a submission de facto to a 
 state of things endurable under circumstances for a time, would 
 present serious difficulty. 
 
 And now I believe that I have said all that I can in the 
 present stage of our correspondence. I have written hastily, 
 and I fear in places too boldly — but these faults I hope you will 
 pardon. I write for 7jou only, and with a sincere desire that we 
 may understand each other. I trust you will help me to correct 
 my views where you see me to be wrong. Since Newman left 
 us, I have had little intercourse with any one upon the great 
 questions of communion. Nor have they been so much in my 
 mind as they ought to have been. Indeed, except with Glad- 
 stone, or now and then with persons Avho have invited me to speak, 
 I have had no inducement to discuss them. Your letter has 
 opened up the seam of thought again, and I would gladly work 
 with you in it. — Ever, my dear Manning, yours most truly, 
 
 James R. Hope. 
 
 Manning's conversion to the view that, far from being, as 
 he had hitherto contended, a victim to the gradual usurpations 
 of the Civil Power, the English Church had at the Reforma- 
 tion accepted the Royal Supremacy, was so complete, that we 
 find him in a subsequent letter to Robert Wilberforce de- 
 claring that our " position is untenable ah initio ; for the 
 Royal Supremacy is in principle as old as Henry VIII." 
 
 But what is more to the present purpose, Manning found 
 himself, now and henceforth to the end of their Anglican 
 career — which for either was not far off — in a position to 
 act with James Hope on common ground and to pursue like 
 principles to a common end.
 
 528 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 Hence, on the eve of the Gorhani Judgment, ^e find 
 Manning and James Hope standing together, and acting in 
 concert, more or less close, with Mr. Gladstone. Eobert 
 Wilberforce, Dodsworth, and Mill, Eegius Professor of 
 Hebrew at Cambridge, and Pusey, and Keble, and Bennett 
 of St. Paul's, Knightsbridge ; and, among the laity, Sidney 
 Herbert, and Eichard Cavendish, and Badeley, were all 
 assembled in that eventful week in March 1850 to take 
 counsel with Manning, Hope, and Mr. Gladstone, as well 
 as to witness the close of the great ecclesiastical drama, 
 which for well-nigh three years had stirred the religious 
 world to its depths. Strange as it may sound in the ears 
 of our somewhat cynical generation, the religious world in 
 that day consisted not only of bishops and clergy, but 
 included well-knoM^n statesmen and lawyers and men of 
 letters. Not merely religious papers like the Ckiardian and 
 the Record, but newspapers like the Times in 1850 discussed 
 the Gorham case and Tractarianism, Cardinal Wiseman's 
 famous " Letter out of the Plaminian Gate," and " Papal 
 Aggression," with as much fierceness or ferocity as Home 
 Eule and Mr. Gladstone — though with far more truth and 
 justice — are denounced to-day. 
 
 Some five or seven years before his death, Cardinal 
 Manning in speaking of the Gorham Judgment said : — 
 
 " I remember well I was in London when it was given. I 
 went at once to Gladstone, who then lived in Carlton Terrace. 
 He was ill with influenza and in bed ; I sat down by his bedside 
 and told him of the Judgment. Starting up and thro^ving out his 
 arms, he exclaimed : — " The Church of England is gone unless it 
 releases itself by some authoritative act." Wo then agreed to 
 draw up a Declaration and get it signed. For this purpose we 
 met in the vestry of St. Paul's, Knightsbridge. There were 
 present, Bennett, Hope, Eichard Cavendish, Gladstone, and Dr. 
 Mill, I think, and some others. They made me preside. We 
 agreed to a string of propositions, deducing that, by the Gorham 
 Judgment, the Church of England had forfeited its authority as a 
 divine teacher. The next time we met, Pusey and Keble I think 
 were there. They refused this ; and got it changed to " If the 
 Church of England shall accept this Judgment it would forfeit its 
 authority as a divine teacher." This amendment was accepted
 
 XXV THE GORHAM JUDGMENT 529 
 
 because it did not say whether the Chmxh of England had or 
 had not de facto accepted the Judgment. Hope said : " I suppose 
 we are all agi'eed that if the Church of England does not undo 
 this we must join the Church of Rome." This made an outcry ; 
 and I think it was then that Keble said: — "If the Church of 
 England were to fail, it should be found in my parish." 
 
 But such a meeting, good as far as it went, was by 
 no means representative. What would be the value of a 
 Declaration that did not for instance bear the names of Pusey 
 and Keble ? The difficulty of obtaining signatures was 
 greater than had been foreseen in the first instance. Men 
 who were of one mind in objecting to the Gorham Judgment 
 differed as to the mode and method of opposition. To 
 Manning, who was at Brighton, James Hope sent reports of 
 how matters were going on. In a letter, dated 14 Curzon 
 Street, 14th March, 5 o'clock at night, he writes as 
 follows : — 
 
 I will see Gladstone and talk matters over with him, but there 
 are worse hindrances than he is likely to prove. 
 
 Pusey came here with Keble yesterday, and remained some 
 hours criticising our "Resolutions." Hoping to get matters 
 adjusted, I proposed a meeting of all who could be got together 
 at Gladstone's this morning. 
 
 Pusey and Keble attended the meeting at which Hope 
 urged the necessity of immediate action. Mr. Gladstone 
 pleaded for delay ; and preferred in place of the Resolu- 
 tions drawn up at the first meeting by Manning and Hope 
 and Mill an address to the bishops. Pusey and Keble and 
 J. Talbot insisted upon modifications of the Resolutions ; and 
 it was finally agreed, at the suggestion of Hope, that all 
 proposed amendments should be sent to George Denison 
 (now Archdeacon of Taunton), and another meeting called 
 for next week. The two Church Unions sent their reports, 
 which spelt disunion, and the meeting resolved to have 
 nothing to do with them, but to take their own course. But 
 as to that course differences of opinion arose, wliich Hope, in 
 a letter to Manning, who was not present to meet Pusey 
 and Keble's objections to the original Resolutions, described 
 as follows : — 
 
 VOL. I 2 M
 
 530 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 Gladstone still for delay ; but I think all but himself for 
 " Resolutions " to be immediately put forth. There are several, 
 however, who are alarmed at the thoroughgoing tone of those 
 we have adopted, and fear the recoil. Horror of Kome seems to 
 be at the bottom of these minds ; and some spoke even of a 
 generation passing away before the Church be deemed unsafe, 
 which translated seems to mean that, ha^ipen what may, it will 
 do for their time. . . . 
 
 1 hope you will come up. — Yours in haste, most truly, 
 
 James Hope. 
 
 At the final meeting, held at Mr. Gladstone's house, 
 when the Resolutions as modified and amended by Pusey 
 and Keble were adopted, Manning was present. 
 
 But the final act had yet to be accomplished. They 
 who had drawn up or adopted the Declaration had to put 
 their names to it. Manning with eagerness signed first; 
 Robert Wilberforce second. But at the last moment Mr. 
 Gladstone drew back and refused to sign the Declaration. 
 
 lu one of his autobiographical Notes, dated 1885, Cardinal 
 j\Ianning gave the following description of the closing 
 scene : — 
 
 We met for the last time in Gladstone's house. There 
 were thirteen present. We agreed to the declaration : and then 
 came the signing. They called on me to sign first. I did so ; 
 then Robert (Archdeacon) Wilberforce. I cannot certainly 
 remember the others ; but the list is printed. Then they called 
 on Gladstone to sign. He was standing with his back to the 
 fire. He began to demur ; after a while I went to him and 
 pressed him to sign. He said in a low voice to me : — " Do you 
 think that I as a Privy Councillor could sign that Declaration ? " 
 I, knowing the pertinacity of his character, turned and said : — 
 " We will not press him further." 
 
 This was the first divergence between him and Hope and 
 myself.^ 
 
 In reference to the Declaration signed by Archdeacon 
 Manning, Archdeacon R. Wilberforce and Professor Mills, 
 Archdeacon Hamilton, who a few months later resigned his 
 office and benefice, wrote to Manning as follows : — 
 
 ^ It has been said, perhaps somewhat profanely, that at this historic 
 meeting of thirteen for the purpose of making a solemn profession of faith in 
 an article of the Creed, Manning represented Christ, another — Judas.
 
 XXV THE GORHAM JUDGMENT 531 
 
 Close, Sarum, 19;/i Aug. 1850. 
 
 My dear Archdeacon — Pray do not think me very im- 
 pertinent in obtruding upon you my own difficulties. William 
 Heathcote has sent me this morning the Declaration, which bears 
 the three honoured names of Manning, Wilberforce, and Mills — 
 names around which churchmen are now to rally. 
 
 But what is a person to do in my state ? I certainly feel 
 pretty well assured that I never could have understood the 
 Eoyal Supremacy in the sense now ascribed to it by the courts of 
 law, but I cannot recall at all the meaning I did affix to it. I 
 fear it was a very vague, ill-considered act of mine — and I should 
 think that many must be in my predicament. 
 
 Again : the present state of the law seems to me intolerable, 
 but it strikes me that I ought rather to resign the position the 
 law gives me, than declare that I will not acknowledge the law ; 
 and yet is there not another course open 1 and that is, without 
 reference to any past oaths and subscriptions, to declare simply 
 that we will take all lawful means to bring the Royal Supremacy 
 within the limits you have with such admirable clearness and 
 precision described in your letter. 
 
 My conscience is very ill at ease at present, but it would only 
 aggravate its disquiet, if I were to sign the declaration Heathcote 
 has sent me ; and yet I thoroughly go along with all the argu- 
 ments of your Letter, and must have some w^ay of expressing my 
 agreement with it. — I remain, my dear IManning, with great 
 respect, yours affectionately, W. K. Hamilton. 
 
 In au autobiographical Note, dated 1883, Manning wrote 
 of Archdeacon W. K. Hamilton as follows : — 
 
 In the winter of 1850, 1 had left Lavington, and was in Lon- 
 don. There I met Walter Hamilton. We had taken our degrees 
 and our FelloAvships at Merton together. He had also resigned 
 his preferment. We met often. I found him as near to the 
 Catholic Church as I was. In some things, in which I had still 
 remaining difficulties, he had none. He told me that he would 
 not again accept anything in the Church of England. In the 
 April after, I submitted to the Church ; soon after Bishop Denison 
 of Salisbury died.i Gladstone appointed Hamilton, and, as I 
 was told, he and Sidney Herbert overcame and made him 
 
 ^ Bishop Denison died in 1854 ; and Mr. Gladstone, who under the 
 Premiership of Lord Aberdeen had mitres at his disposal, made Hamilton, 
 Bishop of Salisbury. Had Manning remained in the Anglican Church, for 
 him, too, Mr. Gladstone would in due course have found a mitre.
 
 532 CAKDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 accept the bisliopric. I had reason to know how much 
 Hamilton suffered, and what profound trials were upon him 
 when his last end drew near. How often have I blessed God 
 that He led me by the strait and narrow wa}% 
 
 The Declaration against the judgment of the Judicial 
 Committee of the Privy Council, which at the last moment 
 Mt. Gladstone found himself unable to sign, is as follows : — 
 
 1. That whatever at the present time be the force of the 
 sentence delivered on appeal in the case of Gorham v. the 
 Bishop of Exeter, the Church of England will eventually be 
 bound by the said sentence, unless it shall openly and expressly 
 reject the erroneous doctrine sanctioned thereby. 
 
 2. That the remission of original sin to all infants in and by 
 the grace of baptism is an essential part of the article " One 
 Baptism for the remission of sins." 
 
 3. That — to omit other questions raised by the said sentence 
 — such sentence, while it does not deny the liberty of holding 
 that article in the sense heretofore received, does equally 
 sanction the assertion that original sin is a bar to the right 
 reception of baptism, and is not remitted, except when God 
 bestows regeneration beforehand by an act of prevenient grace 
 (whereof Holy Scripture and the Church are wholly silent), 
 thereby rendering the benefits of Holy Baptism altogether 
 uncertain and precarious. 
 
 4. That to admit the lawfulness of holding an exposition of 
 an article of the Creed contradictory of the essential meaning of 
 that article, is, in truth and in fact, to abandon that article. 
 
 5. That, inasmuch as the faith is one and rests upon one 
 principle of authority, the conscious, deliberate, and wilful 
 abandonment of the essential meaning of an article of the Creed 
 destroys the divine foundation upon which alone the entire faith 
 is propounded by the Church. 
 
 6. That any portion of the Church which does so abandon 
 the essential meaning of an article, forfeits, not only the Catholic 
 doctrine in that article, but also the office and authority to 
 witness and teach as a member of the universal Church. 
 
 7. That by such conscious, wilful, and deliberate act such 
 portion of the Church becomes formally separated from the 
 Catholic body, and can no longer assure to its members the 
 grace of the sacraments and the remission of sins. 
 
 8. That all measures consistent witli the present legal ])osition 
 of the Church ought to be taken without delay, to obtain an 
 authoritative declaration by the Church of the doctrine of Holy
 
 XXV THE GORHAM JUDGMENT 533 
 
 Baptism, impugned by the recent sentence ; as, for instance, by 
 praying licence for the Church in Convocation to give legal 
 efiFect to the decisions of the collective Episcopate on this and 
 all other matters purely spiritual. 
 
 9. That, failing such measures, all efforts must be made to 
 obtain from the said Episcopate, acting only in its spiritual 
 character, a re-affirmation of the doctrine of Holy Baptism, 
 impugned by the said sentence. 
 
 H. E. Manning, M. A., Archdeacon of Chichester. 
 Robert I. Wilberforce, M.A., Archdeacon of the East 
 
 Riding. 
 Thomas Thorp, B.D., Archdeacon of Bristol. 
 W. H. Mill, D.D., Regius Professor of Hebrew, 
 
 Cambridge. 
 E. B. PusEY, D.D., Regius Professor of Hebrew, 
 
 Oxford. 
 John Keble, M.A., Vicar of Hursley. 
 W. DoDSWORTH, M.A., Perpetual Curate of Ch. Ch., St. 
 
 Pancras. 
 W. J. E. Bennett, M.A., Perpetual Curate of St. 
 
 Paul's, Knightsbridge. 
 Hy. W. Wilberforce, M.A., Vicar of East Farleigh. 
 John G. Talbot, M.A., Barrister-at-Law. 
 Richard Cavendish, M.A. 
 Edward Badeley, M.A., Barrister-at-Law. 
 James R. Hope, D.C.L., Barrister-at-Law. 
 
 For Archdeacon Manning and many others, events were 
 marching slowly but surely to their ultimate issue. Among 
 the signatories of the famous Protest there was a searching 
 of hearts ; a winnowing of wheat from chaff. 
 
 "On 19th March 1850," as Cardinal Manning has 
 recorded in an autobiographical Note, 
 
 I convened the clergy of the Archdeaconry of Chichester in the 
 Cathedral Library, and we unanimously voted (8 only excepted 
 out of 100) a protest against the Gorham Judgment and the 
 interference of civil authority in questions of doctrine. 
 
 The unanimity which he obtained for the Protest in such 
 a diocese as Chichester speaks well not only for the influence 
 of the Archdeacon of Chichester, but for his tact in appeal- 
 ing to the sympathies of the clergy ; not so much on the 
 doctrinal question of baptismal regeneration as on what 
 touched them far more nearly, the independence of the
 
 534 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 Church in spiritual matters from the control of the Civil 
 Power. " To secure to the Church of England a proper 
 court of appeal in all matters purely spiritual," was a 
 question \vliich went home to the bosom of the Evangelical 
 clergy of Chichester. In substituting for the Judicial Com- 
 mittee of the Privy Council a purely ecclesiastical court for 
 deciding questions of faith, Manning boldly struck at the 
 root of the evil. He advocated his favourite scheme of an 
 Ecclesiastical Synod, invested with full authority by the 
 Church to deal with things spiritual. But such a scheme was 
 doomed beforehand to failure ; for it would have revolution- 
 ised the whole constitution of the Church of England by 
 transferring supreme power over ecclesiastical causes from 
 the Crown to the Episcopate. In his speech the Archdeacon 
 defined his scheme as follows : — 
 
 The only form in which the Episcopate can exercise its proper 
 authority, and impress the Episcopal character on its decisions, is 
 when it acts according to the law and order of the Church. 
 Therefore, although the State should appoint the whole body of 
 the bishops taken numerically to sit as a court, if they sit as 
 commissioners appointed by the State, and not as a synod con- 
 vened by the authority of the Church, their decision Avould be 
 the decision of commissioners, and not of an Episcopal synod. 
 What appears to me to be requisite in this case is such an 
 Appellate Court as shall carry with it the authority of the Church 
 determining its own sphere. I will go into no particulars as to 
 whom it shall consist of, but only that it shall include the whole 
 Episcopate. 
 
 In another passage of this speech, Manning wisely 
 endeavoured to account for the error he had committed in 
 his charge of July 1848 in minimising the heretical oj)inions 
 of Dr. Hampden, thrust upon the Church as bishop by the 
 act of the Civil Power. For this concession to policy. Man- 
 ning had been severely rebuked by the Tractarians, and even 
 reproached at the time by such true friends as Eobert 
 Wilberforce and Dodsworth, though Mr. Gladstone seemed 
 to have approved of his conciliatory policy. At this meet- 
 ing at Chichester, Manning explained the motives for his line 
 of action towards Hampden. Speaking of Hampden's conse- 
 cration as Bishop of Hereford, he said : —
 
 XXV THE GORHAM JUDGMENT 535 
 
 I SO deeply felt that case, that if the English Church could 
 have been convicted of either consecrating a heretic, or of giving 
 up to the State the power of finally determining the fitness of 
 men for the pastoral office, it would have been a betrayal of her 
 divine trust. I tried to deny both these accusations, and in 
 denying them I confess I strained every plea to the utmost, 
 feeling the necessity of the case to be so vital. I fell under 
 censure for so doing, which censure I bore in silence, believing 
 and fearing that the time would come, and perhaps before long, 
 when an opportunity might be taken — for I would never make 
 it — of expressing to you Avhy I did so. I felt that if these two 
 accusations could not be denied, the Church of England would 
 be put into a position not defensible. I bore therefore in silence 
 no very measured censure. I am glad now to be able to say 
 that in so speaking I did not defend Dr. Hampden, but the 
 Church of England. It appeared to me in that case the security 
 for both the doctrine and discipline of the Church was at stake, 
 and that the power of the State had in effect succeeded in over- 
 ruling the highest office of the Church. The same is the result 
 of the present case.^ 
 
 Though the meeting of the clergy of Chichester broke up 
 without agreeing with Manning's proposal for a new final 
 Court of Appeal, the Archdeacon so impressed them with the 
 gravity of the question before them as touching the faith 
 and ofl&ce of the Church, that he found no very great 
 difficulty in inducing the majority to put their names to 
 the following Address to the Bishop of Chichester : — 
 
 19th March 1850. 
 
 We, the Archdeacon and clergy of the archdeaconry of 
 Chichester, desire to lay before your Lordship, as our Bishop, 
 the deep anxiety awakened in us by the decision lately given in 
 the case of Gorham v. the Bishop of Exeter. 
 
 Believing as a fundamental article of the Catholic faith, that 
 all infants baptized, according to the institution of Christ, with 
 water in name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy 
 Ghost are regenerate by the Holy Spirit, we are convinced that 
 the Church cannot, without betraying her highest trust, permit 
 that doctrine to be denied. 
 
 ^ In a letter, 4th April 1850, Mr. Gladstone wrote to Manning : — "I have 
 read your speech in the Gtmrdian, as well as the type, and my eyes (rather 
 put out by irregular hours) would allow, and trust it will do great and 
 extensive good."
 
 536 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 We therefore urgently pray that your Lordship will take such 
 steps as shall seem most effectual for the declaration and main- 
 tenance of the doctrine of holy baptism, and for relieving those 
 who feel grieved in conscience by the legal sanction given by the 
 late sentence to the denial of that article of faith. 
 
 Mr. Gladstone's plan for an Address to the Bishop of 
 London, signed by laymen only, against the Gorham Judgment, 
 did not meet with much success. Hope was ready to sign 
 it ; but not as a substitute for the joint declaration of repre- 
 sentative clergy and laymen. The joint declaration Mr. 
 Gladstone found himself as Privy Councillor unable to sign. 
 In like manner Sidney Herbert, owing to his position in the 
 Government, declined to sign the Address to the Bishop of 
 London. 
 
 Mr. Gladstone, evidently somewhat uneasy in mind at 
 the step he had taken in withdrawing co-operation with 
 Manning, in a letter, 4th April 1850, wrote as follows: — 
 
 I was very anxious to have employed all the quiet of this 
 week in arranging my views about the Gorham question, so as 
 to be ready to act promptly whenever the time comes. ... I 
 am most anxious for advice and guidance, being placed between 
 a variety of distinct obligations, the harmony of which it is not 
 easy to discern at certain given points. 
 
 Mr. Gladstone then again reiterates his view so often 
 before urged upon Manning, 
 
 that his best way of serving the Church is by working not in the 
 State, but o/i the State, you will comprehend all that the change 
 of the single letter implies. 
 
 About the time of the Hampden controversy and of the 
 Maynooth Grant, Mr. Gladstone had serious intentions of 
 setting himself free from political shackles in order with a 
 freer hand to serve the Church. Manning, however, was 
 strongly opposed to Mr. Gladstone's heroic self-sacrifice in 
 giving up his political career. 
 
 This view is foreshadowed again in the following 
 passage : — 
 
 Sidney Herbert's declining to sign the address to the
 
 XXV THE GORIIAM JUDGMENT 537 
 
 Bishop of London seems to come to me as a sign to prepare for 
 making that change soon ; for the reluctance of other men in 
 politics to commit themselves in any degree of course must 
 tend to drive me forward, as the keeping in company with them 
 would tend to hold me back. Do not understand me to be 
 blaming him ; doubtless he has his work and is doing it. 
 
 Can we be surprised at the poignant anxiety expressed 
 by Manning at the fatal effect of the Gorham Judgment, 
 when we see how tremendously in earnest Mr. Gladstone 
 was in seeking to provide a remedy or a rescue for the 
 Church of England ? The following passage from his letter 
 to Manning speaks volumes : — 
 
 In the meantime, all the essential points stand out more 
 and more, as one ruminates upon them, in characters of light. 
 It is for ever, and for all, that this battle is to be fought in the 
 Church of England. 
 
 The question which most troubled both his conscience 
 and Manning's, was how to provide a new Ecclesiastical 
 Court as a supreme Court of Appeal in place of the Judicial 
 Committee of the Privy Council, over things spiritual. 
 Manning was characteristically anxious for an ecclesiastical 
 court absolutely independent of the State not only in its 
 decisions, but in its constitution. Mr. Gladstone, on the 
 other hand, would have been content with less : — 
 
 I am unfeignedly desirous of asking the very least that 
 will rescue and defend the conscience of the Church from the 
 present hideous system. For on that minimum must be made 
 a stand, involving certainly tremendous issues. 
 
 The Gorham Appeal and its foreseen result had made 
 Manning and many other of his friends or followers familiar 
 with the idea of secession as a necessary consequence. 
 
 Early in the year, W. Dodsworth had pressed on 
 Manning's attention what must needs be the final issue of 
 the struggle. W. Dodsworth was one of those men who 
 literally mean what they say ; for in telling his friend and 
 Master to " wait and see " the result of the Gorham Judg- 
 ment, he had no thought of procrastination in his mind ; 
 for, on the Judgment being pronounced, he was the first
 
 538 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 to uTfje upon Manning that the time for leaving the Church 
 of England had come. 
 
 Mr. Gladstone, on the other hand, had invented an 
 elaborate scheme for the express purpose of securing pro- 
 crastination in coming to a decision on the Gorham Judg- 
 ment.^ Under this plan, men whose minds had been disturbed 
 by the practical abolition of one of the articles of the creed 
 were to enter into a covenant not to take any decisive steps 
 or announce their intention of doing so under a given space 
 of time ; nor, secondly, until the reception of communications 
 from the Delegation — to which communications, however, 
 there was no necessity to reply. Manning, in the following 
 letter, objected root and branch to entering into this covenant, 
 and handing over to a delegation a decision on a matter of 
 faith which belonged wholly and solely to his conscience : — 
 
 Lavingtox, 22nd May 1850. 
 
 My dear Robert — First will you kindly direct the enclosed 
 to Mr. Pope? I do not know his Christian name, or address. Next, 
 have you examined the Bishop of London's Bill 1 It seems to 
 me to be a total and -vdtal failure. 
 
 The Crown in Council is to possess still the absolute poAver 
 of deciding whether or no any question of doctrine is involved, 
 and of referring to the bishop or not accordingly. 
 
 Now in the Gorham case they say that they have not touched 
 doctrine at all. 
 
 Again and again, therefore, the same catII may be inflicted 
 under the same disclaimer upon the other eleven articles of the 
 Creed. 
 
 Half the Church of England, and our dear brother among the 
 rest, maintains that doctrine has not been touched. This seems 
 to me like quos Deus vuU pcrdere, etc. Further, Gladstone has 
 written to me on a scheme he says he spoke of to you (as he 
 thinks), an engagement to be entered into binding men not to 
 move Avithout two months' notice, and opportunities of discussion, 
 etc. 
 
 I have answered that I can in no way accede. I object to 
 all engagement; and I dread exceedingly the temptation to 
 tamper with personal convictions and individual conscience 
 
 ^ In a letter to Archdeacon Manning, Mr. Gladstone said, "Among 
 others I have consulted Robert Wilberforce and Wegg-Prosser and they 
 seemed inclined to favour mj' proposal. It might, perhaps, have kept back 
 Lord Feilding. But he is like a cork. "
 
 XXV THE GORIIAM JUDGMENT 539 
 
 and the support derived from numbers against our light before 
 our Father which seeth in secret. These and many more 
 reasons make my declining final. 
 
 Let me ask you to read the enclosed, and tell me what you 
 would advise me to answer. Eeturn it soon. The writer is 
 a woman, who under my counsel broke off a marriage because 
 the man joined the Eoman Chui'ch. After some time he came 
 back ; but this Gorham case has driven him over again. She 
 has broken it off again, but her own mind has become disturbed. 
 Ever yours, my dear E., very affectionately, H. E. M. 
 
 To these objections Mr. Gladstone answered in a letter 
 dated 23rd May 1850; but his arguments failed to carry 
 conviction. 
 
 In the following letter to Eobert Wilberforce, Manning 
 again rejected Mr. Gladstone's scheme as an interference with 
 the rights and duty of every individual to act simply and 
 solely in obedience to the dictates of his own conscience : — 
 
 Lavington, lOth July 1850. 
 
 My dear Egbert — No human power, or persuasion, could 
 induce me to put my hand to any such declaration, especially 
 in combination with men who could sign it in a sense and with 
 an animus so different from my own. 
 
 But in truth I have resolved to combine with no one. When 
 I refused Gladstone's proposal, to whom affection and confidence 
 bind me so closely, I refused all proposals of this kind for ever. 
 Events have set me loose, and I mean, by God's help, to follow 
 what seems His guidance, taking counsel chiefly of yourself, 
 Gladstone, James Hope. If I might I would urge you to 
 the same course. It will not preclude us from aiding to the 
 full in any reasonable plan, but it will secure us from most 
 inconsistent and mischievous combinations, the end of which 
 will be confusion or compromise. As to the pacific plan, it 
 seems to me simply unreal. Can you, knowing our Colonial 
 bishops, and our home bishops, and the state of English life, 
 law, opinion, and practice, expect any real result 1 It seems to 
 me a plan to amuse and lull real intentions, and to lead only 
 to great words and protests, under the sounds of which men 
 may go on without acting. But perhaps I ought not to say so 
 much without knowing more, for I have no knowledge of it 
 except from you. Still I Avould pray you to keep yourself 
 free and absolutely in your own hand. 
 
 I hope to be in London also about the 17th, and will fix that 
 day if you will. — Ever yours very affectionately, H. E. M.
 
 540 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 It was resolved to follow up the " Eesolutions," bearing 
 the signatures of thirteen representative men, lay and 
 clerical, by another Declaration against the Eoyal Supremacy 
 over spiritual questions touching doctrine and discipline. 
 This Declaration, which was drawn up by Manning and 
 Eobert Wilberforce, was not submitted to the pruning hands 
 of Pusey and Keble. Dodsworth, in a letter dated Good 
 Friday {7th April), 1850, had already warned Manning 
 against trusting Pusey and Keble. Speaking of the first 
 Declaration he had said : — 
 
 Our late discussions have quite convinced me that if we 
 mean to be faithful to our Lord's Truth, we must break with 
 Pusey and Keble. 
 
 In regard to this second Declaration, Dodsworth, who 
 was a very outspoken man, and never shrank from calling 
 a spade a spade, wrote as follows to Manning : — 
 
 I really think we had best leave out Pusey and Keble, who 
 can do us no good. We know all they have to say and that it 
 
 He also spoke of Pusey's specious argument about the 
 Gorham Judgment not affecting the Faith as " carrying a 
 multitude of ignoramuses with him." 
 
 Though he considered him imprudent in speech and 
 precipitate in action. Manning had a great liking for 
 Dodsworth, and was in no small measure influenced by his 
 urgent appeals or outspoken warnings. Whether or no, 
 owing to Manning's own mistrust of them, or to Dodsworth's 
 advice, neither Pusey nor Keble was consulted. The 
 declaration was as follows : — 
 
 "Whereas it is required of every person admitted to the 
 order of deacon or priest, and likewise of persons admitted to 
 ecclesiastical offices or academical degrees, to make oath that 
 they abjure, and to subscribe to the three articles of Canon 
 XXXVI., one whereof touches the Royal Supremacy : 
 
 " And whereas it is now made evident by the late appeal and 
 sentence in the case Gorham v. the Bishop of Exeter, and by the 
 judgment of all the courts of common law, that the Koyal 
 Supremacy, as defined and estabUshed by statute law, invests
 
 XXV THE GORHAM JUDGMENT 541 
 
 the Crown with a power of hearing and deciding in appeal all 
 matters, however purely spiritual, of discipline and doctrine : 
 
 "And whereas to give such power to the Crown is at variance 
 with the divine office of the Universal Church, as prescribed by 
 the law of Christ : 
 
 " And whereas we, the undersigned clergy and laity of the 
 Church of England, at the time of making the said oath and 
 subscription, did not understand the Royal Supremacy in the 
 sense now ascribed to it by the courts of law, nor have until 
 this present time so understood it, neither have believed that 
 such authority was claimed on behalf of our Sovereign : — 
 
 " Now we do hereby declare : — 
 
 " 1st, That we have hitherto acknowledged, and do now 
 acknowledge, the supremacy of the Crown in ecclesiastical 
 matters to be a supreme civil power over all persons and causes 
 in temporal things, and over the temporal accidents of spiritual 
 things. 
 
 " 2nd, That we do not, and in conscience cannot, acknowledge 
 in the Crown the power recently exercised to hear and judge in 
 appeal the internal state or merits of spiritual questions touching 
 doctrine or discipline, the custody of which is committed to the 
 Church alone by the law of Christ. 
 
 " We therefore, for the sake of our consciences, hereby 
 publicly declare that we acknowledge the Royal Supremacy in 
 the sense above, and in no other. 
 
 " Henry Edward Manning, Archdeacon of Chichester. 
 
 " Robert Isaac Wilberforce, Archdeacon of the East Riding. 
 
 " William Hodge Mill, D.D., Regius Professor of Hebrew, 
 Cambridge." 
 
 The Declaration, which was circulated all over the 
 country, — sent to every beneficed clergyman and layman 
 who had taken the Oath of Supremacy, bore only the names 
 of Manning, Robert Wilberforce, and Mill. It was hoped 
 by this means to rouse the religious feeling of the country 
 and to bring a mass of clerical opinion to bear, if not on 
 the government, upon the Bench of Bishops. The result of 
 this appeal was a signal failure. The spirited Protest 
 against the Royal Supremacy fell flat. The vast and 
 overwhelming bulk of the clergy of the Church of England, 
 like the bishops, by their silence or acquiescence acknow- 
 ledged the supremacy of the Crown in matters of faith — 
 the original sin of the Reformation.
 
 542 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 In a letter dated 1st May 1850, Manning wrote 
 about the Declaration to E. Wilberforce as follows :— 
 
 Lavington, i^casi of St. James, 1850. 
 
 ^Iy dear Egbert — The best practical course seems to me 
 to be : 1. To make sure that every man who is under oath and 
 subscription bound to the Eoyal Supremacy should have a copy 
 of the Declaration, with a few explanatory words, stating that 
 our object is to obtain relief of consciences by an amendment of 
 the law, and asking his concurrence and assent to the Declara- 
 tion : We shall do this best (1) by printing the documents; (2) 
 by engaging some bookseller's service, say Pickering or Stewart, 
 who by a clerk, and the clergy list, with the University Calendars, 
 will issue the circular in a few days. I am more than ever con- 
 vinced that both for the Church Unions' sake, and for our own, 
 the act ought to be independent, and to carry no appearance of 
 organisation, and only so many, and such names, as will obtain 
 attention. It cannot be too quickly and prompth^ done with 
 a view to its future moral character. —Believe me, always 
 affectionately yours, H. E. Manning. 
 
 Here is another letter on the same subject, dated 27th 
 July 1850:— 
 
 My dearest Egbert — I have sent the Declaration (which 
 is much improved) to Henry, Avith words of speed. But I have 
 put only the three names without any comment. 
 
 It strikes me that if Ave can get a majority of the clergy to 
 sign, the Bishop of London's Bill is carried by a strike out of doors ; 
 the more I think of it, the more I feel convinced that this is the 
 first step to take, and the best test of men's minds. If this does 
 not move them, nothing will. 
 
 In the following passage of a letter, dated Lavington, 
 5th August 1850, the cost of distributing the Declaration is 
 considered : — 
 
 My dear Egbert — If you will kindly give £10 I Avill 
 answer for the rest. If Avorth doing, it is Avorth doing Avell. 
 To my mind there is no middle course. A partial distribution, 
 howsoever extensive, would fail of the mark. Three laymen, 
 and tAvo other friends, have promised to join in bearing the cost 
 — and if you think Charles Anderson Avould give you £10 — I 
 have no fear of £100, Avhich I think well bestOAved as a first step 
 upon this scale. If anything comes, it Avill be something more 
 than a mere declaration.
 
 XXV THE GORIIAM JUDGMENT 543 
 
 But we must wait, and you will kindly keep Clarke's name 
 in peifo. To my great sur[irise I found him mouths ago deeply 
 and honestly moved. 
 
 In an autobiographical Note, dated 1885, Cardinal 
 Manning set down the following account of the origin and 
 genesis of the ill-fated Declaration : — 
 
 In the month of May or June in 1850, I was staying at 
 Bishop Wilberforce's house in Eaton Place. Robert Wilberforce 
 was there. We were both trying to find some way of acting 
 against the Gorham Judgment. I remember one night I woke 
 about 4 o'clock ; and lay awake long. I then worked out the 
 Declaration against the Royal Supremacy ; admitting it in all 
 civil matters, but rejecting it in all spiritual and mixed matters. 
 I then went and woke Robert Wilberforce and put it before 
 him. He accepted it at once. We then got it into writing, 
 and invited Dr. ]\Iill to sign it with us. We then sent it to 
 every clergyman and layman who had signed the Oath of 
 Supremacy, and to all colleges and newspapers, inviting 
 signatures. About 1800 clergymen signed it out of 20,000; 
 and I saw that the game was up. It was a fair test fully 
 applied ; and it received next to no response. 
 
 Of course the result of this appeal to the clergy was not 
 known until late in the autumn. In the meanwhile other 
 steps were taken to arouse public opinion. It was proposed 
 to hold a great meeting in London to protest against the 
 Gorham Judgment. Manning was unwilling to take part 
 in such a meeting. He was ready to abide by his own 
 words, which were always deliberate and well weighed, but 
 he did not like to be held responsible for the words or pro- 
 posals of others. At such a meeting intemperate words would 
 not fail to be heard, or worse still, threats of secession. 
 
 Manning consulted James Hope, and expressed his wish 
 or intention not to take part in any public meeting, or join 
 in any concerted or common action. 
 
 In a letter dated 18tli June 1850, Hope replied as 
 follows : — 
 
 I have no very clear view about your attendance at the 
 proposed meeting at St. Martin's Hall. The dangers are — 
 saying too much or saying too little. If you tell people all you
 
 544 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 expect the Church of England to do under the circumstances, 
 they will shrink back ; if you are moderate in your requirements, 
 they may think you will be more easily satisfied than I know 
 "will prove to be the case ; however, if j'-ou see your way as to 
 Avhat you would say, I see good rather than evil in your attend- 
 ance. A tone of thorough alarm must, I think, aftect those who, 
 though right-minded, are inclined to view our position as 
 favourably as possible. 
 
 Mr. Gladstone, consulted on the subject by Manning, 
 expressed a strong opinion that in such a time of pressure 
 the help and guidance, which they had been accustomed 
 to receive from him, should not be withdrawn. Mr. 
 Gladstone argued with great warmth, that Manning had no 
 moral right to abstain from taking public part in all move- 
 ments and attempts to undo the great wrong which had 
 been inflicted on the Church. 
 
 Manning, yielding to pressure, did attend the meeting 
 held on 23rd July 1850 at St. Martin's Hall, Long Acre, to 
 protest against the Gorham Judgment. There was only 
 one bishop present, the Bishop of Bath and Wells, Dr. 
 Bagot, who, as Bishop of Oxford, had requested Newman to 
 discontinue the Tracts for the Times. Bishop Wilberforce 
 was by far too canny to attend. The meeting was presided 
 over by Mr. J. G. Hubbard ; Archdeacon Eobert Wilber- 
 force of course was there, and so were Prof. Hodge Mill, 
 Henry Wilberforce, and W. Dodsworth, Keble and Pusey, 
 and Denison, W. E. Bennett, Neale, and E. Liddell ; James 
 Hope was conspicuous among the laity, with Badeley and 
 all the leading High Church Anglicans. 
 
 Denison, now Archdeacon of Taunton, made the principal 
 and most stirring speech. The meeting was fairly carried 
 away by his bold appeals to immediate action, and open threats 
 of secession, if liberty to decide matters of faith was not given 
 to the Church of England. Denison, who had no hesitation 
 in making use of the most vehement language, and showed 
 little or no respect to the craven conduct of the bishops, 
 threw every one else into the shade. In a letter to Manning, 
 James Hope spoke of Denison's speech as most injudicious, 
 and as having brought upon them the attack of the Times.
 
 XXV THE GORIIAM JUDGMENT 545 
 
 Manning had not spoken, and after Denison's denunciations 
 had little or no heart to speak. At the close of the meeting 
 lie only moved a vote of thanks to the chairman. 
 
 At this public meeting in London, which was not much 
 to his taste. Manning played a subordinate part. In the 
 resolutions, declarations, and protests, if always foremost in 
 action and firmest in expression, he acted in combination 
 witli others. But in his letter to his bishop Manning 
 stood alone, — was alone responsible for its form and sub- 
 stance. It was a public act ; an open avowal of principles ; 
 a distinct charge that the Crown in Council had committed 
 a great and grievous wrong against the spiritual independ- 
 ence of the Church in regard to matters of Faith. 
 
 His carefully prepared and elaborate Tract, in the form 
 of a letter addressed to his bishop, under the title " Appellate 
 Jurisdiction of the Crown in matters Spiritual," was the 
 most important step taken by Archdeacon Manning since 
 the Gorham Judgment. In the preparation of this Letter, 
 which deals largely with historical precedents and legal 
 questions of pre-Eeformation times touching the " ancient 
 jurisdiction " possessed by princes, and their power in 
 judging in appeal on spiritual matters. Manning was 
 efficiently assisted by James Hope, an eminent lawyer, who 
 had made the relations between Church and Crown a special 
 study. Mr. Gladstone, whom Manning likewise consulted, 
 and to whom he sent the proof-sheets of his Letter to the 
 Bishop of Chichester, was much concerned lest the Arch- 
 deacon, who was not familiar with such nice historical and 
 legal questions, might be led astray by his arguments or 
 preconceived opinions. 
 
 In a letter, dated 6 Carlton Gardens, 26th June 1850, 
 Mr. Gladstone made the following remarks : — 
 
 My dear Manning — I need hardly write to say that your 
 proof-sheets -will have my best attention. The point to which I 
 shall look in critical and rather jealous temper will be your 
 historical proofs ; because I do not recollect that heretofore you 
 have busied yourself with proof of that kind in the same subject 
 matter, and l)ecause it must be made in most cases not wholesale, 
 but by careful and systematic pondering of details. Now, you 
 
 VOL. I 2 N
 
 546 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 are setting about to prove that the Reformation Supremacy differs 
 essentially from that, not indeed of the immediate, but of the 
 more remote pre-Reformation period : i.e. to deny the sense 
 which not only the formularies of the Church, but the text of the 
 law-books give to certain legal declarations. 
 
 This, upon the face of it, is a bold undertaking ; and surely 
 every principle of duty will bind you to the strictest examina- 
 tion and proof, and to ruling real doubts, otherwise insoluble, not 
 for, but against, your conclusion. 
 
 ... It is, I feel, a tremendous thing to err in our historical 
 bases when they are likely to be the ground of great measures 
 affecting the Avhole life and conscience. . . . 
 
 These words hit myself, and they are meant to do so. I 
 hope that the matter of the Royal Supremacy will now be 
 bolted to the very bran. I am sure the time has come which 
 renders it matter of vital necessity. And do not think that 
 what I have said of jealous criticism implies foregone conclusion 
 or conscious bias. I rejoice from my heart that you are going 
 to work in the mine. In my view the Reformation scheme of 
 Church and State is essentially shifted from its centre of gravity. 
 You incline to think it never had one. Our practical results 
 may nevertheless coincide. — Your affectionate friend, 
 
 W. E. Gladstone. 
 
 In this day of trial, as he told Robert Wilberforce, 
 Manning was doing his best in consoling his relatives. 
 To his sister, Mrs. Austen, he wrote the following touching 
 letter : — 
 
 Lavington, I8th June 1850. 
 
 My dearest Caroline — Your letter has been a real solace 
 to me, and I need it, for we are in a trial greater than I have 
 ever known, and fraught, I believe, wath the gravest consequences. 
 
 But, first, let me tell you to believe nothing of me but what 
 comes from me. The world has sent me long ago to Pius IX., but 
 I am still here ; and if I may lay my bones under the sod in 
 Lavington Churchyard Avith a soul clear before God, all the 
 world could not move me. 
 
 If we were together I believe you would say that I am both 
 calm and patient, deeply sad indeed, and reduced to silence. 
 For I am compelled to acknowledge that the laws which I believe 
 to be di^•ine are violated, and that the Church of England is in 
 many points indefensible. This I never would hear in silence 
 before. 
 
 People tell me to trust and love the Church of England : Who
 
 XXV THE GORHAM JUDGMENT 547 
 
 has trusted or loved it more 1 Who loves it more now, even 
 when the foundtations of trust are shaken 1 When have I spoken 
 or written a word in any spirit but of love and reverence, or 
 with any intention but to serve it for Christ's sake ? I believe 
 in this 3^ou will hold me clear. My contest now is with the 
 State and the world, with secular churchmen and those who of 
 a divine would make it a human society, or at the best a 
 Protestant communion. 
 
 But I did not mean to write all this. Give my truest love 
 to the Colonel, and say that I hope he will be at this meeting. 
 I have put myself into the hands of two advisers, to be there 
 if they bid me. 
 
 So much for troubles. God be praised they are only outer 
 ones. Through all this I feel something within which stills all 
 outward noise. God is bringing us by the right way ; but it is 
 a rough one, and yet therefore right and sure. And I feel that 
 the love of our Divine Lord will keep us all safe. It is His 
 goodness which gives me the consolation of so many loving 
 hearts, and yours among the kindest. May He bless you both. 
 — Ever your most afi'ectionate brother, H. E. M. 
 
 To Mrs. Austen, who had expressed alarm lest he should 
 be carried beyond his judgment by the influence of friends, 
 Manning replied as follows : 
 
 Lavinqton, SOth June 1850. 
 
 My dearest Caroline — Your letter was great solace to 
 me ; for no one can tell what I am going through. 
 
 You said nothing amiss of my friend Dodsworth.^ He has 
 
 ^ In one of his stray Notes or Memoranda, undated, Cardinal Manning gave 
 the following account of W. Dodsworth : — " William Dodsworth was a Cam- 
 bridge man, who took Anglican Orders and had Margaret Chapel, now All 
 Saints, Margaret Street. I knew him just about 1836, and soon became very- 
 intimate with him. He was a man of a strong clear but dry head, without 
 imagination or fertility, but accurate and logical. His character was upright 
 and truthful in a high degree, and with a warmth of heart very rare. We 
 travelled together in Normandy, in Scotland, and finally in Switzerland 
 in 1847." 
 
 Several times these travels are referred to in the letters ; but especially 
 that of 1847. "In February of that year I fell ill of bronchitis; and was 
 completely knocked down in June, as in Paris in 1876. I was shut up from 
 February to June or July Then went to Hamburg. Dodsworth met me at 
 Mayence. W^e went on to Basle and Lucerne, intending to go to Milan. 
 Between Basle and Lucerne I caught a heavy cold, and at Lucerne was taken 
 with severe gastric fever. I had sufl'ered from intense August heat at 
 Hamburg, and Switzerland in September was like an English November.
 
 548 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 been hasty and rough, and I am grieved at it ; but he has a 
 manly and loving heart ; and is true as day. I must also say 
 that there was more cause than I could wish for in what he 
 said. 
 
 As to my own advisers, they are Gladstone and James Hope, 
 and I may say Robert Wilberforce. I think abler, calmer, and 
 safer I could hardly find. No, no mind has any influence to 
 hurry me beyond my own judgment ; on the contrary ; and I am 
 detached from every one, and going alone, for I feel that what 
 we have to judge of now must be judged, one by one, for himself. 
 Therefore be so far at ease about me. 
 
 It is part of the trial that so few really see the peril and the 
 crisis. I believe, as I told you before, that it is no less than the 
 question whether the Church of England be a divine or human 
 society. It is no question of more or less, better or worse, 
 but whether we are in or out of the Faith and Church which 
 our Lord founded by His Apostles. But I cannot go into this 
 in a letter. This week, I hope to send to the press a letter to 
 the Bishop of Chichester. Archdeacon Harrison comes to- 
 morrow, and will go over it with me ; then Gladstone and 
 Hope. I then shall see my way more clearly. Believe me it 
 is most calm, guarded, and weighed, but it goes home. Write 
 as often as you can, for it cheers me. 
 
 I thank God that I have so little to bear from those I love 
 in this time of trial. But you all trust at least my heart before 
 God. Love to you both. — Ever your attached brother, 
 
 H. E. M. 
 
 The Archdeacon's Letter to the Bishop of Chichester, 
 entitled " The Appellate Jurisdiction of the Crown in Spiritual 
 Matters," appeared on 2nd July 1850. It was, as described 
 in the above letter, most calm, guarded, and weighed ; and 
 if it failed not to go home, but to bear the results he desired, 
 it was from no want of lucidity of statement or logical con- 
 ciseness or force of argument. Its moderation in tone, 
 displayed in every line, enhanced the effect of absolute con- 
 viction. It was a masterpiece of lucid statement and subtle 
 reasoning, and if it failed in its purpose it was because the 
 
 I was so ill that I was obliged to return to England. I could hardly walk. 
 I remember seeing people in the steamer on the Rhino making signs as if 
 they thought I was dying. 
 
 " My chief correspondence with Dodsworth was from 1844 when I first 
 knew that Newman was preparing to leave the Church of England. My 
 letters show the waking and advance of my mind in 1847-1850, to the end."
 
 XXV THE GORHAM JUDGMENT 549 
 
 idea, which Manning ever held of the independence of the 
 Church of England, was not consistent with the legal position 
 of Establishment. 
 
 In substance the argument showed : First, the violation 
 of the divine office of the Church as guardian of doctrine and 
 discipline; secondly, that the denial of an article of the 
 universal Creed had received the sanction of the Law, for 
 
 no doctrine is more manifestly universal in its reception in all 
 ages of the Church, both before the division of the East and West, 
 when its united voice gave unerring witness to the faith, and 
 since that division, in all members of the visible Church unto this 
 day. If there be, therefore, such a thing as material heresy, it 
 is the doctrine which has now received the sanction of the law ; 
 
 and thirdly, that divine authority had been brought down 
 to the level of human opinion. 
 
 I do not see how the Church of England can permit two 
 contrary doctrines on Baptism to be propounded to her people 
 without abdicating the divine authority to teach as sent from 
 God ; and a body which teaches under the authority of human 
 interpretation descends to the level of a human society. 
 
 The reserve and moderation of tone maintained through- 
 out this Letter to his bishop is characteristic of Manning, 
 especially in such a season of public excitement when feeling 
 ran high on one side and the other; when the Church of 
 England by the one party in the strife was denounced as 
 betraying her trust and violating the faith, and by the other 
 bade, under penalty of desertion, to act the part of a liveried 
 servant of the State. Manning held out no threat of leaving 
 the Church, even if the ecclesiastical authorities accepted the 
 abolition by the Civil Power of an article of the creed. He 
 would not assume the bishops capable of such a betrayal of 
 their divine trust ; and this implied confidence in them was 
 not only prudent, but lent additional persuasiveness to his 
 appeal. There is, moreover, not the slightest indication 
 throughout the letter that, even before the Gorham Judgment, 
 Manning had utterly lost faith not only in Protestantism 
 but in Anglicanism ; had lost faith in the English Church ; 
 could no longer defend its teaching or position. This, how-
 
 550 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 ever, was his private belief, which he had not as yet been 
 able to act upon, fearing it might be a delusion ; which he 
 had not as yet, even after the Gorham Judgment, thought it 
 his duty to proclaim in public. 
 
 W. Dodsworth, the most outspoken of his friends, who 
 knew Manning's real state of mind, went to the point, to 
 the heart of the difficulty, by asking, " Is there in these days 
 the remotest possibility of getting liberty for the Church of 
 England ? " The letter is as follows : — 
 
 20th July 1850. 
 
 My dearest Friend — One word on your " letter, etc.," which 
 I have just read with great and sorrowful satisfaction. I say 
 smrowful, because ^'violent and ivipatient" as you sometimes think 
 me, I have an ever -recurring feeling of more pain than I can 
 express at the consequence so obviously forced upon me. 
 
 I think you right and forcible throughout, and that without 
 waste of Avords you have insisted upon the real and vital points, 
 demolishing the folly which has been spoken upon them. 
 
 I quite agree that no remedy goes to the root of the matter 
 which does not repeal the statutes of Henry VIII. But this 
 gives rise to a serious question. 
 
 Is it fair and right to ask for such a repeal ? Put yourself in 
 the place of an Erastian. He says, I knew what I was pledging 
 myself to when I took my oath. Does this new discovery of 
 yours entitle you to bind me in a way different from that by 
 which I have already bound myself? In other words, is it not 
 an element in the Church of England, made so when it severed 
 itself from the rest of Christendom, to acknowledge this spiritual 
 supremacy 1 Tlien our plain duty would have been to abide in 
 the old religion rather than accept this innovation. Does the lapse 
 of 300 years make our duty different ? I have thought the 
 same as you of the Royal Supremacy. But we have been mis- 
 taken, and our opponents have thought more correctly of the 
 status of the English Church. Can we in fairness avail ourselves 
 of our mistake (for Avithout it we could not be where we are) to 
 oust them ? I must say this seems to me at least questionable. 
 
 But, dearest friend, is there in these days the remotest possi- 
 bility of getting liberty for the Church hy the repeal of the 
 statutes of Henry VIII. ? Would one-half of the people of your 
 meeting go Avith you in this ? and think Avhat chance you Avould 
 have in the House of Commons or with the people of England, 
 who think more of a farthing in the pound than of the Avhole 
 body of statutes affecting the Church. Only, if they have a
 
 XXV THE GORIIAM JUDGMENT 551 
 
 strong feeling, it is against priestcraft and exercise of spiritual 
 power. No, it can never be ; and with this conviction have I 
 any right to be where I am ? ... To me it will be a trial to act 
 without you. I have long expected only to follow, or at most 
 accompany you. But things seem brought to a crisis with me. . . 
 — Ever yours most affectionately, W. DoDSWOiiTii. 
 
 The Eev. W. Maskell, the examming chaplain of the 
 Bishop of London, wrote to Archdeacon Manning after the 
 Gorham Judgment, saying — 
 
 My first step is over — a bitter, painful one ; more bitter in 
 the doing than in the anticipation. I preached this morning. . . . 
 
 In his sermon, Mr. Maskell announced the resignation 
 of his benefice in consequence of the Gorham Judgment. 
 His letter concluded as follows : — 
 
 Nothing can be more marvellous than the differences at this 
 time between the chief writers in the English Church ; there is 
 not even the semblance of a common principle of defence of their 
 position. Pusey says one thing, Eobert Wilberforce another, 
 Gladstone something else, and you — with an openness for which 
 I give God thanks — speak plainly in contradiction of them all. 
 
 I hope you will not be angry with me for writing so ; but I 
 can't help writing now, remembering you and praying for you 
 every day. And, as I said before, I cannot believe we are so 
 separated as that something of the same confidence which was 
 of old might not still remain. 
 
 I neither speak to you of myself — except that an unspeakable 
 thankfulness fills my heart — nor do I inquire what your plans 
 and prospects are. Time flies very swiftly : it is now six or 
 seven weeks (I think) since we parted at the corner of the street. 
 I shall never forget it. God bless you, keep you, guide you, 
 for ever and ever. — Ever your sincere W. Maskell. 
 
 Two of Manning's most intimate friends had lifted up 
 their voice against the Gorham Judgment and its con- 
 sequences, as fatal to the Church of England. They both 
 alike appealed to Manning, still hesitating. The one by 
 exhortation, the other by example. But for Manning the 
 Gorham Judgment was not yet God's final call.
 
 CHAPTEK XXVI 
 
 THE DAY OF HESITATION MANNING'S LETTERS TO 
 
 ROBERT WILBERFORCE AFTER THE GORHAM JUDGMENT 
 
 March-December 1850 
 
 ]\Ianning was by nature indecisive in action. Prudence, 
 circumspection, the fear of ulterior consequences, induced 
 him to put ofi' as long as possible the day of decision. 
 Until his mind was finally made up, he was inclined to 
 lean upon others ; as in this day of doubt and hesitation 
 he leant all his weight upon Robert Wilberforce. And 
 when Eobert Wilberforce failed him, and hung back on 
 the road to Rome, Manning in dismay and anguish of 
 heart felt as if the ground on which he stood was sinking 
 beneath his feet. W. Dodsworth, reproached as " impatient 
 and violent " because he would not wait for Manning, but 
 passed on and left him behind, as others did — friends and 
 penitents, like Mr. and Mrs. Allies, William Maskell, 
 Laprimaudaye, Lord and Lady Feilding, Henry Wilberforce 
 and his wife. Under a feeling or fear of desertion Manning 
 made a compact with James Hope that they should stand 
 together ; and if so be that they were called, go together 
 step by step on their pilgrimage to Rome. 
 
 Long ago, before the Gorham Judgment, to Robert 
 Wilberforce Manning had acknowledged Anglicanism was 
 a lost cause : a lost hope : a lost faith : that his destiny 
 was Rome. Yet still he hesitated ; hesitated even after the 
 frorham Judgment. His lips were sealed. He would not 
 speak until he was prepared to act. He was waiting he 
 knew not for what. Old hopes were still strong upon
 
 CHAP. XXVI THE DAY OF HESITATION 553 
 
 him ; love for his home and oftice, for his position and work, 
 still bound him, or perhaps, it would be truer to say, blinded 
 him. Like a drowning man, he would have clutched at a 
 straw had a straw come within liis reach. 
 
 In that troublous hour for the Anglican Church, that 
 day of sorrow for so many of our separated brethren, a 
 Novena was held in celebration of the opening of the Church 
 of St. Barnabas, PimUco. Frequent and fervent prayers 
 and communions were offered up, day by day, by pious 
 congregations for the deliverance of the Church in that day 
 of trial from the bondage of the Civil Power.^ 
 
 During the Novena, within the octave of the conse- 
 cration of the Church of St. Barnabas, 1850, all the chief 
 leaders or defenders of the High Church party preached 
 morning and evening. Among the preachers were the 
 Bishop of London, Bishop Wilberforce, Archdeacon Manning, 
 Dr. Pusey, Keble, Sewell, H. W. Wilberforce, Neale, Bennett, 
 Upton Eichards the incumbent of Margaret Street Chapel 
 in succession to Frederick Oakeley, and Dr. Mill the Ptegius 
 Professor of Hebrew at Cambridge. All these representa- 
 tives, both of the High Church and the Tractarian party, one 
 after another from the pulpit of St. Barnabas, denounced 
 the Gorham Judgment, just pronounced by the Privy 
 Council, in terms of righteous indignation ; or bewailed the 
 condition of the Church of England " under the stunning 
 blow," as Dr. Pusey said, " inflicted upon her " ; or exhorted, 
 like H. W. Wilberforce, the bishops to defend " the sacra- 
 ment of baptism against attack, and to preserve the unity 
 of the faith. Of all these preachers, Archdeacon Manning 
 alone was silent : he made no allusion to the Gorham 
 Judgment ; he had not a word to say against the reproach 
 of Dr. Mill " that the last vestiges of Catholicism are gone, 
 or are at least rapidly passing away from sight." 
 
 If the Archdeacon of Chichester had not as yet, since 
 
 ^ Among tlie congregation were Lord and Lady Feilding, afterwards Earl 
 of Denbigh, penitents of Archdeacon Manning, who, as Catholics, some 
 years later, dedicated to Catholic uses the church at Pantasaph, which they 
 had, as Anglicans, intended to devote to the service of the Church of 
 England. Lord Denbigh died soon after Cardinal Manning, his revered 
 teacher, guide, and friend.
 
 55-4 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 his fruitless letter to his bishop on the appellate jurisdiction 
 of the Crown in Council, lifted up his voice before the face 
 of the Church in condemnation of its acceptance of the 
 Gorham Judgment, in his private letters he showed that 
 his heart was wounded to the quick. Thoughts, feelings, 
 resolutions, which in that day of hesitation he did not dare 
 to utter in pubhc, were poured out into the ear of Eobert 
 Wilberforce and of others ; and from these private letters 
 alone is the history of Manning's heart and mind made 
 clear, and the delay in taking the final step accounted for. 
 
 Letteks from Manning to Eobert Wilberforce 
 
 The following letter to Eobert Wilberforce was the first 
 which Manning wrote since his return to Lavington, after 
 they had both agreed, in concert with friends in London, 
 to take common action in protest against the Gorham Judg- 
 ment and the Eoyal Supremacy in spiritual matters : — 
 
 Lavington, 22nd March 1850. 
 
 My dear Egbert — I am thankful and glad to say that we 
 have taken our position. Day by day, I have become more 
 clearly and calmly assured that we have spoken Avhat is true, 
 and done what is right. The more I have looked into the 
 doctrine and the principle involved in it, the more I am con- 
 firmed in believing that faith and unbelief are in presence of 
 each other. 
 
 All this throws me upon the Divine illumination, living and 
 lineal, guiding the Church from the day of Pentecost to the 
 coming of our Lord. And to that truth I say what Euth said 
 to Naomi. — Ever yours, my dear Eobert, very affectionately, 
 
 H. E. M. 
 
 Like confidence is shown in the following letter : — 
 
 Lavington, Wednesday after Easter, 1850, 
 
 My dear Egbert — I hope the enclosed may be of use. . . . 
 Perhaps. Now for the hard realities which are upon us. I feel 
 with you great relief in having taken a clear and definite line. It 
 Avas no sudden resolve, but the simple issue of years of conviction 
 at the point of actual trial. And in the last fortnight of calm and
 
 XXVI THE DAY OF HESITATION 555 
 
 deeper reflection I feel confirmed in an unchanging belief, that 
 what we said is true, and what we did is right, and that, if 
 events demand action, this path of duty is clear before us. I 
 have felt this more in solitude and at the altar, than when 
 surrounded and supported by those who take the same views. 
 
 You shall have a paper to show what these clubs did. They 
 are very hearty, much united, but the thought of a decisive act 
 has not yet come homo to them, I think. — Ever yours aff"ection- 
 ately, H. E. M. 
 
 In the following letter, dated May 1850, Manning's full 
 mind is revealed on the Eeformation : — 
 
 Lavinqton, 10<^ May 1850. 
 
 My dear Egbert — It was a comfort to hear from you, for 
 since I came home I find my convictions return with a fuller 
 tide into the channel from which the hurry of London for a while 
 diverted them. Action, and the pursuit of an immediate object, 
 suspend consecutive thinking. Now that I can review things 
 from a distance, I seem to see one, and one only light, calm 
 and clear, steadfast and expanding. 
 
 I seem to see that all Divine authority in England is at stake, 
 all Divine law for the intellect and for the Avill ; that to reinforce 
 the Divine authority of the Catholic Church as it exists among 
 us we must testify against the whole Reformation schism, which 
 is a national and corporate private judgment ; that we must 
 testify for the Divine authority by suffering, soi'row, loss, and 
 lifelong sacrifice ; that in so doing we shall be not " injuring 
 millions," but instructing, awakening, saving millions. All that 
 we have taught is at stake ; if we wish to rivet it we must 
 suffer for it. 
 
 I did not find Pusey. He was not come. But I have read 
 his book vnih. sadness. Does he believe that the Church is a 
 Divine kingdom ; that for three hundred years it exercised its 
 Divine office, not only without but in spite of emperors ? Can 
 he fail to see that to concede the power of " giving judges " is 
 to make the Church a clerical Westminster Hall? What does 
 he mean by saying " doctrine is not touched, but discipline is " 1 
 Is not doctrine the oral teaching of 15,000 priests, 80,000 
 school teachers, two or three millions of heads of families ? 
 What is the doctrine of the Church but the univoca methoda 
 docendi — the real and unanimous teaching of 1800 years? 
 Can he confound " doctrine " and " dogma " or "Jides " 1 I wish 
 I could go on, but I must stop to-day. — Ever yours, dear Robert, 
 very affectionately, H. E. M.
 
 556 CARDINAL lilANNING chap. 
 
 Lavington, 27th May 1850. 
 
 My dear Robert — The enclosed letter ^ is no more than we 
 might both expect. It may be well that she should not know 
 of my sho^\^ng it to you. I have \ATitten to say that I will see 
 lier, please God, next Saturday, but what am I to say ? Day 
 by day, I receive letters which I cannot answer, and I find 
 these alarms breaking up in fresh minds. Surely the Reforma- 
 tion was a Tudor statute carried by violence and upheld by 
 political power ; and now that the State is divorcing the 
 Anglican Church, it is dissolving. What principle of unity, of 
 coherence, do we possess 1 What principle do we recognise as 
 Divine ? The Bible, the Prayer-book, private judgment and 
 parliamentary establishment seem to me to make up the English 
 Church. It has no idea, principle, unity, theory, or living 
 voice, or will. 
 
 But alas, every morning when I open my ej^es my heart 
 almost breaks. I seem to be divided between truth and love. 
 All my soul cleaves to my old home, but inexorable laws of 
 reason and revelation stand over against me without shadow 
 of turning. Can this be illusion ? It seems to me that the 
 Holy Trinity, the Incarnation, the One mystical Body — the three 
 Unities are indivisible and eternal, and all three together. 
 I shall hear with great interest of your Visitation. You have 
 taken the two chief points of the Judgment, and they contain all 
 the rest. It is well that the judges defined what they declared 
 to be unlegal. Is not this the true statement of baptism ? — 
 
 1. That it unites the baptized to the Holy Trinity, to the 
 Father by adoption, to the Son by remission, to the Holy 
 Ghost by indwelling. 
 
 2. That the agent is the Holy Ghost, 
 
 3. That the three eifects are as inseparable as the three 
 Persons. 
 
 4. That the infusion of grace is the one principle which 
 brings also Adoption and Redemption. 
 
 5. That Regeneration comprehends the whole threefold idea. 
 
 If so, what does our dear friend Pusey mean by taking the 
 second efi"ect, and the Second Person 1 — Ever yours very affec- 
 tionately, H. E. M. 
 
 Lavington, J 5th June 1850. 
 
 My DEAR Robert — Many thanks for your letter, and the 
 report of your Charge : you seem to me to have done admirably. 
 
 ^ A letter from one of Archdeacon Manning's penitents expressing alarm at 
 the Gorham Judgment, and her desire to seek safety in the Church of Rome.
 
 XXVI THE DAY OF HESITATION 557 
 
 So far as I can gather, I go word by word, with you. And I 
 believe it to be the truth, against which nothing can prevail. 
 Your letter also moved me very much ; all the more, because 1 
 am suffering, except in one point, as you are. No, God helping 
 me, I will do nothing in heat, or in haste. So long as I find 
 those dear to me, as you arc, united in holding to the principles 
 of faith, and prei)ared, if need be, at last, without fail, to follow 
 them in their fulness, I am able to wait in peace. 
 
 It is, I must say in confidence, the course of Pusey and 
 Keble, which alarms me into pressing onward. They both seem 
 to me to have given up the Divine Tradition as the supreme 
 authority, and to apply private judgment to antiquity, as 
 Protestants do to Holy Scripture. . . . Nothing, I trust, will 
 call me from home again. I am worn in body by all this, and 
 am resting. Pray, if possible, dear Robert, come for a clear day 
 (done, and let us look at facts and books together. 
 
 And now, I seem to see a providential intention in all that 
 is befalling. Our past work, founded on passive, widespread 
 confidence in easy times, is gone, we are both mistrusted and 
 marked ; but I believe a greater weight is on us both. We are 
 identified with a great doctrine, and a great principle ; and all 
 we can give, is given to spread and deepen their hold on people. 
 Individuals in numbers are turning up, and coming to you and 
 to me. 
 
 We are fairly released from Protestantism, Rationalism, 
 Anglicanism, and the like. If unity is eA^er to be restored, and 
 the influx of the universal authority of faith again to support 
 truth, and the Church in England, we are making way for it. 
 Unknown to ourselves, we are thrust into a position which in 
 Tudor days would have been intermediate ; who knows, but that 
 in these it may be the condition of obtaining the object of our 
 daily prayers ? 
 
 All these things, and many more, soothe and stay me. 
 God guide us, my dear Robert. — Ever yours very affectionately, 
 
 H. E. M. 
 
 In the following letter Manning reaffirms what he had 
 affirmed already in 1849, that the Anglican position "is 
 a wreck and untenable at all points " ; and that " the 
 Church of England has no real basis " : — 
 
 Lavington, 25th June 1850. 
 
 My dear Robert — Your few words, sad as they are, really 
 strengthen me, for I am going through a trial which wears me 
 much.
 
 558 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 I have not seen Churton's Charge ; but the course he and 
 others have taken has helped more than most things to convince 
 me that the Church of England has no real basis. I know of 
 none between the spiritual light of the individual, or the 
 spiritual light of the body. Anglicanism seems to me to be 
 the latter in words, and the former in fact. Now I feel not 
 only in no haste, but to be moving more slowly ; but to be 
 moving always, surely, and without change, in one direction. 
 
 1. Logically, I am convinced that the One, Holy, Visible, 
 Infallible Church is that which has its circuit in all the world, 
 and its centre accidentally in Rome. 
 
 2. But I mistrust my conclusion. 
 
 (1) Because, though the form may be logical, the premisses 
 may be disputable matter. 
 
 (2) Because I fear to rest on intellectual convictions alone. 
 In some things I may have less repulsion than you, in others as 
 much, even more. But the end stands before me as truth and 
 destiny. And when I turn to our own position, I find it a 
 wreck, and untenable at all points. Not to go on would, to 
 me, be to go back into pure individual religion.^ 
 
 My desire is to movement, slowly, sifting, and justifying to 
 the highest minds. I scan the reasons of my convictions. And 
 my hope is to have your help, and comfort, always to turn to. 
 As for all our friends, they seem to me to have fallen asunder, 
 as a faggot unloosed. 
 
 Let me know when you come south. — Believe me, dear 
 Robert, yours very affectionately, H. E. M. 
 
 I have made a first draft on the Oath of Supremacy, in a 
 letter to my bishop. But I have written myself fairly over the 
 border — or Tiber rather. 
 
 " I am suffering much " — and such sufferings extort sym- 
 
 ^ I remember during this time of doubt that I gradually came to see that 
 there was no intermediate position between the Catholic Faith and an 
 undogmatic Pietism. The latter attracted me very much because of my love 
 for Leighton's sermons and his lesser works. His mind and life were always 
 most attractive to me. But I felt the illogical and untenable character of 
 such a position too sensibly to be really in danger of giving up dogmatic 
 religion. I could have rather rejected religion altogether than believe 
 revealed Truth to be without outline and certainty. I soon therefore moved 
 in the line of definite and certain doctrine. And this was greatly aided by 
 the Gorham Judgment. What I thought about this may be seen in a 
 pamphlet on T/w Appellate Jurisdiction of the Grown, addressed to the 
 Bishop of Chichester. The violation of the doctrine of Baptism was of less 
 gravity to me than the violation of the divine office of the Church by the 
 supremacy of the Crown in council. — Cardinal Manning's Journal, 1887.
 
 XXVI THE DAY OF HESITATION 559 
 
 pathy and admiration — is the burden of many of Manning's 
 letters to Eobert Wilberforce at tliis trying period : — 
 
 Lavington, 5th August 1850. 
 
 Dear Egbert — I am suffering much. I have no home 
 sorrows,^ as you ; but the Church of England has from me what, 
 if I had a home, would perhajjs be there. And I see nothing 
 before me. If I stay I shall end a simple mystic, like Leighton. 
 God is a spirit, and has no visible kingdom, chiu'ch, or sacra- 
 ments. Nothing will ever entangle me again in Protestantism, 
 Anglican or otherwise. 
 
 But that is to reject Christendom — its history and its witness 
 for God. 
 
 You will see from the enclosed that things seem near. — Ever 
 yours very affectionately, H. E. M. 
 
 Mr. Allies's work on the Papacy, clear, logical, and 
 learned, was not without its effect on Manning. The direct 
 and outspoken criticism of the Letter on the Appellate 
 Jurisdiction of the Crown may not have pleased him ; yet, 
 at such a moment, the repudiation by such a man as Mr. 
 Allies of Anglicanism must have struck home to Manning's 
 conscience. 
 
 Launton, fith September 1850. 
 
 My dear Archdeacon Manning — I have finished my book, 
 of which I hope you will see the results, such as they are, next 
 week. Tell me how the argument strikes you. It is the result 
 of seven long years of perplexity, in which I can safely say that 
 Anglicanism has never given me one thread of guidance or a 
 little finger of support. Now, I feel that I am passing from the 
 dead to the living — from her who would divide the child that 
 was not hers in half, to the true mother who yearns for her 
 offspring. I go, D. V., to Birmingham on Monday, to put myself 
 in the hands of J. H. N. 
 
 I was rather surprised to hear of Lord Feilding, but it has 
 cheered me up immensely. 
 
 I am quite unable to make out what is the practical drift 
 either of your pamphlet or your circular ; but if you have really 
 the faintest hope of Anglicanism it astonishes me. 
 
 But do not forget to give me your prayers, especially in this 
 last struggle. God has given me certainly the strongest, both 
 
 ^ The wife of Robert Wilberforce had grave apprehensions of her husband's 
 secession, and such fears aggravated the illness from which she had long suffered.
 
 560 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 intellectual and moral, conviction of the thorough dishonesty 
 and unreality of Anglicanism as a Church system ; and He has 
 turned, what long seemed an obstacle scarcely to be surmounted 
 on the side of Rome, into the most assured proof. I should dread 
 some great misfortune if I did not obey His calling. — Ever yours 
 affectionately, T. M. Allies. 
 
 The struggles of a sensitive and heroic soul are manifest 
 in the pathetic words with which the following letter con- 
 cludes. 
 
 KiPPiNGTON, I9th September 1850. 
 
 My dearest Robert — You have been much in my mind. I 
 do not know how to resist the conviction — 
 
 1. That the Church of England is in schism. 
 
 2. That it has therefore lost its power to preserve its own 
 internal unity of doctrine and discipline. 
 
 3. That it cannot define, judj^e, or pronounce with the authority 
 of the universal Church, while it is separate and in collision mth 
 the universal Church. 
 
 4. That the late events have not changed our position, but 
 revealed it, and that they who see it are bound to submit them- 
 selves to the universal Church. The utter weakness of all that 
 it set up against their conclusions turns into positive argument 
 in behalf of them. 
 
 Allies has just printed a mass of historical evidence which it 
 would be immoral to put aside. He has deformed his book by 
 a few things, Avhich will make such minds as our dear brother ^ 
 treat it unfairly. So truth suffers, and schisms are perpetrated. 
 My dear Robert, I feel as if my time Avere drawing near, and 
 that, like death, it will be, if it must be, alone. But I shrink 
 with all the love and fear of my soul. Pray for me. — Ever yours 
 most affectionately, H. E. M. 
 
 In answer to the expression of Robert Wilberforce's 
 apprehension of precipitancy, Manning wrote as follows : — 
 
 Most Private. ^^ Cadogan Place, ^Qth September 1850. 
 
 My DEAREST Robert — I have no thought of a hasty step. 
 All you say of the immoral effect of precipitation I feel, and will 
 be guided ])y you, for your sake and for my own. If I knew 
 that I should die this day six months I should speak as if life 
 were over and death near. This was the meaning of my last 
 letter. 
 
 * Samuel Wilberforce, Bishop of O.xford.
 
 XXVI THE DAY OF HESITATION 561 
 
 The state of my mind is a settled conviction that it must end 
 in only one way. I feel that the Church of England, by every 
 principle of Scripture, tradition, and history, is a human societj-, 
 more ecclesiastical and medieval than the Kirk, but equally 
 separate from the universal Church. This conviction groAvs on 
 me continually, harmonising all phenomena of our state. I seem 
 therefore to have no doubt how it must end. But six months 
 would still be soon in such a death. 
 
 Now, dear Eobert, advise me. I have thought of going 
 abroad for the winter, as a means of withdrawing from collision, 
 and from embarrassing others. Gladstone's going, and the Eng- 
 lish winter would be reason ad exteros. 
 
 It would give me time for last reflections and dying thoughts, 
 and a locns pcniicntia;, if, " which God avert," I be deluded. 
 
 Tell me how this seems to you. 
 
 I have heard from our dearest Henry. He writes calmly, 
 and, I believe, his mind and character will be confirmed and 
 raised by what he has done. Dearest Robert, to be parted from 
 you would be one of my keenest trials ; may it never be, and, 
 I believe, it cannot. Surely Ave want faith, and do not trust 
 ourselves enough to the kingdom which is not of this world. I 
 seem to see how we are called to suffer for faith, and for the 
 elect's sake. We have spoken for truth, and written for truth ; 
 we must now act for truth, and bear for the truth. Nothing 
 but the suffering of the many can save the Church of England 
 from running down the inclined plane of all separate bodies. It 
 is for it that we are testifying, though it wall not see or know 
 it. Newman's going has preserved life. — Ever yours most affec- 
 tionately, H. E. M. 
 
 Lavington, I4:th October 1850. 
 
 My dear Robert — . . . Give me now your kind advice ; 
 for myself I think I am fully decided to go abroad. 
 
 But can I do so without resigning ■? 
 
 Does not public honour require it ? 
 
 Resigning does not compel going further. But can I hold 
 office of trust and emoluments without clashing with upright- 
 ness ? 
 
 Let me hear from you. I have no letters worth sending 
 from Henry. He is still at Malines. — Ever yours very affec- 
 tionately, H. E. M. 
 
 The " cruel imputations," which Manning speaks of in 
 the following letter, cast on " liis honesty and honour," may 
 perhaps be accounted for in some measure by the different 
 
 VOL. I 2
 
 562 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 statements as to his religious opinions which he had made 
 to different persons on various occasions. Long ago he had 
 acknowledged to Robert Wilberforce the loss of all faith in 
 the English Church ; but, on the other hand, he had felt it 
 his duty to declare to his penitents, almost up to the date 
 of this letter, that they might abide in grace and safety in 
 the Church of England : — 
 
 Lavington, Feast of SS. Simon and Jiide, 
 1 8th October 1850. 
 
 My dearest Egbert — I hope my letter did not add to your 
 distress. 
 
 Unless some new and peremptory reason should arise, I will 
 do as you desire. God grant that nothing may part us. It 
 would be to me a great and lasting sorrow, and unspeakably 
 increase the fear and anxiety with which I weigh the thoughts 
 of our present trial. The pain I have to bear, which you have 
 not equally, is the cruel imputations upon honesty and honour. 
 These wound me. They could not move me if I were not con- 
 scious that I have no hope for the Church of England. I not 
 only believe that nothing will be done, but that nothing can. 
 The fault seems to me to be in the original position ; suppose 
 the Eoyal Supremacy reduced to our limits, and the Church of 
 England empowered to judge, and declare finally in matter of 
 faith : the Thirty-nine Articles declare local Churches to be fallible, 
 and the English Church is not only fallible, but irreconcilably 
 divided in doctrines of faith, e.g. Regeneration, the Real Presence, 
 Sacrifice, Priesthood, the Church. 
 
 This seems to me to reduce us to the necessity and to the 
 duty of acknowledging our original position to be false and 
 wrong. But this acknowledgment who will make 1 Even 
 Pusey's tone is otherwise. 
 
 I do not feel what you say of condemning a Church which 
 has such men as Keble in it. I must condemn it, whosoever be 
 in it. 
 
 Postscript. — Do you see the line of the Guardian in the first 
 leading article ? It is di'eary and deadly work. Insular Angli- 
 canism and partisan movement seem to be their highest aim. 
 Let me hear from you what you did yesterday. I had a few 
 words Avith Keble. I said, "I fear we differ in this. I might 
 feel myself bound to submit to the Roman Church ; you would 
 not." He said, "I could not. I could not say my prayers there." 
 Does he mean that Rome is the synagogue of Satan ? for that is
 
 XXVI THE DAY OF HESITATION 563 
 
 the only place in which I should think we could not pray. Does 
 he not believe our " fallen sister " to be a part of the Temple of 
 God 1 And if so, does he believe that Rome has erred in matters 
 de fide? And would anything less sustain his words 1 I mused 
 over your strange medley yesterday. I suppose yon had at least 
 three elements which will never hold together. — Ever your very 
 affectionate H. E. M. 
 
 William Dodsworth, Manning's most watchful friend, 
 never lost an opportunity of pointing the way, as the 
 following letter shows : — 
 
 Freshwater, lltli August 1850. 
 
 My dearest Friend — A letter from H. W. W., in Belgium, 
 plainly indicates that his wife has joined the Roman Catholic 
 Church. But he seems to assume that I know the particulars — 
 which I do not — perhaps some letter of his may have missed. 
 
 I am impatient to know all about it. So ask you without 
 waiting for another letter from him. It seems also plain to me 
 that he will never get out of Belgium without following her 
 steps. 
 
 I fear that my letter to you from London was crude and 
 abrupt, and then you infer that I am impetuous and thoughtless. 
 
 But, dearest f rfend, I write to you as I would speak, careless of 
 style, etc., so you must allow for this ; and you know it is my 
 habit, bad or good, to come to the point without circumlocution. 
 
 The more I think, the more I feel that our position is an 
 impossible one. 
 
 The Articles we have subscribed, or continue subscription, 
 substantially on the ground of their comprehensiveness or in- 
 definiteness on the theory of Tract 90, or some kindred one. 
 But when we come to think of what subscription is, and the 
 nature of those truths Avhich are dealt with, is it defensible so to 
 deal with such truths — is it enough to say only, we doiit deny 
 the Real Presence — the guidance of the Holy Spirit, the Cliurch 
 Catholic 1 Are we not doing our part to make Christian verities 
 " open questions " ? — Ever your most affectionate, 
 
 "William Dodsworth. 
 
 In another letter Dodsworth writes as follows : — 
 
 I really cannot subscribe these Articles again. Pray tell me, 
 now that you know so much of my mind, whether you think 
 that I ought to communicate any more in the Cliurch of 
 England. Is not the actual institution of Gorham a decisive 
 point ? Gladstone seemed to think it so.
 
 564 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 Your letter, dearest friend, is like yourself, ever loving and 
 faithful — the proof of a friendship which it is one of the great 
 responsibilities of my life to enjoy. 
 
 I Avill think of all you say ; with you I am not afraid of being 
 misunderstood, and, I will say, that my heart does not upbraid 
 me with an unkindly feeling towards any human being. 
 
 But it seems to me that we have come upon times when we 
 must take a stern view of men's acts — even the humblest and 
 lowest of us. Is it not a crisis in which our Lord's truth is in 
 jeopardy ? 
 
 But with no affectation of humility, I can easily believe that 
 I have been wanting. — Yours most affectionately, 
 
 WiLLIAil DODSWORTH. 
 
 I am more and more impressed with the conviction that I must 
 soon act. 
 
 In the following letter of 22nd October, nearly eight 
 months after the Gorham Judgment, Manning makes an 
 explicit profession of faith in the Church of Eome as 
 infallible through the guidance of the Holy Spirit, and 
 expresses his deep conviction that the Church of England 
 is not under that guidance : — 
 
 Lavington, 22nd October 1850. 
 
 My DEAR Robert — The Yorkshire Church Union \n\\, I 
 fear, bring you into difficulties. 
 
 You were of course absent when they passed their resolution 
 about Romanism ; and you will, I am afraid, be dragged into a 
 false position. 
 
 Many thanks for your words about myself ; since I got them, 
 a letter from our dear brother, the bishop, has brought me all 
 but to the point. 
 
 I fain would hold on for many reasons ; but I feel to be in a 
 false position. 
 
 I am not afraid of seeming to fly from a storm. No one 
 worth thinking of would think so, and multitudes, very well 
 worth thinking of, think me all but dishonest. Public honour 
 is essential to character and usefulness ; and I feel sure that my 
 work in the Church of England is over, I hinder more than I 
 help. I cannot now carry on this Supremacy move in the only 
 way in which others will. Unless a man can say what Pusey 
 said to my wonder last week, I feel convinced he can do nothing 
 for the Church of England, or rather in it. 
 
 But all this is by the way. The true and overruling reason
 
 XXVI THE DAY OF HESITATION 565 
 
 is that I am so deeply convinced that the Church is infallible 
 through the guidance of the Holy Spirit, and that the Church of 
 England is not under that guidance, as to leave me day by day 
 less choice. I will try to put shortly what I mean : 
 
 1. The present state of the Church of England is a proof to 
 me that a local church in a state of separation from the universal 
 Church, cannot declare or preserve the Faith. 
 
 2. For 300 years we have been in a position which, whether 
 now changed or revealed, is no longer tenable on any laws of the 
 Church of Christ. 
 
 3. I believe it is a revelation of a position untenable 
 ai) initio. 
 
 4. For this Eoyal Supremacy is in principle as old as Henry 
 the VIII. Gladstone's view is to me a clever theory. But all 
 facts and histories are against it. Goode is right, I believe, to 
 the letter. The Crown is supreme judge. 
 
 (2) The authority of the living and universal Church has 
 been shut out for 300 years ; we have fallen into a functional 
 impotence, and the local Church has not, neither can have, any 
 other guide or support. 
 
 (3) Be our paper doctrines what they may, we have had 
 contradictory bishops, priests, and people, for 300 years on 
 baptism, the real presence, the sacrifice, absolution, succession, 
 priesthood, rule of faith, the very constitution, and authority 
 and identity of the Church. All this is 300 years old, this is no 
 change. It may be an aggravation, but no more. 
 
 Now, I confess that I feel that nothing short of the re- 
 entrance of this authority of the living Church universal can 
 restore the functions of the Church of England. We are in 
 material heresy and that throws light on our separation, and I 
 believe we are in schism. With this feeling, growing daily with 
 a conscious variance of reason, faith, and conscience, against the 
 Eoyal Supremacy as in our oath and subscription, and against 
 the anti- Roman articles, I feel driven to believe that I can 
 delay no longer without violation of truth towards God and 
 man. Do, dearest Robert, weigh this more gravely. Do not 
 argue of expediencies and effects, but look at the facts of the 
 case. Take your own view of the Article against Transubstanti- 
 ation. You do not condemn the truth. All the world does, 
 and believes you do, so long as you continue under subscription. 
 
 My own impression is that, when this Committee has taken 
 its public place, I shall sink to the bottom and disappear. 
 
 I am full of dread lest the truth of conscience should be 
 lost by waiting and listening to the suggestions of flesh and 
 blood.
 
 566 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 May the Divine Spirit guide us in this hour of trial, that we 
 may be true to Him and His inspirations. — Believe me, ever very 
 affectionately yours, H. E. M. 
 
 It was, indeed, " an hour of trial " : not a trial of faith, 
 for Manning's belief in the English Church had broken 
 down even before the Gorham Judgment. Even before the 
 Gorhani Judgment he had clearly and without reserve 
 declared his faith in the Catholic Church. His letters to 
 Eobert Wilberforce testify this. All that was wanting was 
 the final act of submission. What is still keeping him 
 back ? What had kept him back so long ? Human motives : 
 old habits of mind, fear of taking an irrevocable step : a 
 fear which he likened to the fear of death : old ties and 
 associations. Well might he have cried aloud to Eobert 
 Wilberforce that he was " full of dread lest the truth of 
 conscience should be lost by waiting and listening to the 
 suggestions of flesh and blood." 
 
 It was a noble confession : a foretoken of what was to 
 come ; at the same time it bore witness to the bitterness 
 to flesh and blood of the struggle he was going through in 
 the silent recesses of his heart. 
 
 For it must be borne in mind that what was known from 
 intimate correspondence to Eobert Wilberforce, to James 
 Hope, to William Dodsworth, and to Henry Wilberforce, as 
 to Manning's state of mind in regard to the English Church 
 and to the Church of Eome, was known to no one else. It 
 was known, indeed, to all the world that Manning in his 
 Letter to the Bishop of Chichester had repudiated the 
 Gorham Judgment : had rejected the Eoyal Supremacy in 
 things spiritual. But so had Pusey, and Keble, and Eobert 
 Wilberforce ; and so had Archdeacon Denison more loudly 
 and vehemently than any of his cosignatories to the famous 
 Declaration ; and Archdeacon Thorp, and Mill, and Bennett 
 of St. Paul's, Knightsbridge. They were all alike in the 
 same boat ; and the most silent of them all, perhaps, was 
 Manning. As long as he might keep silent he felt safe. 
 
 But the time for speaking had for him at last arrived. 
 A storm had arisen from which he dared not fly. Manning 
 felt very keenly what he expressed in his letter to Eobert
 
 XXVI THE DAY OF HESITATION 567 
 
 Wilberforce, that " multitudes, very well worth thinking of, 
 think me all but dishonest." Dishonest on account of his 
 strange and prolonged silence. For, since the Gorham 
 Judgment, spring had passed away and summer ; autumn 
 had come; and yet Archdeacon Manning made no sign. 
 What did it mean ? Strange rumours were abroad. 
 Many hoped, and some few feared, that an open door had 
 been found : a way of escape discovered for Manning. 
 
 Mr. Gladstone, in the view of retaining his friend in the 
 English Church, had from time to time endeavoured to induce 
 Bishop Wilberforce to obtain from a majority of the bishops, 
 after the promulgation of the Gorham Judgment, a declara- 
 tion that they would uphold the doctrine of the Church as 
 to baptism ; even though such a declaration would not have 
 been of the nature of a corporate action, yet he believed 
 such a step would have held secure to the Church not only 
 Archdeacon Manning, but many others, who, like him, were 
 longing for some authoritative declaration. 
 
 All these attempts, however, proved abortive. In a 
 letter, dated 5th September 1850, to Bishop Wilberforce, 
 Mr. Gladstone states, that from the conversations which 
 had taken place, and the letters which had passed between 
 Archdeacon Manning and himself, an impression was created 
 in his mind that up to the Gorham Judgment the Arch- 
 deacon was convinced of the authority of the Church, and 
 believed in her mission, though he could not disguise from 
 himself that there were things in the Koman Church which 
 he preferred. Mr. Gladstone, therefore, attributed the decided 
 attitude of Archdeacon Manning as the result of the refusal 
 of the bishops to issue a declaration that the Gorham 
 Judgment was neither the law nor the faith of the Church 
 of England. 
 
 Samuel Wilberforce, the Bishop of Oxford, who did not 
 quite relish Mr. Gladstone's attributing Manning's attitude to 
 the pusillanimous conduct of the bishops in abstaining, on 
 one plea or another, from a public defence of an article of 
 the Creed, sought to show in the following letter to Mr. 
 Gladstone, that Manning's loss was to be imputed to other 
 causes : —
 
 568 CARDINAL ilANNlNG chap. 
 
 Lavington, 14^/!. September 1850. 
 
 ]My dear Gladstone — My stay here has let me see much of 
 Maiming. Never has he been so affectionate, so open, so fully 
 trusting with me. We have been together through all his 
 difficulties. But, alas ! it has left on my mind the full con- 
 viction that he is lost to us. It is, as you say, the background 
 of historical inquiry where our paths part. He seems to me to 
 have followed singly, exactly the course which the Roman Church 
 has followed as a body. He has gone back into those early 
 times, when, what afterwards became their corruptions, were only 
 the germ-buds of Catholic usages ; he has fully accustomed his 
 mind to them, until a system that wants them seems to him 
 incomplete and uncatholic, and one that has them is the wiser 
 and holier, and more catholic for having them, until he can 
 excuse to a great degree their practical corruptions, and justify 
 altogether their doctrinal rightness. All this has been stirred 
 up and rendered practical in his mind by our own troubles ; but 
 the result of all leaves me very hopeless of the issue. Few 
 can understand what his and my brother's present state is. I 
 believe you can ; the broken sleep, the heavy waking before 
 the sorrow has shaped itself with returning consciousness into a 
 definite form ; the vast and spreading dimensions of the fear for 
 others which it excites, the clouding over of all the future. — 
 Yours affectionately, S. OxON. 
 
 Through no fault of his own, indeed, Mr. Gladstone was 
 mistaken or misinformed as to the real state of Manning's 
 religious opinions ; not knowing that for years before the 
 Gorham Judgment, he had doubted or disbelieved in the 
 divine authority and mission of the English Church, as his 
 letters to Robert Wilberforce, and in a lesser degree to 
 Laprimaudaye, his confessor, show. But these letters Mr. 
 Gladstone had not seen : he knew nothing, consequently, of 
 Manning's repudiation of Anglicanism as a religious system : 
 as a theology : as a church. In his letters to Mr. Gladstone, 
 contemporary with those to Robert Wilberforce, Manning 
 did not feel called upon to make like confessions. There 
 were two sides to the shield — one, the inner or private ; the 
 other, the outer or public side. One side, for good and 
 sufficient reasons, as I have already shown, was turned to 
 Robert Wilberforce ; the other, to Mr. Gladstone. Hence 
 his mistaken impression that Manning made shipwreck, as
 
 XXVI THE DAY OF HESITATION 569 
 
 he would say, of his faith iu the Church of England on 
 the rock of the Gorham Judgment. 
 
 On learning, in January last,^ the substance of Manning's 
 letters to liobert Wilberforce, Mr, Gladstone was surprised 
 beyond measure. Speaking with evident pain, he said — 
 
 To mc this is most startling information, for which I am quite 
 unprepared. In all our correspondence and conversations, during 
 an intimacy which extended over many years, Manning never 
 once led me to believe that he had doubts as to the position or 
 divine authority of the English Church, far less that he had lost 
 faith altogether in Anglicanism. That is to say up to the 
 Gorham Judgment. The Gorham Judgment, I knew, shook his 
 faith in the Church of England. It was then that Manning ex- 
 pressed to me — and for the first time — his doubts and misgivings. 
 
 After a few moments' reflection Mr. Gladstone added — 
 " I won't say Manning was insincere, God forbid ! But he 
 was not simple and straightforward, as, for instance, Robert 
 Wilberforce, the most simple and candid of men." 
 
 Manning's Anglican correspondence with Mr. Gladstone 
 was even more copious than with Eobert Wilberforce, for it 
 extended over a longer period. These letters of Manning's 
 Mr. Gladstone has always regarded as of the highest value 
 and importance. He repeated once more, a month or two 
 ago, what he had often said before : — 
 
 Over a long period, every subject of vital interest affecting 
 the Church of England was discussed by Manning with masterly 
 ability and foresight. His letters were a striking record of every 
 movement in the Church of England during a most trying 
 period, especially since Newman's secession. 
 
 On learning that Manning's Anglican letters were no 
 longer forthcoming ; had, as far as could be ascertained, 
 been destroyed by the Cardinal not long before his death, 
 Mr. Gladstone was greatly pained, and exclaimed — 
 
 Had I dreamt that Manning would have destroyed those 
 letters I would never have returned them to him. They have 
 left a lasting impression on my mind. Neither in those letters 
 nor in conversation did Manning ever convey to me an intima- 
 
 1 In a letter, dated 12th Dec. 1894, Mr. Gladstone wrote :—" On the 
 question of Manning's views of the Anglican Church before the Gorham 
 Judgment, I can give you most pertinent and strong oral evidence."
 
 570 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 tion or even a hint that he had lost faith in the English Church. 
 On the contrary, I remember as if it were yesterday a remark- 
 able conversation I had with him in the summer of 1848, just 
 after his return from Eome. We were walking together through 
 St. James's Park, talking on serious subjects ; indeed [added 
 ;Mr. Gladstone with a laugh], our conversations always were 
 serious. But on this occasion, referring to his illness of the 
 previous year. Manning said, in the most solemn manner, " Dying 
 men, or men Avithin the shadow of death, as I was last year, 
 have a clearer insight into things unseen of others ; a deeper 
 knowledge of all that relates to divine faith. In such a com- 
 munion with death and the region beyond death, I had an 
 absolute assurance in heart and soul, solemn beyond expression, 
 that the English Church — I am not speaking of the Establish- 
 ment — is a living portion of the Church of Christ." 
 
 Mr. Gladstone then added — 
 
 A year or two afterwards, I think, yes, in 1850, after the 
 Gorham Judgment, I recalled this conversation to Manning's 
 mind in a letter,^ which I am convinced will bear out my present 
 statement. In reply to points which I urged. Manning gave an 
 evasive answer ; and, indeed, called in question the facts of the 
 conversation. But [Mr. Gladstone exclaimed with all his wonted 
 energy] I could take an oath in a court of law as to the sub- 
 stantial facts of his conversation with me in 1848. 
 
 Indeed, up to the Gorham case, there are no indications 
 in Mr. Gladstone's letters that to him Manning had made 
 such revelations of his inner mind in regard to the Church 
 of England as he had made to Eobert Wilberforce. 
 
 In those crucial months of the autumn of 1850 follow- 
 ing on the Gorham Judgment, when in Manning's mind 
 the fateful decision was still hanging in the balance, no 
 effort was wanting to incline the scale in favour of the 
 Church of England. Prompted by conviction as well as 
 by personal affection for Manning, Mr. Gladstone, as the 
 following letters show, brought the strongest arguments in 
 his power to influence or restrain liis friend : — 
 
 Fasque, 8th Sejitemher 1850. 
 My dear Manning — The pains which come in the way of 
 
 ^ See Mr. Gladstone's letter to Archdeacon Manning, dated Genoa, 5tli 
 November 1850, p. 580.
 
 XXVI THE DAY OF HESITATION 571 
 
 God's ordinary dispensations are light compared with those 
 which belong to the religious convulsion of the present time. 
 If Hesh writhes under the former, at least faith is not perplexed, 
 but feels that her appointed work is passing and taking effect 
 upon her. But in the changes which I see taking place on every 
 side of me, both in the Church of England and in those who 
 deplore her changes, there is no such consolation. The grief 
 for the loss of children has a natural vent in tears ; but tears do 
 not come, and would not be adequate if they did, for the laying 
 waste of the heritage of God. The promise indeed stands sure 
 to the Church and to the elect. In the farthest distance there 
 is peace, truth, glory ; but what a leap to it, over what a gulf. 
 You see nearer comfort ; you have the advantage of me, if you 
 are right and see truly. 
 
 In the grounds are materials of judgment ; neither in- 
 tellectually nor morally can I compete with you. As to the 
 last let me not go beyond those words of to-day's Psalms, which 
 are given for our use, and may be used, therefore, without 
 affectation : " My wickednesses are gone over my head, and are 
 like a sore burden too heavy for me to bear." As to the first, 
 I follow you from letter to letter with amazement. I know 
 not indeed how far your thoughts are tentative, how far they 
 are entire expressions of your mind ; but while each letter is in 
 itself a polished whole, and would defy greater skill than mine 
 to undo, taken as a series they are not fixed, nor consistent, nor 
 consecutive. Your last especially passes quite beyond my power 
 to follow. I am wholly unable to conceive how the theory of 
 the Church and its unity, that is now before you, can stand 
 application to the times of schism in the Eoman Church itself, 
 when both parties had the intention of union with the Chair of 
 St. Peter, but were in fact divided, and one of them, therefore, 
 is smitten by your doctrine, though both are recognised as 
 Catholic by the Roman Church. The Branch Church theory is 
 hers ; only she makes a more limited application of it. To my 
 eye the reasoning of your letter seems so far from your former 
 self, to say no more, that it leaves me in doubt and perplexity 
 as to its real purport, and extorts from me by force the question, 
 whether your intellect is for the moment in the class of those, of 
 which the extreme power and facility, and their satisfaction, 
 unconscious, often yet a great reality, in their own vivid play, 
 become snares to the possessor, and seduce him from fixity by 
 the smoothness and ease they show in movement. But if you 
 are deceived, you will need some other and worthier one to 
 undeceive you. I am suspicious and afraid of the disposition 
 you state, to follow in the path of relations whose sanctity you
 
 572 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 venerate, for surely, though personal sanctity may give us every 
 comfort respecting the person so blessed, it does not make such 
 person a guide for others in the changes they may make, and to 
 view them so is unsafe and unsound in principle : but I would 
 readily admit and feel, that modesty at least should be with 
 those who have no such titles written upon them, that the 
 freedom I use as friend with friend ill suits me (it is really so ; 
 te propter eundem amissus pudor), and that I am fitter to be mute 
 at least for a time in the presence of such deep problems and 
 such crushing sorrows as seem to be coming on us. — Ever your 
 affectionate friend, AV. E. Gladstone. 
 
 Fasque, 22nd September 1850. 
 
 My DEAR Manning — Your letters are all safe and accessible. 
 I am a great letter -keeper, but however eclectic I might be, 
 yours would have escaped the fire. 
 
 I am not grave and deliberate in word, and there is a proof of 
 it in the terms you quote ; it was enough for me to say " neither 
 fixed nor consecutive," and "nor consistent" is surplusage, but 
 svurplusage in such matters shows the want of gravity. It will 
 probably prove that the want of consistency, which there must 
 be in what is neither fixed nor consecutive, lies in my inferences 
 and constructions of your letters. I will at any rate explain 
 what I meant ; the explanation cannot make it more harsh or 
 presumptuous, and may make it less. 
 
 I had letters from you in London, one in particular, which 
 seemed to demonstrate your conviction that if there were a body 
 within the pale of the Church of England ready to fight there 
 the great battle now beginning for the faith of Christendom and 
 its reunion in the profession of that faith, your lot would be 
 cast with them ; and all you might do or project would be upon 
 and from that basis. 
 
 But the letter, to which in my last I was replying, would 
 have given, I thought, the impression that you had come to the 
 negative of the great practical proposition which you had before 
 affirmed. 
 
 Not because of its mere words in their positive sense ; for 
 that I can understand its being said " I have no longer power or 
 faith to work on a basis of separation " by men convinced under 
 the teaching of the present circumstances, that the unity of the 
 visible Church ought henceforward to be the all-absorbing aim 
 of their labours, and yet having the same conviction as to the 
 scene of those labours appointed them by the will of God that 
 you had expressed in the former letters. But it was by putting 
 together the general tone of the letter with its affirmations, and
 
 XXVI THE DAY OF HESITATION 573 
 
 with the thought of what it did not affirm, that I came to read 
 it as an undoing and breaking up of" your former ground of life 
 and action. 
 
 Nothing more easily than grief makes a disposition, neither 
 chastened nor balanced as it should be, fly out and become 
 utterly unreasonable. I daresay that was my case. 
 
 Only one consideration led me to write as I did — the con- 
 sideration, namely, of one point in the discipline life has given 
 me, and one only, that can ever be of use to you. My life has, 
 I know and feel, had this tendency, to lay a heavy weight upon 
 the movement of the understanding when solicited to depart from 
 the main practical principles by which it has been anchored, and 
 to make the movements of all such processes exceedingly slow ; 
 I mean the common discii^line of my life ; that which has come 
 upon my understanding only, and affects only its habits, and 
 which comes in through common acts, apart from disturbing 
 causes such as those that join themselves to all questions deeply 
 piercing into our moral being. 
 
 Lagging behind you as, whenever I read your letters, I 
 always feel myself to do, on this occasion for the first time it 
 occurred to me, not because of the apparent interval between 
 you and me, but between you and your former yet recent self, 
 can it be that the shock of these awful times, having driven him 
 upon the problems that oppress other men, his trenchant intellect 
 has formed for him too sharp and short a way through them ? 
 
 The vice I meant to suggest was strictly and wholly in that 
 region ; and what it was I hope I have now made clearer. I am 
 anxious to purge the offence away, not from your mind, for I 
 am certain it did not arrive there, but as it is in itself. 
 
 Hope is here, and I have felt the privilege of talking with 
 him, but only to lament the more that my departure 
 to-morrow cuts me off from the means of talking through, 
 instead of merely upon, the great subject. I look forward 
 anxiously to seeing you, but with a similar anticipation — weeks 
 at least of continuous exercise seem necessary, besides every 
 [thing] else of a higher nature that is more necessary, to give 
 the least hope of a conscious grasp either of the true idea or of 
 the right course, nor do I believe that events are yet ripe for 
 more than to give light a little beyond the actual point at which 
 we stand. But to the questions — first, can peace be permanently 
 kept with the now dominant system in the Church of England, 
 namely, will that system be cured by remedies such as any of 
 its bishops may devise, and such as the State will permit to be 
 administered 1 — I fail to find any answer but in the negative. — I 
 remain always your affectionate friend, W. E. Gladstone.
 
 574 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 You do not require to give me assurances of your self- 
 mistrust. By the way in which you ever bear with me, I can 
 well judge what it must be towards others, and in itself 
 generally. 
 
 6 Carlton Gardens, Gth October 1850. 
 
 My DEAR Manning — Mrs. Glynne is dead. As nearly as 
 possible at the moment when we parted, she was called from 
 a dark world, perhaps never darker than now in its prospects, 
 to the rest and felicity into which few indeed could make an 
 easier passage. 
 
 When you were here, I had not brought my letters into 
 order : and I am sorry to find that I failed to place some of 
 yours in your hands, I am not sure which, but I think they may 
 have been those which related to your Letter to the Bishop of 
 Chichester. 
 
 In looking back upon our conversation, much occurs and 
 recurs ; it is not now as it was ; a jar ran through it, the latent 
 idea on my part that you were unjust in your modes of judgment 
 to the Church of England, and on yours, perhaps, that I am 
 lagging behind the truth. There is however only one point on 
 which I wish to say a word, for it is practically I think very 
 important, and shall be briefly handled. 
 
 I said the " Church and realm " was not bound to the 
 Judicial Committee and the Gorham Judgment ; that the Church 
 had not received the same. You said, yes, it had accepted the 
 " discipline," the judicial system as established by the Statute of 
 Appeals. The point therefore is this, whether the Judicial 
 Committee be within the Statute of Appeals. But which of 
 the two, its letter or its spirit 1 I say that within the letter of 
 our statutes, and of our constitution, every fraud, every falsehood, 
 every absurdity, may be found to lie. That it is in the spirit 
 the constitutional interest of that statute, I emphatically deny. 
 If you ask me for proof, I cannot find it in the practice under it : 
 since no case of heresy has ever been tried through under its 
 provisions. But surely nothing can be more complete as a 
 proof of its sjnrit than the contemporaneous provision of the 
 reformatio legum, which said if a grave case arose, it was to be 
 tried by a Provincial Council. Therefore the Judicial Committee 
 being a secular tribunal, wholly foreign to the order of the 
 Church, is at variance with the spirit of the statute, and the 
 Church which has accepted the statute has not accepted the 
 Judicial Committee. The acts of the third and fourth William 
 are no more morally than they are chronologically within reach of 
 the canon of submission. That they stand in a certain relation 
 in which the cfyQopd of a thing always stands to the thing,
 
 XXVI THE DAY OF HESITATION 575 
 
 beginning from the nature of the thing itself, and by an undue 
 preponderance commonly of some among its elements. 
 
 This is to supply a gap which I ought to have filled when we 
 were together. Pray remember the other matter which was 
 named as we were going to part. And believe me always, your 
 affectionate friend, W. E. Gladstone. 
 
 Hawarden, I'Sth October 1850. 
 
 My dear Manning — The word at parting to which I made in 
 my last letter an indistinct allusion, was my request to you that 
 you would carefully consider and let me know in course of time 
 your thoughts upon the question, what are the obligations of the 
 individual priest or layman, in the Church of England, to any 
 such bishops of her communion as may set themselves resolutely 
 to contend for the Catholic faith in the article in which it is now 
 assailed, and in that principle of its delivery, in which all its 
 articles alike are struck at with one blow ? 
 
 The only impatience that I recollect in our conversation was 
 that of mine, which led me in a particular point to mistake your 
 course of reasoning, and for which I expressed my regret, but on 
 your side there was nothing. And of course if I speak of 
 injustice to the Church of England, I do not mean intended 
 injustice ; but we have no word for that kind of act between 
 bare injury and injustice, which is hurt done that ought not to be 
 done, yet without the thought of doing anything but right. That 
 is the question I raised, and that is what seems to me to be done 
 when a surrender of power which I know to have a certain sense 
 in the political sphere is interpreted, in its relation to the 
 Church of England and her dealings within that sphere, in a 
 sense quite different, through which sense I think it is that you 
 get at, a condemnation, so broad as yours, of the Tudor clergy. 
 But if you tell me "it may be as sons are sometimes for very 
 grief more plain to their parents than strangers," you stop my 
 mouth and take away my will to push the subject : your 
 recognition of that relation answers me ; I cannot take you to 
 task about what you may do it in, for indeed it is little short of 
 ludicrous to see me schooling you on such matters. — Ever your 
 affectionate friend, W. E. Gladstone. 
 
 In the meantime, whilst these attempts by Bishop 
 Wilberforce, Archdeacon Harrison, Mr. Gladstone, and 
 many others, to patch up matters were going on, an event 
 happened which brought things to a crisis. What the 
 condemnation of Tract 90 : what Newman's conversion
 
 57G CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 and Oakeley's and AVard's and Dalgairns' and Faber's : 
 what the appointment of Dr. Hampden : the Erastian com- 
 pact with Prussia about the Jerusalem bishopric, had not 
 effected ; what not even the Gorham Judgment, howsoever 
 deeply it troubled his soul, had, at any rate not as yet, 
 accomplished, was effected by " circumstance " ; not an un- 
 spiritual god, but in this case a divine minister of grace. 
 The Papal Bull, " given at St. Peter's, Eome, under the seal 
 of the fisherman," restoring the Catholic Hierarchy in Eng- 
 land, and Wiseman's Letter dated " From the Elaminian 
 Gate," fell like a bolt from the blue. For, on the sudden. 
 Lord John Eussell, in liis notorious Durham letter, raised 
 not only a " No Popery " cry throughout the length and 
 breadth of the land, but with maUgnant purpose directed 
 Ultra - Protestant suspicions and jealousies against the 
 Tractarian Party. What Protestantism had most to fear 
 and guard against was not the audacious assaults of 
 " Popery " ; but " the danger within the gates from the 
 unworthy sons of the Church herself" The madness spread 
 like wildfire. It affected all sorts and conditions of men, 
 from the Prime Minister and the Lord Chancellor down to 
 the street-boy, who chalked up " No Popery " on the walls.^ 
 There was a braying of donkeys, for verily it was little else, 
 from John O'Groat's to Land's End. There was a flutter in 
 the dovecotes, a flutter of voices and of petticoats, from the 
 duchess in her drawing-room to the dairjrmaid at the cow's 
 udder. The milk of human kindness in that day of 
 fanaticism was turned sour in too many an English breast. 
 Not only light-hearted young stockbrokers, but grave and 
 bald-headed bankers, and brewers, and business men, made 
 fools of themselves on Guy Fawkes' Day 1850, shouting 
 like wild Indians, and dancing like chimney-sweeps on May 
 Day round the effigy of Cardinal Wiseman in front of the 
 Eoyal Exchange. Our generation, rubbing its eyes, marvels 
 much at such a strange outbreak of fanaticism, not merely 
 on the part of ministers of religion, or of politicians with 
 an eye to business, but of otherwise sedate and sober men. 
 
 ^ Punch had a caricature of Lord Johu Russell, as a street-boy, chalking up 
 " No Popery " on the wall, then running away.
 
 XXVI THE DAY OF HESITATION 577 
 
 The nation for a time went out of its wits ; and you cannot 
 put, as Lamartine, I think, said of France during the Eeign 
 of Terror, a whole people into a strait jacket. 
 
 In that day of excitement, of fierce and furious fanaticism 
 and rampant bigotry, to steer a middle course was impossible 
 for the most judicious of men or of archdeacons. There was 
 a broad line of demarcation drawn between Protestants and 
 " Papists " ; and Puseyites were just as much " Papists " in 
 the popular eye as Catholics themselves, or worse ; for they 
 were denounced as wolves in sheep's clothing. Whoso did 
 not shout with the shouting crowd was a Eomaniser in dis- 
 guise. There was no middle path, no halfway-house, not 
 even at Lavington. 
 
 How "the peril and the crisis," as he described the 
 effects of the Gorham Judgment, affected Manning is best 
 disclosed in letters, in which, without fear or restraint, he 
 lays bare his heart, and speaks of his plans and intentions 
 in the immediate future. In writing to a friend so trusted 
 and sympathetic as Robert Wilberforce, as trials thickened 
 about him Manning almost unconsciously revealed the 
 motives which conduced one by one, and with accumulated 
 force, to these final acts in the drama of his life : — 
 
 Lavington, Ith November 1850. 
 
 My dear Robert — . . . My object in writing is to ask 
 your prompt advice on an urgent difficulty this moment arisen. 
 
 I have two requisitions to convene this archdeaconry against 
 the act of the Pope. 
 
 1. The course I think of is to do as I am required. 
 
 2. To let the whole proceeding pass, and at the end, to say : 
 That I felt bound to act ministerially in convening them, but 
 that I could not unite. 
 
 For, as a secular question, I thought the Acts of 1828-29 
 require this religious freedom ; as in Ireland and the Colonies, 
 so in England. 
 
 As against the Crown, no wrong is done ; the Queen has 
 no jurisdiction in spirituals. 
 
 As against the Church of England, I admit that it is an 
 aggression. But that I am convinced that the Koyal Supremacy 
 has for 300 years put the English episcopate in the wi'ong ; and 
 that it is to be righted, not by opposing the Universal Clmi-ch, 
 but by reconciliation on just and lawful terms. And that T 
 
 VOL. T 2 P
 
 578 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 cannot, therefore, join in any act which does not recognise that 
 principle. 
 
 But I feel this to be inconsistent with the whole Anglican 
 position. Also it is asking for a condemnation of the Reformation. 
 
 Moreover I may be fairly asked to address our bishop, 
 declaring adherence and obedience to his jurisdiction. This 
 I cannot do. 
 
 It is like subscribing the 39 Articles again. 
 
 But if I cannot do this, how can I bear office under him, and 
 over his clergy 1 
 
 All this constitutes a peremptory cause, such as my last letter 
 supposed possible. 
 
 My own advice to another man would be this : — 
 
 1. Resign, but ask the bishop to allow you to keep your 
 purpose in silence, till the day of meeting. 
 
 2. Meet the clergy. 
 
 3. State openly, and in a manful way, your reasons for not 
 acting with them. 
 
 4. Justify your reasons by declaring your resignation. 
 
 5. Take leave of them so far as your office is concerned with 
 all affection. 
 
 Let me have your mind as soon as possible, Non hoc sine 
 Numine. The moves on the check board seem to me to speak 
 with the voice of a man, or rather, with a voice mighty in 
 operation. — Ever yours most affectionately, H. E. M. 
 
 P.S. — I felt as you did, that Allies ought to have openly 
 pointed out his change, and spoken more humbly. As to his 
 "Book," reduce it to one half, and too much remains for an 
 Episcopate separated from the ecclesia diffusa per orbem. 
 
 Private. 
 
 Lavington, 15th Novemher 1850. 
 
 My dear Robert — Tuesday, I was obliged to see the bishop, 
 time pressing, and the clergy. 
 I told the bishop — 
 
 1. That I was convinced of the unlawfulness by Christ's law 
 of the Royal Supremacy. 
 
 2. That I believed it to be the instrument which had severed 
 the Church of England from the Church Universal, and still 
 keeps it apart. 
 
 3. That this act of the Pope is the legitimate consequence — 
 the English Episcopate being lost to the Universal Church. 
 
 4. That I could not oppose the Pope's act, on any principle 
 which did not tend to restore the Church of England's com- 
 munion with the Universal Church.
 
 XXVI 
 
 THE DAY OF HESITATION 579 
 
 5. That I knew the views of the clergy to be different, and 
 that I could not share their proceedings. 
 I therefore requested — 
 
 1. Either to resign at once : 
 
 2. Or, to call the meeting ministerially, and to state my 
 dissent and resignation. 
 
 He desired me to take the latter course, except declaring my 
 resignation, and desired me to consider of it. 
 
 So the case will proceed. 
 
 But I feel that my foot is in the river. It is cold, and my 
 heart is sad. But where faith can act, I seem to feel that the 
 world has subdued the Church of England to itself, and that the 
 Kingdom of Our Lord is not from hence. I do not say one word 
 to urge you, dearest Robert, God forbid ; I know your heart is 
 as mine, and I have gone through your present state. 
 
 Only do nothing against what may be found at last to be the 
 Will and Presence of Our Lord. Give me your prayers. — Ever 
 your own affectionately, H. E. M. 
 
 At last the storm reached even the quiet precincts of 
 Chichester. There was no help for it, no escape. The 
 Bishop of Chichester, Ashurst - Turner Gilbert, requested 
 by the clergy of the diocese, called upon the archdeacon to 
 convene a " No Popery " meeting. Archdeacon Manning 
 obeyed the bidding of his bishop ; but declared to his 
 assembled brethren, to the poignant regret of all present, 
 more especially of his bishop, that his calling them together 
 was his last ministerial act as archdeacon. It was the begin- 
 ning of the end. Before the close of that month of noontide 
 madness, that Guy Fawkes month, when Cardinal Wiseman 
 was burnt in effigy, Archdeacon Manning had made up his 
 mind to resign his archidiaconal of&ce ; and, what was harder 
 still, to leave his beloved church and home at Lavington. 
 
 This closing scene in the drama of his life as a minister 
 and dignitary in the Church of England was recorded by 
 Cardinal Manning in an autobiographical Note dated 
 1885:— 
 
 Then, after an interview with the bishop, I went to the 
 meeting and opened it formally, without any address. This was 
 noted. They then passed their address and resolutions against 
 the Papal Aggression. Finally, they moved a vote of thanks to 
 me. In ansAver, I said : that " it was the first and only time in
 
 580 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 ten years in which I had been separated in conviction and action 
 from them : that I had no choice " : that " necessity Avas laid 
 upon me " : that " I thanked them with all my heart for their 
 brotherly love and the many acts of kindness and friendship, 
 private and public, in the ten years I had held office among 
 them " : that " I should never forget it or them." My dear old 
 friend the Dean was crying, and many others. So we ended 
 and parted. It was our last meeting, and the end of my work 
 in the Church of England ; for after that I only preached once, 
 or maybe a second time, at Lavington : on 8 th December, I 
 think, I left it and never came back. 
 
 Eobert Wilberforce never ceased to warn his friend 
 against taking a precipitate step ; yet he at least was of one 
 mind with Manning on the grave issues at stake between 
 Eome and the Church of England. His frequent letters 
 brought only sympathy and consolation. Not so Mr. 
 Gladstone's letters. They were challenges. He was a 
 formidable opponent to the step, which, at the eleventh 
 hour, he found Manning contemplated. His trenchant 
 arguments were directed with great dialectic skill against 
 Manning's exposition of the Eoyal Supremacy as fatal to 
 the spiritual independence of the Church of England. Mr. 
 Gladstone constructed, as Manning explained in a letter to 
 Eobert Wilberforce, an ingenious theory of his own in 
 regard to the practical effect upon the Church of the power 
 of the Crown. 
 
 It is more than ever to be regretted that Manning's 
 replies to these arguments are no longer in existence. 
 
 Genoa, 5th November 1850. 
 
 My dear Manning — Now I will make another appeal, within 
 the few lines which this bit of paper will contain, to you from 
 yourself, and from you to yourself. I reflect with undiminished 
 surprise upon the undermining of those historical and theological 
 foundations in your mind upon which you were so firmly estab- 
 lished in allegiance to the Church of England. Speaking thus, 
 of course I set aside the Gorham case, which to you I know has 
 only seemed to be the candle that dispelled the darkness. My 
 feelings came upon me in a mass, and I could not at once analyse 
 or understand them ; but I seem to do so now when I reflect 
 that you seemed to be placed upon the rock not only of con- 
 victions, but of the most awful experience a man can undergo,
 
 XXVI THE DAY OF HESITATION 581 
 
 namely, that which comes to him on the brink of the other 
 world.^ I do not know whether you have forgotten, I am certain 
 that I never shall forget, a conversation in which, after your 
 return from the Continent,^ you detailed to me (between the 
 Pimlico quarter and my house) what in communion with death, 
 and the region beyond death, you had not newly but freshly 
 learned. It was in conjunction with an increased disinclination 
 to dwell on corruptions in the Church of Rome, an increased 
 aversion to mere nationality in the Church of England, that you 
 most fervently declared to me, how beyond expression solemn 
 and firm was your assurance, brought from the region you had 
 then been treading, not of the mercy of God to those in invincible 
 ignorance, a mercy reaching to every religious profession, and to 
 none, but of the unmoved and immovable title of the Church 
 of England to her share in the one divine and catholic inherit- 
 ance. Have you really unlearned those lessons ? It cannot be ; 
 and if it were, I, for one, should have this mournful idea driven 
 home upon me, as I have long felt it of Newman, the destiny of 
 that man has been to do little comparatively for the Church of 
 Rome, much against the whole ethical grounds and the con- 
 structure of belief in Divine Revelation. But I have touched my 
 limit and must end, remaining always, as I trust, your affectionate 
 friend, W. E. Gladstone. 
 
 Num. 5 Chiatamone, Naples, 
 20th December 1850. 
 
 My dear Manning — I need not dwell on my disappointment 
 at hearing that we are not to see you here. If your resolution 
 to remain in England is for your own good and that of the 
 Church I must not grudge our particular loss. Your two letters 
 would have suggested matter for the conversation for weeks. On 
 the first I must be very brief. We are sadly, strangely at issue 
 on the facts of the conversation soon after your illness. 
 
 If I have any one clear recollection in my mind, it is that 
 your assurances then did not relate at all to God's mercy to 
 those who faithfully follow their light, be it what it may, but to 
 your perfect sense of security in the Church of England from its 
 objective character. 
 
 I do not appeal to consistency as such. I appeal from 
 sentiments which appear to me partial and (forgive me) even 
 morbid, to former convictions singularly deliberate, singularly 
 solemn, as entitled to exercise a higher authority over your 
 conduct in this hour (as you truly call it) of trial. 
 
 ^ In allusion to Manning's serious illness in 1847. 
 ^ Manning returned from Rome in June 1848.
 
 582 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 I in no degree shrink from your desire, that I should review 
 and reconsider too. As far as I know it is not one of my 
 besetting sins to close my mind (I do not speak of matters 
 immediately practical) against the light ; any demand of this 
 kind, moreover, from you Avould and will have a peculiar 
 authority, and I will readily and anxiously accept your further 
 aid. My train of thought this year has been little less than 
 a continued effort at such review and reconsideration ; but it 
 has brought to me no doubts as to my personal line of duty 
 for the present circumstances ; I still feel the foundation under 
 foot and see the light overhead, laws for a future as yet unde- 
 veloped, and big with scarcely imaginable dangers, will, I trust, 
 be supplied to us, as it unfolds. 
 
 I cannot think that the Church of England or its theology has 
 abandoned the principle of authority. In my view it is entitled to 
 that principle de jure, and holds it de facto in its only systematic 
 theology. I grant, "svith pain, it is now in debate, whether this 
 generation will be faithful to the traditions it has received ; it is 
 quite possible, God only knows, that we may witness its abandon- 
 ment ; from the very highest places of the Church it is gone. If 
 the abandonment takes place, I have the painful conviction that 
 it Avill be owing not to the defective law or theology of the 
 English Church, not to the strength or craft of the foes of the 
 principle, but to the errors of its friends from Newman onwards. 
 
 This may be a matter of opinion ; but it is one which, to me, 
 read in the history of the time, stands out more and more, day 
 by day, from mere colour and surface with the body and sub- 
 stance and relief of sheer fact. . . } 
 
 Let me above all retort your apologies for seeming peremptory. 
 
 ^ In a subsequent part of the above letter, referring to Lord John Russell's 
 fanning the ilanies of religious bigotry by his projected " Ecclesiastical Titles 
 Bill," Mr. Gladstone wrote as follows : — " I am exceedingly keen to follow up 
 with you the first part of your last letter about the probable course of public 
 affairs. I think you know I have always deplored the late measures of the 
 Pope. Perhaps you fear lest on that account I should leap headlong into the 
 stream that is now setting against it and him. I can give you frankly the 
 assurance that I will do nothing to fan those furious flames which Lord John 
 Russell has thought fit to light. Further, I do not at 2)'>'cscnt see my way to 
 getting rid, by legislative means, of what I so much regret ; and I am little 
 disposed, God knows, to join in any attempt to prop the Church by such 
 means. Such props will bo like the sword of Saul, on which he fell ; and 
 will pierce to her very vitals. I would far rather make every en"ort and 
 sacrifice towards bringing her to a new position, and adapting her to 
 work in it ; but, what is the aid on which we can count ? who are the men 
 in the Church that will work with us ? You have a large share in the answer 
 to that question, whether as archdeacon or not makes very little difference. . . ."
 
 XXVI THE DAY OF HESITATION 583 
 
 You will believe me, I am sure, when I say that my abrupt 
 manner of writing only comes from the confidence of old and I 
 trust unchanging affection. — I remain, your very affectionate, 
 
 W. E. Gladstone. 
 
 These vigorous arguments on the part of Mr. Gladstone, 
 and his assumption that Manning's mind was out of balance 
 or in a morbid state, as well as the "jar" which Mr. Glad- 
 stone noticed in their last conversation on the same subject, 
 showed that before Manning's conversion a friction had 
 arisen between two men who alike could ill brook contra- 
 diction or controversy on facts. Manning, for instance, dis- 
 puted the accuracy of Mr. Gladstone's memory as to what 
 passed in the memorable conversation between them on 
 Manning's return from Eome, in 1848. 
 
 The statement attributed by Mr. Gladstone to Manning 
 in regard to his " solemn and firm assurance of the unmoved 
 and immovable title of the Church of England to her share 
 in the one divine and catholic inheritance," however strange 
 it may now appear to the readers of his letters to Eobert 
 Wilberforce, would not have seemed, in the year 1848, 
 strange or unlikely to Mr. Gladstone, or to most others of 
 Manning's friends and disciples. The expression indeed of 
 a firm behef in the sanctity and safety of the Church of 
 England is to be found in Manning's letters to his penitents 
 of a much later date.^ 
 
 Manning, it must be acknowledged, was impatient of 
 argument, and not inclined to give a ready ear to such per- 
 emptory challenges as Mr. Gladstone threw down and so 
 obstinately maintained. It was in reference to this state 
 of feeling between them, that Cardinal Manning, speaking to 
 me of his relations with Mr. Gladstone, said : — 
 
 A breach, apart from the fact of my conversion, must needs 
 have come, sooner or later, between us ; for Mr. Gladstone is a 
 substantive and likes to be attended by adjectives. And I am 
 not exactly an adjective. 
 
 To so sensitive a nature as Manning's, the duty of soothing 
 his relatives, and seeking to reconcile them to his departure 
 
 1 See two letters dated 6th May 1850, and 11th July 1850, pp. 473 and 481.
 
 584 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 from the Church of England, was more trying even than 
 his last intellectual controversies with so old and intimate 
 a friend as Mr. Gladstone, as they stood, face to face, almost 
 in antagonism at the parting of the ways. In the order of 
 nature it was a day of sadness of heart to Manning, all the 
 deeper from the knowledge that the sadness on the part of 
 some of his relatives was embittered by their want of sym- 
 pathy with the motives which actuated his conduct. 
 
 He wrote the following pathetic letter to Mrs. Austen, 
 who was warmly attached to him and sympathised most 
 with his trials : — 
 
 Lavinqton, 1 8th November 1850.^ 
 
 My DEAREST Caroline — Last Tuesday I saw my bishop and 
 told him that I should like to go away for the winter. Until I had 
 seen him I did not think it right to say positively that such was 
 my intention. But people have settled it for me, and asked 
 questions ; and I find from Catherine that you had heard of it. 
 You would never think that I could keep anything from you. 
 But it is hard to keep pace with the tongues of people, and 
 constant work has hindered my writing to you. 
 
 My thought is to be in London 2nd December, and to go, if 
 I can, about the 5th. My first point would be to join Gladstone 
 at Naples ; and if I can I am hoping to go to Jerusalem. 
 
 I feel sad at the thought of leaving you all, for my heart 
 holds fast to you ; and faster the Avorse the times are. But I 
 shall be glad to avoid this winter ; and if I am not at Lavington 
 I had better be fairly away. Last winter in London I had no 
 rest ; and this year I have had no holiday. 
 
 My last letter, I fear, gave you no comfort. But, dearest 
 Caroline, I dare not betray the truth. Come what may, let me 
 only be faithful to Him Avhose faith and kingdom are wounded, 
 and, what is worse, betrayed by those who love ease and this 
 world ; — peace with men and popularity rather than to suffer 
 for His sake. I do not say this to censure them, nor to ask 
 your assent, but to express my own mind. 
 
 Whether I be right or -wrong in this great trial which has 
 come upon the face of the land. He will know that my heart's 
 desire is to be faithful to Him. And then all is well. " A little 
 while," and in His light we shall see light. And all trouble and 
 trial will be over. Give my very affectionate love to the Colonel. 
 
 I shall see you, I hope, in London. — Ever your attached 
 brother, H. E. M. 
 
 ^ Private Letters.
 
 XXVI THE DAY OF HESITATION 585 
 
 Manning next wrote to his eldest brother : — 
 
 Lavington, 2lst November 1850. 
 
 My dearest Frederick — Our last correspondence and con- 
 versation happily renders it needless for me to enter again into 
 the subjects which gave to us both so much pain. No words 
 will express what I have felt at the thought of distressing you 
 whom I have loved from my earliest life. 
 
 But where duties, especially of conscience and religion, come 
 in, I can never forget the words, " He that loveth father or 
 mother more than Me is not worthy of Me." It is this alone 
 that has supported, and still does support, me in the trial I have 
 had to go through. 
 
 I have weighed earthly happiness against what seems to me 
 to be plain duty, and after great and prolonged suffering my 
 deliberate choice is to do what I believe right, at the loss, if it 
 must be so, of all I love best in life. 
 
 I A\all enter into no details in which it might pain you to 
 follow me, and will only say that I have requested the Bishop 
 of Chichester to accept my resignation. 
 
 And now, dearest brother, I will ask of you one kindness. 
 Do not write to me more than the words that you will pray for 
 me. 
 
 My love to you and to Edmunda make anything more a new 
 pain to what I bear already. 
 
 May God ever bless you both with His abundant grace, and 
 unite us once more, where all are one, even as He is one. 
 
 With my truest and most affectionate love to Edmunda, 
 believe me, my dearest Frederick, your attached brother, 
 
 H. E. Manning. ^ 
 
 Manning naturally sought to avoid controversy with a 
 brother whom he described in a letter to Eobert Wilberforce 
 as having " a way of his own." 
 
 Lavington, 26th November 1850. 
 
 My dearest Frederick — May God reward you for all your 
 brotherly love and sorrow for me conveyed in your two kind 
 letters. He alone knows how I suffer in giving you pain ; 
 and if anything I could do would spare you I would refuse 
 nothing except to act against conscience, which would grieve 
 you more than any errors into which I might fall. 
 
 After our meeting in the summer I refrained from writing to 
 you, believing that silence would be more acceptable to you than 
 the pain of corresponding. I would have written gladly if I had 
 thought it would have been according to your wish.
 
 586 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 And now, dearest brother, all my mind shall be open to you 
 whensoever you desire it. And it would be a consolation to me 
 that you should truly know what my convictions and reasons 
 are. 
 
 Do me the justice to believe that no ceremonies have had any 
 weight with me. 
 
 But my object in this letter is only to convey my love to you. 
 
 The reasons requiring the resignation of the archdeaconry 
 involve also the resignation of all that I hold under the same 
 oath and subscription. For my future I have made no decision. 
 When I know what it will be you shall have an instant com- 
 munication of it. 
 
 May God of His infinite mercy lead you ever in the path of 
 peace and in the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ. — Believe me 
 your most affectionate and sorrowing brother, 
 
 H. E. Manning. 
 
 One of the most trying of the minor vexations which 
 Manning had to endure was, as the following letter shows, 
 from the opposition of his eldest brother. He refused to 
 listen to explanations. He persisted in imputing the 
 change in his brother's religious opinions to inconsistency. 
 In vain Manning urged that between his religious opinions 
 in 1835 and those of 1850, there was no inconsistency, 
 "but expansion." Mr. F. Manning could not be brought 
 to understand that mere expansion accounted for the change 
 between the Evangelical of 1835 and " the Papist " of 
 1850:— 
 
 44 Cadooan Place, 5th December 1850. 
 
 My dearest Brother — Our conversation last night was 
 disconcerted, it may be through my fault : if so, forgive me. 
 
 Let me, however, ask you to put this note with the papers in 
 your book of Extracts. 
 
 1. I believe that I shall satisfy you before long of the perfect 
 identity of principle by which my belief has been governed from 
 1835 to 1850, and that Avhat you thought to be inconsistency 
 is in truth expansion. 
 
 2. But I am so little concerned to defend myself, that I will, 
 for this time, grant all you say and be held inconsistent. 
 
 This would be a strong reason for self-mistrust and prolonged 
 examination and re-examination.
 
 XXVI THE DAY OF HESITATION 587 
 
 But in the matter of fad it proves nothing. It is simple 
 jpersonalitij. 
 
 3. The point to be i^roved is the point oi fact, i.e. that whereas 
 I was right in 1838-40, I am im-ong in 1850. 
 
 For instance : — 
 
 Suppose that in 1840 you had written a book to show that 
 the Evening Hymn was not by Bishop Ken. 
 
 And in 1850 to show that it was Bishop Ken. 
 
 If I had said " You are inconsistent," you would have said 
 " Granted ; but look at the facts and the evidence. I was 
 wrong in 1840. I am right in 1850." 
 
 If I had said " No ; you are inconsistent, I won't look," you 
 would say again "Granted; but look at the fact. My in- 
 consistency cannot alter the fact. I mistook this and that 
 proof ; I was ignorant of this and that evidence. I did not 
 perceive this or that error in my own statement. I did my sum 
 vyrong. Go over it and prove it. The fault is mine, but the 
 sum bears proof now." 
 
 This is what I -sWshed you to see. 
 
 I was making no self-defence. You shall keep me under the 
 harrow as a toad until I have convinced your calm sense. 
 
 "Let God be true, and every man a liar," much more let me 
 be scourged as inconsistent. But His Truth is not mine but 
 His. — Ever your loving brother, H. E. M.^ 
 
 In these last days of trial. Manning found consolation 
 and support in taking common action with James Hope, for 
 friends were falling away. Hope's sound judgment and 
 high repute in the world as a man of sense and deliberation, 
 and Manning's well-known prudence and wisdom, would be 
 a public guarantee that their joint action was not taken in 
 lightness. 
 
 Lavington, 227id November 1850. 
 
 My dear Hope — Your last letter was a help to me, for I 
 began to feel as if every man had gone to his own house and 
 left the matters of the Gorham Judgment and Eoyal Supremacy. 
 . . . Since then, events have driven me to a decision. This 
 anti-Popery cry has seized my brethren, and they asked me to 
 be convened. I must either resign at once or convene them 
 ministerially, and express my dissent, the reasons of which would 
 involve my resignation. I went to the Bishop of Chichester 
 
 ^ After Manning's conversion, liis eldest brother to the end of his life 
 declined all correspondence or intercourse.
 
 588 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 and said this, and tendered my resignation. He very kindly 
 invited me to take time ; but I have written, and made it final. 
 ... I should be glad if we might keep together, and whatever 
 must be done, do it with a calm and deliberateness which shall 
 give testimony that it is not done in lightness. — Ever affection- 
 ately yours, H. E. M. 
 
 These two letters, and especially the letter to James 
 Hope, show beyond doubt or question that the day of 
 hesitation for Manning is over, for he accepts Hope's deci- 
 sion that it is either Eome or license of thought and will. 
 
 44 Cadogan Place, 14th December 1850. 
 
 My dear Egbert — I have been denying myself in not writ- 
 ing to you, and have longed to do so. 
 
 Since we met I have done little but try to soothe my kindred. 
 They are all most kind, except my eldest brother, who has a way 
 of his own. 
 
 I have taken no steps beyond writing to James Hope, who 
 will, I trust, be with us through all. 
 
 My wish has been to keep perfectly quiet, and, for reading, 
 I have done little but De Maistre on the Pope — a wonderful 
 book. 
 
 I must say that when human sorrow subsides and leaves 
 my judgment clear, I seem to have no doubt that the Church 
 of England is in schism, and that the final consequences of 
 schism, misfortune, disorder, division, and loss of divine faith, 
 are upon it. 
 
 We have either bravely or obstinately shut our eyes, and 
 lived as if the history of the last three hundred years were either 
 perished or in our favour. 
 
 In truth it is notorious and against us. The reign of Edward 
 the Sixth and Elizabeth, and the Protestant Settlement of 1688, 
 ought to have opened our eyes. 
 
 Your book on the Incarnation stands alone among us, and 
 you had to borrow and steal to make it. The true oAvner is 
 over the water ; and all the consequences are living and real in 
 his house, but in ours do not exist. To take one example^the 
 altar, and all that issues from it and returns to it. I have lately 
 been in correspondence with Charles Wordsworth about Babylon, 
 and I feel convinced, with a conviction not to be exceeded, that 
 it has not application to the Church of God upon earth. It is 
 not the Civitas Dei, but the Civitas Diaholi, in St. Augustine's 
 sense. The words, "Come ye out of her," are enough. Of
 
 XXVI THE DAY OF HESITATION 589 
 
 course, you know Todd's book on Article XL Whatever he 
 may do positively, he has destructively overturned all the anti- 
 Roman use of the Apocalypse. 
 
 Indeed, I think that if you and I had been born out of the 
 English Church we should not have doubted for so much as a 
 day where the one Church is. 
 
 It is only thought for your dear wife that keeps me from 
 saying that I shoidd delight to come to you. Unless you think 
 that she would talk Avith me. I fear she thinks your two friends 
 Henry and Henn are Avorse than Box and his brother Cox. Is 
 not this true 1 
 
 1. The baptismal name expands into the belief. 
 
 2. The belief expands into the Theologia of the Catholic 
 Church, from St. Augustine, through the Summa of St. Thomas, 
 to the Council of Trent. 
 
 It has unity, continuity, harmony, integrity, and what have 
 we 'i Let me hear from you ; and believe me always yours very 
 affectionately, H. E. M. 
 
 How wonderfully beautiful is Advent, and the Lectures in 
 the Breviary. 
 
 Private. 
 
 44 Cadogan Place, llth December 1850. 
 
 My dear Hope — I feel with you that the argument is com- 
 plete. For a long time I nevertheless felt a fear lest I should 
 be doing an act morally wrong. 
 
 This fear has passed away, because the Church, of England 
 has revealed itself in wrong to make one fear more on the other 
 side. It remains therefore as an act of the will. But this, I 
 suppose, it must be. And in making it, I am helped by the 
 fact that to remain under our changed or revealed circumstances 
 would also be an act of the will, and that not in conformity with, 
 but in opposition to, intellectual real convictions ; and the in- 
 tellect is God's gift and our instrument in attaining knowledge 
 of His will. ... It would be to me a very great happiness if 
 we could act together, and our names go together in the first 
 publication of the fact. 
 
 The subject which has brought me to my present convictions 
 is the perpetual office of the Church, under divine guidance, in 
 expounding the faith and deciding controversies. And the book 
 which forces this on me is Melchior Camus's Loci Theologici. It 
 is a long book, but so orderly that you may get the whole out- 
 line with care. Mohler's SijmhoUk you know. 
 
 But, after all. Holy Sci"ipture seems to me in a new light, 
 as Ephes. iv. 4-17. This seems to preclude the notion of a
 
 590 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 divided unity, which is in fact Arianism in the matter of the 
 Church. 
 
 I entirely feel what you say of the alternatives. It is Rome, 
 or license of thought and will. — Ever yours affectionately, 
 
 H. E. M. 
 
 Rome, or license of thought and will, was the intellectual 
 conclusion at which Manning had arrived. But something 
 more, something higher, was needed — the final act of the 
 wilL The " suggestions of flesh and blood " were still 
 strong upon him. Under such influences it seemed for a 
 time to the Archdeacon of Chichester that there was one 
 chance of escape ; one hope still open to him to avert or 
 postpone the dread necessity of taking a final and irre- 
 vocable step. The chance, the hope, the temptation, for 
 such it was, to go abroad ; to visit Mr. Gladstone at 
 Naples, to give ear perhaps — who knows ? — to his counsel ; 
 and then to travel in the Holy Land and await the course 
 of events. The storm might blow over or subside. The 
 Church of England by " a miracle of God's mercy " might 
 be righted or reconstructed. 
 
 The desire to escape from the storm and its effects by 
 going abroad, took at this time a strange hold upon his 
 heart. In this view, he wrote to his trusted friend and 
 counsellor Robert Wilberforce : — 
 
 Lavington, 16th October 1850. 
 
 My dear Robert — . . . Give me now your kind advice 
 for myself. I think I am fully decided to go abroad. But can 
 I do so without resigning ? Does not public honour require it ? 
 
 Resigning does not compel going further. But can I hold 
 offices of trust and emoluments without clashing with upright- 
 ness? Let me hear from you. Henry is still at Malines. — 
 Ever yours very afi"ectionately, H. E. M. 
 
 In a letter dated a fortnight later Manning wrote : " If 
 I go abroad I shall not see you again, missing you now. 
 And I am most anxious to see you." 
 
 In a letter of a somewhat earlier date Manning sug- 
 gested that he and Robert Wilberforce should go to Belgium, 
 on a visit to Henry Wilberforce, and said, " Could we not 
 prevail on the bishop to come ? "
 
 XXVI THE DAY OF HESITATION 591 
 
 William Dodsworth, in his blunt way, declared in a 
 letter to Manning his belief that " Henry Wilberforce 
 would not come back from Belgium a Protestant," and that 
 his wife, Manning's sister-in-law, had just been received into 
 the Church at Malines. Two of Manning's sisters-in-law had 
 now become Catholics. His heart was sorrowful and much 
 disturbed. On the outbreak of the " No-Popery outcry " at 
 the re-establishment of the Catholic hierarchy in England, 
 Manning's natural shrinking from such a violent and vulgar 
 conflict quickened his desire to go abroad and join Mr, 
 Gladstone at Naples. Eobert Wilberforce, however, was 
 afraid that if Manning left England in the height and heat 
 of the religious storm of the day, as he had done two years 
 ago during the agitation against Hampden's appointment, 
 his conduct might be open to misconstruction. There was 
 no help for it. He was bound to stay and face the storm. 
 
 To Eobert Wilberforce, Manning explained, however, that 
 in going abroad " he would gain time for further reflection ; 
 relieve himself from embarrassments at home ; and if 
 he were deluded, which God forbid, find a locus penitentice." 
 What, perhaps, rather disconcerted his plans was the sharp, 
 challenging tone of Mr. Gladstone's late letters. In a letter, 
 dated December, Manning announced that he had given 
 up his intention of coming to Naples, as he had promised. 
 But in the following month, January 1851, another 
 change came over his mind, a last chance presented itself 
 of escaping from the necessity of a final decision ; and in 
 this hope, he announced his intention of joining Mr. 
 Gladstone at Naples. But it was too late. Illness in Mr. 
 Gladstone's family had altered his plans. He was already 
 on his homeward way. 
 
 Not Naples, not Jerusalem, but Eome, the " New 
 Jerusalem," in the overruling designs of Providence, was 
 Manning's destination. 
 
 What havoc and confusion the acceptance by the Church 
 of England of the Eoyal Supremacy in matters of faith, 
 wrought in the minds and hearts of men, is shown by the 
 fact, that men like Eobert Wilberforce and others seriously 
 contemplated to withdraw from the Church of England
 
 592 CARDINAL MANNING chap, xxvi 
 
 which had betrayed the faith, not to become Catholics, but 
 to set up " a Free Church," as the Presbyterians had lately 
 set up a Free Kirk in Scotland. Robert Wilberforce com- 
 municated this scheme to Manning, and asked for his 
 counsel and help. With his practical sagacity and sense 
 of humour. Manning saw the futility and absurdity of the 
 scheme, and replied to Eobert Wilberforce : — " No, Three 
 hundred years ago we left a good ship for a boat; I am 
 not going to leave the boat for a tub." After that genial 
 sarcasm the " tub " was not put afloat on the deep waters. 
 
 For Manning there were but two alternatives — the 
 Church of England, reconstructed from top to bottom by 
 the special intervention of Divine Providence — or Rome.
 
 CHAPTEK XXVII 
 
 THE DAY OF DECISION 
 1851 
 
 In the beginning of the year 1851, Manning had, if not as 
 yet legally, morally resigned his office as Archdeacon, and 
 his benefice. He continued to attend regularly the services 
 in the Church of England and to receive communion usu- 
 ally at St. Paul's, Knightsbridge. But he did not officiate 
 as a clergyman or preach. At the end of the preceding 
 year he had left Lavington, and stayed, as he usually did 
 during the winter, at the house of his sister, Mrs. Carey, 
 44 Cadogau Place. On coming to his new home on the day 
 after his resignation of his office and benefice, Manning was 
 seen by a " penitent " of his, who had come to meet him by 
 appointment, walking towards the house without his shovel 
 hat. The young lady was amazed — for Manning had kept 
 the intention of resigning his office secret — and felt 
 sure now that " all was over." But the ex- Archdeacon 
 repudiated the notion that " all was over," or that " any- 
 thing was over." He, however, refused to receive her con- 
 fession. Like so many of his " penitents," this pious 
 Anglican lady, following the example of her spiritual 
 director, soon after his conversion became a Catholic ; and 
 continued until liis death a friend and " spiritual child " of 
 Cardinal Manning's. 
 
 It was a time of great hope and joy among the Catholics 
 of England, for Pope Pius IX. had restored their ancient 
 hierarchy : and of great triumph too ; for Cardinal Wiseman, 
 in spite of the " No Popery " agitation, and of the threats of 
 
 VOL. I 2 Q
 
 594 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 Lord John Eussell, had taken and retained possession of 
 the newly-erected See of Westminster. 
 
 It was a time, on the other hand, of great disaster to the 
 Church of England ; for the Crown in Council had abolished 
 an article of the Creed ; and the bishops and the vast bulk of 
 the clergy had either accepted or acquiesced in the judg- 
 ment.-^ 
 
 This practical acceptance and recognition of the Eoyal 
 Supremacy in matters of Faith was to the Archdeacon of 
 Chichester like the handwriting on the wall. The " No 
 Popery " agitation, in which the Protestant bishops and 
 clergy took the foremost part, forced home to Manning's 
 heart the conviction, that the Church of England was 
 essentially Protestant, alike in its hatred of the Pope and of 
 the Catholic Faith ; and in its profound indifference to the 
 Eoyal Supremacy in matters of Faith. The madness, 
 though happily short-Kved, into which England was thrown 
 by a firebrand Prime Minister, and by a fanatical mob — it 
 was scarcely better — clerical and lay, including an Arch- 
 bishop and a Lord Chancellor, was an additional obstacle to 
 Manning's submission to the Church. Unpopularity, public 
 abuse, had ever been to him a thing of fear; he loved with 
 all his heart to be held in honour and esteem by the great ; 
 by the Eulers in Church and State.^ Yet if he did this 
 thing which was before him to do, he would at once be- 
 come — as he thought at the time — an exile for ever from the 
 cultured society of England, an outcast among the people ; 
 his name in that day of wrath would be a mark for scorn. 
 He, the lover of peace, especially of religious peace, by 
 becoming a Catholic would add fresh fuel to the fire ; set 
 agoing again — a new occasion of sin — the drum ecclesiastic 
 
 ' The Bishop of Exeter, in a letter to Archdeacon Manning, asking his 
 advice as to the most effectual course to be pursued to save the Church from 
 the disastrous effects of the Gorham Judgment, declared that, as bishop of 
 the diocese into which Mr. Gorham had been intruded, he considered it his 
 duty to convoke the clergy and declare to them that he could no longer hold 
 communion with the Archbishop of Canterbury. The Bishop of Exeter said : 
 "I can no longer attend Convocation, for the Archbishop of Canterbury 
 has, by his act of inducting Mr. Gorham, denied an article of the Creed 
 and forfeited his right to spiritual authority." 
 
 2 See Archdeacon Manning's Diary, 1844-1847, Chap. XII. p. 241.
 
 XXVII THE DAY OF DECISION 595 
 
 in the pulpits of the Church, which he had once loved so 
 well. But since there was no way of escape permitted 
 by conscience, nor of delay even, Manning was too ujDright 
 a man, too God-fearing by far, of a temper too heroic, to 
 flinch from the consequences, be they what they may, of an 
 act dictated by faith. Were his mind once made up, rather 
 than deny or stifle the voice of conscience, he would have 
 gone to the stake with gladness in his heart and a smile 
 of triumph on his face. 
 
 To help in the final making up of his mind in a matter 
 so vital as submission to the Church came the voices of 
 those — his friends and disciples — who had already before 
 him passed, as he himself once called it, " over the Tiber." 
 
 Mr. Allies appealed to the mind of the Archdeacon, hesi- 
 tating and shivering on the brink of the deep waters, first, by 
 trenchant arguments cutting away the frail plank on which 
 liis foot rested ; secondly, to his conscience in the following 
 words : " I should dread some great misfortune if I did not 
 obey His call." Henry Wilberforce — the first of the three 
 Wilberforces who went over to Kome — spoke of the 
 light, peace, and joy, which filled his soul and mind in the 
 Catholic Church. Bellasis, an eminent lawyer, assured 
 Manning what peace to his soul and joy to his heart his 
 conversion had brought. William Dodsworth, the out- 
 spoken, warned Manning in bold but loving terms of the 
 danger of not listening to the dictates of conscience. 
 Laprimaudaye, last but not least, his whilom confessor and 
 curate, in announcing his own conversion, appeals to the 
 heart of his master and friend to rise up and do likewise. 
 
 How much Manning was moved by his friend's act is 
 shown in the following letter, by the fact that, for the very 
 first time, Manning does not blame or censure a friend for 
 becoming a Catholic : 
 
 44 Cadoqan Place, Srd January 1851. 
 
 My dearest Friend — What can I write to you ? my heart 
 is too full, for your sake, and for my own, I feel to have so much 
 share in you, that your act seems mine. God grant it be His 
 will ! Let me hear from you, calmly and truly, as you have 
 ever loved me, and been to me a brother indeed, be so now.
 
 596 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 The world Avill censure you for reckless haste. I do not. I 
 know the long, matui-e, and suffering preparation you have gone 
 through ; the haste is only external. 
 
 I long to hear how your dear wife is. Give her my love, pray 
 write to me. There is no heart in me for common things, but 
 it will not be such to tell you that I saw our friends at Bourne- 
 mouth at Christmas, well and cheerful, and that this morning, 
 Maria Wilson writes word of Samuel Marshall's sudden death. 
 This shocks me much. 
 
 And this is the day I first came to Lavington eighteen years 
 ago. 
 
 Truly it is not in man that walketh to direct his steps. 
 
 May God keep you both in His hands, from all evil ; and 
 unite you to Himself. Believe me, my dearest friend, yours in 
 true love, H. E. M. 
 
 Three weeks later, Manning had made up his mind to 
 become a Catholic ; and in the following letter, with char- 
 acteristic caution and reserve, communicated his intention to 
 Laprimaudaye : — 
 
 KippiNGTON, 28th January 1851. 
 
 My kind AND LOVING Friend — Your letter has just reached 
 me and touches my heart. Be sure that I feel for you with all 
 my heart and that your words are sacred. Long long trial of 
 mind tells me all that you mean. 
 
 After all intellectual processes there remains a step which can 
 be taken only by the will. And in this step the fears you speak 
 of come in. 
 
 Moreover, it is the nature (or caprice) of the human mind 
 that the side to which we are actually moved seems for a 
 time to be the weakest ; we know its weak points, and doubtful 
 points by contact ; and the opposite conceals its weak points 
 under certain prominent points of strength. I can feel this even 
 now ei' /xeratx/xtw between the two hosts. 
 
 No, I do not for a moment feel what some may have hinted. 
 I know your mind, its texture, and its convictions, and I believe 
 that, under whatsoever adverse appearances, the mind and in- 
 tellectual work has been continuous and mature. 
 
 I believe you may be at peace. You will have to bear home 
 trials. But if, indeed, you are united to the Mind, Heart, and 
 Will of our Lord in His kingdom, all will be light. 
 
 With your brother-in-law I see no duty to discuss anything. 
 And for your dear wife, so long as her rest is in your love all is 
 safe at last.
 
 XXVII THE DAY OF DECISION 597 
 
 The words, that last Sunday night, I do indeed remember ; 
 and I believe they will never be forgotten. I am where you left 
 me, at least outwardly. If I do not say more, it is only from a 
 rule by which I have tried to govern myself — never to say what 
 I am not prepared to do. But I may say to you, and you 
 alone, that I cannot think to be long as I am now. I have been 
 dealing one by one with the many bonds of duty which bind me 
 on every side, unravelling some and breaking others. I owe 
 still some acts of deliberation to particular persons. When they 
 are discharged I shall believe that I stand before God all alone, 
 with no responsibility but for my own soul. 
 
 And then I trust I shall not be wanting to the inspirations of 
 His will. 
 
 Pray for me, dearest friend, I have been suffering deeply. But 
 God's ^vill be done. I did not go to your boy, and your present 
 letter relieves me from the fear that I had failed you in an office 
 of love. Let me hear from you. 
 
 Of public news I have nothing to send you beyond the news- 
 paper reports. There is little doubt that the Government will 
 prepare some restrictive measure and carry it, a thing fatal in the 
 end to the Church of England. Ten years will, I believe, repeal 
 it, and carry the English Church to a lower political position 
 than it has now. 
 
 I have not much to say from our dear home and flock, they 
 know what you have done. But Maria says they are very sorry, 
 and speak very kindly. What tender affections, and visions of 
 beauty and of peace move to and fro under that hillside where 
 I see it rise in memory. 
 
 Nothing in this life, except the Altar, can ever again be to 
 me as Lavington. 
 
 Poor old Scutt is at his rest, and I have a sort of craving 
 to number him still, and the lingering old of my flock, among 
 them that sleep before they count me their pastor no more. 
 But once more, God's will be done. 
 
 Give my true and affectionate love to your wife and to your 
 children. — Ever yours, dear brother, in His love, H. E. M. 
 
 Another call like to that of Laprimaudaye's conversion, 
 and Dodsworth's and Henry Wilberforce's,^ comes to Manning, 
 standing on the edge of the deep waters, from yet another 
 of his friends. Lord Campden, who had made the plunge. 
 In reply, Manning attributes to the " anti-Eoman uproar " 
 
 1 Henry Wilberforce and "William Dodsworth were the first two out of 
 the thirteen signatories of the famous Protest against the Gorham Judgment, 
 ■who became Catholics.
 
 598 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 his resolution to wait uo longer in obedience to others, but 
 to take at once the tinal step. 
 
 44 Cadogan Place, lith Jantmry 1851. 
 
 My dear Friend — Your letter has just reached me. 
 Rumours have already made premature statements of the step 
 you now announce. Clod grant it may have been His will and 
 guidance. I can never forget the bond which is (I will not say 
 was) between us, and I trust it may never be dissolved. I did 
 write to you directing either to Orleans or to Bourges, I forget 
 which, and no doubt the letter is still at the post. You do 
 not mention your health. I trust, therefore, that you are well. 
 Since we parted I have been through deep sorrow. My con- 
 victions had long been formed that I could not continue to hold 
 on, under oath and subscription, but obedience to others made 
 me wait. When this anti-Roman uproar broke forth I resolved 
 at once. I could lift no hand in so bad a quarrel either to 
 defend the Royal Supremacy, which has proved itself indefensible, 
 or against a supremacy which the Church for 600 years obeyed. 
 I, therefore, at once went to the Bishop of Chichester and 
 requested him to receive my resignation. He was most kind 
 in desiring me to take time, but I, after a few days, wrote my 
 final resignation. What my human affections have suffered in 
 leaving my only home and flock, where for eighteen years my whole 
 life as a man has been spent, no words can say ; but God gave 
 me grace to lay it all at the foot of the cross, where I am ready, 
 if it be His will, to lay whatsoever yet remains to me. Let me 
 have your prayers for light and strength. This has put an end 
 to my purpose of leaving England for the present, and therefore 
 to my hope of seeing you. May God ever keep you. With 
 my kind remembrance to Lady Campden, my dear friend, 
 yours very affectionately, H. E. Manning. 
 
 Were it not for the evidence contained in his letters to 
 Robert Wilberforce, one might almost have been tempted 
 to fancy, that during his protracted hesitation, Manning was 
 indulging in the painful luxury of not making up his mind. 
 The atmosphere of his new home at his sister's house, with 
 all its kindliness, he described at the time as very trying. 
 Many kind friends were raised up for him at this moment 
 who did not upbraid him, but even entered into the justice 
 and uprightness of what he had done or might do. Men 
 came to see him, as the Jews visited the house of Lazarus.
 
 XXVII THE DAY OF DECISION 599 
 
 But Manning, as a bystander, as he called himself, saw more 
 clearly than ever the hoUowness of Protestantism, of 
 Anglicanism, saw the vision of the Church in all its glory. 
 There was no doubt in his soul ; his mind was convinced ; 
 he was waiting and hesitating only, as he confesses in 
 humility of heart, because of the " shrinking of flesh and 
 blood." ^ In the following letters the last story of his life 
 as an Anglican is told by his own lips : — 
 
 Pendell Court, Bletchingly, 
 'Ith January 1851. 
 
 My dear Egbert — I often long for a letter from you. You 
 see that Bellasis, Dodsworth, and Laprimaudaye are gone down 
 into the water and are over. 
 
 The two former I have seen, they were calm, happy and 
 undoubting ; the last so writes ; For myself I have been suffer- 
 ing more inward sorrow than anyone but God can ever know. 
 
 My love to the Church of England is the strongest affection 
 I have except the love of Truth. No one can say how I feel 
 torn and fleshed on all sides, as people were with hooks in other 
 days. 
 
 But my reason stands clear and stedfast. 
 
 If it were not that I feel bound to put no interval between 
 conviction and action, and that I am still desiring to wait if 
 haply an interposition of God should reveal to me that I am 
 deluded — I should say " I am convinced that whatever is tenable 
 or untenable, the Church of England cannot be defended in its 
 doctrine, position, or principles." 
 
 It seems to me in manifest schism from the Church of all 
 lands and of all ages. 
 
 And its rule of Faith seems as manifestly private reason, 
 judging by way of historical criticism. 
 
 I have abstained, in conscience, from censuring or laying any 
 stress upon the conduct of the living Church of England. 
 
 But it seems to me that it has sold itself to the world for its 
 endo^vments. 
 
 And its pastors have betrayed the Divine authority of 
 Faith — not one article alone, but the whole principle of Divine 
 Authority in Faith. 
 
 What Gerbet says about the coincidence had long struck me. 
 
 In the year that the English Hierarchy quailed before the 
 world, or wind from the wilderness came up and smote the 
 house at itr four corners — hoc non sine numine. 
 
 ^ See letter to Robert Wilberforce, infra, p. 608.
 
 GOO CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 In truth, the more I dwell on the Anglican Reformation, 
 Theology, and Church, the more it seems to me to be a revolt 
 from the mind and Avill of our Divine Lord in the order and 
 Faith of His Kingdom. 
 
 And, by consequence, the more worldly, intellectual, and of 
 the natural man. 
 
 I cannot say how the use of the Breviary brings this out. 
 It is as a vesture of gold,^ wrought about with divers colours for 
 the presence of the Word made flesh. 
 
 All happiness be vnih you, dear Robert. Let me hear of 
 you. — Ever your very aflfectionate, H. E. M. 
 
 Pendell Court, Bletchingly, 
 22nd January 1851. 
 
 My DEAR Robert — Your kind and affectionate note is a 
 real solace to me ; for though, thank God, I am well in health, 
 and have a clear calm assurance in my reason and conscience 
 that I am in the way both of right and truth, yet my heart is, 
 as it was after a great event many years ago, sad and lonely. 
 
 I have abstained from all forward acts or communications, so 
 that I am in a vacuum, the support of past work is gone, and the 
 reality which stands out ever before me is not mine to rest upon. 
 In this state of suspense, which I desire to keep until I shall 
 have taken some time for a disengaged review of my con- 
 victions, I necessarily feel at times lonely and sad. 
 
 Not, I thank God, in the higher sense : this region was 
 never more stedfast and full of substance. And never less 
 Anglican for that reason. 
 
 As often, therefore, as you can send me a few words, the 
 happier I shall be. 
 
 You are right in the main about Newman's book. In 
 1837-8, I was working on the subject of the Rule of Faith; 
 and was convinced, with a depth which has never changed, 
 except to grow deeper, that Universal Tradition is the Divine 
 Witness of Truth on Earth. 
 
 On this I rested until 1845, but with increasing difficulty in 
 bringing the Church of England within the sphere of that 
 witness. 
 
 In 1845, I read Newman's book on Development. It did 
 not satisfy me ; but it opened my eyes to one fact, namely, that 
 I had laid down only half the subject. 
 
 ^ Manning was quoting the Anglican Prayer Book, Psalm xlv. 10. The 
 translation is otherwise in the Bible.
 
 XXVII THE DAY OF DECISION GOl 
 
 I had found the Rule, but not the Judge. It was evident 
 that to put Scripture and Antiquity into the hands of the indi- 
 vidual is as much private judgment as to put Scripture alone. 
 
 It was only to put a word more into Chillingworth's cry 
 about the Bible. 
 
 Lastly, that this consciousness of the Universal Church is some- 
 thing more than the common reason of Christendom. It is also 
 the living and lineal illumination of the Divine Spirit, for 
 " consensus Sanctorum est sensus Spiritus Sancti." 
 
 I remember saying this to you in St. James's Square about 
 1846: that the perpetuity of the Faith must have a higher 
 basis than the individual or collective intellect of the Church. 
 
 The book which drove this conviction home to me was 
 Melchior Camus's Loci Theologici. 
 
 From that day to this every line of inquiry has run up into 
 the same conclusion. 
 
 §§ 1. The plain words of Scripture prove to me that the 
 Church is One, Visible, and Perpetual. 
 
 What is perpetuity in Faith but indefectibility, or, if you 
 will, infallibility 1 There never has been or ever will be a 
 moment when the Church of Faith shall cease to be One, 
 visible and ascertainable. 
 
 Ephes. iv. 4-16 seems to me, as Bull says, luce meridiand 
 clarius. 
 
 The advent and office of the Third Person of the Holy 
 Trinity, as given in Scripture, is also to my mind conclusive. 
 It appears to me that Protestants have found this so plain, and 
 so fatal to their case, that they have Socinianised it away. The 
 Church of England is Socinian in its practice as to Sacraments 
 and the Rule of Faith. 
 
 It sees that to be Scriptural is to be Roman. 
 
 What is Thomas Scott's "Force of Truth," but the promise 
 of guidance to the Church taken possession of by the individual 1 
 
 2. Next, Historical Tradition is even more plain. 
 
 The Universal Church of the first 700 years believed in 
 divine, infallible guidance in its office. 
 
 The Greek Church after the schism claims this as much as 
 the Roman Catholic Church. 
 
 No Christian denied it till Luther, after he was condemned 
 by the Church. 
 
 Again, mere human history would suffice — Schlegel says that 
 " the Catholic Church is the highest historical authority upon 
 earth." 
 
 What is this but the maximum of evidence as to what Our 
 Lord and the Holy Spirit revealed ?
 
 602 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 This alone would convince me. 
 
 3. Lastl)', what does Reason say, but that the certitude of 
 revelation to succeeding ages demands a perpetual provision 
 secure from error ? How else can I be certain of what was 
 revealed 1800 years ago or even that there was a revelation at all ? 
 
 What is infallihilify, but revelation perpetuated, and inspira- 
 tion produced by illumination — the extraordinary by the ordinary 
 — the immediate by the mediate action of the Holy Spirit ? 
 
 The strange and sad words I have heard from good men 
 about " craving for certainty," and " uncertainty being the utmost 
 sphere of moral probation," are alarming for the faith of their 
 followers. 
 
 Is it the probation of Faith to be uncertain whether there be 
 a True and proper Trinity of Persons — whether there be a Eeal 
 Presence — or any Holy Ghost? And if not in these, why in 
 any truth whereby we must be saved ? 
 
 But even Morell sees more deeply and truly. His whole 
 Philosophy of Religion establishes infallibility. . . . 
 
 Now I did not mean to write all this ; but it lets off some of 
 my silent thoughts. 
 
 Yesterday I rode through Madon Park, for your sakes ; and 
 tried to fancy you all. It looks solitary, and of the old world, 
 as all things begin to do now. 
 
 Let me hear from you, and also when you are likely to be in 
 London that I may meet you. — Ever yours, dearest Robert, 
 very affectionately, H. E. M. 
 
 44 Cadogan Place, 4th February 1851. 
 
 My dearest Robert — I have just got your letter, which is 
 a great pleasure to me. It may only be waste of time to say 
 anything till after the Queen's Speech to-day ; but it seems 
 certain that Government will do nothing penal against Nic. 
 W ^ and his brethren. 
 
 What I hear about the English Church is that Ashley will 
 try to get royal injunctions ujDon certain points. 
 
 I do not expect any decisive act. The policy is to hold the 
 greatest bulk, however heterogeneous, together by indifference 
 and negation ; a deadly and godless policy for the Faith and 
 Church, because it lulls and quiets men's consciences at the cost 
 of truth and of souls. 
 
 I have seen Cavendish, who is much as you described him ; 
 unhappy, but unable to go on. 
 
 Gladstone does not come home till the end of this month. I 
 cannot tell you much of Bennett. 
 
 ^ Cardinal Wiseman.
 
 xxvii THE DAY OF DECISION 603 
 
 All this business^ has been incomprehensible to me, and I have 
 never been able to throw myself into the points in contest, so 
 that I have kept aloof. 
 
 James Hope is still in the north, minded much as I am. 
 And now, dear Robert, for you I feel very sincerely. My chief 
 anxiety for you is that you should not re-commit yourself in any 
 word, deed, or way to the Anglican system. I have felt great 
 help and light in the clear unbiassed position I have at this time, 
 and I wish you could keep yourself as near to it as your position 
 allows. I am so afraid of the idola trihus, or species, or lest our 
 position should become our conscience, which is evidently so with 
 many. 
 
 I trust you will always open your thoughts to me. You 
 know it would always be under seal ; and I know from such 
 long and deep experience what this trial is that I would never 
 press you by the touch of a finger. I deeply feel that " hcec 
 mutatio a dezterA ExccUi. 
 
 What you say of your wife is a great sorrow ; but have faith. 
 And now for a word or two on the other matters. 
 
 1. De Maistre, and the books he refers to about Vigilius, fully 
 satisfy me. E.g. Ballerini. So about Honorius. 
 
 2. It appears to me that Ultramontanism and Citramontanism 
 may be put among matters of pious opinion ; but the indivisible 
 unity of the Episcopatus undique diffuses is matter of faith. 
 Home is the focus of authority ; one makes it more, another less 
 intense, but all make it the focus. 
 
 3. All my argument derived from reason was abstract. Not 
 that derived from Scripture or from history. Schlegel's view is 
 altogether historical and concrete. 
 
 4. I think we forget what amount of evidence we are to look 
 for. We are not to expect that nothing shall be alleged against 
 the unity and infallibility of the Church. 
 
 Much is alleged against the evidences of Christianity, and 
 against the canon and inspiration of Scripture. 
 
 But the cumulative evidence is overwhelming. 
 
 And no other system can pretend to occupy the field, or 
 cover the base of the argument. It is this or nothing. 
 
 5. It seems to me that the prophecies cannot warn the world 
 against the Church of God. " Come ye out of her." To whom 
 shall we go ? This makes schism a divine precept, or sets up 
 many churches. But even then to whom shall a Tuscan, or a 
 Sicilian, or a Roman, go ? Is he to make a tub, or die in the 
 desei't ? 
 
 ^ The " Surplice Riots " at Bennett's Church.
 
 604 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 6. I should like to send you some fuller thoughts about the 
 cidtus Sanctorum. It seems to me to be no more than Bethany 
 and Nazareth 2^1'oduccd. It may have become like architecture 
 or music more florid, but the lines and the octaves are primitive 
 and immutable. 
 
 7. Allies ought to have said that he quoted Ballerini's text 
 of the Nicene Canons. B. justifies his text' in his edition of 
 S. Leo. (I am no judge of it.) I have always felt the 6th Canon 
 a difficulty, as implying that the Eoman primacy was ejusdem 
 materici vnth. patriarchates. But I feel satisfied that the focus is 
 an original idea, and incommunicable ; and that patriarchates are 
 only local machinery, not universal, for many churches were ai;To- 
 Kpareis under their own primates, and yet subject to the Cathedra 
 Petri. 
 
 8. Pendell Court is not my seat, but my brother Charles's, 
 who would specially like to see you there. 
 
 And so farewell, my dear Robert. I long to see you. Let 
 me have a few words as often as you can and will. — Ever youi's 
 very affectionately, H. E. M. 
 
 44 Cadogan Place, ISih February 1851. 
 
 My dear Robert — Many thanks for your interesting letter. 
 
 I wish you were in London. There are many people here 
 who would be glad to talk with you. 
 
 This Bill ^ has teeth in it after all, at least for the grosser 
 integuments of bequests and legacies. But for the spiritual part 
 I verily believe that it is " for the furtherance " of the Church of 
 God. It will stem the world's enmity as in the beginning, and 
 all men will see that it refuses to be either patronised or put 
 down. 
 
 I feel thankful that at last the Erastian spirit has found a 
 reality which it can neither frighten nor seduce. 
 
 Perhaps too a yoke is needed to humble and purify the 
 Church. As to the Breviary, I used to give it up as impossible 
 till I fairly Avcnt at it, and now I am amazed at myself. I 
 speak only of the simple and regular use, not of exceptions 
 and peculiar directions, Avhich can only be learned by time and 
 practice. 
 
 The first thing is to get a clear view of the several 2^(irts of 
 each service, this the rubric at the beginning of NeAvman's Tract 
 will give. 
 
 ^ Lord John Russell's Ecclesiastical Titles Bill. In a letter to S. Herbert 
 Manning suggested as an amendment to the clause, Tliat it should be unlaw- 
 ful to assume any territorial title [" except for ])urposes purely spiritual and 
 religious"].
 
 THE DAY OF DECISION 605 
 
 2 
 
 E.g. Matins C Pater. 
 
 1 J ^^^e. 
 ^- j Credo. 
 
 I Domini Labra. 
 
 {Antiphon. 
 Venite. 
 Antiphon. 
 
 3. Hymns, etc. 
 
 4. Psalms and Antiphons. 
 
 5. Benediction and Lessons. 
 
 I got these outlines of each service, and, knowing what to 
 expect, found the rubrics clear. I cannot say what I feel of its 
 beauty. Long as the offices are, I seem never to weary. The 
 variety is wonderful. 
 
 As to Barrow, I seem to have no regard for destructive argu- 
 ments. His book ought to be called " Historic doubts on the 
 Primacy," which the Presbyterian avenges by " Historic doubts 
 on Episcopacy," and Strauss by " Historic doubts on the Historical 
 Christ." The utter weakness of BarroAv is shown when he writes 
 constructively, as in his " Unity of the Church," which in fact de- 
 stroys all but the name. 
 
 For this reason I feel the nibbling at details of no force. 
 " Nothing can stand before euA'y." 
 
 And now what think you ? Do not tell the four winds. 
 Peter — Mrs. Carey's Peter — has declared himself a Catholic born, 
 baptized, and bred till sixteen years old, and he means incontinent 
 to go back to them. 
 
 I really feel for my dear sister, whose horrors are sincere, but 
 it is not in man not to laugh. 
 
 Neither Henry nor I have ever spoken to the man, but he 
 opened his grief to me all at once the other night, in his bed 
 with a fever. — Believe me, dear Eobert, yours very affectionately, 
 
 H. E. M. 
 
 Is not the Apostles' Creed the expansion of the baptismal 
 formula 1 
 
 Is not the Nicene the exposition and guard of the second 
 division of the Apostles' Creed ? 
 
 Is not the Tridentine the exposition and guard of the third 
 division ? 
 
 Is not the principle of authority divine and infallible, one and 
 continuous throughout 1 
 
 And has not the Tridentine as the Nicene done its work per- 
 manently and clearly 1 What else has 1
 
 606 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 44 Cadogan Place, 21 th February 1851. 
 
 My dear Robert — NeAvman's Tract 84, or some such on the 
 creed and canon of Scripture will I suppose deal with your question. 
 My notion is 
 
 1. That the Chnxch. potentially contained all its future decisions 
 from the first. 
 
 2. That its decisions became binding only when they became 
 actual. 
 
 3. That, until made actual, individual minds were free to use 
 their discernment upon the traditions of the Church. 
 
 In this way I understand St. Vincent's Commentarium, as a 
 guide for individuals when the Church has not decided, and 
 until it shall decide, but no longer. 
 
 So I understand St. Augustine Be dodr. Christ., and the ques- 
 tion of the canon. 
 
 There was no canon, as we now understand it, when he wrote, 
 for there were many. 
 
 And this throws out into higher relief the oifice of the living 
 Church, preserving and propounding the Faith by oral tradition. 
 
 Indeed, I know of no fiiml treatment of the canon till Trent, 
 when three classes of sacred books — 
 
 1. The Heb. canon, 
 
 2. The Hellenistic, 
 
 3. The Apostolical — were united in one Index. 
 
 I do not see anything needing reconcilement between the 
 passage you quote of St. Augustine and the office of the Chm'ch, 
 thus understood. 
 
 As to the false miracles, they only trouble my English pride 
 on the score of " common sense " and the like. 
 
 Two parallel lines of miracles, true and false, run through 
 the Old Testament and the New, and are prophesied until the 
 end. 
 
 As to the homely nature of them, the miracles of the Book of 
 Judges, and of Elisha, and of the Acts, to say nothing of Cana, 
 the gabel, the loaves, give full peace to my mind. 
 
 And now what a strange event is Lord John's fall ! No doubt 
 the Budget was cause enough. But it was the occasion, not the 
 cause. The morale of his government and of his own statesman- 
 ship was already destroyed. And, let those deny it who mil, he 
 has fallen before the Church of God. All who take our dear 
 brother's line will deny this, but so it is ; and the world knows 
 it and feels it, but will not say it as eVepov n. 
 
 It may seem that my notions on this come from the state of 
 my mind, but I only write what every day shows, that the 
 madness and wickedness of inflicting their bill on Ireland, never
 
 XXVII THE DAY OF DECISION G07 
 
 pacified or governable in civil matters, and in religious securities 
 above all, is without ex;im]>le among modern political blunders. 
 It seems like judicial blindness ; but I believe it is only bad 
 temper, which is Lord John's chief fault. As a statesman it is 
 imbecility. 
 
 And now do you see that the Times has turned against him 1 
 This is really preternatural baseness. 
 
 All these things warn me that the only power which over- 
 comes the world is Faith. And I do not believe that the Church 
 of England is established by faith but by the State. 
 
 Hope comes on Saturday. — Ever yours very affectionately, 
 
 H. E. M. 
 
 44 Cadogan Place, 3rd March 1851. 
 
 My dear Robert — I have met with a passage in De 
 Maistre's Essai svr le principe g^iiAratew des constitutions politiques, 
 which seems to explain a good deal, and should bear on your 
 question about the Sacrifice. 
 
 He lays down : — 
 
 1. Que les racines des constitutions politiques existent avant 
 toute loi icrite. 
 
 2. Qu'une loi constitutionnelle n'est et ne pent etre que le 
 developpement ou la sanction d'un droit priexistant et non dcrit. 
 
 3. Que ce qu'il y a de plus essentiel, de plus intrins^quement 
 constitutionnel et de veritablement fondamental n'est jamais ecrit, 
 et memo ne sauroit I'etre, sans exposer I'etat. 
 
 4. Que la foiblesse et la fragility d'une constitution sont 
 precis^ment en raison directe de la multiplicity des articles 
 constitutionnels ecrits (Lect. IX.). 
 
 He quotes Tacitus's pessinice reipuhlicce plurimce leges. This 
 seems to me to be absolutely true, and to belong in its highest 
 truth of application to the Catholic Church. 
 
 And it seems to me to show the fallacy of Protestant contro- 
 versial writers who make lists of Roman errors. 
 
 Supremacy . , . a.d. 600 
 
 Transubstantiation . , ,,1070 
 
 Confession . . . jj j? 
 
 etc. etc. 
 
 This is the reverse of fact and truth. 
 
 The points were not then first created, but loriiten. 
 
 They were not first affirmed, but denied. 
 
 Now, as to Sacrifice, it seems plain as day from St. Ignatius, 
 St. Irenseus, St. Justin Martyr, Tertidlian, St. Cyprian, and 
 then all the liturgies, that the Chui'ch believed in the propitiatory 
 and impetratory force of the Ova-ia, sacrijicium, etc., and that, like
 
 608 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 intercessory prayer, its benefit had no limit but the will and 
 application of God. I speak from memory, but I feel sure that 
 in St. Cyprian and St. Augustine {De Civ.) are instances of the 
 eflfect of oblation or of faith in its power apart from communion ; 
 e.g. St. Augustine speaks of the dispossessing of a place by the 
 sacrifice. . . . — Ever yours very aftectionately, H. E. M. 
 
 Cadogan Place, Sth March 1851. 
 
 My DEAR Robert — I must join with you in signalising this 
 day. "WTiat a year this has been since the time when I came 
 and found you all writing letters in Maskell's lodgings. 
 
 The eflfect of that day was, I think, to set us at a point of 
 view from which the Church of England became an object, as it 
 were, external to our minds, and out of which we seemed to be 
 projected so as to see it from without. 
 
 And the issue of this contemplation I think is, that if the 
 Chui'ch have a divine polity and office, the Church of England 
 has fallen from it : 
 
 And that the Presbyterian Kirk of Scotland, and the 
 Episcopal Church of England, are alike oflFspring of one and the 
 same principle, of the private spirit in opposition to the Divine 
 Tradition and lineal consciousness of the Universal Church. 
 
 This seems to me to preclude the justification you suggest for 
 resisting the divine primacy of the Roman See. 
 
 We are opposed not on a question of more or less of submission 
 but by antagonist principles. — Ever yours affectionately, 
 
 H. E. M. 
 
 In the following letter, at the close of his prolonged and 
 heroic wrestlings with self, Manning attributes his hesita- 
 tion in acting to " the shrinking of tlesh and blood, and the 
 vague fear of making a mistake." 
 
 44 Cadogan Place, \Uh March 1851. 
 
 My DEAREST Robert — Hoav much I wish for my own con- 
 solation that I could see you. Next to this your letter of this 
 morning has given me comfort. 
 
 Do you remember last autumn liidding me to wait six 
 months ? I have done so morally, and now I find myself Avith 
 no reason against acting but the shrinking of flesh and blood 
 and the vague fear of making a mistake where my whole light 
 tells me that there is no mistake. It is like the feeling of fear 
 at passing a mountain road, of the safety of which I am by 
 reason perfectly convinced. 
 
 1. First, I seem to be convinced beyond doubt of the nulHty
 
 XXVII THE DAY OF DECISION 609 
 
 of Protestantism,^ and of Anglicanism. In i)oint of spiritual 
 and sacramental action upon souls, of dogma, of unity, of 
 certaint}', the Church of England seems to me to be out of the 
 sphere of the Catholic Church. 
 
 2. Next, granting for a moment your view of the small traces 
 of certain prominent K.C. points in the first 500 years, yet traces 
 there are, as in a portrait taken at five years old of a countenance 
 at 50. And, waiving this, which is a question of details, the 
 Divine institution of one organised, authoritative Witness is in 
 those 500 years proved by every form of evidence of Scripture 
 and tradition. 
 
 I send you a letter from a plain thoughtful man to show how 
 this strikes such a mind. Of course in confidence. . . . Ever 
 your affectionate friend, H. E. Manning. 
 
 44 Cadogan Place, 2lst March 1851. 
 
 My dear Robert — I -RT-ite to you as a solatium humanitatis, 
 which I need gi^eatly. And your letters are among my chief 
 comforts. I do not indeed think that we shall ever be other- 
 wise than we are now. Life has been saddened for me down to 
 the very root, the last thirteen or fourteen years of solitude, and 
 the last five of mental trial have, I trust, broken me to a spirit 
 which will keep fast by all affections. At this time I am suffer- 
 ing in my way as you in yours. The very atmosphere of this 
 house with all its kindness is very trying ; and out of it I am 
 fronting and bearing by anticipation what I used to forebode for 
 the future. The measiu-e of this is, I hope, being exhausted in 
 part before the time. And it is less by far than I could have 
 believed. Many kind friends have been raised up at this 
 moment who, without agreeing, do not upbraid, and even enter 
 into the justice and uprightness of Avhat I have done and may 
 do. So I believe it ^vill be "As thy days, etc." I have so 
 found this in time past that it is a sin in me if I doubt it now. 
 And now it still is fulfilled to me. And I believe will be. It 
 is God's way to veil His consolations till they are needed, that we 
 may go onward and upward in faith, and then every wind and 
 turn in the way brings out some new solace and even joy. So it 
 will be yviih you, my dear Robert, I am well assured, and your fear 
 and forebodings will be dispelled at the moment of meeting them. 
 
 As to Bramhall, he is very learned and copious, but seems to 
 me, like Lord Coke, unscrupulous. His conclusions are broader 
 than his premisses, as I found about the Royal Supremacy 
 
 I send 3^ou the enclosed, which I should like to have back, 
 to show the form into which I feel my thoughts to have settled 
 
 ^ Luther's " Land of Shadows. " 
 VOL. I 2 R
 
 610 CARDIXAL MANNING chap. 
 
 down with a fiill con^^ction. You will see that it is only the 
 outer not the inner way of treating the question, the latter being 
 to me still more convincing as JMohler puts it. James Hope 
 seems as fully satisfied with their line as I am, and we have tried 
 it over and over to find a flaw. AVhat a corroboration is given 
 by the failure and functional impotence of the Anglican Church. 
 
 I Avill mind what you tell me about letters. 
 
 Write to me when you can. — Ever yours, my dear Robert, 
 very affectionately, H. E. M. 
 
 An allusion in the following letter points to the fact 
 that Manning had for the first time attended mass on 
 Sunday as a matter of obligation. On the Sunday pre- 
 ceding, 23rd March, he had attended Anglican worship for 
 the last time : — 
 
 44 Cadogan Place, 29//i March 1851. 
 
 My dear Robert — . . . ?>\st March. — The first part^ I 
 ^vrote on Saturday. Yesterday for the first time I went to what we 
 are wi'iting of : and no words can exjDress the sense of its reality. 
 
 I know what you mean by saying that one sometimes feels 
 as if all this might turn out to be only another "Land of 
 Shadows." I have felt it in time past, but not now. Neither 
 has it ever lasted a moment on reflection. The OeoAoyta from 
 Nice to St. Thomas Aquinas, and the undivided unity diftused 
 throughout the world of which the Cathedra Petri is the centre, — 
 now 1800 years old, mightier in every power now than ever, in 
 intellect, in science, in separation from the world ; and purer too, 
 refined by 300 years of conflict with the modern infidel civilisa- 
 tion, — all this is a fact more solid than the earth. . . . Ever 
 yours afi"ectionately, H. E. M. 
 
 In the recesses of his ovni heart, in the private records 
 of his Diary, in his letters to Robert Wilber force, Arch- 
 deacon Manning had borne witness, for five years and more, 
 with growing clearness and conviction, to the unity, infalli- 
 bility, and divine character and origin of the Catholic 
 Church. The time is now come at last to translate words 
 spoken in private into public acts ; to confess his faith in 
 the face of the Church which he had loved so well, but now 
 no longer believed in — in the face of the world. Manning 
 was prepared by the grace and mercy of God to make the 
 
 ^ The first part of the letter was on the Real Presence, Transubstantiation, 
 Mass.
 
 XXVII THE DAY OF DECISION 611 
 
 sacrifice from which he liad shrunk so long in fear and 
 trembling of heart. 
 
 What remained for him to do in reply to urgent appeals, 
 was to justify to friends and relatives — as he did in the 
 following letters — the final and irrevocable step he was 
 about to take. 
 
 The Duke of Newcastle, who as Lord Lincoln was 
 Manning's contemporary and friend at Oxford, called upon 
 him not to take a precipitate step nor indulge in Utopian 
 dreams of Christian unity. In affectionate terms Sidney 
 Herbert warned him against committing himself to an 
 irrevocable step. 
 
 Only a week before his reception into the Church, 
 Manning wrote to Mr. Gladstone intimating a desire to 
 confer with him on the step which he was about to take, 
 and sent him two books to read. Mr. Gladstone's answer 
 was as follows : — 
 
 6 Carlton Gardens, 1st April 1851. 
 
 My dear Manning — I would not wish to press upon you 
 for your attention, but by Mashing to speak to me, in a matter 
 of such moment, you have put a responsibility upon me which I 
 must not evade. I therefore will remark to you that your letter 
 of yesterday does not answer my memorandum, but passes it by. 
 If the two books you have kindly lent me express yom' meaning, 
 I cannot communicate with you upon it until it has been possible 
 for me to read them. If my representations are ignored, what 
 was the waiting to see me but another instrument of illusion ? 
 
 You meet the main statement only with a quotation from 
 Richils (?),^ which stands in no contrariety to it and therefore 
 overthrows no part of it. 
 
 Nor is my use of John iii. 8, I think, at all open to your 
 objections : surely I have said nothing against " a divine and 
 permanent order in the universal Church." To support this from 
 the text I must have founded myself on a supposition that there 
 was no fixed action of natural causes governing the winds : 
 which you will not suppose. What I said was this : in the 
 case of the individual, the " how " is concealed while the result 
 is known. I might have carried my use of the illustration 
 further and said, known not absolutely, nor always, but suffi- 
 ciently. I surely could not deny that the work of the Spirit is 
 " in a divine and permanent order," whether in the sacrament of 
 
 ^ The query as to the name is in Mr. Gladstone's letter.
 
 612 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 baptism or in the teaching office of the Church. The want of a 
 sensible or intelligent relation bet-\veen means and ends exalts to 
 my mind the office of Faith in regard to Baptism, and likewise 
 in regard to the maintenance of the Faith in the Church. I do 
 not wish to treat this mere illustration as if it were a demonstra- 
 tion, or anything like or near it. I admit that the words might 
 in some way be satisfied by supposing our Lord simply to mean 
 '' the facts of nature are unintelligible, therefore be not afi'aid if 
 revealed truths be likewise beyond the compass of the under- 
 standing " ; but this seems to me a meagre meaning, nor have you 
 alleged any reason against belieAang that they teach more, and 
 show that as in nature so in gi'ace we have reality and substance 
 of results Avhile the causation processes are hi^lden. This is 
 said of Baptism. I remark that it is true also of the provision for 
 maintaining the Faith in the Church, on my statement of it, but 
 not on yours. 
 
 Valeat quantum. My present point is to show that you 
 simjDly go past me now, as you did in my reference to the 
 conversation of some years back.^ Oh ! look well whither you 
 are going and what work you are marring, but most of all for 
 God's sake look whether you are dispassionately using the 
 means given you of holding fast or reaching the truth. — Forgive 
 haste, and believe me affectionately yours, W. E. G. 
 
 But there were other influences at work : other voices 
 speaking to Manning, calling upon him for the love of 
 home, of kith and kin : for the sake of human interests : by 
 the memory of old ties and associations, to remain in the 
 Church of England, or to wait at all events till the storm of 
 fanaticism against " Popery and Puseyism " had somewhat 
 subsided : when it was predicted or hoped that the English 
 Church might be induced to assert its independence of the 
 Eoyal Supremacy in things spiritual. Vain hope ! Manning 
 knew it to be vain. Mr. Carter of Clewer wrote an appeal- 
 ing letter calling upon his friend for the sake of the peace of 
 thousands, for his own sake, to reconsider his position and 
 remain in his own place as their trusted leader. Arthur 
 Wagner, Mrs. Pitt-Byrne, and many others in Brighton — a 
 place which for years had been the headquarters of the Arch- 
 
 1 The conversation alluded to was that which took place in 1848, when 
 Archdeacon Manning, according to Mr. Gladstone's recollection, expressed "a 
 firm assurance of the unmoved and immovable title of the Church of England 
 to her share in the one divine and catholic inheritance."
 
 XXVII THE DAY OF DECISION 613 
 
 deacon of Chichester's spiritual activities — implored Maiming 
 not to cease to be the guide and guardian of souls : not 
 to depart from his ancient teaching : not to yield to the 
 influence of men of lesser intellect. The following letter 
 is but a sample of the numerous appeals from men and 
 women addressed in his hour of hesitation to Manning : — 
 
 Clewer. 
 
 My very dear Sir — I thank you and our acknowledged bene- 
 factor most sincerely for the gift which I received this morning. 
 
 My heart most truly expands to what you express ; it is the 
 faith in which J have lived and would hope to cling to, till I can 
 know as I am known. Oh that I may look to you onward 
 as one that may ever strengthen us in this faith ! I use no 
 light or unmeaning word, God knows I feel we need such, and 
 the more, as this Divine order which you truly describe is 
 violated. But after earnest thought, though without such stores 
 for thought as you have, I cannot see why the violence done 
 may not yet be remedied, or why it is more than similar out- 
 rage and distur])ance in past periods of the Church's sacred 
 course : for the divine order I faithfully believe to be the 
 Church of England's heritage, and to have been followed in her 
 better days ; and if so, will not a hopeful faith trust that yet a 
 little while and it may be so again ? I know not when I may 
 express a hope to you again ; I wonder how I can write to you 
 as I do, but a thought burns within me that some one should 
 now arise in a calm, simple, lofty spirit, to take a leading part 
 in urging on our aAvakened brethren the solemn need of 
 accomplishing the object of your Declaration, and in pointing the 
 way to, and forming the kind of, synod, which might be in 
 harmony with Catholic truth, and suiting the needs of our 
 Church ; and I cannot but feel why you should not be in God's 
 gi'ace an instrument of His hands, and do His work. Do not 
 let such words as Bartie's sadden you. There are many hearts 
 among us who do not feel so harshly and suspiciously — yet do 
 not measure the sympathy you have by the number of names ; 
 for numbers more are deterred from signing by such reasons as 
 B.'s, and other reasons of different people opposed to you. I 
 will pray humbly as I can heartily, that you may live and die in 
 peaceful hope within the communion of the Church of England, 
 wherein I know so large a part of your heart is, and where, I trust, 
 it may be for ever. My deepest thanks are ever due to our com- 
 mon Master for his gift to you. Pardon all I have said I ought 
 not. — Your very gratefully affectionate T. C. Carter.
 
 614 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 44 Cadoqan Place, Zrd January 1851. 
 
 My dear kind Friend — Among many letters which this 
 time has brought me, none of them moved me more than 
 yours. All our past thoughts of sorrow gave to its affectionate 
 forbearance a force beyond words. But in this too I find a 
 consolation. You have not shrunk from opening your grief to 
 me, and that gives me the comfort and strength of opening my 
 grief to you. 
 
 In truth, my heart is almost broken. All human love, all 
 that makes life precious to me, except one thing, is passing or 
 past away. 
 
 To add sharpness to this sorrow, I seem to others to be base, 
 false, and a coward in the day of trial. I cannot seem otherwise. 
 And what have I to answer ? 
 
 I cannot resist the con\iction which forces itself upon me, like 
 light, on every side, that the Church of England is in a position 
 at variance with the Will of God : and that to uphold it in that 
 position is to fight against God. "When the thoixght, even the 
 sight, of my home, flock, and church come over me my heart 
 breaks, and no human solace so much as touches me. The only 
 one thing left is a conscience clear and at peace. 
 
 I could no longer continue under oath and subscription 
 binding me to the Eoyal Supremacy in Ecclesiastical causes, 
 being convinced : — 
 
 1. That it is a violation of the Divine Office of the Church. 
 
 2. That it has involved the Church of England in a separa- 
 tion from the universal Chiirch, which separation I cannot clear 
 of the character of schism. 
 
 3. That it has thereby suspended and prevented the functions 
 of the Church of England so as to efface from the faith and mind 
 of its people the di^ane laws of unity and authority in Faith and 
 discipline. 
 
 But I will not attempt in a letter to detail my reasons on so 
 large a subject. I did so in a printed letter to the Bishop of 
 Chichester last July which I \nll desire Mui-ray to send you. 
 
 I have only said this much to show why I could no longer 
 ^vithout violence to conscience and truth continue to hold under 
 an oath the matter of which I believe to be at variance 'W'ith the 
 divine order of the Church. 
 
 Beyond resigning I have taken no step ; neither am I, either 
 by nature or habit, inclined to precipitation. 
 
 But the tendency of my belief is manifest : and yet nothing 
 but a necessity laid upon me as by the will of God will 
 move me. 
 
 I can find no words to thank you, my dear friend, for your
 
 XXVII THE DAY OF DECISION 615 
 
 affection, of which I am most unworthy. And yet if human love, 
 or sorrow, or any other lower motive, had held me when truth 
 and conscience bade mo decide, I should have been more un- 
 worthy still. This makes me trust that I shall not forget your 
 affection, and that you will remember me in your prayers. 
 
 What a life is this, and how full of griefs Avhich go through 
 the soul ! Thank God it is not our rest, and that we shall soon 
 be beyond the reach of sin. 
 
 My purpose is to stay in London (except a few visits to my 
 famil}^) till Gladstone's return. If you are in London in the 
 Aveek after next I could call and see you. 
 
 Once more my thanks, and may all consolation be with you 
 and your children. — Believe me, ever yours most aftectionately, 
 
 H. E. Manning. 
 
 Pendell Court, Bletchingly, 
 I'ith January 1851. 
 
 My dear Friend — On my return here to-day I read your 
 kind letter which reached me this morning. 
 
 Many and sincere thanks to you and your wife for all the 
 affection it breathes to me. Indeed, I return it from my heart, 
 and do not forget you. You say right. I have been in a deep ; 
 and human sorrow has all but broken my heart. No one but 
 God only knows what it has been ; what my only home and 
 flock were to me. 
 
 But my reason has never doubted of what was my duty, and 
 through all I have had a calm which is enough. 
 
 You kindly desire to know my future, yet I feel unwilling to 
 speak of what I have not decided. But this I may say : Nothing 
 could ever move me from the Church of England except the 
 conviction that it is no part of the Catholic Church. 
 
 If this conviction be confirmed, I see only one path. I say 
 this to show why the events of this time, prosperous or adverse, 
 seem to me to be secondary. The question is deeper j though 
 they tend to illustrate and therefore to decide it. 
 
 What you have heard of Laprimaudaye is true. And now, 
 dear friend, let me have your prayers that I may have no will of 
 my own, no leaning on self ; no following my own light ; but 
 that I may be led by the one only light which never errs. 
 
 Give my Christian love to your wife and trust it for your- 
 self. — Believe me, always very affectionately yours, 
 
 H. E. M. 
 
 KiPPlNQTON, Sevenoaks, 29th January 1851. 
 ;My dear Friend — Thank you from my heart for your
 
 616 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 afifectionate letter. It is very soothing to receive such tokens of 
 brotherly love. 
 
 It would need more than a letter to answer the points you raise 
 in any such way as is due to your kindness. I can therefore only 
 beg you to do me justice by believing that I am not hasty or 
 precipitate, or swayed by affections, or drawn away by the 
 fascination of devotions. My whole heart and mind for twelve 
 years has laboured in the endeavour to justify the Church of 
 England on its own grounds. I am not conscious of any desire 
 deeper or more controlling than the desire to believe our position 
 to be defensible. All that makes or ever has made life dear 
 to me is on this side. 
 
 On the other, plain facts, evidences which no one has 
 endeavoured to meet, appear to me to convict the Reformation 
 of schism. 
 
 I cannot say that the argument you draw from Andrewes and 
 the many good men of the Anglican Chui'ch weighs with me more 
 than as a caution and warning. Because, on the other side, I see 
 at once, More, Fisher, and Pole. And if a consensus Sanctorum 
 is to weigh, the line from St. Gregory the Great to St. Vincent 
 of Paul turns the scale. 
 
 But this is not the proper evidence. For twelve years 
 the subject of unity has been my chief employment. I could 
 with difficulty clear our position at any time. And the 
 grounds on which I have rested in time past are now simply 
 destroyed. 
 
 Long before I knew you I found them failing. Believe me, 
 therefore, that I ^vrite under no hasty or recent feeling. 
 
 For long years my mind has not been as you imply that 
 yours is on Roman points. There is nothing in them which 
 would disquiet me. 
 
 Your affection has drawn me to write this — more than I 
 intended. — Believe me, my dear kind friend, always aifec- 
 tionately yours, H. E. M. 
 
 Hesitation at last was over. Two months and more 
 had passed since Manning had said in confidence to 
 Laprimaudaye : " I cannot think to be long as I am now." 
 Two months which he had passed in reflection and in the 
 vague hope of God's intervention, and in pouring out his 
 soul to Robert Wilberforce, led up at last to his first 
 decisive step. In March, twelve months after the Gorham 
 Judgment, the Archdeacon of Chichester formally and 
 legally resigned his office and benefice, took an irrevocable
 
 XXVII THE DAY OF DECISION 617 
 
 step in breaking fully and finally his official connection 
 with the Church of England. He burnt his boats. 
 
 In an autobiographical Note, Cardinal Manning related 
 the circumstances as follows : — 
 
 In the month of March, I think, I went into the City and 
 executed the resignation of my office and benefice before a 
 public notary j and then returned over Blackfriars Bridge and 
 went to St. George's and knelt before the blessed Sacrament. 
 It was then and there that I said my first " Hail Mary." 
 
 The end is not far off now. The event ordained of God 
 in the inscrutable counsels of Divine Wisdom is at hand. 
 Saul of Tarsus kicks no longer against the goad. 
 
 In that esoteric little chapel near the Buckingham 
 Palace Road, where, in those days, the elect of the 
 Tractarian party took part in its dim mystic services, or 
 hung in rapture upon the lips of Bishop Forbes of 
 Brechin, Manning worshipped for the last time as an 
 Anglican. Five or six years ago the Cardinal said — 
 
 " Shall I tell you where I performed my last act of worship 
 in the Church of England 1 It was in that little chapel off the 
 Buckingham Palace Eoad. I was kneeling by the side of Mr. 
 Gladstone. Just before the Communion Service commenced, I 
 said to him, ' I can no longer take the Communion in the Church 
 of England.' I rose up — ' St. Paul is standing by his side ' — 
 and laying my hand on Mr. Gladstone's shoulder, said, ' Come.' 
 It was the parting of the ways. Mr. Gladstone remained ; 
 and I went my way. Mr. Gladstone still remains where I 
 left him." 
 
 The ways of God in bringing his elect into the Church 
 are as various as they are wonderful. A few, like Saul of 
 Tarsus, find salvation by a direct call ; " a light from 
 heaven above the brightness of the sun ; a voice speaking 
 unto them " ; some by process of argument and reasoning 
 or of historical research ; some by the study of Ecclesiastical 
 Art or Mediaeval Architecture ; still more by the unconscious 
 attraction of Divine truth ; others by doubts and misgivings 
 in the Church of their baptism ; to others, again, the Divine
 
 618 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 call comes in the form of external circumstances ; God speaks 
 to their souls by acts done outside of themselves ; by pro- 
 cesses and energies working round about them for good or 
 for ill. 
 
 As the toad that squatted at the ear of Eve was trans- 
 formed by the touch of the Ithuriel-like spear of Truth ; 
 so was the Church of England forced by the Sword of 
 Peter, in that day of turmoil and confusion, to show herself 
 in her true colours as Protestant to the core ; Protestant 
 from the crown of her head to the sole of her feet : forced 
 to speak, by the mouth of her bishops, priests, and people, 
 in her true voice. If, in accepting the Koyal Supremacy 
 imposed upon her by the Gorham Judgment, she showed 
 herself as a bond-slave of the State ; she spoke, on the 
 other hand, in her denunciations and maledictions of the 
 Catholic Church and of the Tractarian Party — " the un- 
 worthy sons," as she called them, in the words of Lord 
 Eussell, " within her gates " — of her own free will ; and 
 after her kind; and out of the fulness of her heart. 
 Walking in her liberty through the land — in all the wide 
 domains that owned her sway — she comported herself as a 
 Queen, oblivious that she was not vested in the royal robes 
 of the " King's daughter," but wore as a bond-slave the 
 livery of the State. This unnatural mother disowned the 
 children of her own womb, and cursed in that day of 
 madness, or rather of self-betrayal, not only those that had 
 escaped from the " House of Bondage and the City of 
 Confusion," but them that were yet struggling in their 
 bonds and striving after the freedom " wherewith Christ 
 has made us free." From the eyes of many in that day 
 of rough awakening the scales fell ; they fell at last from 
 the eyes of one elected for the divine purposes of God in 
 the beginning ; and in the vision of faith the Church of 
 England by her own acts and words stood revealed to him 
 in her true nature. His now unsealed eyes saw that she 
 bore upon her the fatal note of " dry breasts and a mis- 
 carrying womb." And he knew now, in the opening of 
 his eyes by the hand of God, rough in its mercy, that for 
 seventeen years and more he had sat a captive, not at the
 
 XXVII THE DAY OF DECISION 619 
 
 feet of the " King's Daughter," as he had vainly imagined, 
 but at the feet of a Eebel-Queen, who had no right to the 
 name or title she bore : no right or claim to the robes of 
 the " King's Daughter ": a sorceress that had cast her spells 
 upon him, and had made liim drink of her cup : held him 
 captive, bound by her false wiles and charms, heart and 
 soul, to her footstool, as Merlin was bound to his forest 
 tree by the spells and wiles of Vivien. 
 
 The last stage in this long pilgrimage from Lavington 
 to Eome had yet to be reached. His "last act of reason 
 and the first act of faith" was in abjuring the claims of 
 the Anglican Church.^ Another act had yet to be done ; 
 another wrench suffered; another break with his old life 
 and faith. Saul still kicked against the goad. Arch- 
 deacon Manning could not bring himself to believe, that he 
 was not a priest. After five hours' discussion with the 
 Eev. M. A. Tierney, at Arundel, on the validity of Anglican 
 Orders, in which he believed, to use his own words, " with 
 a consciousness stronger than all reasoning," the " late 
 Archdeacon of Chichester," with eyes aflame, in one of 
 those " Berserker rages," not very uncommon in Archdeacon 
 Manning, and, perhaps, not altogether unknown in the 
 Cardinal - Archbishop — rose up and said : " Then, Mr. 
 Tierney, you think me insincere." 
 
 Never, I verily believe, since the days of Saul of Tarsus 
 have any of the sons of man wrestled so obstinately, or so 
 long, with the Lord. Never was a nobler wrestling, if I 
 may so speak, because of his implicit faith and trust in 
 the Lord, more nobly consummated than by the absolute 
 submission of his heart and soul to the Divine Will. 
 
 One heart- wrench the more; a last break with all the 
 traditions of his life ; a last humiliation, terrible to such a 
 nature as his — the confession to himself, that all his life 
 long he had been only a simple layman ; and all was over. 
 His hour is come ; God's battle is won ; and the end is 
 this : " I, Paul, a prisoner of the Lord." 
 
 1 "The last act of Keason is the first act of Faith," was a proposition 
 which Cardinal Manning had laid down in a private letter to Mr. Gladstone 
 on Faith and Reason.
 
 620 CARDINAL MANNING 
 
 Arciideacon Manning's Eeception into the Church. 
 
 Manning's first letter, on the very day he was received 
 into the Church, was to Robert Wilberforce : — 
 
 14 Queen Street, Mayfair, 
 eth April 1851. 
 
 My dear Egbert — You will not be surprised that I now tell 
 you of the step James Hope and I have this day taken. With 
 the fullest conviction, both of reason and of conscience, we have 
 sought admittance into what we alike believe to be the one true 
 fold and Church of God on earth. 
 
 Pray for me that I may be thankful for the peace which 
 overflows even in the midst of human sorrow. So it must be, 
 for so He foretold ; but all is well if we may do His Avill and see 
 His face at last. 
 
 Give my Christian love to your wife. And may God be with 
 you, my dear Robert. — Ever yours most aflfectionately, 
 
 H. E Manning. 
 
 A fuller account of his reception is contained in the 
 subjoined letter to Robert Wilberforce : — 
 
 Private. Queen St., Mayfair, 
 
 Tuesday in Holy Week, 1851. 
 
 My dearest Robert — I have wished to write to you but 
 have been much hindered. 
 
 The thought of seeing you again is much comfort to me. 
 And remember my promise ; I will not say a word of argument 
 to you. Even I will not (for I feel I cannot) write as I did a 
 few weeks ago, partly because my own mind is at rest ; and 
 partly because I so respect the trial of yours that I shall only 
 follow your leading. 
 
 You wiU, perhaps, -wish to hear somewhat that has befallen 
 me. 
 
 On Passion Sunday, after Sacramental confession, Profession 
 of Faith, conditional Baptism, and absolution, I went to the High 
 Mass. 
 
 Hope was received at about 3 o'clock the same afternoon. 
 
 Palm Sunday we were confirmed, and communicated in the 
 Cardinal's private chapel ; and by his desire I received the 
 tonsure. He has expressed his wish and intention to proceed 
 without delay, and at Whitsuntide to admit me to the Priest-
 
 XXVII THE DAY OF DECISION 621 
 
 hood. He said that it was his decision and act on his own 
 responsibility, not at mine or my seeking. 
 
 I requested that I might afterwards take a full time for 
 exact study, and abstain for some while from any responsible 
 employment. To this he assented. 
 
 I am much impressed by the hard work which is going on in 
 the Roman Catholic Church ; and the hold it has on people of 
 all degrees is beyond all I thought. 
 
 I am living alone here, near the Jesuits' Church ; the services 
 of which are most consoling. 
 
 And now I will say nothing yet of my own mind, except that 
 I have more than I ever asked or thought. A letter I wrote a 
 month ago about a sort of overflow, diff"erent in kind from 
 argument, was more true than I then thought. May God keep 
 me watchful in His holy fear. Pray for me, dear Robert, that 
 I may be kept in His grace, and not lose it by my own sin, 
 then all is well, and more. May every one dear to me share this 
 gift. 
 
 Let me hear from you. I think you will find Badeley glad 
 to see you. 
 
 May God ever bless you and reward you for all your love to 
 me, — Ever yours very affectionately, H. E. Manning. 
 
 On the next day he wrote to Mrs. Laprimaudaye, who 
 had not as yet, as her husband had, become a Catholic. 
 The Laprimaudayes were at Rome. 
 
 3 New Bank Buildings, 
 ^th April 1851. 
 
 My dear Sister in Christ — A few words I must write to 
 you, and they through you will be to your dear husband. 
 
 Yesterday, by the mercy of God, I entered the one true fold 
 of His Son. 
 
 Deeply do I feel what you have sufi"ered, for I have suffered 
 the same. I cannot trust myself so much as to speak of my 
 beloved flock and home ; and I know the spiritual fire which 
 penetrates every affection of the heart by love and by fear in 
 this great furnace. 
 
 But He has led me through, and I am in peace : my reason, 
 conscience, and heart filled to overflow. 
 
 Do not goad or press yourself beyond your speed. He will 
 in His own good time unite your whole soul in all its power to 
 Himself, and then you will have no fear, but a calm, sure peace. 
 
 I trust this may reach you before you leave Rome. 
 
 At this time I can write little : only my love and thanks to
 
 622 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 Charles — and the great joy Avith which I trust in God to greet 
 you both again. — Believe me, ever yours aflfectionately in J. C, 
 
 H. E. Manning. 
 
 To Sidney Herbert, the day after he was received into 
 the Church, Manning wrote as follows : — 
 
 14 Queen Street, Mayfair, 
 1th April 1851. 
 
 My dear Herbert — My words in our last conversation will 
 have prepared you to hear that the time of waiting and reflection 
 in which I then was, has ended in a decision which separates me 
 from all I have most loved in life. 
 
 On that decision I acted yesterday. 
 
 Never, that I can remember, has anything cost me such 
 suff"ering, but never have I acted with so full and unchanging 
 conviction both of reason and of conscience. 
 
 It has been a great solace and help to me that James Hope 
 has gone step by step with me to the end of this trial. 
 
 And now I will use no more words than to say one thing 
 which I have delayed till now. My not coming to you has 
 been intentional. 
 
 I felt that it would spare us both. My aff'ection will never 
 be lessened towards you ; but something higher I trust than 
 mere feeling makes me say to all my friends, that I have dis- 
 solved all obligations on their part. And that I shall never 
 look for any renewal of their communications, nor make them 
 on my part, though I shall receive any expressions of their 
 affection as a new gift ; and return them with joy. 
 
 May all blessings be with you and yours. Give my Christian 
 and affectionate love to your wife ; and believe me, my dear 
 Herbert, ever your attached friend, Henry E. Manning. 
 
 Manning, in the fulness of his heart, sent the following 
 
 note to James Hope, who was received with him into the 
 
 Church. 
 
 14 Queen Street, 1th April 1851. 
 
 My dear Hope — \Yill you accept this copy of the book you 
 saw in my room yesterday (the Paradisus Animce), in memory of 
 Passion Sunday, and its gift of grace to me? It is the most 
 perfect book of devotion I know. Let me ask one thing. I read 
 it through, one page at least a day, between 26th June and the 
 22nd August 1846, marking where I left oft' with the date. It 
 seemed to give me a new science, with order and harmony 
 and details, as of devotion issuing from and returning into
 
 XXVII THE DAY OF DECISION 623 
 
 dogma. Would you Imrden yourself with the same resolu- 
 tion 1 Yes, do it for my sake, and remember me when you 
 do it. I feel as if I had no desire unfulfilled but to persevere 
 in what God has given me for His Son's sake. — Believe me, 
 my dear Hope, always affectionately yours, H. E. M. 
 
 On the day before he was received into the Church, Man- 
 ning informed his eldest brother of the step he was about 
 to take, and explained the grounds of his belief and conduct. 
 
 14 Queen Street, Matfair, 
 5th April 1851. 
 
 My dear Frederick — At the end of our last conversation 
 you asked me a question as to my Faith, to which I then did not 
 give any reply, as the time during which I had resolved to wait 
 in deliberation was not expired. 
 
 I am able now to give the answer ; for which, as your letters 
 have shown me, you have been prepared. 
 
 It would hardly satisfy the brotherly affection I feel for you, 
 if I were not to state simply the grounds of my belief and con- 
 duct. But I will confine myself to making intelligible the 
 reasons of my convictions. 
 
 I believe that at the Reformation the Church of England 
 ought to have been purified, but ought not to have been divided 
 from the universal or Catholic Church. 
 
 By that division it became national instead of universal, and 
 Protestant instead of Catholic. 
 
 In our Baptismal Creed we acknowledge the Holy Catholic 
 Church : and thereby acknowledge the law of unity Avhich, I 
 believe, we have broken. 
 
 I have long believed that it is the duty of the Church of 
 England as a whole to cease to be National and Protestant and 
 to become Catholic again by returning to the unity and authority 
 of the universal Church. For this retiu-n I have hoped, prayed, 
 and laboured. 
 
 Belie^^ng now that, instead of returning, the Church of 
 England is departing further and further from the unity and 
 authority of the universal Church, and that the law of subscrip- 
 tion to unity and authority binds every person who has been 
 baptized, I am in conscience bound to submit myself to the 
 Catholic Church. 
 
 In coming to this decision I have used all the means and 
 helps Avithin my power : I have taken the judgment of all who 
 I thoiaght could help me, and I have for many years prayed for 
 guidance from God.
 
 G24 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 I may indeed err, but He knows that my motive is single and 
 sincere. 
 
 It is my intention therefore to act upon this decision to- 
 morrow. 
 
 And now, my dearest brother, I ask your prayers for me. 
 The more you may think me in error, the more you will pray 
 that I may be kept from evil. 
 
 I will only say that, through God's mercy, I am in calm and 
 peace, sorrowing only with a human sorrow, and for the sorrow 
 which I am causing to those I love so deeply. 
 
 May God be ever with you both. With my affectionate love, 
 believe me, my dearest Frederick, yoiu* attached brother, 
 
 H. E. Manning. 
 
 14 Queen Street, Matfair, 
 I2th April 1851. 
 
 My dear Frederick — I am very thankful to you for your 
 letter, and for the promise that you will remember me in your 
 prayers. However we be separated otherwise, in this we shall 
 still be united. . . , 
 
 I did not in any way disclaim you, my dear brother. God 
 forbid. I have always and always shall cherish every remem- 
 brance of you with affection and respect, as I said when we spoke 
 together. 
 
 I said that when men are in middle life the inequalities of 
 age, by a law of nature, pass away. We are each one solely and 
 finally responsible to Him who at the last day will judge us. 
 This was the substance and intention of my words. 
 
 In answer to a letter of Manning's announcing his con- 
 version, the Duke of Newcastle wrote as follows : — 
 
 Clumber, llih Ap-il 1851. 
 
 My DEAR Friend — Preparation for the last blow of sorrow 
 does not, as I have long since learnt, diminish the severity of it 
 when it really comes, and though your last most amiable letter 
 to me left me no hope — your announcement that you no longer 
 belong to the Anglican Church has filled me with grief such as 
 no similar event has ever occasioned to me before. 
 
 You say that your chief trial now is the loss of friends dear 
 to you, and the sorrow you give them. Of the latter I cannot, 
 and (from my heart and conscience I say it) I would not if I 
 could, relieve you, — but in me at least you will find no loss of 
 friendship. I mourn over what I must think the great error of 
 a pure and noble mind seeking the true light, but I cannot cease
 
 xxvii THE DAY OF DECISION 625 
 
 to love and admire the man who makes the sacrifices which I 
 know you have, in obedience to what he believes to bo right. I 
 shall ever cherish the recollections of the past — I shall think of 
 what is now the present with sorrow too deep to be mixed with 
 bitterness or sectarian heat, — and for the future I pray God that 
 you may not be changed as others have, and that you may carry 
 into the Church which has received you that spirit of pure, 
 Christian, universal love and charity, which has made you one 
 of the brightest ornaments of that which has lost you. Certain 
 I am, there are many attached friends who will still cling to 
 their love and respect for you — I dare not contemplate the day 
 when a difference of faith may dissipate those feelings which you 
 now bear towards them. 
 
 Alas ! I fear you little know what thorns your secession from 
 amongst us wall strew in the paths of those who have hitherto 
 laboured -nnth you, or the impulse you will give to that spirit of 
 Puritan hatred which is fast reviving in the land — but all this I 
 must not expect you to care for now — I have always feared your 
 aspirations for " Christian Unity " were too Utopian, but at any 
 rate I cannot doubt that the conversion of two such men as 
 yourself and James Hope must make more hopeless than ever so 
 blessed an event. 
 
 May God ever bless you, my dear friend ; and may we, though 
 now pursuing different paths, meet in that day when the truth 
 shall be revealed to us all. — Believe me, ever affectionately and 
 truly yours, Newcastle, 
 
 Forgive me if I address my letter as heretofore. Believe me 
 I do not do so inconsiderately, much less unkindly. 
 
 The following letter to his sister, Mrs, Austen, bespeaks 
 the deep affection which existed between Manning and his 
 nearest relatives : — 
 
 14 CuRZON Street, Wth June 1851. 
 
 My very dear Sister — You know me so well that if I 
 were not to tell you in words you would not doubt that I enter 
 into every word of your letter. I wish you and my dear 
 brother to know that my own circumspection for you in your 
 relations to both kindred and friends would make me keep 
 aloof from you. It is the clear and free judgment of my own 
 heart for you both, and I feel that our love, which nothing can 
 change, will be best cherished by my denying myself in every- 
 thing which would bring upon you the embarrassments insepar- 
 able from the present private and public state of feeling among 
 those round about us. 
 
 VOL, I 2 S
 
 626 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 Let me say to you both, Never let a thought cross you for 
 my sake. My confidence in your too great love is beyond 
 change. It would sadden and disquiet you to imagine or to be 
 straining points for my sake. I should have no happiness in 
 it. For me it is enough to know how we love each other, and 
 that wheresoever we can meet on neutral ground, our love, 
 notwithstanding private feelings and a consciousness of a certain 
 change of relation, will be heartfelt and sincere. 
 
 Indeed my saddest feeling often is, that you two, who have 
 done so much for me, may feel that your love and generous care 
 for me have been throAvn away : and that I am unworthy, if not 
 even unthankful. It is the Will of God that I should bear this 
 for a time to humble and to chasten me : and I will bear it, by 
 His grace, with gentleness and even acquiescence. But the time 
 will come, if not here, in a better and a truer world, when you will 
 see that not a word or act of your love has fallen to the ground. 
 
 Read this to the Colonel with my brotherly love. 
 
 When you come to London you will find me here ; and my 
 kind friends give me only too much comfort, so that I can 
 receive you whenever you are able to come. It will indeed be 
 great pleasure to see you. . . .^ 
 
 May all solace and hope and filial trust in the love of our 
 Heavenly Father be with you, my dearest sister. Believe me 
 ever your attached brother, H. E. JNI. 
 
 Bishop Wilberforce, on his first visit to Lavington after 
 Archdeacon Manning's conversion, wrote to Hon. R. 
 Cavendish as follows : — 
 
 Lavington, lOth June 1851. 
 
 My dear Cavendish — We came here yesterday, and return 
 (d.V.) to-morrow. It is a sad visit. The glory of our beloved 
 little church is departed. The Heavens weeping over us, and 
 
 ^ In a passage of the above letter, Manning referred to his sister Maria and 
 his brother-in-law John Anderdon in the following terms : — "I have deeply 
 felt for dearest John and Maria. They have had a strange and sudden burst 
 of anxiety and sorrow in the last eighteen months. After a long life, not 
 bright except in its first few years, but yet always peaceful and unusually 
 free from home sorrow, it has pleased God to begin His work of love with 
 great speed. But I can never condole. The conviction is so deeply \Aa-ought 
 into my reason and faith that sorrows are signs of God's love, and the more 
 sorrow the more love, the sharper and speedier the more blessed and the 
 more perfecting, that I can only look at them as on their way in the path 
 of eternal life, with tokens of grace multiplying as they go on. 
 
 "We live too little by faith, and look at this world as if it were the end, 
 and not the beginning, of our way and life."
 
 XXVII THE DAY OF DECISION 627 
 
 the trees dropping round ns, seem acted parables of our thoughts. 
 Twenty-three years ago to-morrow, and the sun shone on me, as 
 I came out of that church the most blessed of bridegrooms, 
 having won her whom I had loved, as few love so young, ever 
 since the vision of her beauty enchanted my early boyhood. 
 How has wave followed wave from that day to this ! Oh, and 
 how have mercy and loving-kindness, and forbearance, and 
 compassionate forgiveness been multiplied and abounded upon 
 me year after year ! ^ 
 
 lu the same year Bishop Wilberforce, much alarmed at 
 Manning's conversion, wrote to his brother Eobert : — " Great 
 love to Jane. I trust to her to keep you from being led 
 away by Manning's subtleties." ^ 
 
 Mr. Gladstone's recent letters, though written in friendly 
 terms, had been in substance so defiant and challenging as 
 to induce ]\Ianuing to abstain from provoking controversy 
 afresh by giving an explanation of the reasons which had 
 led to the step he had taken. Indeed, Manning communi- 
 cated the simple fact of his impending conversion, on the 
 suggestion of Kobert Wilberforce, to Mr. Gladstone. His 
 reply was sharp and critical. These letters were the last 
 word that passed between Manning and Mr. Gladstone. 
 All intercourse between them came to an end ; not to be 
 resumed until after long years.^ 
 
 In the autobiographical Note, from which I just now 
 recited the resignation of his archdeaconry and benefice, 
 Cardinal Manning gave an account of the final steps 
 which led him out of his Anglican life into a higher life — 
 the life of Faith in the Catholic Church : — 
 
 On 6th April 1851, Passion Sunday, Hope and I went to 
 Father Brownbill in Hill Street and were received. I, before 
 High Mass, and he after it. So ended one life : and I thought 
 
 ^ Life of Bishop Wilberforce, vol. ii. p. 51. 
 
 - Jane, Robert Wilberforce's wife, had as great a dread of ' ' secession " as 
 the bishop. 
 
 ' Speaking of Mr. Gladstone's attitude towards himself, Cardinal Manning, 
 in 1885, said : — " In illustration of how deeply aifected he was by my conver- 
 sion, I will tell you what Mr. Gladstone said to a friend — 'On hearing ol' 
 Manning's secession from the English Church, at the time I felt as if ho 
 had murdered my mother by mistake. ' "
 
 628 CARDINAL MANNING chap, xxvii 
 
 my life was over. I fully believed that I should never do more 
 than become a priest ; about which I never doubted, nor ever 
 wavered. But I looked forward to live and die in a priest's life, 
 out of sight. 
 
 I Avent to St. George's and saw the Cardinal — he fixed to 
 give me confirmation and communion the following Sunday. 
 And I forget on what day I received the tonsure.^ He then 
 told me he had decided to ordain me priest Avithout delay ; and 
 that he did so with the knowledge and sanction of Rome. I 
 begged that, in that event, he would allow me after ordination 
 to have the same time I should have had before ordination, 
 for reading and study. This was settled, and I went to Rome 
 in the October folloAving. So far was this early ordination from 
 giving displeasure in Rome, that Cardinal Franzoni gave me the 
 faculties of a missionary apostolic on my return to England in 
 May 1852.2 
 
 ' In the first page of Manning's Diary, 1851, are the following notes : — 
 
 2ith March. — Eve of Lady Day, St. George's, Southwark, Capucin. Com- 
 pline, Sermon and Benediction. 
 
 2bth March. — Executed resignation of archdeaconry and benefice. 
 
 4<A April. — Went to 14 Curzon Street. 
 
 bth A])ril. — Went to Father Brownbill with Hope. St. George's, Cardinal. 
 
 6</i April. — Passion Sunday, 9^ a.m., was received at High Mass. Hope 
 received, 3 o'clock. 
 
 IWi Aiml. — Palm Sunday, Confirmation. Tonsure. First Communion. 
 Minor Orders. Sub-Deacon. Retreat. Deacon. 
 
 Trinity Sunday. — Priest. 
 
 - Manning's receiving Holy Orders in so short a time as ten weeks after 
 his reception into the Church gave rise to rather severe criticism on Cardinal 
 Wiseman's precipitancy. And it was alleged that Rome would disapprove 
 of so rash a step. But Wiseman was large-hearted and s}Tnpathetic, and 
 spared Manning, who was sensitive on the point, the humiliation of remaining 
 a layman longer than was absolutely necessary. A week after his conversion, 
 therefore, he received the tonsure. The faculties, bestowed on the Rev. H. 
 E. Manning by Cardinal Franzoni, were, however, the ordinary faculties con- 
 fen'ed on every priest on entering the mission, by the bishop of the diocese. 
 Like faculties as those conferred by Cardinal Franzoni would have been given 
 to Manning on his return to England by Cardinal Wiseman.
 
 CHAPTEK XXVIII 
 
 AN AFTEEMATH SUMMEK AND AUTUMN 1851 
 
 Manning's conversion took men, who thought they knew 
 him well, by surprise. His own bishop, Gilbert of Chichester, 
 was totally unprepared for such an event. Phillpotts, the 
 Bishop of Exeter, who had been in close and constant con- 
 sultation, before and after the Gorham Judgment, with 
 Manning, was so taken aback by surprise as to declare in 
 his anger, " Manning's secession is a public disgrace." Arch- 
 deacon Hare of Lewes, who for ten years and more had 
 been on intimate terms with his brother Archdeacon of 
 Chichester, and in close and friendly correspondence on 
 religious questions, had not the slightest misgivings as to 
 Manning's belief in, and devoted attachment to, the Church 
 of England. In spite of their religious differences — for 
 Archdeacon Hare was an Evangelical of the Evangelicals — 
 he paid — in a charge delivered at Lewes in 1852, a just and 
 generous tribute to Manning's disinterested sincerity, high 
 character, and holiness of heart. Mr. Gladstone, as I have 
 already shown, resented Manning's act as inconsistent with 
 " his former — his recent self " ; inconsistent with an avowed 
 intention of standing by the Church of England to the last, 
 in the hope and purpose of saving it from the fatal effects 
 of the Gorham Judgment. But all these men, even Mr. 
 Gladstone himself, w4io thought they knew Manning well, 
 only knew half his mind. But they who knew his whole 
 mind, heart and soul — and for years — men like Eobert 
 Wilberforce, and Laprimaudaye, and Henry Wilberforce, and 
 William Dodsworth, and Mr. AUies, knew likewise that far
 
 G30 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 from acting with precipitancy, or in a manner inconsistent 
 with the principles he had at heart, Manning had consumed 
 himself, as it were, by a prolonged and painful delibera- 
 tion, before he could make up his mind to take the final 
 step. 
 
 His prolonged wrestlings with himself were not over in- 
 tellectual, but moral difficulties. His intellect had been long 
 satisfied and subdued, but not his will. In 1841, when he 
 became Archdeacon, he was conscious, as he has told us in 
 his Diary, of a desire and dream of influence. But Manning 
 never was a mere dreamer : his dreams and desires took 
 definite form and shape. His was a forecasting mind, pre- 
 paring beforehand means most adapted to shape his ends. 
 At the time of Newman's conversion, Manning was still a 
 firm believer in the English Church. He was afraid, as 
 he wrote to Mr. Gladstone at the time, that the Church of 
 England would split asunder. To avert, if possible, such a 
 calamity was the highest and the noblest of duties. Manning 
 saw his opportunity. He was of a masterful spirit. He 
 had a singular and supreme confidence in his own powers — 
 in his judgment in conceiving a design ; in his will for 
 carrying it out. Having once made up his mind, he took 
 counsel of no man. Another strong point in his character 
 was, that though patient in waiting for the removal of 
 obstacles, he rarely if ever gave up plans he had once formed. 
 To maintain unity in the Church of England, by conciliating 
 the more moderate men on either side, was, from a human 
 point of view, a noble ambition, deserving of the highest 
 reward a grateful Church could bestow. From a religious 
 standpoint, which was the consideration ever prominent in 
 his mind, it was the most sacred of duties, as Manning was 
 convinced, heart and soul. Was not the preservation of 
 unity in His Church such a work as was well -pleasing to 
 God, and conducive to the salvation of souls ? Ambition, 
 unlike that grosser kind which filled the soul of his brother- 
 in-law Bishop Wilberforce, came to Manning's mind in the 
 subtler form of a desire to become an active agent, if needs 
 be as bishop, in securing a supreme spiritual blessing for 
 the Church of England. But in the recesses of his soul
 
 XXVIII AN AFTERMATH 631 
 
 Manning was ill at ease. His sensitive and scrupulous 
 conscience was troubled. In his Diary, at the time of his 
 temptation, he wrote : — 
 
 Is this prospect, desire, or hope of elevation, another tempta- 
 tion to secularity 1 or does God intend by it that I should rem.'iin 
 here (in the Church of England) to preserve unity in the Church ? 
 No man can help me. 
 
 Manning had not as yet committed himself to any such 
 public action as to preclude his elevation to a bishopric. 
 He had taken no public part — he was absent in Eome — 
 in the final opposition to the appointment of Dr. Hampden, 
 whom, with vulgar insolence, Lord John Eussell had thrust 
 as bishop on a reluctant Church. That Manning had con- 
 demned Dr. Hampden in the most sweeping terms was, 
 however, unknown to the world, to the Bench of Bishops, and 
 the Government. The Archdeacon of Chichester was known 
 of all men as a zealous High Churchman ; yet he was known 
 to the ecclesiastical authorities as an active opponent to 
 " Eomanism," as was his brother-in-law Bishop Wilberforce. 
 Manning, too, was not a greater High Churchman than 
 Archdeacon Ker Hamilton, who was appointed, a year or 
 two after Manning left the Church of England, Bishop of 
 Salisbury. 
 
 Several years before this time, in the ordinary course of 
 ecclesiastical patronage, at the solicitation of his brother-in- 
 law Bishop Wilberforce, Manning was offered the Sub- 
 almonership to the Queen, in the gift of the Archbishop of 
 York. After a severe inward struggle, with tears, as it were, 
 of the heart. Manning, from conscientious motives, refused 
 the gift. Most Churchmen of the ordinary type would, 
 there is no doubt, have jumped at the offer. 
 
 Manning now gave up ambition even in its subtler form : 
 not this time from fear of secularity, but because he had 
 lost all faith in the Church of England. 
 
 To Mr. Allies, announcing his intention, after the Gorham 
 Judgment, of becoming a Catholic, Archdeacon Manning 
 replied : " Samuel waited till God called him three times. 
 This is not your third call." It was indeed not Manning's.
 
 632 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 His first call was the Hampden appointment ; the Gorham 
 Judgment the second ; and the third call, as he wrote to 
 Lord Campden on 14th January 1851, "this anti-Eoman 
 uproar." 
 
 Manning's conversion had in one sense no human con- 
 solation. The fierce intellectual struggles, the painful ques- 
 tionings and searchiugs of a thinker in his pursuit of truth ; 
 in his search after light, receive, in the discovery of the 
 Divine light of Truth, full satisfaction and ample compensa- 
 tion. Such a thinker, such a student, suffers no break or 
 interruption in his pursuits or studies ; but finds an added 
 intellectual light, fuller guidance, in the Catholic Church. 
 Manning, however, was not a student or profound thinker, 
 but a man of action. Work, public action, influence, fellow- 
 ship with kindred minds, the esteem of men, were to Man- 
 ning as the breath of his nostrils. All this was lost to him 
 on leaving the Church of England. Like Othello, liis 
 occupation was gone. His world knew him no more. His 
 life, as he said, was over. No wonder, in the anguish of 
 his heart, he cried out to Eobert Wilberforce, " After this I 
 shall sink to the bottom and disappear." For such a sacri- 
 fice there was no human compensation. It was the undoing 
 of all his past life, as sad as it was heroic. 
 
 His was a very human and very pathetic story. At the 
 age of forty-four he had to begin life anew — a stranger among 
 strangers. If, as a man of action, he must needs work, he 
 would have to begin work again, as it were, at the plough- 
 tail. In that day of desolation there was no room for ambi- 
 tion. He verily believed that his ambition was buried in 
 the Church he left behind him. His sole thought was to 
 live as a simple priest in the love and fear of God. 
 
 But that such a man as Manning, as he had said in his 
 despair, " should sink to the bottom and disappear " is not 
 in the nature of things. In becoming a Catholic a man's 
 nature is not changed ; but, if so be, only purified and 
 exalted. In time, after feeling his feet, and surveying with 
 far-seeing eyes the lie of the strange land in which his lot 
 was cast, and watching and noting the drift and current 
 of things, it would be strange and unnatural to suppose
 
 sxviii AN AFTERMATH G33 
 
 that, in such a character as Manning's, self-assertion would 
 not once more make itself felt. 
 
 Eome, too, it must be borne in mind, offered to a man of 
 restless energies and brilliant abilities a larger field of action 
 than the Church of England — larger hopes, larger aspira- 
 tions, and, if so be, larger ambitions. 
 
 But spiritual consolations abounded ; spiritual joys flowed 
 into Manning's soul and wrought peace in his troubled heart. 
 Spiritual blessings were given to him as reward of his 
 obedience to the Divine will. 
 
 Manning, within ten weeks of his reception into the 
 Church, received Holy Orders at the hands of Cardinal 
 Wiseman in his private chapel on the Saturday in Whitsun 
 Week, 14th June 1851. After the ceremony. Cardinal 
 Wiseman, in the fulness of his heart, embracing Manning 
 said : — 
 
 I look upon you as one of the first-fruits of the restoration 
 of the Hierarchy by our Holy Father Pius IX. Go forth, my 
 son, and bring your brethren and fellow-countrymen by thousands 
 and tens of thousands into the one true Fold of Christ. 
 
 Wiseman was of an enthusiastic temperament and 
 sanguine in his hopes for the conversion of England. That 
 High Mass should be sung once more in Westminster 
 Abbey in our day, even if he himself did not live to sing it, 
 was the height of his ambition. He had high hopes of 
 Manning as a fellow-worker in this fruitful field. Cardinal 
 Wiseman, happily, lived long enough to see Manning bring- 
 ing multitudes of his friends and fellow-countrymen into 
 the Church. The greater part of the Sunday intervening 
 between his ordination and the saying of his first Mass he 
 spent at the Oratory, where Father Faber carefully explained 
 to him the rubrics and ceremonies. 
 
 On Monday, 16th June, Manning said his first mass in 
 the Church of the Jesuits in Farm Street ; P^re Ravignan, the 
 celebrated French Jesuit, who at the time was delivering a 
 course of sermons at Farm Street, acted as assistant priest 
 After mass, the congregation, among whom were many of 
 Manning's personal friends and late disciples, according to
 
 634 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 custom, kissed the open-spread hands of the newly-ordained 
 priest. 
 
 It was arranged by Cardinal Wiseman that Manning 
 after his ordination should go to Eome and enter upon his 
 theological studies and training. But out of consideration 
 for his health he was advised to avoid the summer heats of 
 liome. In consequence, his leaving England was postponed 
 to the autumn. 
 
 Manning's conversion made no break in his intimacy with 
 Kobert Wilberforce, nor was their correspondence interrupted. 
 But this was a solitary exception. All the rest of Man- 
 ning's friends and fellow-workers in the Anglican cause stood 
 aloof from him. He lived as an alien in their midst; 
 became an exile in his own land. His brother-in-law, the 
 Bishop of Oxford, knew him no more ; often spoke bitterly 
 of him. Mr. Gladstone's friendship came to an end. 
 
 Speaking of this first breach of his friendship with 
 Manning, Mr. Gladstone said : — 
 
 Our common bond was interest in the Anglican cause. It 
 was the breath in the nostrils of our friendship. We had 
 nothing else in common. Manning never spoke to me of his 
 friends. When he became a Catholic, om* friendship died a 
 natural death. 
 
 Archdeacon Harrison, whose intimacy with Manning, 
 dating from their Oxford days, was of the closest description, 
 shrank from him, not out of ill-feeling indeed, but in fear of 
 his influence. His own, and other bishops, of course, knew 
 him no more. Ker Hamilton who, instead of becoming 
 Catholic, became Bishop of Salisbury, neither saw him nor 
 wished to see him until too late, on his death-bed. Pusey, 
 and Keble, Bennett of St. Paul's, Knightsbridge, Mr. Carter 
 of Clewer, and Hare, the Evangelical Archdeacon of Lewes, 
 and the rest of Manning's friends, turned away from him ; 
 they and their little world knew him no more. 
 
 Speaking, a few years before his death, on this subject, 
 Cardinal Manning said, not only in reference to members of 
 his own family, but to his friends and fellow-workers in the 
 old days : —
 
 XXVIII AN AFTERMATH 635 
 
 I left them, not they me. I went over the bridge : they, 
 too many of them, stayed behind, I did not consider it right or 
 proper, or comporting Avith the dignity of the cause I represent, 
 by making advances, to subject myself to a rebuff. But I met 
 more than half-way those who held out a hand to me. We 
 parted : they held aloof from me ; but not one, I truly believe, 
 of my friends in those days of trial bore ill-will against me per- 
 sonally, or even resented my quitting their side. They avoided 
 me, because they were in fear of my influence over their 
 hearts and minds. We remained friends, though apart for a 
 lifetime. 
 
 But, early or late, Manning was never oblivious of the 
 friends he had left behind him on the other side of the 
 bridge. True-hearted and affectionate as of old, his corre- 
 spondence with Eobert Wilberforce still continued to the 
 end. It ran like a golden thread through the web of ]\Ian- 
 ning's Anglican and Catholic life, linking the present with 
 the past. 
 
 The autumn of that memorable year, in which the event 
 ordained of God filled his heart with a spiritual joy beyond 
 the imagination of man, and changed the whole course and 
 character of his life, Manning spent in peace and gladness 
 of heart among his own kith and kindred. For, if all the 
 rest of his relatives held aloof from him, Mr. Charles 
 Manning, and Catherine, his wife, who was received into 
 the Church on the day her beloved brother became a priest, 
 received him with open arms and loving heart. At Pendell 
 Court, his brother's seat, near Bletchingly, Manning, no 
 longer troubled in mind and conscience, was the life and 
 soul of the place. It was the freshness and fulness of a 
 new life that possessed his soul and filled his heart with 
 gladness. At his brother's place. Manning, who was a good 
 judge of horses, was well mounted, and in company with his 
 brother and nieces rode day after day all over the country. 
 It was a time of thorough recreation for one whose mind 
 had been strained to the utmost, and whose heart had been 
 tried almost to breaking by human sorrows. Some of 
 those who were with him at the time remember well his 
 kindness of heart, his liveliness of manner, and his high 
 spirits. Manning, even in that time of retirement and
 
 636 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 quietude could uot altogether escape public notice or 
 criticism. 
 
 Some of his former friends contrasted the austere arch- 
 deacon in sober garb and shovel hat, solemn of gait and 
 absorbed in work, with the now Eoman priest, idle and light 
 of heart, who apparently had nothing better to do than ride 
 about tlie country by day, and relate under the trees in the 
 gloaming, to the delight of the company, reminiscences of his 
 early life or Oxford days, or of his travels in foreign parts, 
 or tell anecdotes, old and new. His sour-faced critics shook 
 their heads, and spoke already of " moral deterioration." 
 Manning, however, had the consolation of knowing that 
 many of his friends and penitents were already beginning to 
 follow his example. He had just heard from Laprimaudaye 
 of his wife's conversion : — 
 
 Pendell Court, Bletchingly, 
 16th September 1851. 
 
 My dearest Friend — God be praised for the letter you 
 sent me. It is all you can pray for. I think you must have 
 Annie home without needless delay ; too soon it cannot be. 
 
 Now let me have word at once what day to meet you in 
 London, next week. I have an engagement there next Wednes- 
 day, but I can come any day. Tuesday "will suit me well. 
 Monday, if I hear from you. 
 
 As you say the time is come, and with a ripeness which 
 bespeaks its author. — "With my love to you both, ever yoiu-s, 
 
 H. E. M. 
 
 From Lavington, where he was engaged in the melancholy 
 work of moving and of destrojdng papers. Manning wrote to 
 Eobert Wilberforce as follows : — 
 
 Lavington, Ath September 1851. 
 
 My dearest Robert — Your letter found me here in the 
 midst of the past. 
 
 I hope to be at Pendell on Saturday, and next week in 
 London. I should indeed rejoice to see you. 
 
 At the end of this month I propose to go to Abbotsford. 
 Can we not somehow meet ? Where can I see you without 
 harm? I write in great haste, being overdone with moving and 
 destroying papers. Write to me at Pendell (Bletchingly). — 
 Ever yours, dearest R., very aflfectionately, H. E. Manning.
 
 xxviii AN AFTERMATH 637 
 
 Manning's conversion in no way altered or lessened the 
 intimacy between him and Robert Wilberforce. There was in- 
 deed a certain change in their mutual relations. Manning no 
 longer wrote " under the seal of confession," and in the gift 
 of Faith which he had acquired, became now in his turn a 
 guide and teacher to Eobert Wilberforce, as the following 
 letter shows : — 
 
 4 Eaton Place, West, 28th September 1851. 
 
 My dear Robert — I was very glad to have your letter, 
 having been longing to hear from you. 
 
 We shall meet I trust, without fail, for I have been forced to 
 give up going to Scotland, and can only go to Rugby for this 
 week. Saturday I hope to be here again : ?lnd then to and fro 
 in and about London till I go abroad. Let me, therefore, know 
 your days and places, and I will make mine square with yours. 
 
 I do not dare to press you, dearest Robert, remembering what 
 were my own feelings. But I pray for you, and so do many 
 more. Neither do I talk to you about the peace I have, because, 
 as we agreed, a Swedenborgian might say the same. But I may 
 •say that six months — of which three have been spent in going- 
 over and over the same ground with others, sifting and re- 
 sifting everything, principle and detail, even more closely 
 than ever — leaves me more than ever profusely convinced that 
 the Church of Rome is the only true Church of God — and that 
 as a Teacher of Faith it is infallible. 
 
 I am distinctly convinced that over and above the evidence 
 of reason there is an illumination of Faith in which these things 
 are seen by their own light. What I wrote in March is true. 
 But to you this may sound as fanaticism. 
 
 Moreover I could never have dreamt of the sanctity of the 
 Church as I see it. All outside the Church seems to me 
 fragmentary and incoherent. 
 
 Surety it is the hand of God which has reproduced under 
 our eyes in the last two years the acts of the Reformation. We 
 see now what we should have seen then. We have seen the 
 Reformation as if we had lived in the reigns of EdAvard VL and 
 Elizabeth. Surely the Gorham case is no change. It is a 
 revelation. And Anglicanism is but Episcopal Protestantism, a 
 human society Avith human opinions. 
 
 Let me hear from you, dear Robert. — Ever Amours very affec- 
 tionately, H. E. Manning. 
 
 The following letter to Mr, Phillipps of Grace Dieu
 
 638 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 shows that the newly-ordained priest was ah'eady a much- 
 engaged man : — 
 
 Rugby, 1st October 1851. 
 
 My dear Mr. Phillipps — Your kind letter found me here 
 this morning, and I hasten to thank you for it. 
 
 Indeed I have never forgotten the dream I had in the 
 woods that night at Grace Dieu : and I have been longing for 
 it to come to pass. At one time I had hoped it Avould, for I 
 had made my plans to go to Ireland and then to pass over to 
 Abbotsford. On my way I had promised myself the enjoyment 
 of your kind reception. Such were my hopes, but they have 
 been overturned one by one. First I was obliged to give up 
 Ireland, then Abbotsford ; now I am compelled to be in London 
 on Saturday. This leaves me only two days, Thursday which 
 is engaged to the convent at Loughborough, and Friday at 
 this place. 
 
 It is needless for me to say how much I regret this. I feel, 
 too, that you ■\nll not need words to assiu-e you what sincere 
 enjoyment I should have had in coming to you, and in meeting 
 Mrs. Phillipps. I can only ask you to say this to her with my 
 kind regards. 
 
 If it so j)lease God, I hope next year I may still enjoy your 
 kindness. My time of leaving England will be in a few weeks. 
 
 Pray give my kindest remembrances to Sir Vere and Lady de 
 Vere ; and, with every good desire for you and yours, believe 
 me, my dear Mr. Phillipps, always yours affectionately in Xt., 
 
 Henry E. Manning. 
 
 The high opinion which Cardinal Wiseman entertained 
 of Manning's character, abilities, and holiness of life, cannot 
 be better illustrated than by the following anecdote : — At 
 a banquet given in honour of Cardinal Wiseman at Arundel 
 Castle, by the then Earl of Arundel and Surrey, there was 
 a large company, which included many recent converts, 
 among them Manning and Mr. Allies. In the course of 
 the evening, Cardinal Wiseman, speaking to Mr. Allies and 
 others, in allusion to Manning said : — " I hope soon he will 
 be one of us." 
 
 The confident tone in which Cardinal Wiseman spoke, 
 as well as the substance of the remark, made at the time a 
 deep impression on Mr. Allies, for Manning had only just 
 been made priest and had not yet commenced his theologi-
 
 XXVIII AN AFTERMATH 639 
 
 cal studies aud training. And yet, Wiseman was already 
 expressing a hope of Manning soon becoming a bishop. 
 
 Wiseman's hope, which was akin to a prophecy, may not 
 have been without its effect on Manning's susceptible 
 nature. 
 
 The time had now arrived for Manning to make his first 
 visit as a Catholic and a priest to Eome. He was accom- 
 panied on his journey by Mr. and Mrs. Charles Manning 
 and their family, and, among other friends, by the Hon. and 
 Kev. Monsignor Talbot, then a recent convert. 
 
 Before starting, he wrote the following words of farewell 
 to his brother : — 
 
 14 Queen Street, Matfair, 
 1st November 1851. 
 
 My dear Frederick — I write you a few words to bid you 
 farewell before leaving England. 
 
 Early on Monday I hope to start ; and my purpose is to stay 
 until April next. 
 
 This needs no answer, as it is only to convey my love, and I 
 know that I have yours. 
 
 May every blessing be with you both. — Believe me, my 
 dearest Frederick, yom- affectionate brother, 
 
 Henry E. Manning. 
 
 The chief events of this journey to Eome were set down 
 in Manning's Diary, from which a few extracts will suffice : — 
 
 3rd November, left London 1 o'clock ; Folkestone 3 ; 
 Boulogne 6. 
 
 4th November. — Said Mass at Church of St. Nicholas, Feast 
 of S. Charles Borromeo. First act of priesthood out of England. 
 
 5th November. — Amiens, with Bishop Gerbet, Veuillot ; 
 said Mass at Sacred Heart. 
 
 6th November. — Mass in Cathedral. 
 
 7 th November. — Paris, St. Roch. 
 
 8th November. — Notre Dame des Victoires. 
 
 From Paris, Manning and his travelling companions, of 
 whom no mention is made in the Diary, passed through 
 Chalons, where he met Mr. and Mrs. Ulwin, and Lyons, 
 arriving at Avignon on 12 th November, where he said mass 
 at the altar of Our Ladv, at which he remembered " seeing
 
 640 CARDINAL MANNING chap, xxviii 
 
 a priest give communion four years ago." Aubrey de Vere, 
 who had joined Manning on the journey, was received, 
 15 th November, into the Church, at Avignon, in the Arch- 
 bishop's Chapel. 
 
 15th November. — On Wednesday at St. Esprit, or by the 
 road, lost my bag with Avi-iting case, money, letters, and journals. 
 A sharp vexation. The letters and journals especially valuable. 
 
 But from this loss I desire to learn : 
 
 1. To mortify selfishness, and too gi'eat sensitiveness in 
 matters which touch myself. 
 
 2. To learn sympathy with others in their losses. I should 
 care little what they lost so that I lost nothing. 
 
 3. To learn detachment and love of poverty ; I have lost : 
 
 1. Money. 
 
 2. Journals. 
 
 3. Letters. 
 For the first, I ought only to trust. 
 
 For the second, to be less self-contemplative. 
 
 For the third, to be dead to earthly and natural affections. 
 
 After this severe and most vexatious loss, which included 
 his most treasured letters from Lavington, Manning, passing 
 through Marseilles, Genoa, Leghorn, reached Pisa on 19 th 
 November. 
 
 20th November. — Civita Vecchia : Mass at Cathedral. 
 
 Rome, 10 p.m., Minerva. 
 
 21st November. — Mass at Gesii Altar of St. Francis 
 Xavier. 
 
 29th November. — Vigil of St. Andrew. Interview Avith the 
 Holy Father at the Vatican. 
 
 I cannot more fittingly conclude Manning's old life as 
 Archdeacon of Chichester — the history of his life and work 
 at Lavington — than by leaving him where and what he now 
 is — a Priest in the Holy Roman Church — to begin at the 
 Vatican, at the threshold of the Apostles, a new life under 
 the shadow and shelter of Pope Pius IX.
 
 CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 CARDINAL WISEMAN'S LIFE AND WORK IN ENGLAND : CATHOLIC 
 EilANCIPATION : THE RESTORATION OF THE HIERARCHY 
 
 A RETROSPECT 
 
 To understand aright the after -career of Henry Edward 
 Manning, whom, at the happy close of his Anglican life, we 
 now leave for awhile studying theology m Eome — to ap- 
 preciate at their full worth his work and labours as Cardinal 
 Wiseman's successor, his difficulties and disappointments, his 
 early trials, his later successes and triumphs — it is necessary 
 to pass in rapid review the state and position of Catholicism 
 in England from Emancipation up to the time when, after 
 three centuries of conflict and confusion, Wiseman was sent 
 by Pope Pius IX, to build up anew the Church in England. 
 
 English Catholics were a scattered remnant of a mighty 
 people that had filled the land from sea to sea ; who had 
 laid deep the foundations of faith, had reared noble monu- 
 ments to the honour and glory of God and the worship of 
 His saints — glorious cathedrals and abbeys, detached chapels 
 and chantries and hospitals ; had founded and endowed seats 
 of learning, and upheld the Faith for a thousand years. 
 
 How came it to pass that a land once overflowing, in 
 the domain of religion, with milk and honey, had become a 
 " howling wilderness," a bare and horrid desert ; its ancient 
 abbeys in ruins, or, like Woburn Abbey, in the hands of 
 the spoilers ; its churches and cathedrals perverted from 
 their ancient uses ; its priests hunted for their lives like 
 foxes out of the land ? Whence is the smell of fire still 
 clinging to the blackened ruins of monastery or convent ? 
 VOL. I 2 T
 
 642 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 What is the trail of blood under the gibbets — or where 
 they once stood — in the Tower or at Tyburn Gate ? 
 
 I cannot find it in my heart to repeat to-day the awful 
 story of the religious persecutions of a bygone age. No 
 Englishman, Catholic or non- Catholic, can peruse such a 
 sanguinary tale with pulse unquickened by indignation. 
 His heart must needs burn with natural anger, his cheek 
 blush with shame, that men of his own race and blood, it 
 matters not whether they were Protestants or Catholics, 
 could have perpetrated in the holy name of religion such 
 inhuman barbarities. The only — not apology, for I have 
 none to offer — the only mitigation of these sanguinary 
 cruelties is, that the age in which they were committed was 
 in truth a barbarous age ; the laws on the statute-book of 
 England were barbarous and bloodthirsty, and the executors 
 of the law, sometimes the highest judges in the land, were 
 too often unjust and vindictive. Almost as a necessary 
 consequence of these wanton and wicked barbarities, com- 
 mitted under the public eye, the heart of the people had 
 grown so callous as to be unmoved by the sight of blood- 
 shed, by the smell of fire at the stake, by the hangings and 
 quarterings, by the display at Temple Bar, or the Tower, 
 or Tyburn Gate, of the heads of martyrs, like the venerable 
 and venerated Sir Thomas More, Cardinal Fisher, and so 
 many others, whose only crime was that they refused to 
 abjure, at the beck of a despot, the faith of their forefathers. 
 It was these prolonged and ruthless barbarities in one reign or 
 two which helped in the next — though that is no apology — 
 to light up the revengeful fires of Smithfield, which have left an 
 indelible stain on the reign of Queen Mary ; and of which such 
 an unfair use has too often been made to blur and blemish 
 the Catholic name in the mind of the people of England. 
 
 There is, however, one consideration which English 
 Catholics are in duty bound — bound in honour and justice, 
 in conscience and humility of heart — ever to bear in mind, 
 viz. that the Reformation owes its origin to the sins of 
 Catholics. In its early beginnings, it was the work of God's 
 anointed — apostate bishops, who at the bidding of a king 
 abjured their faith. Under Henry VIII.'s reign, the whole
 
 XXIX WISEMAN'S LIFE AND WORK IN ENGLAND 643 
 
 Episcopate of Euglaud, with one exception, apostatised. 
 What an awful act ! what a revelation ! How corrupt in 
 morals, how weak in faith, must not have been in those 
 evil days Church and Nation. Mohler, in his Sf/mholism, 
 lays down this axiom, " What a people is, such are its priests 
 and bishops." But the people of England were not as bad 
 as their bishops — shepherds who had deserted their flock. 
 Betrayed by their bishops, coerced by their king, partly 
 in ignorance, partly out of fear, the people of England — 
 after many futile attempts to maintain their faith, many 
 risings in arms which were quenched in blood by ruthless 
 Tudor tyranny — sullenly acquiesced at the end in the new 
 order of things. Yet the vast majority for a hundred years 
 remained Catholic at heart. Craumer, the Archbishop of 
 Canterbury, who had sworn fidelity to the Pope, Eidley, and 
 Latimer the Bishop of Worcester, the first Eeformers, were 
 the first Protestants. In the evil times which preceded 
 the Reformation, wealth and luxury, and lust their first 
 begotten, found a home in the bishop's palace, dwelt 
 in the heart of too many a priest at the altar, and at 
 times penetrated even into the monk's cell. Looseness 
 in faith, laxity in discipline, corruption in morals, and 
 last but not least, disloyalty to the Holy See, led to the 
 final and fatal catastrophe — apostasy. The apostasy of an 
 Episcopate ^ was the seed of the Reformation. In those evil 
 days, the Church in England — the mother of apostate bishops 
 — ought in contrition and humility of heart to have strewn 
 her head with ashes, beaten her breast, and cried out in a 
 loud voice : lied culpd, vied culpd, med maximd culpd ! The 
 ruling clergy — bishops with their Chapters, mitred abbots 
 and priors in too many of the more wealthy and corrupt 
 monasteries ; dissolute or ambitious ecclesiastics at the 
 Court — were far greater sinners than the people ; for cor- 
 ruption in the Sanctuary is a crime more abhorred of God, of 
 consequences deadlier by far, than corruption in the palace 
 of kings, or in the hearts and homes of the people. 
 
 ^ For the fact is not to be overlooked that the bishops of that day were 
 heretics as well as schismatics, for they deposed Bishop Fisher and put so 
 notorious a heretic as Scory in his See.
 
 644 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 But the Keformation, begotten of corruption — uut'aith, 
 avarice, and lust — must needs in the nature of things beget 
 children after its kind. And so it did, according to the 
 testimony of Luther, its father and master. Speaking of 
 some of the results produced by the Reformation, he said : 
 " "VVe see that, through the malice of the devil, men are now 
 more avaricious, more cruel,^ more insolent, and much more 
 wicked than they were under Popery." And again : " It is 
 a wonderful thing and full of scandal that, from the time 
 when the pure doctrine was called to light, the world should 
 grow daily worse and worse." 
 
 Calvin, Melanchthon, Bucer, among others, bear a like 
 witness to the evil consequences which attended and followed 
 the Reformation, the work of their own hands.^ 
 
 Had Luther remained faithful to his earlier inspirations, 
 he might, as a reformer of the gross abuses which prevailed 
 in the Church, have done, as Savonarola did in his day, 
 good service and true, and have anticipated in a measure 
 the reforms of the Council of Trent. Or had the Council of 
 Trent commenced its wholesome and sorely-needed reforms 
 a few decades earlier, Luther, perhaps, had not become an 
 apostate monk, nor the English Episcopate, all save one, have 
 abjured their faith. The horrors and evils of the Reforma- 
 
 ^ lu the reign of Henry VIII. a monk. Friar Forrest, was put to death in 
 the most cruel fashion because he refused to abjure his faith and acknowledge 
 the spuitual supremacy of the king. Latimer attended this revolting 
 execution. The martyrdom of Friar Forrest is recorded by Hollinshed in 
 the following passage: "After he was condemned, a paire of newe gallowes 
 was prepared for him in Smithfield. He was hanged by the middle and arm- 
 holes, all quicke, and under the gallowes was made fire, wherewith he was 
 consumed and burnt to death. There was also a pulpit prepared, in which 
 that renowned Hugh Latimer, then Bishop of Worcester, by diverse Scriptures 
 confuted the friar's errors, and witli manie godlie exortations moved him to 
 repentance ; but he would neither hcare nor speake." — Hollinshed, CJironide, 
 fol. 945. 
 
 - In a sermon preached before Edward VI., Latimer, in the following 
 passage, confirms the complaints of the first Reformers as to the gross im- 
 morality wliich prevailed among the children of the Reformation : "Lechery 
 is used in England, and such lechery as is used in no other part of the world, 
 and yet it is made a matter of sport, a matter of nothing, a laughing matter, 
 a trifle not to be passed on nor reformed. I will make suit to your Highness 
 to restore unto the Church the discipline of Christ in excommunicating such 
 as be notable offenders." — Heylish's History of the Reformation, p. 94.
 
 XXIX WISEMAN'S LIFE AND WORK IN ENGLAND 645 
 
 tiou, with its burnings and bloodsheddings, might, perliaps, 
 have been averted and no fires have been lighted, alas ! 
 by Catholic hands, in Smithlield. 
 
 "What Tertullian said of the blood shed in the persecu- 
 tions of the primitive Christians by the Pagans of old was 
 equally true of the blood shed by the Protestant Eeformers 
 in the reign of Henry VIII., Sanguis martyriim. semen est 
 Christianorum. For out of this seed, sown by the blood of 
 martyrs, sprang up in the Church new life, new fidelity, 
 new firmness in faith, so signally illustrated by the fact, 
 that in the Elizabethan persecution the whole Episcopate 
 of England, again save one, refused to abjure their faith 
 like Cranmer and his fellow -apostates in Henry VITI.'s 
 reign, and sooner than do so, were ready, like Cardinal 
 Eisher, to die on the scaffold or at the stake. 
 
 In our humaner age, the blood creeps at the sight of 
 wanton bloodshedding, the flesh shrinks from deliberate 
 cruelty inflicted on man or beast or bird. In no previous age 
 of Christian civilisation was life held so precious as in our 
 own day. I trust it will not be thought cynical to attribute 
 this virtue in part to the half-unconscious disbelief in an 
 after-life, in an after-world, where the wrongs or sufferings 
 of tliis world receive compensation in full and overflowing 
 measure. For if there be no other life than life on earth, 
 as, alas ! the Agnosticism of to-day contends, not to make 
 the most of it, not to look upon it as a gift beyond price, 
 not to guard it jealously against risk and danger, would be 
 the height of absurdity. As, to take away life deliberately, 
 the only life given to man, would be an unmitigated cruelty, 
 an uncompensated wrong. 
 
 But, happily for themselves and for the world, which 
 is still edified by their heroism, the English martyrs, in 
 their vivid belief in an after-life, looked for compensation 
 of their earthly sufferings to the imperishable crown of glory 
 reserved for them in reward of their steadfast faith in the Life 
 to come. Fortunately, I have not to deal for my present 
 purpose with the history of the martyrs and their ruthless 
 persecutors, but only with the ultimate results of Tudor 
 tyranny and religious fanaticism in stifling in blood and
 
 616 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 stamping out by prolonged and persistent persecution the 
 ancient faith which, for a thousand years before the Eeforma- 
 tion, had been the glory of the land, the pioneer of Christian 
 civilisation, the defence of the weak and oppressed, and the 
 hope and home of the poor. "When the Church in England, 
 after the cessation of the penal laws, came out of her ignoble 
 catacombs, though she still, indeed, preserved her divine 
 character, all her earthly glory had departed from her. 
 
 On his accession to the See, vacant by the death of 
 Cardinal Manning, Archbishop Vaughan, in reply to the 
 Address of the Clergy and Laity of the Diocese of West- 
 minster, gave the following graphic description of the state 
 of the Church in England at the time of the early begin- 
 nings of the Oxford Movement : — 
 
 " Marks of persecution were fresh upon her body, the 
 smell of fire was still upon her clothing. Her organisation 
 was abnormal and missionary, reduced to its lowest form, 
 as though England had been China or Japan. After ten 
 centuries of public praise her voice was low ; her divine 
 services cut down' to their bare essentials ; many of her 
 distinctive devotions and practices were either forgotten or 
 conducted in private, and, as it were, in silence, and with 
 closed doors. No kind of uniform, no outward mark of 
 distinction in her ministers was visible. The English Church 
 was like a ship on an angry sea, close reefed and battened 
 down, exposing as little surface as possible to the stiff gale 
 which was still only lessening." ^ 
 
 At that time the Church in England, instead of being 
 ruled, as in ancient days, to the glory of God and for the 
 salvation of souls, by bishops and archbishops who had 
 received as the symbol of authority the pallium from the 
 Holy See, was governed, in consequence of the penal laws 
 and their after-effects, by four Vicars-apostolic.^ Catholics 
 at the West End of London for the most part attended 
 Mass at the chapels attached to the Foreign embassies. 
 
 ^ Reply of the Archhisliop- Elect to the Address of the Clergy arid Laity of 
 the Diocese of Westminster, 1892, p. 5. 
 
 " Four districts under Vicars-apostolic — the London, Midland, Northern, 
 and Western — were created by Pope Innocent XI. in 1688.
 
 XXIX WISEMAN'S LIFE AND WORK IN ENGLAND 647 
 
 There was a chapel of the Portuguese Embassy in South 
 Street, Grosvenor Square; the Spanish Embassy had a chapel 
 in Spanish Place, Manchester Square; and the chapel of 
 the Bavarian Embassy was in Warwick Street, Golden Square, 
 later on kuown among Protestants as the " Shilling Opera 
 House " ; for the singers from the Italian Opera were in the 
 habit of singing, undeterred by their labours on Saturday night, 
 at High Mass on Sunday morning. The French Chapel in little 
 George Street, Portman Square, was supported by the exiled 
 Koyal House of Prance. The Due and Duchesse de Berri, 
 the Count d'Artois, afterwards Charles X., and the last of 
 the Cond^s, among many others, were regular attendants at 
 Mass on Sundays ; as, later on, in the whirligig of the 
 Eevolution, after the loss of the Crown which he had picked 
 up out of the gutter, were the Citizen King Louis Philippe, 
 and Queen Amalie. There were also the Sardinian Chapel 
 in Lincoln's Inn Fields ; and the Church of St. Patrick, near 
 Soho Square, devoted to the care of the Irish colony in the 
 courts and slums of the Seven Dials and of Drury Lane. 
 There was a small chapel, too, in Somers Town, where many 
 of the French dmigris resided, and another at Kensington, 
 There were many other missions in the East End, and over 
 the water. The chief chapel, however, was at Moorfields, 
 in the City, which was converted by Cardinal Wiseman 
 into his pro-cathedral. 
 
 Catholic life in the big cities and centres of industry 
 was even less developed than in the metropolis. In 
 Liverpool, for instance, there were only four chapels and 
 fourteen priests ; the chapel best known was the Field 
 Lane Chapel. Of the Catholic population of Liverpool, 
 there were 39,000 adults for whose spiritual wants there 
 was no adequate provision. Had they desired to hear 
 Mass on Sundays, the four chapels could not possibly have 
 contained them. Under such circumstances the Society of 
 Jesus set to work to build a church and found a school in 
 Liverpool. Their efforts were met by a strong opposition 
 on the part of the secular clergy. In the hope of over- 
 coming the obstacles thrown in the way of their work, the 
 Jesuits held a large public meeting and invited O'Connell
 
 648 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 to advocate their cause. But in spite of O'Connell's 
 eloquent advocacy the opposition continued. Counter- 
 meetings were held against the intrusion of the Jesuits. 
 The secular priests contended that the four chapels were 
 all heavily in debt, and that if the Jesuits opened a church, 
 the chapels would be deserted and ruined. The Jesuits 
 appealed to Eome. The secular clergy replied that their 
 opposition was prompted by no hostility to the Society, but 
 in order to protect the existing chapels from such a formid- 
 able rivalry.-^ Eome gave permission to the Jesuits to build 
 a church and school in Liverpool, on condition that they 
 were not to be opened for six years. 
 
 In the country, the scattered Catholic population generally 
 clustered round the seats of the Catholic gentry who possessed 
 a private chapel and supported a chaplain. Many of these 
 congregations were gathered together in the time of the 
 Penal Laws by the zeal and activity of the Jesuit Fathers, 
 who, at the risk of their lives, used to say Mass at the 
 houses of the Catholic gentry. They administered the 
 Sacraments to the surrounding population, and in this 
 manner the faith of the poor was kept alive during the 
 cruel ages of persecution. Many of these country congrega- 
 tions, established by the Jesuit missionaries, have in our 
 day grown into large parishes. The private chapel of Lord 
 Arundell of Wardour at Wardour Castle, for instance, like 
 so many others in different parts of the country, was the 
 source and centre of Catholic activity in the county, with 
 the happy results we witness to-day. 
 
 The Catholics of England were represented in the press 
 by The Dublin Review, founded in 1836 by Dr. Wiseman 
 and O'Connell ; by The London and Dublin Weekly Orthodox 
 Journal, established in 1837; and by The Catholic Magazine 
 of the same date. The establishment of these periodicals marks 
 the date of the beginning of tlie Catholic revival in England. 
 By his famous Controversial Lectures in 1836, Wiseman 
 awakened the Catholic spirit and guided the movement. 
 
 ^ An old priest in Liverpool said to F. Gallwey before his ordination, 
 ' ' Beware of debt ; the debt on our chapels is the sole cause of our opposition 
 to the Jesuits."
 
 XXIX WISEMAN'S LIFE AND WORK IN ENGLAND G49 
 
 I have already sufficiently indicated for my purpose the 
 influence possessed by TIic Diihlin Review, which, under 
 Wiseman, extended beyond the limits of the Catholic com- 
 munity. The Weekly Orthodox Journal was not what in 
 our days would be called a newspaper. It contained, how- 
 ever, reports of Catholic doings, such, for instance, as the 
 establishment of the Nottingham Catholic Library ; or the 
 foundation of the Burnley Auxiliary Catholic Institute; or, for 
 example, under " Foreign Intelligence," the Allocution of His 
 Holiness Gregory XVI., pronounced in the Secret Consistory 
 of the 8th of July 1839 — the famous Allocution condemn- 
 ing the Prussian Government for the imprisonment of the 
 archbishops of Cologne and of Gnesen and Posen. Its 
 pages were frequently enlivened and invigorated by Pugin's 
 pungent criticisms. 
 
 The Catholic Magazine, a monthly periodical, consisted 
 chiefly, not of original articles, but of translations of such 
 able papers as " Eome as it really is," by Gorres ; or of 
 " Letters from the Holy Land," appearing in the Annals 
 of the Society for the Propagation of the Faith. The first 
 part of the magazine contained during the period of their 
 delivery Pugin's famous lectures at Oscott on " Ecclesiastical 
 Architecture." It was occasionally embellished by portraits. 
 In its number of April 1838 it contains a fine engraving 
 of Cardinal Weld, who, aged 64, died at Eome, 10th of 
 April 1857. 
 
 Frederick Lucas, a convert from Quakerism, a brother- 
 in-law to John Bright, established in 1840 the Tablet 
 newspaper. Under his able editorship, and by his bold 
 advocacy of Catholic interests and claims, the paper soon 
 made a name for itself. It became more widely known by 
 a series of able papers on political economy. A short time 
 before he was elected Member of Parliament for the County 
 of Meath, Frederick Lucas transferred the Tablet to Ireland. 
 But coming into conflict with Dr. Murray, Archbishop of 
 Dublin, who, on account of the leading part they played in 
 political agitation, and more especially because of their con- 
 duct as electioneering agents, prohibited the priests of Meath 
 from taking public part in politics, Frederick Lucas appealed
 
 650 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 to Eome. In his opposition to Dr. Murray, Lucas bad 
 been supported by Cardinal CuUen, then Archbishop of 
 Armagh. Eome upheld Archbishop Murray's sentence of 
 prohibition. Frederick Lucas soon afterwards died. His 
 death was a great loss ; for he had obtained the ear of 
 the House of Commons by his ability and straightforward- 
 ness, and was an unflinching champion of the Catholic 
 cause. 
 
 On Frederick Lucas's death the Tablet passed into the 
 hands of John Wallis, an English barrister, who soon brought 
 the paper back to England, and fought many a doughty 
 battle in the Catholic and Conservative cause. 
 
 The Tablet to-day deservedly maintains a high position as 
 the chief representative paper of the Catholics of England. It 
 is justly regarded as an authority on religious matters by 
 the outside world, and is entitled by virtue of its position 
 to take high rank as an exponent of ecclesiastical politics. 
 The Tablet, loyal to the teachings and traditions of the 
 Holy See, upholds, against every comer and on every occa- 
 sion, Catholic and Conservative principles ; and, acting in 
 obedience to Papal briefs or Encyclical letters, condemns 
 and opposes everywhere, whether in Italy or in Ireland, 
 the principles of the Eevolution. 
 
 Again, public action carried on, if I may so call it, in a 
 domestic fashion, mainly among themselves, was not altogether 
 neglected by English CathoHcs. In 1838 " The - Catholic 
 Institute of Great Britain " was established by a meeting of 
 Catholics held in the Sabloniere Hotel, Leicester Square, at 
 which the Hon. Charles Langdale, M.P., presided. One of 
 its objects was the creation of a fund collected from the 
 Catholics of Great Britain to be applied to the erection 
 of chapels, to the circulation in a cheap form of approved 
 Catholic publications, and to the distribution of small tracts. 
 But its main purpose was to refute misrepresentations of 
 Catholic doctrine — the evil work, for the most part, of the 
 "Protestant Association"; to rebut the calumnious charges 
 not uncommon in that day, made or insinuated against the 
 private and social life of Catholics, especially of priests ; to 
 protect from oppression of every description the poor mem-
 
 XXIX WISE:\IAN'S life and work in ENGLAND 651 
 
 bers of the Church ; to secure to Catholic sailors, soldiers, 
 prisoners, to the sick in the hospitals and the poor in the 
 workhouses, the religious rights to which they are by law 
 entitled ; and to establish provision for Catholic lectures in 
 London by funds appointed for that purpose. 
 
 In the first year of its existence "The Catholic Institute" 
 achieved a great victory. A Catholic widow had inscribed 
 on the gravestone of her husband, buried in a Protestant 
 churchyard — since, of course, in those days Catholics had 
 no burial-places of their own — the simple " Pray for the 
 soul of Joseph "VVoolfrey." This inscription, which implied 
 the doctrine of purgatory, so scandalised the "Protestant 
 Association " and the Eev, J. Brecks, vicar of Carisbrooke, 
 Isle of Wight, as to lead to an action in the Ecclesiastical 
 Courts for its removal. The " British Catholic Institute " 
 took up the defence of the widow against the Protestant 
 Association and the vicar of Carisbrooke. The case of Mrs. 
 Woolfrey, as it involved the question whether purgatory 
 and praying for the dead were doctrines of the Established 
 Church or not, created almost as much excitement and 
 interest in the religious world as the Tichborne case excited 
 in our generation in the world at large. 
 
 Mary Woolfrey — I had better give for curiosity the articles 
 of citation — was cited before the Court of Arches to make 
 answer " to certain articles to be objected and administered 
 to her, touching and concerning the health of her soul, and 
 the lawful correction and reformation of her manners and 
 excesses, and more especially for having unduly and unlaw- 
 fully erected or caused to be erected a certain tombstone to 
 the memory of Joseph Woolfrey, deceased, and a certain 
 inscription to be made thereon, contrary to the articles, 
 canons, or constitutions, or to the doctrine and discipline of 
 the Church of England." 
 
 On the 12th December 1838, in the Court of Arches, 
 Sir Herbert Jenner, in pronouncing judgment in favour 
 of the Catholic widow, declared that " praying for the 
 dead was not contrary to the doctrine and discipline of 
 the Church ; for that there was no article or canon by 
 which prayers for the dead were expressly prohibited."
 
 652 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 The suit, which was a criminal proceeding, was dismissed 
 with costs.^ 
 
 After the mitigation of the Penal Laws in 1778 ; after 
 Catholic Emancipation ; and especially after the early be- 
 ginnings of the Catholic Eevival under Wiseman, the work 
 of founding new missions, and building churches and chapels, 
 went on increasing year by year to meet the spiritual wants 
 of a corresponding increase in the Catholic population. 
 The Catholic Directory and Annual Register of 1839, in a 
 comparative statement of the number of chapels registered 
 the previous year with that of the year 1839, shows an 
 addition of thirteen to the number of chapels, and three 
 new stations, where divine worship was celebrated — making 
 in all, of the former five hundred and thirteen — of the 
 latter, twenty. In the same year almost the first convent 
 founded in London since the Eeformation — though there 
 were convents and convent schools elsewhere in England, 
 and one at Hammersmith under the name " The Ladies' 
 School " — was that of the Sisters of Mercy at Bermondsey. 
 It was built by Pugin, the first of between sixty and seventy 
 churches, chapels, convents, and schools, which the Catholics 
 of England owe to his genius and his religious zeal. 
 
 Pope Gregory XVI. in 1840, at the suggestion or advice 
 of Wiseman, increased the number of Vicars -apostolic to 
 eight. ' In the following year the Society of " St. Vincent 
 of Paul," an Association of laymen founded in Paris by 
 Ozanam, was established in England. 
 
 Such, in the main, was the undeveloped life ; the lamed 
 and maimed action of the Catholic Church in the earlier 
 days of the Oxford Movement, which, under the grace of 
 God, was preparing such rich and ample materials — stones 
 for the hands of the master-builder — to help in the building 
 up again of the Church of God in the land. 
 
 Indirect means had been long contributing to the Catholic 
 Kevival in England. Walter Scott, by his love for the 
 Middle Ages ; by his more intimate knowledge of life in 
 
 ^ Archdeacon Manning, in his Diary of 1844-47, alhided to this judg- 
 ment in the highest ecclesiastical Court, as giving legal sanction to his helief 
 in prayers for the dead, which to his mind implied the doctrine of purgatory.
 
 XXIX WISEMAN'S LIFE AND WORK IN ENGLAND 653 
 
 those far-off Catholic days ; by his reverent spirit ; by his 
 touching and often pathetic descriptions of ruined Abbeys ; 
 by the reverential way in which he sometimes spoke of 
 monks and nuns, of priests and bishops, did much to break 
 down the anti-Catholic prejudice in England — the great 
 Elizabethan tradition, handed down from age to age, from 
 generation to generation. The poet, with his clearer vision 
 into the reality of things, was an unconscious pioneer in pre- 
 paring the way for the ultimate triumph in the heart of 
 England of Newman's work. For Newman's genius, his life 
 and character, brouglit about, if not the conversion of 
 England, which was beyond his hopes, the blessed result 
 of reconciling, over the ruins of the Elizabethan tradition, 
 the Catholics of England with their fellow-countrymen. It 
 was — if I may be allowed in a retrospect to make an 
 anticipation. Manning's chief office and merit to interpret 
 Newman's ideas — which Cardinal Manning did with infinite 
 skill in his own person, and by his acts — to the public 
 at large and to the official world of England. 
 
 The French Eevolution, in its orgies of 1793, co-operated 
 in its own abhorred and horrid fashion, more directly than 
 Walter Scott in his writings, to prepare the way for the 
 Catholic Eevival in England. Under the Reign of Terror, 
 French ecclesiastics who had escaped the guillotine, the 
 being cast stripped and bound into the deep waters of the 
 blood-polluted Seine, fled in terror of their lives, the hideous 
 cry A la lanteme — worse by far in character than the Pagan 
 cry Christianos ad leones — ringing in their ears, from 
 a blood and crime stained land. French priests in thousands 
 were cast upon our hospitable shores. Their presence 
 excited universal sympathy. They were received with 
 open arms by the generous-hearted people of England. 
 Men vied with each other in offering them shelter in their 
 misfortune. They were generously invited to take up their 
 abode in the homes of England. But these priests of 
 France were of too independent a spirit to become a burden 
 to their benefactors. Unaccustomed to a life of idleness, 
 when they could not find spiritual work they gained their 
 own livelihood by teaching French. Many, after having
 
 654 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 made themselves masters of the English tongue, on the 
 restoration of religious worship in France in 1804, re- 
 mained in England, as workers inspired with zeal for religion, 
 for which they had suffered exile from their own land. 
 These Confessors of the Faith helped to establish missions 
 all over the country, or assisted by their willing labours the 
 too scanty nimiber of priests in the chapels of the large 
 cities and towns. One French Abb^, in gratitude for the 
 kindness shown in England to the ^migrds, founded the 
 Catholic Mission in Hampstead, and built the present church. 
 For nigh upon half a century the venerable A\)b6 Morel 
 worked in this mission with edifying zeal and singular 
 success. His memory as founder of the Mission is ever 
 cherished by priest and people in grateful reverence.-^ 
 Another 4migr6 priest, Abbe ISTerrinkx, an intimate friend 
 of Abbe Morel, founded the church of St. Aloysius and, at 
 a later period, a convent at Somers Town, where so many of 
 his fellow-em-i^'r^s found a refuge, and some a new home for 
 life, and for work in the service of God. The Mission of 
 Tottenham had a more distinguished founder — the Abbe 
 Lefebvre de Cheverus. He afterwards went to the United 
 States ; became Bishop of Boston ; was recalled to France ; 
 was made Archbishop of Bordeaux, and created Cardinal. 
 
 The religious-minded people of England abhorred the 
 gross and abominable impiousness of the French Revolution ; 
 its bloodthirsty tyranny aroused supreme and general 
 indignation. The political sympathies of the country were 
 enlisted in favour of the Catholic Church and of the Pope, 
 especially later on, during the Napoleonic wars, when Rome 
 and England were firm allies in resisting the impious and 
 revolutionary movement in France. Political sympathies 
 were deepened and extended by the conduct of the French 
 4migr^. The Royal House of France, under the outrages 
 and misfortunes which it had suffered, comported itself with 
 noble dignity and proud reserve that extorted general 
 
 ^ Abb6 Morel was buried in the Church of St. Mary's, Hampstead, where 
 a monument was erected iu his memory. In the priest's house there is a 
 line portrait by the celebrated artist, tlie late Mr. Stanfield. Next year the 
 Centenary of the Mission founded by Abbe Morel is to be celebrated.
 
 XXIX WISEMAN'S LIFE AND WORK IN ENGLAND 655 
 
 admiration. The 6inigr^ priests, especially, by their forti- 
 tude and fidelity, by their humility and self-reliance, 
 by the fervour of their faith and their Christian culture, 
 won the hearts of all those with whom they were brought 
 into closer contact. To many an Englishman, who had 
 never in his life set eyes upon a Catholic priest, the coming 
 into close contact and friendly intercourse with one or other 
 of those French ecclesiastics seemed like the opening up 
 of a new revelation. The priestly character struck him as 
 something he had never seen or known before. He could 
 not account for the impression it left on his mind. It was 
 something quite apart from speech or manners, from per- 
 sonal dignity or gentleness ; it seemed perhaps to be con- 
 nected with the fortitude manifested in misfortune ; with 
 the faith and hope in the future which no adversity could 
 quench, no personal indignity dim. This spiritual character 
 in the first priest he had ever known, destroyed, in part, in 
 the mind of this non-Catholic gentleman, as it did in like 
 circumstances in the minds of many other Protestants — 
 for I am only quoting one typical instance — the hideous 
 picture of the Catholic priest handed down by the Elizabethan 
 Tradition. 
 
 But if France unconsciously bestowed on Catholicism in 
 England a choice gift in the form of her exiled priests, 
 the Eevolution in its impious fury struck, of set and fell 
 purpose, a deadly blow at Catholicism in England by sup- 
 pressing the English Colleges in France : Douay, founded 
 by Cardinal Allen for the education of Catholics in the 
 persecuting days which followed the Reformation ; and St. 
 Omer, where for many a generation English Catholics, free 
 from the dangers, material and moral, to which they would 
 have been exposed at home, were brought up in faith and 
 piety. At the Eevolution the Professors of these Colleges, 
 with the students, fled for their lives and found shelter in 
 England ; where, instead of founding a new college, as they 
 had at first contemplated, they joined, at Pitt's suggestion, 
 the College, or rather School, at Old Hall, near Ware, Hert- 
 fordshire. 
 
 To the Jesuits the Catholics of Enrfand owe an
 
 656 CARDINAL MANNING chap, 
 
 immense debt of gratitude, for it was due in no small 
 measure to their heroic zeal and devotion that, during the 
 long and bloody persecution, the Faith M'as kept alive in 
 the land. To say mass was a capital offence ; yet, holding 
 their lives in their hands, they fearlessly discharged the 
 holy offices of religion. To escape pursuit or discovery 
 they were often, in many a country house of England, 
 hidden away in subterranean closets, or in narrow apertures 
 between the walls, or secreted in out-of-the-way nooks or 
 corners under the gabled roofs. Many members of the 
 Society in those evil and angry days added their names to 
 the glorious bead-roll of English martyrs. At the time about 
 which I am now speaking, the Jesuits in London had no 
 chapel, only an Oratory in a small house in Poland Street ; 
 but the now famous College at Stonyhurst was in their 
 keeping. They did their best to promote in those days of 
 intellectual depression the ancient learning of the schools. 
 Ushaw in the north, Oscott and Downside, laboured likewise 
 under great difficulties. The isolation in which English 
 Catholics lived ; the seclusion in which the teachers and 
 students at Catholic Colleges passed their lives, beyond the 
 reach of the intellectual movements either at Oxford or on 
 the Continent, did much to a certain extent and in a certain 
 direction to dwarf and hamper the development of the 
 intellect and to deaden the faculties of the mind as regards 
 at any rate the higher and deeper studies. 
 
 A. rough-and-ready judgment on the results of the 
 teaching in the Catholic Colleges in England was pro- 
 nounced by one of the most intellectual of the Oxford 
 converts. In his good-humoured and paradoxical fashion, 
 W. G. Ward, not long after his conversion, made the follow- 
 ing caustic remark : — " Speaking in argument with English 
 Catholics is like talking with savages." ^ There was truth in 
 
 '■ Tiiis comparison had reference to some dinner-table conversations be- 
 tween Mr. Ward and a pompous, empty-headed priest, at the time invalided 
 from Woolwich with plenty of leisure on his hands, together with a not 
 unnatural liking for a good dinner. 
 
 A like judgment, passed at a somewhat later period, is recorded in 
 Mr. Wilfrid Ward's life of his father : — "When a Catholic meets a Protestant 
 in controversy, it is like a barbarian meeting a civilised man." This
 
 XXIX WISEMAN'S LIFE AND WORK IN ENGLAND 657 
 
 the sarcasm in the sense in which he meant it. Catholics 
 in England had not enjoyed, it must be remembered, the 
 advantages of a university education. Oxford and Cam- 
 bridge were closed against them. Neither had their wits 
 l)een quickened into life by the intellectual conflict, going 
 down to the roots of things, begotten of the Oxford Move- 
 ment and of the Catholic Eevival in France and Germany. 
 They were to a great extent unfamiliar with, perhaps rather 
 shy of, the profound theological and philosophical specula- 
 tions which Ward most delighted to discuss; and which 
 formed the intellectual foundation of the religious life of 
 their fellow-Catholics on the Continent. 
 
 For the most part the Catholics of England stood afar 
 off, beyond the reach of the rising waters of the new life, 
 intellectual and moral, which was awakening the souls of 
 men in France and Germany, in Italy and Spain. They were 
 content, if without doubt or question, without intellectual 
 imderstanding or philosophical defence, to hold the Faith 
 of their forefathers, burnt into their souls by the fire of 
 persecution. If they neglected its intellectual bulwarks 
 and outposts, they all, through the evil days, held the citadel 
 of the Spiritual Kingdom. They had handed down the 
 Torch of Faith from generation to generation. It had been 
 their office and their glory to keep burning the light of the 
 ancient lamp throughout the long days of darkness and 
 persecution up to the dawn of the New Day, which, but for 
 the heroic faith of our forefathers, perhaps, had never risen. 
 The fool in his folly mocked at them, because, forsooth, 
 their intellectual vision had grown dim in the prolonged 
 darkness of 300 years. 
 
 The Catholics of England bore themselves indeed in 
 those days as the sons of martyrs, heirs despoiled of their 
 heritage, the magnificent and mighty cathedrals, monasteries 
 
 remark occurred in a conversation with Mr. Jowett, and was preceded by 
 the following sentence which led up to the point: — "English Catholics 
 don't know what education means. Many of them can't write English." 
 Mr. Wilfrid Ward adds: — "And the peculiarities of the old-fashioned 
 Catholics, both priests and laity, afforded him as much amusement and as 
 many good stories as Dr. Jenkyns and the prim Oxford Dons had done in 
 earlier days." — William George Ward and tlie Catholic Bevvoal, p. 75. 
 VOL. I 2 U
 
 658 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 and churches, splendid symbols of the glory and power of 
 the ancient Faith. They were strangers in their own land, 
 exiled, as it were, from the noble seats of learning which 
 their forefathers had founded and endowed. Yet it did 
 not altogether lie in the mouth of the sons of Oxford, fresh 
 from the wreckage of a lost faith and an abandoned church, 
 to taunt the exiled sons of its founders with lack of learn- 
 ing. The Catholic Eevival in England did not owe its 
 origin to Oxford. The Catholics, as soon as the Emancipa- 
 tion Act was passed in 1829, began to stir. At first, they 
 could not come before the rest of their countrymen, but 
 they were moving ; certainly, the two movements were 
 concurrent, but for some time without knowledge of each 
 other. Oxford, perhaps, helped Oscott and encouraged 
 it ; but Oscott had begun of itself. Some of the converts 
 in those days, like W. G. Ward, used to complain of the 
 want of intellectual sympathy and understanding shown 
 by some Catholic bishops, notably by Dr. Griliiths, in 
 regard to the Oxford men. If Dr. Griffiths, who was 
 certainly a very prudent bishop, found no work to offer 
 to so zealous and intellectual a convert as Ward, it was not 
 from want of sympathy with converts, for to others he was 
 very kind and helpful.^ On the other hand, it ought in 
 fairness to be remembered that in his large-heartedness, 
 trustful zeal, and sympathetic knowledge of the special 
 trials of the Oxford converts. Cardinal Wiseman made 
 Manning, within ten weeks of his reception into the 
 Church, a priest; and sent him with the warmest of 
 encouragements to study ecclesiastical lore at its fountain- 
 head — the threshold of the Apostles. 
 
 But who and what was Wiseman, it might not un- 
 
 ^ lu a letter dated Arundel, 9tli December 1893, Mr. David Lewis, in 
 reference to Bisho]) Griffiths, wrote as follows : — " Dr. Griffiths, whom Ward 
 used to call 'Antichrist,' was a very cautious man certainly; but he was 
 very kind, and received me into the Church, and afterwards Mr. Macmullen 
 with the utmost kindness — glad ever to see us. He accepted Mr. Macmullen 
 at once, as candidate for the priesthood, and sent him to Rome. All the 
 convei'ts of those days were not saints, and they were not fit to rule or teach. 
 They had — I know I had — much to learn, but some of us wanted to teach 
 bishop and priest."
 
 XXIX WISEMAN'S LIFE AND WORK IN ENGLAND G59 
 
 fairly be asked in our generation. Wiseman, the story of 
 whose eventful life has never been told : whose name, since 
 the day of his funeral, when England, it is not too much 
 to say, followed him with sympathetic regret and admira- 
 tion to the grave, had never been uttered in public, at least 
 within Catholic hearing, until Cardinal Vaughan on his 
 accession to the See of Westminster made glad the hearts 
 of English Catholics by paying a noble tribute — an act of 
 justice — to the more illustrious of his two predecessors. 
 Magni nominis umlra is all that Wiseman apparently is to 
 the present generation. And yet, which of the Oxford 
 converts, with exception always of the illustrious John 
 Henry Newman, can be compared with Wiseman for 
 breadth of intellect ; for profound Biblical scholarship ; for 
 varied learning ; and for intimate knowledge of ecclesiastical 
 history from the earliest period down to his own day ? If 
 the universities of their own land were closed against them, 
 English Catholics, laymen as well as ecclesiastics, few in- 
 deed in number as must needs be the case, frequented 
 seats of learning in Eome, in France, in Germany, in 
 Spain and Portugal; Alban Butler, Bishop Challoner, and 
 Dr. Milner, products of St. Omer or Douay, were succeeded 
 by Dr. Wiseman, who amplified their traditions and enlarged 
 by his learning the range of their intellectual vision. He 
 had himself enjoyed to the full all the advantages of higher 
 education in Eome. He was not only a learned theologian, 
 but was everywhere recognised as one of the foremost Oriental 
 scholars of his day. The scattered remnant of English 
 Catholics had no reason to be ashamed of their culture 
 when they could reckon among their representative men 
 such names as Wiseman, and Lingard, the great historian of 
 England, and M. A. Tierney, F.S.A., who made his mark not 
 only as editor and reviser of Dodds's Church History^ but as 
 the author of a continuation of that History from 1688 to 
 the beginning of the present century, and Dr. Eock, the 
 great antiquarian and expounder of the Liturgy. Among 
 laymen, who carried on the tradition of culture, there was 
 
 ^ Dodds's CJourch Histwy was published under an assumed name, by the 
 Rev. Hugh Tootle.
 
 660 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 one at any rate — as I shall presently show — to whom the 
 Oxford converts owed a special debt of gratitude.^ 
 
 Concurrently with writing thoughtful and acute criti- 
 cisms on the Oxford Movement, which he watched and 
 followed with keenest interest, Dr. Wiseman delivered in 
 1836 a series of controversial lectures at the church of 
 St. Mary's, Moorfields, in which he expounded the doctrines 
 of the Catholic Faith and — unheard-of audacity — exposed 
 the inherent errors of Protestantism. These famous lectures 
 caused no small sensation among the mass of Protestants ; 
 and so highly were they thought of, that on their publication, 
 Dr. Turton, a Cambridge Professor of Divinity, and afterwards 
 Bishop of Ely, wrote in answer to them. The Tractarians, 
 who had already thrown popular Protestantism overboard, 
 and were holding up to scorn the Eeformation and the 
 first Reformers, hoped at first to find a powerful ally in 
 Dr. "Wiseman. But the great Catholic controversialist 
 recognised at once the weak point in the Tractarian theory, 
 and in his lectures on Puseyism pointed out with 
 considerable force that the acceptance by Tractarians of 
 Catholic principles involved the moral necessity of carrying 
 them out to their logical conclusions. Wiseman's article in 
 the Dublin Revieiv on the Donatists first disclosed to Newman 
 the weak point in the theory set forth in the Via Media.^ 
 
 Another invaluable contribution to the Catholic Eevival 
 in Oxford was given by an English Catholic, the late Mr. 
 James Burton Robertson, who received his higher intellect- 
 ual training under Lamennais at La Chenais, where Abb6 
 Gerbet, afterwards Bishop of Perpignan, was also a pupil, 
 and which was visited by Montalembert and Lacordaire, 
 at one time Lamennais's disciples. By his translation of 
 Schlegel's Philosophy of History, and still more by his 
 
 ' Mr. Robertson, afterwards appointed by Newman Professor of Modern 
 History at the Catholic University of Dublin, was the author of many learned 
 Works and Lectures, and did much, like Wiseman, to make known in England 
 at a critical period the Catholic Revival in France and Germany. 
 
 2 Newman, in a letter to Manning, dated October 1838, speaking of Dr. 
 Wiseman's article in the Dublin Review, says : — "Dr. Wiseman has laid his 
 finger on our weak point ; as Keble in his Sermon, and you in the Rule of 
 Faith, have exposed the weak points on the Roman Catholic side."
 
 XXIX WISEMAN'S LIFE AND WORK IN ENGLAND G61 
 
 translation of MiJhler's Symholism, Mr. Eobertson put 
 materials for forming a sound judgment of Catholic 
 theology into the hands of Oxford men otherwise beyond 
 their reach, for they were avowedly ignorant not only of 
 foreign languages but of the current of Catholic thought on 
 the Continent. In the masterly review of the intellectual 
 and religious state of Germany ; of its philosophical con- 
 flicts ; of the religious negation produced by Protestantism, 
 and of the Catholic Kevival, prefixed to the translation of 
 Mohler's Symholism, Mr. Eobertson did his part in 
 relieving English Catholics from the stigma of intellectual 
 apathy. The same writer, in a series of articles in the 
 Dublin Review, brought to the knowledge of Oxford Tract- 
 arians the works of the great masters of religious 
 thought — the authors of the Catholic Eevival in France and 
 Germany. It was from him they first obtained a knowledge 
 of such profound Catholic thinkers in France as de Maistre 
 and de Bonald,of Lamennais,the most subtle and philosophical 
 writer of his day, and, before his fall — a second Tertullian 
 — the most devoted upholder of the Papacy; of a 
 Catholic writer so brilliant as Chateaubriand, and of a 
 speaker and writer so powerful in thought, so bold and 
 enthusiastic in speech and action, as Montalembert ; and of 
 Eio, the famous reviver of Christian Art in France. In 
 France and Germany alike, art as well as philosophy, under 
 the impulse of the CathoUc Eevival, drew inspiration from 
 the traditions and teachings of Eome and the Popes. 
 
 The translator of Schlegel and Mohler — the first German 
 scholar of his day — moreover interpreted not only to 
 English Catholics but to the Tractarians of Oxford the 
 modes of thought current in Germany — the love and 
 reverence for Christian Art, the deeper study of history — 
 which led to numerous conversions, and of men so eminent 
 as Count Stolberg, the historian ; and of Frederick Schlegel ; 
 and of Novalis and Adam Miiller ; and which produced 
 such a profound thinker as Gorres, and such a master of 
 dogmatic theology as Klee ; and finally such a work of pro- 
 found thought as Mohler's Symbolism, which, in his Memoir, 
 Mr. Eobertson, who for many years was an eye-witness of
 
 662 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 the Catholic Eevival in Germany, declared, " created a 
 greater sensation than any theological work of the century." 
 
 In like manner, the author of the Catholic Eevival in 
 Spain, Donoso Cortes, the most profound thinker of his day, 
 was brought to the attention, if not of the British public 
 at large, at any rate of English Catholics and of Oxford 
 Tractarians. 
 
 Euo[in, the famous reviver in England of Christian art 
 and of Gothic architecture, if not a Catholic born, did not 
 belong to the Tractarian School, but received the grace of 
 faith and drew his inspiration in Christian art and archi- 
 tecture from a profound and loving study of the noble 
 cathedrals and abbeys built by our Catholic forefathers. 
 Attracted by the beauty of the City of Spires, Eugin came 
 as a Catholic to Oxford to preach to the Tractarians the 
 gospel of Christian Art and of the Eaith of Eome. By his 
 genius and profound faith in the Catholic Church, and 
 its ancient traditions, religious and artistic, he acted as 
 pioneer, pointing out to many the way which had led his 
 own heart and soul to Eome. 
 
 In putting forward a modest plea on behalf of English 
 Catholics before the flood — not of penal waters but of 
 Divine Grace — before the mighty inrush into the Church of 
 converts from Oxford and Cambridge had lifted up, out 
 of their weakness and obscurity, the scattered remnant of a 
 ruined Church — thrust out of the possession of the land, 
 out of the heart of the people, by force and fraud — let it not 
 for an instant be imagined that it enters into my mind to 
 under-rate in any way, by one jot or tittle, the immense debt 
 of gratitude which the Church in England owes to the 
 converts. Even in those earlier days, before the converts 
 from Anglicanism had become so completely assimilated, as 
 they now are, in thought and word, in heart and deed, with 
 the hereditary Catholics of England, there was not an 
 English Catholic with a grain of common sense or a spark 
 of generosity in heart or brain, who did not regard the 
 illustrious leader of the Oxford Movement and his noble- 
 hearted followers with love and reverence ; who did not 
 welcome them home to the Catholic Church as brethren in
 
 XXIX WISEMAN'S LIFE AND WORK IN ENGLAND 6G3 
 
 the bonds of Faith ; who did not sympathise with their 
 personal sufferings and sacrifices ; who did not strive to 
 lessen their isolation as strangers^ in the order of nature, in 
 a strange land. 
 
 The incoming of tlie converts was like the inrusli of a 
 strong wind into the close atmosphere in which the Church 
 in England lived and breathed ; or rather in which she was 
 stifled and straitened well-nigh unto death. Fresh from a 
 world of thought and action, in which they had played a 
 foremost part ; in which they had fought and suffered ; 
 they imparted to English Catholics new life and new 
 knowledge of life. New wine was poured into old bottles. 
 It speaks well for the old bottles — of the stuff they were 
 made of — that they did not burst under the rigorous strain, 
 or turn sour in the new fermentation. The converts, with 
 their freer thought, freer speech, readier initiative in action, 
 broke the silence in which the elder Catholics perhaps too 
 habitually lived ; roused them from their intellectual 
 acquiescence rather than apathy ; or startled, perhaps even 
 shocked on occasions, a reverent and demure priest here and 
 there, by their outspoken criticisms or personal comments. 
 I remember on one occasion, in response to some personal 
 criticism passed in conversation, Mr. Ward exclaiming, with 
 a hearty laugh: "Bravo! Mr. Eobertson; I thought it was 
 only we converts who called bad names." 
 
 The Oxford men acted as a wholesome leaven to the old 
 Catholic community. They imparted to the hereditary 
 Catholics of England — who had the defects of their virtues 
 — deeper views of life ; wider sympathies ; a higher sense 
 of public duty which as Englishmen they owed to their 
 country. They had been too long estranged from the 
 masses of their fellow-countrymen ; knew but little of 
 their wants and interests ; were out of touch with the 
 intellectual movement and public life of England. In their 
 stately homes in the shires, the hereditary Catholics of 
 England kept too much to themselves ; in London they 
 formed a society of their own, in which it was a rare 
 occurrence to meet a non-Catholic. Converts at first used 
 to complain somewhat bitterly of the exclusiveness of
 
 664 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 Catholic society. They expected to be received with open 
 arms and made at home in every Catholic house, and 
 were surprised to find that their title-deeds to admission 
 were sometimes questioned. This aloofness on the part of 
 English Catholics from the public and social life of England 
 was not altogether of their own fault. For the laws of 
 England had made exiles of their forefathers from public and 
 social life, and their sons still remembered and resented the 
 cruel wrong. Their standing aloof from a world, which had 
 disowned them, was due in part perhaps to pride, in part to 
 traditions inherited from the days of the Penal Laws. The 
 world knew them no more ; had forgotten all about them ; 
 and they were too proud or too shy to make themselves 
 known to their neighbours. 
 
 This unnatural state of things has long since been swept 
 away in no small measure by the influx into the Catholic 
 body of new blood — of new life ; by the effects of Newman's 
 genius and personality in obtaining for the Catholics of 
 England a fair hearing from their fellow-countrymen; by 
 the public action of Cardinal Wiseman in breaking down 
 the isolation and narrow insularity of English Catholicism ; 
 and last, but by no means least, later on — after substantial 
 victory had been gained — by the noble career, the public 
 spirit, the far-reaching and persuasive influence of Cardinal 
 Manning. His life was a crowning and successful effort in 
 breaking down the bars and barriers which, since the Ee- 
 formation, had separated English Catholics from the intel- 
 lectual movement and public life of England. 
 
 The converts, on the other hand, it must be admitted 
 were not always or altogether free from reproach or blame. 
 They sometimes turned out to be somewhat uncomfortable 
 neighbours. They were in too great a hurry to set all 
 things straight according to their own notions, in the 
 Church to which they had so recently submitted. They 
 were " appalled " by this shortcoming or that, real or 
 apparent. They were " astounded " that priests did not at 
 once understand their views, or relish their criticisms made 
 in good faith and out of pure zeal. Now and again, perhaps, 
 a somewhat straitlaced dignitary of the Church might look
 
 XXIX WISEMAN'S LIFE AND WORK IN ENGLAND 665 
 
 askance at the converts as a strange race of men not easy 
 to be understood, or ask the pertinent question, had these 
 men joined the Church not so much to appreciate or admire 
 as to find fault ; not to learn, but to teach ; not to obey 
 but to criticise their betters — their spiritual superiors ? 
 One or two, perhaps, by their fidgetinesses or flightinesses, 
 by their crudities and eccentricities, by their comings and 
 goings and comings back again, made themselves, if I may 
 be allowed to repeat to-day an irate old priest's impolite 
 designation — " a d — — nuisance " to their neighbours. 
 
 Gifted with a searching but sympathetic eye and pathetic 
 touch of hand, Newman has given us, from an outside point 
 of view, a touching and graphic picture of English Catholics 
 as they appeared in the early years of the century to " a 
 boy's curious eyes " : — 
 
 No longer the Catholic Church in the country ; nay, no longer 
 a Catholic community, but a few adherents of the old religion, 
 moving silently and sorrowfully about as memorials of what had 
 been. " The Roman Catholics " — not a sect, not even an interest, 
 as men conceived of it — not a body, however small, representa- 
 tive of the Great Communion abroad, but a mere handful of 
 individuals who might be counted like the pebbles and detritus 
 of the great deluge ; and who, forsooth, merely happened to 
 retain a creed, which in its day, indeed, was the profession of a 
 Church. Here, a set of poor Irishmen, coming and going at 
 harvest time, or a colony of them lodged in a miserable quarter 
 of the vast metropolis : there perhaps, an elderly person, seen 
 walking in the streets, grave and solitary and strange, though 
 noble in bearing, and said to be of good family and a Roman 
 Catholic. An old-fashioned house of gloomy appearance, closed 
 in with high walls, and an iron gate and yews, and the report 
 attaching to it that Roman Catholics lived there ; but who they 
 were, and what they did, or what was meant by calling them Roman 
 Catholics, no one could tell, though it had an unpleasant sound, 
 and told of form and superstition. And then, perhaps, as we went 
 to and fro looking with a boy's curious eyes through the great city, 
 we might come to-day upon some Moravian Chapel or Quakers' 
 meeting-house, and to-morrow on some chapel of the Roman 
 Catholics, but nothing was to be gathered from it except that 
 there were lights burning there, and some boys in white sAvinging 
 censers ; and what it all meant could only be learned from books, 
 from Protestant history and sermons, and they did not report well
 
 666 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 of the " Eoman Catholics," but, on the contrary, deposed that they 
 had once had power and had abused it. And then, again, we 
 miglit on one occasion hear it pointedly put out by some literary 
 man, as the result of his careful investigation, and as a recondite 
 point of information which few knew, that there was this 
 difference between the Eoman Catholics of England and the 
 Roman Catholics of Ireland, — that the latter had bishops, and 
 the former were governed by four officials called Vicars- Apostolic. 
 Such was about the sort of knowledge possessed of Christianity 
 by the heathen of old time, who persecuted its adherents from 
 the face of the earth, and then called them a gens lucifuga, a 
 people who shunned the light of day.^ 
 
 Such a state of things as that described by ISTewman as 
 existing among English CathoHcs about the period of the 
 battle of Waterloo had long since passed away. Catholic 
 Emancipation, obtained by O'Connell had made the existence 
 of English Catholics, of their claims and rights, known to 
 the Government, to Parliament, and in a measure to the 
 public at large. English Catholics became members of 
 Parliament. Philip Howard, of Corby Castle, w^as member 
 for Carlisle; Charles Langdale found, I think, a seat in 
 Lancashire, and as the representative of English Catholics 
 did yeoman's service on their behalf in the House of 
 Commons. The literary world recognised in Lingard a 
 deeply-read and accurate historian. The history of the 
 Eeformation, written by a Catholic priest, though it naturally 
 not only excited curiosity but at first suggested scepticism, 
 was finally accepted as impartial and authentic. 
 
 Wiseman's lectures on the Connection hehveen Science 
 and Revealed Religion bore witness in the learned world 
 to the intellectual activity of English Catholics. " He was," as 
 Cardinal Vaughan with a true appreciation of his varied gifts 
 justly describes him,^ "a prelate of the largest sympathies, 
 of a broad and highly-cultivated and many-sided mind." He 
 was gifted with a rich imagination, which imparted warmth, 
 colour, and light to his lectures, speeches, and sermons. 
 His style, maybe, was somewhat too florid altogether to satisfy 
 
 ^ Newman's Occasional Sermons, p. 172. 
 
 - Reply of the Archbishop- Elect to the Address of the Clergy and Laity of 
 the Diocese of Westminster, 1892, p. 6.
 
 XXIX WISEMAN'S LIFE AND AVORK IN P:NGLAND 6G7 
 
 a severe and chastened taste. But his argumentative 
 powers, his critical keenness, and force and directness 
 of speech, made ample amends for whatever was otherwise 
 amiss. The story of Fabiola bears striking witness not only 
 to a rich and picturesque imagination but to dramatic 
 powers. What however made him best known and most 
 popular with the English public was his talents as a lecturer 
 alike to learned societies and to popular audiences. Known 
 as a warm admirer and careful student of Christian Art and 
 Mediaeval Architecture, Wiseman's lectures on art were 
 always largely attended. Under the spell of his picturesque 
 presentation of his subject, his rich embellishments drawn 
 from varied sources and the critical familiarity with which 
 he dealt with its details or varieties, the attention of his 
 audience never flagged. They showed their deep apprecia- 
 tion not only of his powers as a lecturer, but of his personality, 
 by the enthusiastic applause with which he was invariably 
 welcomed and acclaimed. In this fashion, the Eoman 
 Cardinal and the people of England came to understand and 
 appreciate each other. 
 
 Pugin, the prime mover of the revival of Gothic archi- 
 tecture, was not only electrifying the artistic world by 
 caustic criticisms on false principles in art and archi- 
 tecture, carried out with such grotesque results by the 
 self-styled masters of the art, but was actually building 
 a Catholic and Gothic cathedral in London.-^ The funds 
 for this costly undertaking were collected by " Father 
 Thomas," ^ head priest of a little chapel in the London Eoad, 
 afterwards Canon and Provost of St. George's Cathedral, 
 Southwark. He travelled throughout Catholic Germany 
 
 ^ St. George's Cathedral, Southwark, was opened in the autumn of 1848. 
 
 ^ Father Thomas was that zealous and self-sacrificing priest who, during the 
 terrible outbreak of cholera in London in 1833, not only administered the last 
 sacraments to the dying, but lifted with his own hands into coffins or carts 
 the bodies of the dead, Catholics and Protestants alike, deserted in that day 
 of panic by their friends and relatives — wives by their husbands, children by 
 their parents. To aid Father Thomas Doyle, the zealous Catholic priest, in 
 his arduous work of tending cholera-stricken patients all along the river- 
 side, from Lambeth to Rotherhithe, a public subscription was opened in the 
 Times, headed by a subscription from the Duchess of Kent, the mother of the 
 future Queen of England.
 
 668 CARDIlSrAL MANNING chap. 
 
 and Austria, and received large donations from the King 
 of Bavaria and the Emperor and Empress of Austria, He 
 did more — he enlisted the aid and sympathies of the bishops 
 of Germany and of the leading Catholics in literature or art 
 with the progress of Catholicism in England. 
 
 The sap of new life was rising in the trunk of that 
 mighty tree which had stood the storm for three hundred 
 years. It was shorn indeed of its ancient beauty; its 
 boughs and branches had long since been torn off; the 
 comeliness of its goodly proportions had departed. Though 
 beloved of its own, strangers knew it no more. Yet the 
 roots of this Tree of Life — the ancient faith of the land — 
 still struck deep in the soil ; like dew from Heaven, after the 
 long spiritual drought of three hundred years came the 
 revivifying results of the Oxford Movement — the return of 
 so many chosen souls, the elect of God, to the shelter of that 
 ancient spiritual tree, — the Faith of their forefathers. 
 
 In the midst of this reviving life in English Catholicism, 
 Wiseman, Eector of the English College in Eome, who was 
 not only an able controversialist, but an oriental scholar of 
 eminence and a profound theologian, was sent by Pope 
 Gregory XVI. to England. As president of Oscott, in suc- 
 cession to Dr. Weedall, all Wiseman's varied gifts and 
 powers were brought into play. His zeal, intellectual 
 activity, and profound learning stimulated and directed the 
 studies at Oscott ; and, at the same time, far beyond the 
 college walls gave an impulse to the Catholic revival in 
 England. 
 
 In 1840, Dr. Wiseman was consecrated bishop, and 
 appointed coadjutor to Dr. Walsh, Vicar-Apostolic of the 
 Midland district. For seven years he was the centre of 
 Catholic activity and influence ; and Birmingham became 
 the headquarters of the Catholic movement. His cor- 
 respondence was large and of extreme interest. He was in 
 frequent communication with some of the leading Tractarians; 
 received visits from time to time from those who were in 
 doubts as to the Oxford Movement, or sought information 
 as to Catholic teaching and theology. They who had a 
 personal knowledge of Wiseman's manner and bearing, who
 
 XXIX WISEMAN'S LIFE AND WORK IN ENGLAND 669 
 
 remember still the warm aud kindly interest he showed to 
 those who came to consult him ; his simplicity and open- 
 heartedness, the thoughtfulness which averted misunder- 
 standing or pain, can alone estimate the influence which his 
 genial character exerted over all who came in closer contact 
 with him. 
 
 His numerous letters to men and women of culture, 
 Protestant as well as Catholic, on literary, antiquarian, and 
 artistic subjects, reveal in a delightful fashion the many- 
 sidedness of his mind. Most important of all, naturally, were 
 his constant and intimate communications with Eome. In 
 these numerous letters every subject of Catholic interest in 
 the early part of the century now near its close was fully 
 discussed and recorded. The prospects of the future, the 
 difficulties of the day, were set out at large, as well as the 
 personal opposition which he had to encounter on his first 
 coming to London in 1847. It was when he was Coad- 
 jutor of the Midland district that he induced Newman to 
 establish the Oratory of St. Philip Neri at Birmingham. 
 Bishop Wiseman had a profound admiration for the genius, 
 character, and self-forgetful abandonment of the illustrious 
 convert. When Wiseman left Birmingham hie strove hard 
 but in vain to induce Newman to follow him to London. 
 The founder of the English Oratory having been invited by 
 Wiseman to set it up in Birmingham, had an invincible 
 repugnance to desert or remove his infant community. 
 
 Dr. Wiseman was in Eome on the death of Dr. Griffiths 
 in 1847, and was appointed by Pope Pius IX. to succeed 
 him in the London district. On coming to London as 
 Pro- Vicar- Apostolic a strong and sharp opposition was raised 
 against Dr. Wiseman. Many of the elder and more in- 
 fluential priests were infected, more or less, with the 
 Gallican spirit. Not a few of the laity, under the influence 
 of Mr. Charles Butler, the founder of the Cisalpine Club, 
 looked upon Wiseman as the embodiment of Ultramontanism, 
 and resented his intrusion, as they called it, into the London 
 district. Some of the leading priests were alarmed. They 
 had regarded the late Vicar-Apostolic, Dr. Griffiths, as 
 pacific and harmless ; they knew he had opposed the
 
 670 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 Jesuits and refused as long as he was able their admission 
 into the London district.^ On the other hand, Dr. Wiseman 
 was denounced as aggressive, and was known to be a friend 
 of the Jesuits. 
 
 Dr. Maguire was one of the chief of the malcontents ; 
 another, Mr. Wilds, the senior priest of the Warwick Street 
 Chapel, as it was called in those days, and Mr. Sisk of 
 Chelsea and many others, were ready to form an organised 
 opposition. Am ong the keenest of Wiseman's opponents 
 was Mr. Tierney. He was the ringleader. On the sudden 
 Mr. Wilds changed his mind, carried Dr. Maguire with him, 
 and then Mr. Sisk. Mr. Tierney and the rest could not go 
 on without their aid and countenance. The whole opposition 
 ended in London ; though it only slumbered in South wark 
 and did not die until a much later period. Indeed, long- 
 after the restoration of the Hierarchy, during the struggle to 
 remove Dr. Errington and to appoint a new coadjutor to 
 succeed Cardinal AViseman, Mgr. ]\Iauning, in his letters to 
 the Vatican, used to complain of the Galilean spirit of the 
 Chapter of Southwark, one of whose members was Mr. 
 Tierney. 
 
 On overcoming the opposition raised against him by some 
 of his clergy, Wiseman's first work as Vicar- Apostolic was to 
 revive the Catholic spirit and ancient devotions of the Church, 
 forgotten or neglected during the days of persecution and 
 since. For instance, the Eosary was publicly recited only 
 in a few of the chapels of London, beyond those founded by 
 the French Abbes, and in the G-erman Chapel, Bow Lane, 
 City. Wiseman was before all things a churchman, inspired 
 with lofty spiritual ideals. He was imbued to the finger-tips 
 with Eoman ideas and principles. He introduced into 
 England, besides spiritual retreats and missions, the Exposi- 
 tion of the Blessed Sacrament, the devotion of the " Forty 
 Hours' Adoration," and the habit of more frequent commu- 
 nion. He was a strict disciplinarian in regard to the observ- 
 
 ^ Bislioi) Griffiths, with Dr. Cox, President of Okl Hall, went to Rome in 
 1843 protesting that he did not find it in his conscience to allow the Jesuits to 
 found a Mission at Farm Street. Pope Gregory XVI. is said to have retorted, 
 " I am surprised you find it in your conscience to disobey the Pope's orders."
 
 XXIX WISEMAN'S LIFE AND AVORK IN ENGLAND G71 
 
 ance of the ritual, which had almost fallen into desuetude, 
 or at best was performed in a careless or slovenly manner. 
 
 On the restoration of the Hierarchy in England, in con- 
 ception and execution the result of his fruitful labours, 
 Cardinal Wiseman began the work to which he was 
 called — the laying anew and the laying deep of the 
 foundations of the Church in England. Wiseman's first 
 duty was to confront the violent opposition raised against 
 him, mainly in the first instance by Lord John Eussell's 
 fanatical letter to the Bishop of Durham. In his insolent 
 audacity Lord John even threatened to prevent Cardinal 
 Wiseman's landing in England. Such idle threats only 
 provoked contempt or ridicule. This sudden fanatical out- 
 burst took Wiseman completely by surprise, for, before 
 leaving England for Eouie in the previous autumn, he had 
 spoken with Lord John Eussell on the subject of the con- 
 templated Restoration of the Hierarchy. How the " No 
 Popery " agitation spread like wildfire throughout the country 
 I have already related. Threats were uttered about renewing 
 the burnings of the Lord George Gordon riots. St. George's 
 Cathedral, Southwark, where Cardinal Wiseman had taken up 
 his temporary abode, was guarded by day and by night by a 
 stalwart band of Irishmen, ever ready for a fray, especially 
 in so good a cause. His "Appeal to the common sense of 
 Englishmen," which filled nearly eight columns of the Times, 
 had an almost instantaneous effect. Wiseman spoke out 
 boldly ; his arguments were telling, and he showed through- 
 out such good humour and kindly feeling as to disarm the 
 opposition of reasonable men. It speaks well for the common 
 sense and love of justice and fairplay of the people of England 
 that they soon rallied from such a fierce and sudden attack 
 of fanaticism. 
 
 In a letter to Archdeacon Manning, who at that time 
 stood hesitating on the brink of the deep waters, Mr. 
 Gladstone expressed a desire that in bringing in his 
 " Ecclesiastical Titles Act " Lord John Eussell might appear 
 " in the garb of a harlequin." This futile Act, in spite of the 
 strong opposition of Mr. Gladstone, and of Cobden and 
 Bright, and many others of that school, was placed on the
 
 672 CARDINAL MANNING chai-. 
 
 Statute Book. But it was from the first a dead letter. It 
 was never acted upon ; not very many years ago, like rubbish, 
 its ridiculous remains were carted away and flung into the 
 common dust-bin. 
 
 Although he approved of prayers and hymns in English, 
 during the evening service introduced by Father Faber at 
 the Oratory, King William Street, Cardinal Wiseman 
 prohibited, as contrary to the ritual, the interpolation of 
 prayers in English at Mass, Vespers, and Benediction. On 
 one occasion during the " Forty Hours' Adoration," at the 
 Sardinian Church, Lincoln's Inn, the priest recited prayers 
 in English from the pulpit, and English hymns were sung ; 
 on hearing of this. Cardinal Wiseman at once prohibited the 
 practice. 
 
 Before he was consecrated bishop in 1840, as Coadjutor 
 of Dr. Walsh, Vicar- Apostolic of the Midland district, Dr. 
 Wiseman made a Retreat with the Passionist Fathers in 
 Eome. During this Retreat he made four resolutions.^ 
 One was that daily mass, which, owing to various causes, 
 had to a large extent fallen into abeyance, should be said 
 by every priest in every chapel. On coming to London as 
 Pro-Vicar- Apostolic in 1847, Bishop Wiseman did his utmost 
 to promote the revival of daily mass as a universal rule. 
 Only in twelve of the larger Missions of the London 
 District was mass said daily ; in all the others only once 
 or twice a week. It was often announced on Sunday 
 mornings, that in the following week mass would be said 
 on the Wednesday and Friday. Of course many priests 
 said mass daily in many churches. But the universal 
 rule of daily mass was one of the happiest results of Dr. 
 Wiseman's action in the revival of religious fervour.^ One 
 of the greatest debts of gratitude which English Catholics 
 owe to Cardinal Wiseman's rule was the introduction of the 
 ancient Monastic Orders, both of men and women, as well as 
 
 ^ The following were the four resolutions ; — 1. To have the Retreat of the 
 clergy well conducted. 2. To have mass daily in every chapel under his 
 rule. 3. To promote devotion to the Blessed Sacrament by Exposition and 
 the Forty Hours' Adoration. 4. To multiply Religious houses. 
 
 - To a living witness, Provost Hunt declared that he remembered well the 
 time when it was rare to have daily mass in London.
 
 XXIX WISEMAN'S LIFE AND WORK IN ENGLAND 673 
 
 the establishment of new communities suited to tlie special 
 want of the times. With the Jesuits Wiseman always main- 
 tained a cordial understanding, and was eager to give them 
 every facility to extend the special work of the Society — 
 higher education — so much needed in the restored Church in 
 England at that time. 
 
 Cardinal Wiseman was a fervent admirer of Christian 
 art and Gothic architecture/ and highly appreciated Pugin's 
 artistic work and his zeal in reviving a purer taste. 
 
 A Liliputian war, however, soon broke out between the 
 "Goths and anti-Goths." The converts looked upon Gothic 
 architecture, which for the most part indeed they had admired 
 and advocated at Oxford, as specially identified with Anglican- 
 ism, and therefore as an anti-Catholic movement. In their 
 zeal, untempered by discretion, they looked to Eome for the 
 model on which Catholic churches in England should be built. 
 Hence, more Koman than Cardinal Wiseman, they insisted 
 that bastard basilicas, a style imported from abroad, were 
 more fitted for Catholic worship than the ancient and 
 glorious cathedrals of our own land. This fierce internecine 
 strife between Catholics, old and new, I suppose was a sign 
 of healthy life, for, as men grow stronger and more capable 
 of taking in new ideas, they are apt, since they are only 
 men and not saints, to fall out with one another, and come, if 
 not to blows to words. But words break no bones, though they 
 sometimes break hearts, teste the poet Keats and the Quar- 
 terly Eeviewer, or O'Connell and the Young Ireland party. 
 
 A more difiicult and delicate point which Wiseman had 
 to confront was the lingering taint of Gallicanism to be 
 found here and there among English Catholics. Charles 
 Butler and the Cisalpine Club, which was set up in opposi- 
 tion to Ultramontanism, had left a trail of evil. This 
 Gallican spirit was exhibited by a few men of note who 
 joined in public protests against " Papal Aggression." Lord 
 Beaumont, a member of the House of Peers, wrote and spoke 
 with vehemence against the Eestoration of the Hierarchy, 
 describing it as "an ill-advised measure, which forced upon 
 Catholics the alternative of breaking with Kome or of 
 
 ^ See Cardinal Wiseman's Lectures on Art, and articles in the Dublin Review. 
 VOL. I 2 X
 
 674 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 violating their allegiance to the constitution of these realms." 
 The Duke of Norfolk of that day in a public letter declared 
 that Ultramontane opinions are totally incompatible with 
 allegiance to our sovereign and with our constitution. This 
 ill example was followed here and there by a few other 
 Catholic laymen. The clergy, at least the majority, were 
 sound at heart. The Galilean spirit lurked indeed here 
 and there, as I have already shown, among some of the older 
 priests. It was the final struggle, the death-gasp of 
 Gallicanism among English Catholics. The restoration of 
 the Catholic Hierarchy exorcised its evil spirit. 
 
 Opposition to Cardinal Wiseman was shown also in 
 another fashion, amusing and ridiculous enough were it not 
 so contemptible. A few washed-out Catholics in social life 
 were annoyed beyond measure that during the height of the 
 " No Popery " agitation religious discussions were impolitely 
 protruded into pleasant social gatherings, routs, dances, and 
 dinner parties. They condoled with each other, old women 
 of either sex, in feminine feebleness, saying with a sob in the 
 voice, " We were all so comfortable, living together in peace 
 and quietness until that horrid Dr. AViseman — for they 
 could not bring it into what they called their hearts to call 
 him Cardinal — caused all this fuss. Until now, our friends 
 and neighbours did not even know that we were CathoHcs." 
 
 Not to be known to be Catholics, what a confession ! 
 what a self -revelation ! It was the first, far step — though 
 these faint-hearted Catholics would have been horrified at 
 the imputation, towards the desire not to he Catholics. 
 
 The challenge to Catholics to make public profession of 
 their faith and to stand by it, which Cardinal Wiseman 
 brought from Eome, was only just not too late. The spirit 
 of worldliness was spreading amongst English Catholics of 
 the higher ranks. Public profession of faith, not to speak 
 of its practice, was becoming irksome to many. Leakage 
 had set in. In like fashion, after Catholic Emancipation, 
 there was considerable backsliding. Catholics, who under 
 the penal laws would have laid down their lives rather than 
 abandon the Faith, after Emancipation quietly dropped out 
 of the Church, The pleasant ways of life were opened up
 
 XXIX 
 
 WISEMAN'S LIFE AND WORK IN ENGLAND 675 
 
 to them ; and they succumbed to the spirit of worklliness. 
 Again, the restoration of the Hierarchy was a challenge to the 
 people of England, bidding them listen to the message 
 which the Church had to deliver. England picked up the 
 glove in defiance and Hung it in the face of the challenger. 
 No matter for that, England had to look at the Church, face 
 to face. The tumult soon subsided. The Divine message 
 was delivered. The result was, that men in large numbers, 
 among them many of the greatest and noblest of England's 
 sons, Archdeacon Manning first and foremost of them all — 
 the first-fruits of the " No Popery " agitation — submitted to 
 the Church of Rome. 
 
 What Wiseman would have done in the achievement of 
 his great work of building up the Church anew without the 
 aid of the Oxford converts it is difficult to surmise. They 
 were men ready-made to his hand. Their numbers, con- 
 stantly on the increase, added year by year fresh materials. 
 Newman, who had already established the Oratory of 
 St. Philip Neri in England, and opened a church at Bir- 
 mingham, was giving effectual support to Wiseman's work by 
 delivering those famous lectures on "Anglican Difficulties" 
 in the little Chapel of the London Oratory, King William 
 Street, Strand. Every Thursday and Friday afternoon during 
 the autumn of 1851, the chapel was crowded from end to 
 end. Eepresentative men in literature and law, in art and 
 religion, crowded to listen to the illustrious convert, the late 
 leader of the Oxford Movement, explaining the difficulties 
 which beset Anglicans and stood in the way of their hearing 
 or obeying the Divine caU. Among many other well-known 
 men, Thackeray and Charles Dickens were entranced by the 
 exquisite humour and touching pathos displayed by Newman, 
 or by his deKcate irony or keen sense of humour ; Father 
 Faber, as head of the London House — it was at that time 
 one with the Oratory at Birmingham — surpassed Wiseman's 
 hopes and expectations in inspiring English Catholics with 
 a fuller and deeper religious spirit, by setting before them 
 in his sermons and lectures higher ideals of spiritual life. 
 
 To put a stop, I believe, to a prolonged Irish religious 
 squabble which threatened to develop into a puny schism.
 
 676 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 he sent Frederick Oakeley to far-away Islington, beyond 
 the reach of his friends and followers at Margaret Street 
 chapel — beyond the influences which his nearer presence 
 would undoubtedly have exercised over their hearts and minds. 
 Like a holy and zealous priest, he did however good work 
 among uncongenial surroundings. He spent his life and 
 labours in the parish, attending with unremitting care to 
 the wants and interests of his people, more especially of the 
 young and the poor, though he contributed by his able 
 writings to the defence and advancement of the Catholic 
 cause in England. Cardinal Wiseman eagerly availed him- 
 seK of W. G. Ward's great intellectual powers and profound 
 studies in theology and philosophy, by appointing him, though 
 a layman. Professor of Dogmatic Theology at the college of 
 St. Edmund's or Old Hall. Another eminent convert, Mr. 
 Allies, who, by resigning the rectory of Launton on becoming 
 a Catholic, made great pecuniary sacrifices, was entrusted by 
 Wiseman with the charge of the Poor School Committee. 
 In spite of his arduous duties, Mr. Allies, a keen critic and 
 profound scholar, found time to write his great work. The 
 Formation of ChristeTuiom. Canon Morris, another convert 
 towards the close of Cardinal Wiseman's career, was ap- 
 pointed his private secretary, and acted in a like capacity 
 for about a year to Archbishop Manning, when, in order 
 to join the Society of Jesus, he resigned his office. Canon 
 Morris was a distinguished archaeologist, and author of a 
 most interesting and important work. The History of the 
 English Martyrs} 
 
 1 The lamented death of Canou Morris was a severe loss not only to the 
 Society of Jesus, of which he was a zealous member, but to the English world 
 of letters. He was a thorough master of every subject he took in hand. 
 His sound judgment, wide knowledge, and ripe experience saved him from 
 the painful necessity of "reading up" when he took a work in hand. His 
 death is a great loss to the Catholic community, for he had undertaken to 
 write the "Life" of Cardinal Wiseman. For such a task he was pre- 
 eminently fitted by his close personal intimacy witli Cardinal "Wiseman, and 
 familiar acquaintance with those minor details — not to be gathered from 
 books or from hearsay — which give colour and life to a character. Canon 
 Morris's death is a loss especially to Cardinal Manning's biographer, for we 
 were of one mind, not only as to the principle on which a biography should 
 be wiitten, but in regard to the facts in their broad outlines, which were con- 
 terminous for a time in the lives of both men. I remember at our first
 
 XXIX WISEMAN'S LIFE AND WORK IN ENC.LAND G77 
 
 Monsignor Patterson, now Bishop of Emmaus, was in 
 earlier days on intimate terms with Wiseman, and was en- 
 trusted by him with one or two important missions to Eome. 
 He was for many years attached to the Church of St. Mary's, 
 Moorfields, Cardinal Wiseman's Pro -Cathedral.-^ Canon 
 MacmuUen, a conspicuous figure among the Tractarians in 
 many a pitched battle, was a stout defender of John Henry 
 Newman in the days when the illustrious Oratorian stood in 
 sore need of defence ^ against persistent misrepresentations 
 at Eome, to which he was exposed, now whispered in private, 
 now, if rarely, alluded to in the open ; for men had a whole- 
 some dread of rousing the sleeping lion in his den. In 
 those days especially. Canon Macmullen was a keen observer 
 of men and things, and when occasion warranted, a caustic 
 critic. He was on more friendly terms with Cardinal 
 Wiseman than with his successor. 
 
 In this survey my object is to indicate the great store 
 set by Cardinal Wiseman on the Oxford converts and their 
 labours, and the trust and confidence he reposed in them. 
 With the great bulk of the clergy in his own and other 
 dioceses, many of whom were educated under his eye during 
 the years he was President of Oscott College, or, later on, 
 under his episcopal rule at Old HaU, he was on the best 
 of terms. He encouraged them to act on their own 
 initiative. If a man thought he saw an opening for 
 a good work, Wiseman allowed him to act on his own 
 responsibility ; he did not care to be troubled with details 
 
 coijsultation, Canon Morris putting the following question: — "On what 
 principle is the Life of Cardinal Manning based ? Do you relate tlio simple 
 facts without omissions or embellishments ; or do you by what is called 
 'judicious suppressions' produce an idealised picture, instead of the man as 
 he was in truth and reality ? " On learning the answer, Canon Morris added, 
 "In so complicated a life as Manning's you have pursued the safest, wisest, 
 and indeed the only honest course." 
 
 ^ Later on, under Wiseman's successor, he was appointed President of St. 
 Edmund's College, and expended much time, labour, and money in improving 
 and embellishing college and church. The church was built by the famous 
 Pugin. 
 
 2 Newman, in reference to a refutation made by the present writer in the 
 Westminster Gazette, of certain erroneous imputations cast in those evil days 
 on the illustrious Oratorian, wrote among other expressions of goodwill and 
 kindness, "A friend in need is a friend indeed."
 
 678 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 beforehand, or to hamper the originator of the undertaking 
 by minute instructions. He was wont to say, " I will 
 judge by results ; act on your own initiative ; if you 
 make blunders or go much astray I shall not be slow 
 in pulling you up." On the other hand, he was generous 
 in his recognition of good work well done, and never 
 withheld due meed or measure of praise. With the more 
 learned of the clergy, men like Dr. Eock or Dr. Husenbeth 
 among others, Wiseman was in full sympathy, encouraged 
 them in their intellectual labours, and often took counsel 
 of them. He had, likewise, an observant eye in regard 
 to the younger or rising clergy. For instance, shortly 
 before his last illness, recognising the merits and great 
 abilities of the head priest of St. Mary's, Moorfields, he 
 left instructions to his successor^ to promote at the earliest 
 opportunity to a post of dignity or office Dr. Gilbert, after- 
 wards the Eight Eev. Monsignor Gilbert, Domestic Prelate to 
 the Pope, Provost of the Chapter of Westminster and Vicar- 
 General. Wiseman's successor found in Monsignor Gilbert 
 an able administrator, a sound theologian, whose advice, 
 especially in grave and intricate questions of moral theology, 
 was often needed, and an indefatigable worker. It is 
 not too much to say that to the constant but unostenta- 
 tious aid of his Vicar-General Cardinal Manning owed iii no 
 small measure the successful administration of the diocese. 
 
 A striking result of Cardinal Wiseman's character and 
 action was the breaking down of the insularity and isolation 
 of English Catholics. Eome, his second home, and its 
 traditions, were familiar to him; he was well acquainted 
 with and deeply interested in Catholic life and thought 
 in Italy and France, in Belgium and Germany. He often 
 visited France, consulted with French bishops, preached 
 on occasions in their cathedrals — once, I believe, at Amiens, 
 once at Arras. The Bishop of Arras was his guest for 
 a time at York Place. Pere Eavignan, the celebrated 
 Jesuit preacher, delivered about Whitsuntide 1851, some- 
 times in Wiseman's presence, a series of lectures at the 
 church of the Jesuits in Farm Street. Under his influence, 
 
 ^ See Archbishop Manning's letter to Mgr, Talbot, Vol. II. p. 270.
 
 XXIX WISEMAN'S LIFE AND WORK IN ENGLAND 679 
 
 or at his suggestions, French nuns established convents or 
 joined English communities. Cardinal Wiseman maintained 
 an active correspondence with Monseigneur Gerbet, Bishop 
 of Perpignan, with more than one of the French cardinals, 
 and with Montalembert, who took a lively interest in Eng- 
 lish Catholicism, and in revisiting England renewed old or 
 made new friendships. He was a great admirer of 
 England and of its political institutions, as his well-known 
 saying shows, " To visit England is to take a bath of 
 liberty." 
 
 Under Wiseman's influence and example English Catholics 
 gradually broke through their earlier isolation. But it was not 
 with France only that Cardinal Wiseman kept up an active 
 intercourse. In 1863 he attended the Congress of Malines, 
 accompanied by the Bishop of Beverley, and followed by 
 several English Catholics, and among them by the late 
 Prior Bede Vaughan, afterwards Archbishop of Sydney, 
 brother of Cardinal Vaughan ; by the late Mr. Lambert,^ 
 and Mr. Wegg-Prosser ^ of Belmont, Herefordshire, and the 
 present writer. The Congress was held under the presidency 
 of the Cardinal- Archbishop of Malines. Cardinal Wiseman 
 delivered a striking address on " The Condition, Pieligious and 
 Civil, of Catholics in England." He spoke on that occasion 
 with more than his wonted enthusiasm and eloquence. 
 This exposition excited great interest among the Catholics 
 of Belgium. In the enthusiasm excited by Wiseman's 
 appeal to the Catholics of the Continent to aid in the 
 great work of the conversion of England by making 
 themselves more fully acquainted with the position and 
 needs of English Catholics by their sympathy and prayers, 
 les braves Beiges fraternised with their visitors and, had 
 they been permitted, would have embraced them on the spot. 
 As it was, they registered a vow binding themselves and 
 us in the bonds of everlasting fraterniU et solidariU, 
 
 ^ The name Lambert — 31. Lambert was at the time a popular nickname of 
 the Emperor Napoleon and his family — tickled the fancy of some Frenchman 
 at the Congress ; and Mr. Lambert was besieged by the reiterated question : 
 " M. Lambert, ou est Madame Lambert, et le petit Lambert ? " 
 
 ^ Mr. Wegg-Prosser at the time of his conversion was member for the 
 county of Herefordshire.
 
 680 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 Montalembert's two famous Addresses at the Congress 
 of Malines created immense enthusiasm, at least among 
 the excitable Belgians, The first address was on "A 
 free Church in a free State " ; the second on " Liberty of 
 Conscience." In a striking rhetorical passage on the 
 religious intolerance advocated by some Catholic theo- 
 logians and often defended on moral grounds in the medi- 
 aeval church, Montalembert in a voice vibrating with passion 
 exclaimed : " I could sooner condone the beheading of my 
 grandfather under the guillotine in the Eeign of Terror than 
 I can forgive the Inquisition in Spain for thrusting the gag 
 into the palpitating mouth of men guilty of no crime 
 save the love of liberty and of freedom of speech." 
 
 The Belgians, who at that day were too much addicted 
 to the false spirit of modern liberalism, sprang to their feet 
 and cheered the speaker with prolonged and rapturous 
 applause. But apart from the substance of his speeches, 
 open on many points to grave objection, Montalembert's 
 eloquence, voice, and mode of delivery, were almost un- 
 rivalled. Unlike French orators in general, his voice, 
 manner, and gesture were quiet and subdued. Only just 
 recovering from a long illness, he remained seated. In 
 opening his address he made a graceful apology, saying, 
 " Messieurs, if I address you seated I am only treating 
 you as I treat my confreres at the Academy ; for we always 
 address each other seated in our chair." 
 
 Montalembert's two speeches emphasised the growing 
 divergencies between the moderate and extreme party in 
 France. The disciples of M. Veuillot, the most pugnacious and 
 vehement of controversialists, fell foul of M. de Montalem- 
 bert whom they branded as an enemy in disguise, and nick- 
 named a " liberal " Catholic. It must be admitted that many 
 of the exaggerated and rhetorical statements concerning 
 "liberty" and "authority" uttered by Montalembert were 
 in no small measure provoked by the tyranny of the Second 
 Empire against which he fought and under which he writhed. 
 Cardinal Wiseman, though he disagreed with many of 
 Montalembert's extreme views, disapproved of the abuse 
 to which he was exposed by M. Veuillot's party and his
 
 XXIX WISEMAN'S LIFE AND WORK IN ENGLAND 681 
 
 disciples among the Catholics of England. As a speaker 
 Moutalembert was the nearest approach I have known to 
 Newman. The vibrations of his low but penetrating voice ; his 
 suppressed emotions ; his scathing outbursts of indignation ; 
 his pathos, reminded one of Newman's inimitable powers. 
 
 The enthusiastic reception accorded to Cardinal Wiseman 
 by French and Belgian Catholics on every occasion of his 
 attendance during the four days of the session of the Con- 
 gress, bore striking witness to his personal influence and to 
 the wide -spread interest taken in the progress of Catholi- 
 cism in England. This interest naturally awakened in the 
 Catholics of England a deeper fellow-feeling towards their 
 fellow-Catholics on the Continent. After this event English 
 Catholics not a few, priests and laymen, attended Catholic 
 Congresses, especially in Germany. 
 
 The Congress of Malines, attended by so many eminent 
 men of different nations, excited spite and rage among the 
 freethinkers of Belgium. In no country, not even among 
 the atheists of France, is fanatical hatred of the Catholic 
 Church so deep, fierce, and loud-mouthed as among Belgian 
 infidels. I may relate an incident which points that way: 
 on his return from the Congress of Malines, Bede Vaughan 
 with his companions, at one of the chief hotels in Brussels, 
 excited unusual attention. Prior Vaughan, a man of fine 
 and striking appearance and noble bearing, was dressed in 
 the full ecclesiastical garb worn on public occasions. It 
 was evident to the snarling freethinkers that he was an 
 Englishman and a priest fresh from the Congress of Malines. 
 There was a suppressed growl from some of these fanatical 
 bigots ; one cried out in a scoffing voice, " From Malines." 
 " Yes," Bede Vaughan replied, " and the faith and fidelity 
 manifested at the Con^n-ess of Malines has added a new 
 glory to Belgium." Sniffings and snortings were audible 
 on all sides. But the dignity and indifference with which 
 such discourteous manifestations were met soon brought 
 these excitable freethinkers to their senses. They looked 
 indeed more than half ashamed of themselves. 
 
 It was not only with the Catholics of France and 
 Belgium that closer relations were established, but with
 
 682 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 the Catholics of Germany likewise. Seizing the opportunity 
 of the opening of the German church at Whitechapel, 
 founded by the Eev. A. Dillon Purcell, now canon and 
 rector of Hampstead, Cardinal Wiseman invited to the 
 ceremonial, among others of the bishops and higher 
 dignitaries of Germany, the Bishop of Miinster, the Bishop 
 of Mayence, Mgr. Count Galen, and Canon Moufang, a 
 member of the Eeichstag. There were present also the 
 Bishops of Leeds, Birmingham, and Clifton, Mgr. Howard, 
 Bishop Morris, and Mgr. Batholini. This imposing celebra- 
 tion, conducted by Cardinal Wiseman, attended by dignitaries 
 of the Church, German as well as English, bore witness, 
 which his distinguished guests gratefully acknowledged, to 
 the care with which the spiritual needs of German Catholics 
 were attended to in London. Dr. Manning preached on 
 the occasion an eloquent sermon on the revival of Catholi- 
 cism in England. His quiet eloquence and austere appear- 
 ance made a great impression on the foreign prelates. Canon 
 Moufang, in a powerful address, delivered in the evening, 
 dwelt on the necessity, in days of danger and difficulty, for a 
 closer union between the Catholics of every nation. And 
 as the Catholics of England, he added, under the wise 
 and happy rule of their gracious Queen, enjoyed perfect 
 liberty in act and speech, their public expression of sym- 
 pathy with their fellow-Catholics suffering under tyrannical 
 oppression in other countries would do good service to the 
 sacred cause of liberty and justice. 
 
 As English Catholics have long since forgotten the 
 isolation in which, nearly haK a century ago, they were 
 content to live, to remind them of the debt of gratitude 
 they owe, on this score alone, to our first great English 
 Cardinal, is to-day only an act of bare justice. 
 
 The activity with which, until his health broke down, 
 Wiseman worked on behalf of the poor, the sick, and the 
 young, is attested by the results of his labours. His first 
 act in laying anew the foundations of the Church in England 
 was to establish homes, refuges, and schools, the beginning 
 of a great work, which his eminent successor carried on with 
 such indefatigable zeal, perseverance, and success. By the
 
 XXIX WISEMAN'S LIFE AND WORK IN ENGLAND 683 
 
 poor, hard-working, faithful and religious Irish in London, 
 Cardinal Wiseman was reverenced and beloved. In many- 
 ways he was a man after their own heart. 
 
 The Irish Catholic members of Parliament, The O'Conor 
 Don, Mr. Monsell the late Lord Emly, Pope Hennessy, 
 Major O'Peilly a Papal Zouave, the late Sir E. Esmond, 
 and Mr. Cogan, among others, used frequently during the 
 Parliamentary session to attend his crowded and lively 
 Pieceptions, first at Golden Square, then at York Place. But 
 the Irish members of that day were men of a different 
 stamp from the Irish members of to-day. Though, with the 
 exception of Pope Hennessy — the first Irish Catholic Tory 
 — they were Whigs, yet they were not Eadicals, nor — far 
 worse — men disloyal to crown and country. 
 
 Cardinal Wiseman, of course, committed some blunders. 
 The most absurd, perhaps, was his infatuation for and his belief 
 at one time in the Emperor Napoleon. The cardinal, com- 
 pletely deceived as to the political and personal motives of 
 the Emperor in defending the temporal power of the Pope, 
 belauded liim as a second Charlemagne ; and, not discerning 
 his utter want of principle, became for a time an enthusiastic 
 Napoleonist. He lived, however, long enough to repent of 
 his political short - sightedness. Under the spell of his 
 infatuation he directed that in the French chapel, supported 
 by the Eoyal House of France, the priests of which were 
 devoted to the Legitimist cause, the prayers after mass 
 should no longer be offered for the exiled king, Henri 
 Cinque, but for the son of the Eevolution, " the Usurper of 
 the Throne of France." The priests not unnaturally de- 
 murred to this act, as they called it, of desecration. To cut 
 matters short. Cardinal Wiseman announced that on a 
 certain Sunday he intended to celebrate High Mass at 
 the French chapel. After mass, instead of the accustomed 
 Doniine salvum fac Rcgem nostrum, Wiseman chanted in a 
 loud voice, Domine salvum fac Im'peratorem nostrum. 
 
 At his usual Eeception on the following Tuesday evening, 
 there was a large gathering of French Legitimists who freely 
 discussed the Cardinal's policy in publicly supporting even 
 in a church the principles of the Eevolution in the person of
 
 684 CARDINAL MANNING CHAP. 
 
 Napoleon. Wiseman, approaching this excited group of 
 French Legitimists, at the head of whom was a well-known 
 upholder of the Royal House of France, M. Espivent de la 
 Villesboinet, exclaimed in a somewhat angry tone, " Messieurs, 
 on n'entend Hen que Francais daois cette salon." 
 
 In one sense, the most important result perhaps of 
 Wiseman's varied work was the awakening in the minds, 
 which had so long lain dormant, of the Catholics of England, 
 of public action and life. 
 
 One special gift in this direction Cardinal Wiseman 
 possessed in a high degree, the art of attracting and gathering 
 about him the more active and prominent of the laity. He 
 imbued them with his own ideas, encouraged them to take 
 active part in Catholic life, and not to leave to himself and 
 the clergy alone the duty of supporting Catholic interests, or 
 of defending Catholic rights. Hence, I may remark, by way 
 of illustration, it came to pass, that when Newdegate intro- 
 duced into the House of Commons a Bill for the Inspection 
 of Convents — the last cowardly and feeble attempt of 
 decaying bigotry in the land — a large Catholic meeting 
 was held to protest against the injustice of the Bill, its 
 violation of the sacred rights of individual liberty, and the 
 iniquity of the libellous calumnies uttered in the House, 
 and under the security of its privileges, against priests, 
 monks, and nuns, by such men on this or other occasions as 
 Newdegate, Spooner, and Whalley. Newdegate, in the mad- 
 ness of his bigotry — for he was an honest man — declared 
 that every new Roman Catholic building, whether convent, 
 monastery, or community house, was provided with secret 
 underground vaults, in which, he insinuated, refractory 
 monks or runaway nuns were immured. Newman, on the 
 occasion, wrote a letter to Mr. Newdegate, published in the 
 Times, in which he confessed that the community house 
 of The Oratory, Birmingham, but recently built, was indeed 
 provided with underground vaults more or less "secret," 
 but, he added, they only contained cellars, wine-bins, and 
 larders, and he courteously invited Mr. Newdegate to make 
 a visit of personal inspection. 
 
 Deputations, selected at the public meeting, waited on
 
 XXIX WISEMAN'S LIFE AND WORK IN ENGLAND G85 
 
 the chief members of the Government and on the leaders of 
 the Opposition. The result was that the Convents Inspec- 
 tion Bill was ignominiously defeated. 
 
 In like manner, Catholic meetings were held at the 
 Stafford Club, to obtain the appointment by Government of 
 Catholic prison chaplains, and chaplains for the army and 
 navy. Deputations headed by the Hon. Charles Langdale 
 had several interviews on the subject of the appointment of 
 Catholic military chaplains with Lord Naas, afterwards 
 Lord Mayo, and with Mr. Disraeli. This claim, after full 
 discussion, was granted with a free hand by a Tory Govern- 
 ment. It was not obtained by private communications or 
 backstair influence, but by an open meeting and public 
 action. 
 
 In the days when Wiseman was Cardinal-Archbishop of 
 Westminster, the Hon. Charles Langdale was the recognised 
 leader of the Catholic laity, — as he was, indeed, in those 
 earlier days when, as President of the " Catholic Institute 
 of Great Britain," he promoted Catholic interests, and as 
 their representative in Parliament claimed for Catholics the 
 concession of equal rights with those of their Protestant 
 fellow-countrymen. At the meetings held in the Stafford 
 Club he was invariably elected chairman, an office which he 
 discharged with great tact, temper, and judgment ; qualities 
 on occasions not altogether unneeded. For it must be 
 confessed that there was at times a certain amount of 
 friction as to the mode of action to be pursued by Catholics 
 on public questions affecting their rights or interests. On 
 the one side it was contended, especially when the Liberals 
 were in power, that private communications should be carried 
 on with the Government, or personal appeals made to such 
 of its members as were believed to be more favourably 
 disposed towards Catholics. On the other hand, it was 
 stoutly maintained that public policy demanded, that if their 
 rights were withheld from them, that if they suffered under 
 a grievance, or if the Government had committed itself to a 
 wrong line of action detrimental to Catholic interests or 
 hostile to Catholic principles, it was their duty to take such 
 public action as w^as taken by every Party in the State to
 
 686 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 enforce within the measure of their opportunities their 
 claims, or to express, as they hest could, their opposition to 
 the policy of the Government. 
 
 From the other side the retort came that such public 
 action might not only awaken anti-Catholic prejudices in 
 the public mind, but, still worse, might be inconvenient to a 
 friendly Government, ready to make in private such con- 
 cessions as they might deem fit. 
 
 The preponderating Catholic feeling at the time was that 
 their representatives and leaders ought not to go, cap in 
 hand, to the anteroom of a minister, friendly or otherwise, 
 soliciting favours, but to demand in public, by petitions to 
 Parliament or otherwise, such rights or privileges as they 
 were justly entitled to. 
 
 Besides Mr. Langdale, amongst those who used to attend 
 the political meetings at the Stafford Club were Lord Edward 
 Howard, the late Lord Howard of Glossop, the late Sir 
 George Bowyer, the doughty champion in and out of Parlia- 
 ment of the Catholic cause, the late Sir Charles Clifford, 
 Sheriff Swift, Lord Feilding, the late Earl of Denbigh, Lord 
 Campden, the late Earl of Gainsborough, Hon. J. Arundell, 
 now Lord Arundell of Wardour ; Mr. George Blount, the late 
 Mr. Gilbert Blount, Mr. Amherst, now Father Amherst of the 
 Society of Jesus ; the late Sir John Simeon, Edmund Stonor, the 
 eldest son of the then Lord Camoys, a staunch Catholic and 
 Tory, who died too early to do good service and make a name 
 for himself; Mr. Edward Eyley; and last, but by no means 
 least, the late John Wallis, the able editor of the Tablet. 
 Scant justice has been done to John Wallis,^ to whom the 
 Catholics of England owe a great debt of gratitude for 
 his valiant services as editor of the Tablet in days of great 
 stress and struggle. He was a staunch Catholic, and the 
 leader, in the days when English Catholics for the most 
 part still adhered to the traditional but effete Whiggery of 
 their fathers, of a small but active party of English Catholic 
 
 ^ John "Wallis received his University education, as in those days Oxford 
 and Cambridge were closed against Catholics, at the famous University of 
 Bonn, on the Rhine, where Sir Stuart Knill, the late Lord Mayor of London, 
 was educated.
 
 XXIX WISEMAN'S LIFE AND WORK IN ENGLAND 687 
 
 Tories. John Wallis acted on the principle that in pro- 
 moting Catholic interests, public action and not backstair 
 influence should be relied on ; urged Catholics to cast off 
 their swaddling-clothes, and escaping from leading-strings to 
 come out into the open field and fight their own battles. 
 
 In allusion to this movement among English Catholics, 
 Disraeli said to the late Sir Eobert Gerard, afterwards 
 Lord Gerard, himself a good Tory, " Catholics and Tories are 
 natural allies." In our day happily this aphorism of 
 Disraeli's has been realised to the full. But in his day 
 John Wallis had an uphill battle to fight. He was the 
 most candid and outspoken of men, bold to the verge of 
 audacity in his attacks on Catholic Whiggery. He did not 
 hesitate even on occasions to tackle cardinals, in the person 
 of Cardinal Cullen for example, whom in the Tablet Wallis 
 used to call " Paul Cullen of Dublin, arch-whig as weU as 
 arch-bishop." Later on another cardinal looked with eye 
 askance on John Wallis.^ 
 
 In regard to Catholic newspapers and public meetings. 
 Cardinal Wiseman adopted the wise principle of letting every 
 man act on his own responsibility and at his own risk. In 
 allowing this large latitude of freedom of action and speech, 
 he by no means abdicated his ultimate authority in regard to 
 the public acts and proceedings of Catholics under his spiritual 
 rule. But Wiseman was not a timid man, in fear of things 
 going amiss if not under his immediate control or super- 
 vision. For instance, in regard to the meetings held at the 
 Stafford Club, attended alike by priests and laymen for the 
 discussion and promotion of Catholic interests, religious and 
 political, the necessity never entered into Wiseman's mind 
 for the presence of a priest as official representative of 
 Episcopal authority, as guide and ultimate judge of Catholic 
 action. In his trustful large-mindedness, Cardinal Wiseman 
 put no gag into the mouth, no fetter on the wrist, of Catholic 
 laymen. 
 
 The result was that, inspired by his trust and confidence, 
 the laity manifested a lively interest in Catholic affairs, 
 
 1 Cardinal Manning once said to me, "Any morning I may wake up 
 to find myself gibbeted as ' Paul Cullen of Dublin ' is. in tbe Tablet."
 
 688 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 took counsel together, and formed a centre of union and 
 action. In fact they became a reserve-force ready prepared 
 on an emergency to back their bishop. In this reserve- 
 force "Wallis and the Tablet formed the most active 
 element ; furnished the most effective weapon for offence 
 or defence. 
 
 If scant justice has been meted out to John Wallis, 
 he did not do justice to himself nor to his mental powers. 
 Possessed of great personal influence and powers of con- 
 versation, he spent too much time in talk, in argument, 
 in criticism. None, if they laid themselves open to rebuke, 
 escaped his lash ; not even bishops or archbishops or car- 
 dinals in their shortcomings. But John Wallis wasted his 
 life; missed his opportunities. A golden opportunity was 
 placed in his hands — the Life of Charles Langdale, which 
 included in its course Catholic Emancipation, the Oxford 
 Movement, the whole period in which Wiseman flourished, 
 and the larger moiety of that in which Manning ruled as 
 Archbishop of Westminster. Such a work — the liistory of 
 the Catholic Church in England, for in Wallis's hands it 
 would have amounted to that — during the most important 
 and interesting portion of the century, would have afforded 
 full scope to his critical powers, to his gift of narrative 
 and description, and to his judgment of events of surpassing 
 interest, to which he had been an observant eyewitness and 
 often a caustic critic. With avidity and singular delight 
 he entered into the plan of a great historical work, collected 
 materials, and then from a certain indolence of mind which 
 forbade or hindered sustained and silent work, Langdale's 
 Life fell from his not feeble but idle hands. 
 
 In another direction Cardinal Wiseman was equally active. 
 He entered heart and soul into the Hon. and Eev. George 
 Spencer's crusade of prayer for the conversion of England. 
 The founder of this new crusade — not to rescue by force 
 of arms the holy places from the infidel, but to restore 
 by force of prayer, to join in whicli Catholics and non- 
 Catholics alike were invited, the reunion of Christians in 
 England — the Eev. George Spencer, spent his life in this 
 noble and bloodless crusade. It was sanctioned by the
 
 XXIX WISEMAN'S LIFE AND WORK IN ENGLAND 689 
 
 Holy See ; cordially supported by Cardinal Wiseman in 
 England, and by bishops in every Catholic country in 
 Europe. It was an Association of universal prayer through- 
 out Christendom for the conversion of England. The pro- 
 posal of joint prayers for the restoration of the unity of 
 Christendom was adopted by large numbers of Anglicans. 
 
 The enthusiastic and indefatigable leader of this pious 
 crusade travelled all through the country, appealing alike 
 to Catholics and Anglicans, and making personal visits 
 to many of the leading men in the Church of England. 
 Perhaps the most zealous and fervent supporter of this 
 association of prayer was Mr. de Lisle of Grace Dieu 
 Manor — himself an early convert to Catholicism. Later 
 on, towards the close of Cardinal Wiseman's career, as 
 will be related at full in its proper place, he took a 
 prominent part, in co-operation with his friend the Eev. 
 Dr. Lee of All Saints, Lambeth, in establishing an Associa- 
 tion for the Corporate Eeunion of Christendom, which gave 
 rise to complications and difficulties, as will be related in 
 a subsequent chapter.^ 
 
 Up, almost to the last, Cardinal Wiseman maintained 
 friendly relations with Anglicans in seeking and striving 
 for the restoration of unity in Christendom. 
 
 Two works of special interest, though different in kind 
 and importance, the one spiritual, the other tending to 
 intellectual development, in such a rapid review of Wise- 
 man's career I can only refer to. 
 
 In the work of restoring the Catholic Hierarchy it was 
 Wiseman's primary duty as lawgiver to lay down the lines 
 on which the Church in England was to be built up again. 
 For this purpose, within two years of commencing his great 
 work, Cardinal Wiseman convoked the first Provincial Synod 
 of Westminster. It was held in July 1852 at Oscott. 
 This day will for ever remain memorable in the annals of 
 the Church, not only for that it was the crowning day 
 of the new Hierarchy, but because it was the first Synod 
 held in England since the Keformation. It will be for 
 ever memorable, too, on another account, for before this 
 
 1 See Chapter XIII. Vol. IL 
 VOL L 2 Y
 
 690 CARDINAL MANNING chap. 
 
 Synod, Newman preached his famous sermon "The Second 
 Spring." A noble tribute to the faith of our forefathers 
 under persecution, and a glorious forecast of the future 
 for the Church in England. 
 
 In spite of laborious days spent in active episcopal work, 
 and, more trying still, in spite of internal conflicts and 
 controversies which harassed and embittered the closing 
 years of his eventful life, the intellectual development of 
 the Church in the persons of its members, clerical and 
 lay, was ever near and dear to Wiseman's heart. After the 
 pattern of the " Roman Academy of Letters," Cardinal Wise- 
 man established in London an English Academy over which 
 he presided. At the opening of its first session, 29th June 
 1861, Cardinal Wiseman delivered the Inaugural Address, 
 in which he laid down the programme and sketched the 
 future work of this literary Institution. 
 
 How fervent and unaffected was Cardinal Wiseman's 
 piety, how tender his love and devotion towards God and 
 His saints, they only can testify who knew him intimately, 
 as, for instance, the late Canon Morris. The following 
 letter, written from Broadstairs, where he was staying after 
 his severe illness in 1863, shows in a few simple words 
 how deeply Cardinal Wiseman venerated the old Cathedrals 
 of England and their holy places : — 
 
 Broadstairs, Friday. 
 
 Dear Mgr. Manning — . . . Yesterday I drove to Canter- 
 bury, and was able to perambulate the Cathedral and venerate 
 its holy places, unknown and unsuspected. I leaned for rest 
 against Cardinal Pole's tomb, the first cardinal who has entered 
 it since his remains were borne to their resting-place. How 
 strange, too, that he, the Catholic, should be the only arch- 
 bishop since the Reformation buried there. I stood the day 
 very well, this being my longest walk by far since I was taken 
 ill. — I am ever yours affectionately, N. Card. Wiseman. 
 
 It is a great drawback and hindrance to Cardinal 
 Manning's biographer that though twenty-eight years have 
 elapsed since his death, the story of Cardinal Wiseman's 
 life has never been told. It is not merely that Wiseman's 
 biography would have furnished a fitting and almost
 
 XXIX WISEMAN'S LIFE AND WORK IN ENGLAND G91 
 
 necessary background to the picture of Manning's life, but 
 what is of far more vital consequence is, that the story 
 of Wiseman's life must needs have cleared up many grave 
 points still left in the dark ; settled many dubious ques- 
 tions still left open, and, to use a homely phrase, put the 
 saddle on the right horse. 
 
 It is hard upon me to have to discharge a duty, 
 as I needs must, if I am to write Manning's life, which 
 ought to have been discharged twenty-five years ago and 
 more by a biographer of Wiseman; hard upon me to be 
 called upon to adjust or apportion the measure of responsi- 
 bility incurred, on the one hand by Cardinal Wiseman, 
 and on the other by Manning, as Wiseman's responsible 
 adviser during the last six or seven years of the Cardinal's 
 rule. 
 
 To have written the Life of Wiseman during Manning's 
 lifetime, even had the materials been disclosed, which 
 they were not, would, I acknowledge, have been a most 
 difficult and delicate task. 
 
 In the sketch of Wiseman's career, which I have 
 attempted to give as an introduction to Manning's 
 Catholic life, as well as of the position and state of 
 Catholics in England since Emancipation ; of their relations 
 to the Oxford movement, I have, as will be observed, 
 abstained from touching upon the graver questions which 
 agitated and disturbed Wiseman's episcopal rule, and at 
 one time led to a request to the Holy See for his recall 
 from Westminster and transfer to Eome. For all these 
 matters — his difficulties about the English colleges ; his 
 disagreement with the Chapter of Westminster; his dif- 
 ferences with the greater portion of his fellow-bishops ; 
 and last but not least, the Errington Case — are, from the 
 necessity of things, sifted to the bottom and disclosed, in 
 connection with Manning's life and action as a Catholic, in 
 the next volume. For all these questions were intimately 
 connected with Manning's earlier activities as a Catholic — 
 formed part and parcel of the motives which dictated his 
 line of action at the time when he was Provost of the 
 Chapter of Westminster, and acted as Promoter of Wise-
 
 692 CARDINAL MANNING chap, xxix 
 
 man's defence against the charges brought before the Courts 
 and Congregations of Propaganda. In some of these grave 
 difficulties and disputes it is not too much to say that 
 Manning played at times not a subordinate, but a leading 
 part ; took the initiative where it was supposed he had 
 simply followed instructions. 
 
 In a review, so necessarily brief, of Cardinal Wiseman's 
 career and conduct, I have only attempted to give the 
 broad outlines of his career, and the salient points in his 
 character, together with such details as space allowed, 
 important as showing character, which were familiar to me 
 from a long personal acquaintance. This account of Cardinal 
 Wiseman, brief as it is, suffices, however, for my purpose of 
 explaining the state of Catholicism in England prior to 
 Manning's Catholic career. 
 
 Let me add the hope that the work of building up the 
 Church in England, commenced by Cardinal Wiseman in 
 laying its foundations anew, and in enlarging its boundaries, 
 carried on by Cardinal Manning in the spirit of wisdom, 
 prudence, and untiring zeal, may in good time be com- 
 pleted and crowned to the glory of God and the good 
 of souls by his Eminence Cardinal Vaughan. In the ful- 
 ness of time, when the sanct and stately edifice is with the 
 blessing of God completed, it will remain for ever a noble 
 and lasting monument to the memory of three illustrious 
 Cardinals of the Holy Eoman Church in England.
 
 NOTES 
 
 Note A 
 
 The error concerning the date of Cardinal Manning's birth 
 is a curious illustration of the aptness of a mistake to perpetuate 
 itself. In the Catholic Directory, edited by the Cardinal's Secretary, 
 the Eight Rev. Canon Johnson, the date of Cardinal Manning's 
 birth was given, year after year to the end, as the 15 th July 
 1808. The same date was inscribed on the coffin and engraved 
 on Cardinal Manning's tombstone. Cardinal Manning himself, 
 in his Diaries and Journals, in recording his birthday always 
 described the date as July 15, 1808. The same error is re- 
 peated in his letters to Robert Wilberforce. The Master of 
 Balliol, the late Professor Jowett, informed me that on his 
 matriculation in 1827 the age of Henry Edward Manning was 
 entered in the records of Balliol College as 18. 
 
 In speaking many years ago to Mr. Richmond, R.A., about 
 the date of Cardinal Manning's birth, Mr. Richmond said, 
 "Manning and I were born in the same year, 1807. We often 
 compared notes on the subject. Ask Cardinal Manning, he must 
 remember what I have told you." 
 
 On speaking to Cardinal Manning on the date of his birth, 
 he said, " Yes ; I believe there is a mistake of a year in the date 
 one way or the other, I forget which." 
 
 On making further researches, I discovered the most authentic 
 and conclusive evidence in a letter wiitten by Manning in 1832 
 to his eldest brother Frederick Manning, excusing himself for 
 the delay which had been occasioned by not taking Orders on 
 leaving Oxford in 1830. The following passage occurs in a 
 letter dated Downing Street, 1st February 1832 : — 
 
 My dearest Frederick — . . . I do not regret the delay I have 
 thus occasioned ; indeed I cannot avoid remarking by the way that I 
 am by six months only qualified to take Orders. 
 
 The Canonical Age for taking Orders is 24. Consequently, ac-
 
 694 CARDINAL MANNING 
 
 cording to his own reckoning, Cardinal Manning was born in 1807. 
 Moreover in some juvenile verses quoted below, the date of his 
 birth is given as 1807. 
 
 In the Baptismal Register of the Church of St. Martin-in-the- 
 Fields the date of Henry Edward Manning's baptism is May 
 1809. The date of birth is not given. The clergyman who 
 showed me the Baptismal Register at first declared that Manning 
 was born in 1809, but on learning that the 15th of July was 
 known as his birthday added, then of course it was in 1808. 
 
 In this fashion the mistake arose when a copy of his 
 Baptismal Register was required by Cardinal Manning in the 
 first instance, and has been perpetuated to this day. 
 
 Vindus errore nonferris alienis sed meaferrea voluntate. 
 Written 15th July 1835. Confessions : St. Augustine. 
 
 Another added to my score of life, 
 How many added to my score of sins ? 
 For every several year with ill is rife, 
 
 And ends as it begins 
 
 In wandering prayers and dull unspiritual thought 
 Of vanity and earth ; but nought of heaven 
 Into this soul of clay hath yet been wrought, 
 
 The sluggish mass to leaven. 
 
 "With a new life these eight and twenty years 
 I have lagged on with sluggish lingering pace, 
 Shrinking and dull, with low-born hopes and fears, 
 
 Most evil and most base. 
 
 (Written July 1861 — continued.) 
 
 So wrote I once when life was young, and I, 
 Imprisoned in myself, with woes and tears 
 Dimmed God's bright world and gifts unthankfully, 
 
 For eight and twenty years. 
 
 The date of birth is shown in the above verses. It is not 
 necessary to quote the remainder. 
 
 Note B 
 
 Contrast between the Catholic Church and the 
 Protestant Establishment in 1836 
 
 Temple, drd November 1836. 
 My dear Friend — From the time when we perambulated 
 this metropolis together last August till nearly the present, I
 
 NOTES 695 
 
 have been so incessantly occupied travelling, visiting, domesti- 
 cising, etc., that it has only been since my return to settled 
 thoughts and habits that I have felt distinctly conscious of the 
 duration of our silence, and a desire to break it. 
 
 From a trip to South Wales, intended to last a fortnight, I 
 was tempted on by Stephen Glynne into Ireland, and with him 
 made a month's rapid but interesting tour of the south and 
 south-western coasts. We landed at Cork, whence we proceeded 
 to Bantry Bay and Killarney, then to Limerick, near which 
 place Ave spent some days with young Stafford O'Brien ; up the 
 Shannon — to Galway, through the wilds of Connemara, and 
 straight across the island to Dublin, and so home. A mere 
 scenery -hunter will certainly be disappointed in Ireland, the 
 beautiful points lie at great distances from each other, and do 
 not repay one for the tedium of crossing the dreary interspaces. 
 But with the people, lively, good-humoured, and (as I fully 
 believe) religious, one must be interested. The parts we traversed 
 were all Roman Catholic, presenting, I suppose, that corrupted 
 system in as beautiful a form as it is anywhere developed. The 
 clergy (independently of their political and anti-English disease) 
 zealous, devoted, chaste, patient ; the people dutiful, reverencing 
 the priestly office, even where the individual might be con- 
 temptible ; festivals religiously observed, daily morning service 
 numerously frequented in every moderate town. On the other 
 hand (I speak merely what we saw, not as hastily censuring or 
 judging) the Anglo-Irish Church, whenever we came upon it, 
 presents a melancholy spectacle both to the eye and mind. 
 Churches roofless, and covered with ivy, with new and neat 
 Roman Catholic chapels close by them ; then we heard nothing 
 but " Peculiar " sermons, and found the clergy co-operating with 
 Dissenters, and giving up all but the name of Churchmen in 
 their fear of Popery. What a miserable reflection it is that 
 many members of the Apostolical body in that country should 
 so act as to confirm, one might almost say justify, the Romanists 
 in their errors. 
 
 National schools, where we were, owing to the landlords not 
 residing, and the clergy not interfering, have come quite into 
 the hands of the priests ; none but Roman Catholic children 
 attend them, and I have good reason for thinking that they use 
 their own lesson-books, not the Scripture extracts ; so that it 
 has become, in fact, a simple bonus to Roman Catholic education. 
 
 And now I must have tired and grieved you with these sad 
 details. — Your affectionate, S. F. Wood. 
 
 P.S. — Chester is an interesting old town ; and I went to
 
 696 CARDINAL MANNING 
 
 Hawcarden, Sir S. Glynne's (whom you may have seen at Christ 
 Chuixh). Lady Glynne is a very clever, excellent woman, and 
 the Miss Glynnes sensible nice girls ; indeed, I might have had 
 more society than would have suited my purpose. 
 
 Note C 
 
 W. E. Church (afterwards Dean of St. Paul's) on 
 Archdeacon JVIanning's Fifth of November Sermon, 
 1843 
 
 Oriel, 12th July 1844. 
 
 My dear Manning, — I am sorry to have been so long in ansAver- 
 ing your letter, and I have also to apologise for not having written 
 to you when Marriott first put your Sermon into my hands ; but 
 I hope you will excuse me on the score of having had my hands 
 full of work which I could not delay. I fear that you have 
 taken a great deal of trouble for little purpose, for I cannot 
 pretend to have anything to say that will assist you. It is a 
 tremendous question, and I have no clear view of it, and my 
 Middle Age reading has been confined to a very short period, 
 and has done little more for me than make me distrust anything 
 but a regular study of the writers of the day, in making up my 
 mind about those times. But I will say what strikes me. I should 
 object to looking at the Middle Age Church under Bellarmine's 
 formulae. I mean, that the Temporal Power of the Popes in the 
 working practice of Gregory VII. and Innocent III., and in the 
 abstract universal propositions of Bellarmine, seems to me as 
 difi"erent a thing as the Royal prerogative in the living govern- 
 ment of our early kings, and in the formal articles and dicta of the 
 Stuart divines and lawyers. In each case the one led to the other, 
 yet I cannot bring myself to throw back on the earlier practical 
 belief, the relations and effects in its own cotemporary society of the 
 later dogma. The traditions, feelings, disputes, dangers, among 
 which each worked, were utterly different. It seems to me 
 quite conceivable that one may have been pernicious and the 
 other salutary — and that what may have been true as the 
 index and symbol of a cause, may become very questionable 
 when thrown into the shape of a universal affirmation, sine 
 tempore et modo enunciatum. 
 
 I have never looked into Bellarmine, but I daresay that as 
 far as words go he expresses the Middle Age belief. I fully 
 agree with you that this belief was that the Pope has power from 
 Christ to interfere in all that affects Christ's kingdom, and
 
 NOTES 697 
 
 so to depose Christian princes, if necessary for its welfare. 
 But, though I am not at all disposed to accept of the theo- 
 logical dogma of the IGth century, I do not feel so ready 
 to quarrel with the claim, or the expression of the claim in 
 the 11th. 
 
 As to the claim itself, I suppose you would allow that not all 
 interference with things temporal is a violation of the spirit of our 
 Lord's words. It comes then to a question of how far 1 wuth 
 what aim 1 under what circumstances 1 Heathen government of 
 course the Church has no business with. But, supposing her 
 existing among Christians, supposing it universally recognised that 
 all things temporal are in order to things eternal, supposing that men 
 therefore call her in to direct and sanctify, may she stand aloof? 
 Supposing they think that the highest functions of government 
 should be administered with that view, ought she to refuse to 
 take part to that end ? I confess I see no limit to the inter- 
 ference of the Church in the temporal matters of Christians, 
 except her idea of expediency, or their unwillingness — from what- 
 ever cause, her abuse of past power, their own imperfect religion 
 — to admit it. The measure of her right, as the source of her 
 power, in matters not strictly her own is the feeling of society on 
 the question. It is unworthy of her, and therefore wrong, to 
 fight for that power, when it is fairly gone : it would be betraying 
 a trust not to use it and fight to retain it, when fairly and really 
 possessed. 
 
 All these suppositions are realised in the 11th century, the 
 feeling of society being that all were amenable to the Gospel 
 law ; and there was nothing on w^hich they did not seek the 
 counsel and blessing of the Church, on which they withdrew from 
 her cognisance. They went to her as to an oracle. Thus they 
 tendered her power — they believed for their own good here and 
 hereafter — ought she to have waived it ? 
 
 To attempt to guide the Governments of Christendom accord- 
 ing to the law of Christ, was no doubt a most dangerous and 
 responsible, as it was also a " most noble " enterprise — and I 
 cannot see how the Church ought to have shrunk from it. 
 However, with its dangers and its hopes, she did undertake it, 
 and the opinion of society, of all that was above mere brute 
 force, urged it on and sanctioned it. In such a state of things, 
 I cannot see why in an extreme case — and the case always was 
 considered an extreme one — the Church might not do w4iat she 
 could to depose a king, for this reason ; that Christians, who had 
 made her trustee of their interests, might claim of her, in default 
 of other remedy, to protect them from fatal mischief from a 
 brother Christian, by ^vithd^awing the sanction under which he
 
 698 CARDINAL MANNING 
 
 claimed their obedience, and which she had given on his oath to 
 govern as a Christian — unless indeed, kings held by a jns 
 diiinmn external to the Church — a doctrine, as far as I know, 
 not that of the Middle Ages, for then, whatever a man's title might 
 be, as to succession and inheritance, his being a King or Emperor 
 depended on his being crowned by the Church. The power of 
 deposition, then, seems to me the necessary complement of that 
 theory of the Middle Ages, Avhicli professed to give the govern- 
 ment of the world, with unreserved suhmimon in all things, to the 
 law and kingdom of Christ ; and politically, it was the com- 
 pensating weight, to those Governments being carried on, 
 as they then were, according to the will and pleasure of armed 
 Powers. 
 
 Governments have for centuries past withdrawn that unreserved 
 submission. " They reserve many things to be settled on 
 principles quite beside those of the Christian law — also they 
 have got laws and institutions instead of mere military power. 
 In such a case, let the Church leave these alone — it seems to be 
 God's will — there is no law commanding her to busy herself 
 about their aifairs, if they do not choose it ; she "is not under 
 bondage in such cases." I have intentionally spoken of "the 
 Church" instead of "the Pope" because I have been speaking of a 
 time when every one assumed that he was the rightful organ of the 
 Church — that her power was gathered up in him. He did, and 
 he only could in those days, represent the Church — the Spiritual 
 Power — with any reality. Bishops were vassals without the Pope. 
 And with respect to the expression of the Church's claim — that 
 the Pope had all this power jiwe divine, — what strikes me is this 
 that jus divinum rested in those days on what we should call a 
 very vague and unsound basis ; not on logical deductions from 
 Scripture, but on strong instincts of what was right and true in 
 the main, on a broad traditionary belief, on the events of Pro- 
 vidence. In this, as in everything else, they spoke of the 
 invisible world, as if it was open to their sight — they spoke of 
 God's hand in everything that happened, of St. Peter and the 
 saints as if they were still on earth. 
 
 What I mean then, is this — that the circumstances of the time 
 explain, and to my mind, justify, in Gregory VII. and Innocent 
 III., opinions, claims, and conduct which, if thrown into the shape 
 of universal Theological dogmas for the Church in all ages are ground- 
 less in reason, and have been, and may be, indefinitely mis- 
 chievous. To them many of the greatest Roman theologians have 
 committed themselves ; but the Church is not more committed, 
 than the English Church to the Synod of Dort, or Bishop 
 Orwell's Convocation Book.
 
 NOTES 699 
 
 I cannot agree witli you as to the unmixed evils flowing from 
 the power of the Popes. I cannot believe that in Gregory VII. or 
 Innocent III. the " end of the ecclesiastical commonwealth " was 
 other than the highest spiritual good of Christians — and if gross 
 secularity, as it did, flourished with their system, so did priests 
 of God such as the Church has never seen since. When was 
 all that you say (p. 81) of the ecclesiastical system, more 
 eminently true of it, than in those very ages when the pretensions of 
 the Popes were at the highest ? The secularity which always 
 exists in the Church must of course come out more frightfully, 
 as the Church has more power — in the shape of ambition or 
 avarice, instead of indolence ; but it seems to me that there are but 
 two alternatives — a strong and active system, with great evils, 
 or a weak system, with little good. The Western Church chose 
 the latter. 
 
 I daresay there is a disposition, as you say, to make all Popes 
 Saints, but, as I fully believe that some were, I doubt if it is a 
 good policy to include them all in a sweeping condemnation. 
 
 I am sorry I have not time to go on to St. Anselm. All I 
 can say, is that as far as I know, he completely, in feeling and 
 policy, identified himself with the party of Gregory VII., and I very 
 much doubt whether he would have been at all startled if, after 
 other measures — excommunication, and interdict — had failed, 
 the Pope had pronounced William or Henry unfit to rule over 
 Christian England. But it never came even to excommunication. 
 
 Pray excuse this hasty, but prolix dissertation — but I am still 
 busy — which must also be my plea for being scarcely legible. 
 Yours very faithfully, ^ ^^ Church. 
 
 Note D 
 
 Criticism of Archdeacon Manning's Sermons by 
 T. W. Allies, Eector of Launton, 1850 
 
 The Fourth and last volume of Archdeacon Manning's 
 Anglican sermons is criticised by Mr Allies in the following 
 letter : — 
 
 Launton, 29th January 1850. 
 
 My dear Archdeacon Manning — I have been enjoying the 
 task you set me of reading sermons 9-12. If I venture to 
 express any opinion which looks like criticism, remember it 
 is yoiu- own doing. 
 
 First then, No. 9, interests me most, and its skill seems to
 
 700 CARDINAL MANNING 
 
 me admirable, but pages 1G4-175 are so many blows of a sledge- 
 hammer dealt at Anglicanism, ex. grat. : — 
 
 "The supernatural inspiration of the Church is a perpetual 
 illumination above the laws of nature." 
 
 " Because the old creation is fallen and divided, may not the 
 new have an unity derived from Heaven ? " 
 
 "Because human traditions grow corrupt, may not divine 
 traditions be kept pure." 
 
 "Because natural truth is an uncertain light, may not the 
 light of Christ be sustained by Himself, infallible and clear." 
 
 " Surely all this is nothing less than to take nature without 
 revelation, as the measure and limit of Christ's office in the 
 Church." 
 
 " The illumination of the Holy Ghost is as perpetual as His 
 presence." 
 
 "Did He sanctify the Apostles and first believers, and then 
 leave the family of Christ, for all ages to work out their salvation 
 by moral habits and the force of nature ? " 
 
 "Does His presence sustain the stream of Grace, and not 
 sustain the stream of Truth ? " 
 
 " If the Church is not thrown upon its mere moral powers for 
 sanctity, is it thrown upon its mere intellectual powers for 
 doctrine." 
 
 " Is it possible to believe that this scheme of probabilities [that 
 is, of uncertainty] in doctrine, and imperfection [that is of doubt] 
 in evidence, is a part of the probation of the regenerate within 
 the revelation of the faith ? " 
 
 Alas, what have I been groj)ing through the last thirteen 
 years 1 
 
 "The infallibility of the Church is made up of these two 
 elements, perfect certainty in the object revealed, and spiritual 
 illumination in the subject which perceives it, that is the Church 
 itself." 
 
 " The presence of an infallible teacher is as necessary to the 
 infirmities of the human reason, as the presence of an omnipotent 
 Comforter is necessary to the infirmities of the human will," 
 
 Most of all perhaps. 
 
 " The idea and principles, the laws, limits, and conditions of 
 the kingdom of Christ in the revelation and perpetuity of truth, 
 in the effusion and distribution of grace — in what do they begin, 
 in what are they continued — but in a series of supernatural facts, 
 in original revelations, in spiritual consciousness, in the words of 
 inspired Scripture, in apostolical traditions, in the testimony of 
 the Church, in the definitions of Councils, in the collective discern- 
 ment of men sanctified by the spirit of God ? "
 
 NOTES 701 
 
 Most true surely ; heart and mind and will equally respond 
 to this, but have you not answered your own chief difficulty 1 
 What more than this is wanted to bear out certain other 
 words. 
 
 " There was a wonder in Heaven ; a throne Avas seen far 
 above all created powers, mediatorial, intercessory ; a title 
 architypal, a crown bright as the morning star, a glory issuing 
 from the Eternal Throne ; robes pure as the heavens ; and a 
 sceptre over all." 
 
 You certainly ought to be cited into the Court of Arches. I 
 consider it very unfair that you are not. You have been not 
 so much attacking a single point here and there in the Articles 
 of our faith, as overthrowing the whole ground on which the 
 Anglican Church originally went and now stands. 
 
 When you speak of inhering m the infallibility of the Church 
 Catholic, it is a language and a thought unknown to all her 
 writers, and utterly alien to her action and life for three hundred 
 years. How has she lived save on criticism of the text of 
 Scriptiu-e, criticism of antiquity, entrenching herself in her 
 insular position, and ignoring any such doctrine as that " original 
 inspiration has descended in a perpetual illumination." 
 
 Sermon 12. Here I am almost afraid to say what I feel, lest 
 you should think me unreasonable. It appears to me to contain 
 the true doctrine, yet not to put it so lucidly and forcibly as is 
 your wont. I limit this observation to the subject of the 
 Eucharistic Sacrifice in its relation to that of the Cross. I like, 
 ex. grat. very much p. 224; "This Christ in Heaven offering 
 Himself in visible presence ; and on earth by His ministering 
 priesthood offering Himself in the sacrifice of the body and the 
 blood," etc. But is this even all, or the highest view. Is it 
 not the Word made flesh offering modo incruento on the altar, 
 what He offered modo cruento on the cross ? Thus Suarez 
 says, comparing the Eucharistic Sacrifice to that of the Cross. 
 The chief offerer and the thing offered being the same, they may 
 be called equal simply, but in the kind of death that of the 
 Cross is greater in difficulty and divine condescension ; also in 
 actual merit and satisfaction ; that of the Mass in the manner of 
 oblation, by a more supernatural action and in an impassable 
 manner. So that the sacrifice of the Cross was more fit to work 
 redemption ; but both in their kind are best. 
 
 Surely No. 9 was not written three years ago. — I am, my 
 dear Archdeacon Manning, affectionately yours, 
 
 T. W. Allies.
 
 702 CARDINAL MANNING 
 
 Note E 
 
 When John Henry Newman was nominated in 1851 Rector 
 of the Catholic University of Dublin, he invited, in a letter dated 
 October, the Rev. H. E. Manning, who had just been ordained, 
 to become Vice-Rector. Manning, however, declined the offer 
 on the ground that it was a mistake to found a University in 
 Dublin. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
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